#I would release it if I didn’t have FIVE incompleted fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

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ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri��s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

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layton-fanfic-library · 4 years ago

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how much do i have to pay you to rec some feel good PLATONIC luke and hershel friendship fics to erase my mind of what ive seen in the tag recently

This list only contains fics from FFnet. I decided to start there as FFnet seems to contain a lot of older fics. I’ll get to AO3 and other platforms soon! Please bear in mind that some of these fics were written prior to the later games’ releases, so they may contain fan theories. Also, while all of these fics come under the friendship/family genre, I haven’t marked them with warnings. Unlike AO3, FFnet doesn’t really offer much in the way of tags. Please tread carefully, and be kind to the fanfic authors if you leave reviews.

I’m only including fics that are “complete”, though I’m sure there are plenty of other great Luke & Layton fics that are sadly incomplete.

Please feel free to add to this list or send fanfic recs!

List of Layton & Luke Friendship Fics

How to Become a Gentleman in Just 100 Days – A chapter every day, join Professor Layton and Luke as they go about living their ever-curious London life in a series of quaint yet topical conundrums, and maybe even pick up a tip or two about proper etiquette while you're at it. Tip NO. 101 - Art: Déjà vu. (I didn’t have to look far for this one. It’s the most reviewed fic on the PL FFnet.)

Luke Triton and the Illusionary Misgivings - When Luke wakes alone in a strange village with no memory of how he got there, he must uncover the truth behind the village of Validilene. Every aspect of his relationship with Professor Layton will be tested, and Luke must find the truth behind the lies in his faltering memory. But how can he uncover the truth without the professor's guiding hand? [COMPLETE] (This multi-chaptered fic is on the TV Tropes Fanfic Rec page for a reason!)

It's No Good - The Professor has a bad habit of neglecting sleep in favor of research. Rosa the cleaning lady has noticed this on too many occasions, and wishes there was something that could be done. Luckily for her, children can be quite influential. (A cute one shot. Also strongly recommend What He Has for baby Luke and Layton.)

Good Impression - 'The windows almost glowed and there was a hint of lemon hanging in the air' Luke wanted to make the best impression he could on his new mentor and guardian, but the Professor knew that Luke would always be welcome to stay with him. Now he just has to reassure Luke of that fact. Set just after Spectre's Call, friendship fluff. (Another adorable one shot!)

His Birthday - The Professor's birthday brings sad memories and surprises. One-shot.

The Reunion - After not seeing Luke for over five years, Professor Layton has an unexpected reunion with a former apprentice. No romance. (Oneshot)

Sliding Across - Have you ever tried your hand at a sliding puzzle? Sliding left, right, top, bottom, repeat. Those nerve-wracking things, they're, they're.. easy enough for a 5-year-old to solve? Well, Luke Triton isn't just your everyday 5-year-old after all. (Oneshot)

In Memory - After many years, the professor realizes it's best to move on and love the people that are still with him. (Oneshot - Layton GIVES LUKE HIS TOP HAT. THIS MADE ME SO EMOTIONAL)

Platonic - Luke and Layton are platonic soulmates, that across the worlds, universes, and time, always manage to find each other in the end. Sometimes human, sometimes magical- one can never tell in this ever weaving world of mystery. (Oneshot)

Dreamcatcher - Following the terrible events of Unwound Future, Luke has only one question: How do you forgive someone who's done something unforgivable? Spoilers for games 1 and 3. No pairings. Post Unwound Future. (Oneshot)

One Last Question - Let's be honest here-the professor's life hasn't exactly been a basket of roses. Luke decides to seize upon this chance to ask Professor Layton one last question about the person he's become...in spite of the tragedies he's faced. No pairings. Spoilers for games 3, 4, and 5. (Oneshot)

The Ametur Violinist - Luke decides to pull his violin out, but his music is heard but more than one pair of ears... [Not my picture, credit to artist.] (Short oneshot)

No less of a man - Luke awakens to a familiar problem that leaves him feeling less confident about himself. Maybe a heart to heart with those he loves can help him back on track. Rated T. Involves a transgender character. (Oneshot)

The perfect cake - The professor invites Luke to buy cake, but finding the right one is difficult. (Oneshot - This fic was written in 2012 but it reminds me so much of little Kat and Layton visiting the bakery during the anime...)

Scenes From A Hat - Professor of archaeology, puzzle hobbyist, proper gentleman, surrogate father, close friend, and more: a collection of the many roles improvised by the man known as Hershel Layton. /Drabble collection. No (overt) pairings. Beware spoilers if reviewing; I have not yet played Miracle Mask. (Collection of one shots.)

Luke Triton and the Terrible Night - Luke faces his first night sleeping alone in the professor's house. (Oneshot)

A rainy day - It's a cloudy day in London, but a glum day can't stop the dynamic duo from their investigation... or can it? (Drabble Luke/Layton father son relationship) (Cover art by GraniteFire on deviantart) (Oneshot - father-son relationship)

One Shelf Does Plenty - The Professor tries DIY. Suffice to say...it does not go well.Purple thumbs and a confused apprentice ensue. Don't forget to R&R! (A oneshot with an extra chapter)

#professor layton #friendship #family #Luke Triton #Hershel Layton #Luke & Layton #Fanfic recs #Rec list #Prequel series #OG trilogy #Thanks anon!#oneshot #oneshot collection #multiple chapters #mystery #fluff #father-son relationship

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years ago

Text

2020 in Words

After the total exhaustion and lack of motivation of the last few months, I have finally found the strength to review 2020. In terms of writing, that is. Otherwise, we ain’t touching that with a 100-foot pole. But anyway, let’s get to the actual good part of 2020 - the writing.

Word Count:

678, 105 words

And that isn’t actually all. I have started various things that 2021 caught still in progress so there are more words to be added to that number but I’ll count them towards whatever time frame I finish them in (I do not even dare assume that all of them will be finished this year).

A little over 1/7th of that word count was accomplished only in March when I wrote over 100k words. Wow, productivity where did you go? I know that the world is going to hell but do you mind coming back? I can use you. I have so many new ideas that I am really excited about but totally lack the energy to actually get to. Hope that will change in the next weeks because there is A Lot going on in my head that I am actually dying to share.

Fandoms:

Winx Club has totally taken over for me. I have barely written five works this year that are not about that show and I just don’t know what is happening anymore. I have so many thoughts and things to discuss and fix about it and I have a feeling that some upcoming events will only reinforce that position. But what truly matters is that it has truly made 2020 more bearable to be in the fandom and write fic. The interactions with other fans have been lovely which is totally worth the brain damage that some experiences over this show have inflicted.

Once Upon a Time lurked until about the half of the year but I can’t say that I have been actively interested in it. I just rewatched 4A for the Frozen Swan interactions and 4B for Cruella De Vil and that was pretty much all of it this year. I think it’s safe to say that at this point I have more or less moved on from the show and I do not expect a miraculous comeback to it. Which leaves my rewatch dangling over the chasm of uncertainty but I have projects I am far more interested in rn to be thinking about that.

I actually joined the Lucifer fandom this year, though I cannot say that I am active in it at all. It was nice to challenge myself with the small contribution I made to the fanworks in the fandom so I am putting it here because I am not done with watching the show even though I don’t think I have a good enough grasp on any of the characters in order to actually write them.

Ships:

Well, 2020 definitely delivered on that front. I have found myself piles of new ships to ship the hell out. Some I am more grateful about, others leave me slightly bitter over not knowing what to do with them but it certainly hasn’t been boring. Because this is my wrap-up and contemplation, I get to list them and maybe say a couple of words about some of them.

Griffin x Valtor - Not new but it was definitely the biggest part of that year.

Griffin x Valtor x Faragonda - New in the sense of me having written a fic about this now... and having several more ideas on my drives so... beware, future!

Griffin x Faragonda - Also not new but when the feelings catch up with me, they really mean it. Two major bursts of inspiration about them have left me with interesting results and I am looking forward to finding out where this goes.

Marion x Oritel - That was new. It was the first new ship of the year. I have more ideas about them but the muse has not visited lately. I am not giving up, though. Sometimes you gotta sail the ship even when there’s no wind.

Flora x Icy - That was definitely a surprise. I don’t know what happened but I do know that a goddamn look at Pinterest has brought on an entire epic about them (and the other Trix and Winx) so... thanks for that, Pinterest. I wish you could pin free time on Pinterest and go consume it later so that I would actually have the time to work on all of this.

Layla x Stella - Oh, yeah, baby! I have feelings and I really want to do at least an outline of what would be too long to actually write as a fic, especially since I have A Lot on my plate rn.

Griffin x Griselda - Well, that... happened. I have no idea where any of this is going, only that it is a major part of Griffin’s arc in my most major series so... I guess it’s headed somewhere. Just have to stay along for the ride.

Zarathustra x Griselda - So totally trashcankitty12′s fault... But I guess I am the one responsible for actually including it in already ongoing stories.

Ediltrude x DuFour - Okay, that one I totally roped myself into. Do I regret it? ... Maybe a little because it may need to remain just background thanks to everything else that I have going on.

Griffin x Marion - Almost forgot that which is a damn shame because it is one of my absolute most favorite ships.

Griffin x Valtor x Marion - Not gonna lie, this has been sneaking into some stray ideas too repetitively to be an accident. Will it ever exist outside of my head, though?

Samara x Erendor - I just wanted to make them more likable to me because they were my least favorite characters on the show. Worked too well and now I am in fic hell.

Bloom x Sky - I got ONE idea, okay? Too bad that I love it too much for my own good, especially considering that it is sort of a rewrite of the series. Like I didn’t have enough of those already.

There are more, actually, but we will be here all day if I have to list every stray idea that I have entertained so let’s just move on.

Stories:

Winx Club - 80 (4 unfinished and 3 that I have been dragging with me since 2019 for a total of 7/111 incomplete.)

OUAT - 3 (all finished but I have two collections that are still open from 2019 and 2018 respectively)

Lucifer - 1 (it was a one-shot but I am glad that I managed to write it at all)

Original works - 1 (poem that I came up with at 4am)

That makes a total of 85 written works this year which is honestly astounding! My brain has been harping on me about not being productive since June but I have actually gotten quite a lot of work done! (Fun fact - my total for 2019 was 58 stories, and for 2020 it is 85 XD. We’re gonna need some new numbers in 2021.)

First fic of the year - Gold and Purple (Griffin x Valtor AU inspired by a Bulgarian folk tale)

Last fic of the year - New Warmth to Weave in Your Garden of Shine (Samara x Erendor + New Year traditions and worldbuilding on Eraklyon)

Favorite writing moment - that has got to be coming up with a wild idea for my season rewrite that I will not be spoiling now. It was also inspired by Bulgarian folklore and I am so excited to reveal it (because it is so fucking grand) but we will all have to be patient.\

Wildest writing experience - definitely the entirety of chapter 4 from A Home You Never Knew How to Have. Man, that was... a goddamn ride. In every sense of the word. I still haven’t reread that bitch after posting it even though I have opened it probably a hundred times.

I launched several series this year that will need a lot of work to be brought to completion. Naturally, my focus is not on finishing those but on starting new things. Because of course it is. So here’s a heads-up for another post that will be coming shortly with announcements of my ideas. I would like to call it a plan for 2021 but I fear that will be too presumptuous of me so I will say that it is my hope that those are things that are to be released this year but I will only lapel them as projects that I am looking forward to rather than “upcoming”.

Other Works:

This year actually bore a couple other forms of art so I am going to list my creations in other mediums below because they deserve the attention.

Aesthetics:

Icy

Darcy

Stormy

Marion

Ediltrude & Zarathustra

Siren AU:

Griffin

Ediltrude

Zarathustra

Icy

Darcy

Stormy

Magic-Swapped Transformations:

Griffin Winx

Ediltrude Winx

Zarathustra Winx

Griffin Chamrix

Ediltrude Chamrix

Zarathustra Chamrix

Griffin Enchantix

Ediltrude Enchantix

Zarathustra Enchantix

Videos:

Griffin/Valtor - The Devil I Know

Winx - Trouble

Marion x Oritel/Griffin x Valtor/Faragonda x Hagen - Savage

Bloom/Mitzi - Wicked

Samara - You Should See Me in a Crown

Bloom/Sky - Kerosene

Winx Rewatch:

I actually rewatched all 8 seasons of the show + the 3 movies and I have written out my thoughts on all of them. You can find them here:

Winx Club Season 1 4kids (Stream of Consciousness) (I am actually considering redoing this one because it wasn’t in-depth like the others are)

Winx Club Season 2 4kids Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 2 4kids Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 3 4kids Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 3 4kids Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club: The Secret of the Lost Kingdom (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 4 Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 4 Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club: Magical Adventure (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 5 Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 5 Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club: Mystery of the Abyss (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 6 Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 6 Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 7 Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 7 Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 8 Part 1 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Season 8 Part 2 (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Special 1: Destiny of Bloom (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Special 2: Revenge of the Trix (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Special 3: The Battle for Magix (Stream of Consciousness)

Winx Club Special 4: The Shadow Phoenix (Stream of Consciousness)

I will not be writing any takeaways because I already talked about some of those in an ask and my brain is too fired at the moment to pull off some actual analysis and compose a proper conclusion. To be perfectly honest, I prefer not to think too much on 2020. It brought a lot of good things along with the bad but I still prefer not to look back on it if it isn’t necessary. I think it received enough of my energy already.

#my writing #my fanfiction #my fanfic #about me #personal #2020 #in retrospect #2020 in words #winx club #winx club rewatch #winx rewatch #links #long post #aesthetics #videos #visuals #reviews #thoughts

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thaisibir · 5 years ago

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La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 8/10 - Searching For Pink (length: ~7k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

When Opal returned to Ballonlea Town to bury Roger and Jasper, she didn’t take time off from her Gym Leader responsibilities or close the theatre. She kept both open, showed up promptly as she always did, and carried on as if she didn’t carry the weight of grief on her shoulders.

Bede knew, however, that her facade fell apart every time she stepped foot inside her house. Her smooth brow and stiff upper lip would crumple, then her Pokemon would run up to her so she could hold on to them for support.

“The hardest part of the day is coming back to an empty house,” she whispered to them.

Empty as in no more Roger and Jasper. The Pokemon were always around, but she would no longer see her husband working on scripts over the dinner table, or hear her son’s laughter fill the house.

“I suppose I better get right on to clearing out their things,” she said, and at that, her eyes filled up with tears.

Opal emptied the closet of Roger’s ties and suits, Jasper’s little shirts, sweaters, and pants. Boxes of toys and picture books became boxes destined for donation. Bede wanted nothing more than to help her—just as he had done for a much older Opal when she desperately needed to clear up the clutter in her house—but being a traveler from another time, all he could do was stand by and watch helplessly as frequent pauses to collect herself and choke back sobs kept Opal from working as efficiently as she could have.

She didn’t clear out everything from the house. She couldn’t bring herself to toss out Roger’s incomplete scripts. Instead she kept them in a plain, unlabeled binder which would sit next to her mother’s manual on Fairy type Pokemon. She stripped the nightstands, counters, and walls of framed snapshots of her family. Pulling the pictures out of their frames and compiling them into stacks, without regard for any sort of order, Opal tucked them away deep in the attic. Bede knew that she wouldn’t be seeing those photos in a long, long time, until he would stumble on them by accident.

“She’s cleaning up the evidence,” Bede said to Celebi, “like she’s trying to wipe out any sign that Roger and Jasper were ever here.”

He wasn’t speaking out of judgment. He knew where she was coming from. When his parents fell behind on their debts, and literally couldn’t afford to support him anymore, they dumped him at the orphanage. The hand-made clothes they left him, their attempt to give him something to remember them by, were insult to injury. The first thing Bede did was chuck his clothes in the dumpster, so that the caregivers at the orphanage had to give him new ones, and he did not talk to anyone for a week.

Once Opal ended the taxing, thankless task and ruefully rubbed at her aching back, she went outside to spend the rest of the night smoking from her armbench. That became her new evening habit. Smoking. No more reading bedtime stories to Jasper. No more bouncing ideas with Roger as he labored over writing a new play.

Holding Celebi’s hand, Bede was taken through a sad, bleak timelapse as Opal sank deep into her smoking habit, burning through up to three packs of cigarettes a day, all from her armbench, and contributing significant weight gain to her Weezing, which ate up the smoky air she’d make. Bede sat down beside her, and though he wouldn’t call himself a hugger, he wanted to give her one now. A frown seemed to set deep into her face, like etching on a stone, and her hooded, unfocused eyes didn’t register the forest’s charm and beauty surrounding her.

One early evening, Randall arrived at her house by car—the same car she had taken to see him at Wynwall. His arrival took her by surprise, but only for a moment, and her eyes returned to distant dullness.

“Evening, Opal.” He tipped off his tophat to her in greeting, then knelt down to her sitting level and took her hands. “How are you doing?”

“Randy, what are you doing here?” She didn’t answer his question. Trying to dodge either an obvious lie or the hard truth, Bede guessed.

Her twin brother made a small smile. “I thought you ought to be the first one to know. Rather than giving you a call or sending you mail, I ought to tell you in person.” The smile lingered on his lips, like good news sat on the tip of his tongue, and when he paused for effect, Opal beat him to it.

“You have a date for the wedding, don’t you? And I’m invited?”

Delight lit up his face. “Why, yes. Sharp as always, Opal. I figured you would know.” Guilt flickered in his bright blue gaze as he turned it from her face to her hands. “I...I almost didn’t want to tell you, because...well...” He trailed off as he stared at the healing scar on her right hand.

With her left, Opal gripped his shoulder. “Congratulations, Randy. Really. All my best wishes for you and your fiancee. I appreciate you coming to tell me yourself. Whenever that wedding is, I’ll be there. What kind of sister can’t come to her own brother’s wedding?” Her smile told Bede of a brave, sincere attempt to muster happiness for Randall despite the grief she wallowed in.

He stood up and turned to sit on the bench beside her, and Bede was quick enough to move out of the way. “There’s something else I need to tell you, too. Marion wants me to move to Kalos with her after we get married. I...I’m thinking of selling the family estate in the process. I wanted to run that through you before I do that.”

“You’ve been in charge of that place for the past five years now. My home is here in Ballonlea, not at Wynwall. Not anymore, not for a long time, anyway. You don’t need my approval.” She tilted her head at him. “I feel like there’s another reason you’re thinking about that, even without your fiancee’s conditions.”

Randall nodded. “The Rose family gets more rich and powerful with each year,” he admitted. “They’re talking big plans—renovating Wynwall from the ground up, mining the region for new sources of energy, and of course, repurposing the Gyms for Dynamax battles.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard,” Opal said. “My Gym’s next for reconstruction soon.”

“It’s just me against an entire family of businessmen, philanthropists, and entrepreneurs. I can’t keep up against them,” Randall went on. “Better to bow out now on friendly terms than go on to become bitter competitors and fight a losing battle. Besides, I fall in love with Kalos more and more every time I visit. It’s time to set my sights on a new land and a new life.”

“Your heart is leading you somewhere else. You should follow it.”

He smiled at her. “I’m beginning to understand why you left Wynwall and came here all those years ago.”

“I wouldn’t trade Ballonlea Town for any other place in the world,” Opal murmured. She stared off in the direction of the trail leading to the cemetery, where her spouse and child were buried.

Randall followed her gaze for a few moments before he went on, “I didn’t come here alone. When I released all the servants from my service, I made sure that they found work or retirement. Most chose to be transferred to the Rose family estate, but there are exceptions.” He gestured at the car, and Bede recognized the elderly gentleman who stepped out.

“Winston,” Opal exclaimed.

He bowed at her, then straightened up with an awkward tug at his collar. “My apologies, ma’am. No longer being a butler will take a considerable amount of adjustment.”

“Winston wanted to move to Ballonlea,” Randall said to Opal. “Proper retirement doesn’t suit him quite yet, so he’d like to work at the mart in the Pokemon Center, or at the inn, or the Dancing Impidimp. You know, somewhere that would benefit from his services. I approved the idea wholeheartedly. I thought you might appreciate having a familiar face around here.”

Opal didn’t quite smile at Winston. Having her family cruelly ripped away had also taken away her ability to properly smile and laugh for five years now. Despite that, fondness for the former butler still showed through her tone. “You are more than welcome to stay. I’ll look forward to seeing you wherever you’ll be working.”

Randall rose from the armbench, tucking the tophat under his arm. “Well, Opal, I’m delighted to hear that you’ll be coming to the wedding.” He froze midway in turning around, and returned to face her. “Ah, I almost forgot. I...” He cleared his throat. “I visited him in prison. He’s wondering if you’ll...” Randall trailed off, unable to finish.

Opal shook her head. “No,” she said in a low, tight voice. “I don’t know if I ever will.”

“I see. I’ll give him my regards the next time I see him, then.”

Bede was sharp enough to figure out that they were talking about Kestrel, who wondered if Opal would ever come visit him. The way they dodged about uttering his name told of how cut off he still was from the family. It had been five years since Roger and Jasper died, so Kestrel was halfway through his sentence. Bede doubted that Opal would ever want to see him around Ballonlea Town again, if he would be released in the next five years.

With a gentle hold of Bede’s hands, Celebi pulled him forward in time to the day that Opal and Randall bid each other farewell at the Wynwall airport.

Randall’s newly wedded wife from Kalos, along with his Pyroar and Boltund, stood respectfully to the side as the siblings shared a tight, long hug.

“Will you really be all right by yourself?” Randall asked.

With her chin on his shoulder, Opal mustered a smile. “I’ve already told you a hundred times, Randy. I’m not alone. I have my Pokemon. They’re—”

“Your family, I know.” He pulled back to hold her at arms’ length and return her smile. “I’ll try to call and write to you as often as I can.”

“Likewise.” Opal beckoned at Randall’s wife to come up, and she held their hands. “Go make the most of your marriage for me, okay? I know I already said this at the wedding, but I want you two to love each other with each day to the fullest. Smile at the smallest things and laugh at each other’s corny jokes. Never go to bed angry. You never know when you’ll wake up and find that it’s too late to say sorry.”

Grief and loss had given Opal weighted wisdom beyond women of her age. Looking at her brother and sister in-law, she was probably trying her hardest to recollect her own newlywed giddiness with Roger. She tried to end on a happier, more hopeful note. “If you ever plan on starting a family, I want to be the first to know.”

Randall pulled her into another hug, tears thick in his eyes. “My big sister, always leaving behind advice more valuable than pearls and golden nuggets.” He chuckled and wiped at his tears. “This is the best advice you’ve given me so far. Every other one was about warning me to stay out of trouble.”

“You better keep a close eye on him, Marion,” Opal said as she winked at his wife. “He used to be quite the troublemaker when he and I were little. He didn’t listen to me about shaving all the hair off our father’s Pyroar, and that earned him a spanking of the century.” She chuckled in what must have been the first time in a long time as Randall sputtered in embarrassment, and Marion put a hand to her mouth in mock horror.

Bede didn’t get to hear more of the conversation as he felt Celebi’s fluttering touch and warm light.

Brought back inside Opal’s house, he jumped at the sound of something scattering all over the floor. Something like heavy papers. He peeked into the kitchen to find that Opal had swept a stack of mail off her table. They fell like dead autumn leaves. One letter she had unfolded trembled in her hand, then it crumpled under her grip and she flung it down.

“Are you kidding me?” She burst out. “They could’ve told me in person, or at the very least with a phone call. Not through fucking mail!”

Bede flinched and pressed himself against the wall as she paced between the kitchen and living room swearing up a storm. At Celebi’s prompting, he crept over to the scattered letters and lowered himself on all fours to peer at the one Opal had been holding.

It was legible, and not too crumpled, for him to make out the fine print addressed to Opal from the Wynwall Correctional Institute. He pulled back in shock, almost hitting the back of his head against the tabletop right behind him. “Kestrel hung himself in prison.”

There came a loud, heavy crash as Opal flipped over the coffee table in the living room. Bede ducked under the dining table, hugging Celebi to his chest. He wasn’t alone in his fear of this unhinged Opal. Her and Roger’s Pokemon nearby made no effort to hide it. Alcremie ducked behind a partly open kitchen cabinet door. Mawile fixed its large jaws on the legs of a wooden chair. Togekiss hunched over the sofa, its white feathers puffed out and eyes scrunched shut. Mightyena and Obstagoon pulled back their ears and let out strained growls.

Opal knotted her hair into both fists and sank into the living room sofa with a scream. Her hands slid down to cover her face and she went silent for a while. Finally she lowered her hands to reveal wet cheeks, and horror plain in her eyes, as she took in the mess she had wrought in her house and the Pokemon cowering before her.

“Oh...oh, my darlings, my dears...I’m so sorry.”

Togekiss was the first to approach her by settling into her lap and pressing its soft weight against her. The other Pokemon were quick to join in as Opal held out her arms to welcome them into her embrace.

“I’m terribly sorry to give you all such a fright,” she murmured. “I never thought I’d trash the house and act out like this. I feel like Roger and Jasper took away the best parts of me when they died. You have the misfortune of dealing with the mess I’ve been.” Opal tightened her arms around Togekiss, pressing her cheek against its white feathers. “I was supposed to visit my brother today, you see, but just before I could, that letter from the prison came. Back in Wynwall, when Randy told me that Roger and Jasper had died, I told Kes that I would kill him. And I did.”

Something in her must have snapped that day. That news of her brother’s death was the straw that broke the Camerupt’s back. Since that day, her Gym challenge became a merciless one-sided Gym throwdown.

Bede remembered Opal being always consoling and encouraging to challengers who would lose against her. But here and now, in the darkest time of her life, she would do no such thing for any kid unlucky enough to set foot in her Gym. She spared no time nor mercy for the challengers whose Pokemon were beaten to the ground and League dreams were dashed. She kept a stern tightness about her face and posture, both hands clenched and white over the handle of her parasol. She would make no move or show of sympathy to tears of defeat and humiliation. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Matches against Opal lost their entertainment value. They became plain painful to look at. Rumors and gossip spread like wildfire among spectators.

“Poor kids. They run out of this Gym absolutely crushed.”

“Poor Opal. She’s being like this to the kids because she lost her husband and son.”

“That’s terrible, don’t get me wrong. But if you ask me, I don’t think she should be running the Gym with the way she is now.”

“I can’t watch these matches anymore. No one’s having fun.”

“I heard that the League’s going to do something about that. About her.”

Something or someone had to step in and correct her streak of ruthlessness—Bede hated to admit it, but he had to agree. She was showing no signs of stopping herself, no signs of veering off the self-destructive path she was blazing on. He saw himself, his own pain and rage, in Opal. He wanted to be the one to reach out and stop her before she destroyed herself.

“Of course, in the bid for regional championship, you give it your all and show off your true strength,” Opal once told Bede over tea and scones. “But as a Gym Leader facing challengers with stars in their eyes and dreams flying to the moon, there’s a fine balance between testing and nurturing their potential. You don’t want to be a pushover, but you don’t want to be impossible, either.”

“Sounds tricky,” Bede had said, and that made her smirk behind her teacup.

“It’s an art, my boy, one I know you have what it takes to master.”

Bede had the benefit of coming from the future to know that Opal would return to the art of being a good Gym Leader again. But how?

His question was answered when a black-haired teenage boy stepped up to challenge Opal. Though that boy wore the neutral-colored jersey, he was ablaze with boldness and determination as he sent out an entire team of Fire type Pokemon against her.

The fall of his Arcanine, Torkoal, and Ninetales left him with only Centiskorch, but this didn’t seem to deter him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Opal, but your reputation doesn’t scare me,” the teen declared. “You’ve been giving plenty of challengers a hard time. I’ll do my best to turn the tables on you!”

She didn’t respond with a jaunty smile and a witty comeback, as she usually did during matches. While the boy’s eyes were alight with the thrill of battle, hers were dark with bitter anger. She too was down to her last Pokemon—something that Bede and the audience hadn’t seen in a while. Her tightened lips only loosened as she barked orders at Alcremie to attack.

“Alcremie, use Draining Kiss!”

“Here it comes, Centiskorch. Counter with Fire Lash!”

“Alcremie, Acid Armor! Take whatever move’s coming next and get that health back with Draining Kiss!”

The Gym challenger put up a good fight. He set the whole stadium on fire with his tenacity and spirit. Bede could feel it singe the tips of his hair and his skin.

In the end, however, Opal’s experience won out. Against her Alcremie bulked up on its defense, plus her favorite move, the health-sapping Draining Kiss, Centiskorch couldn’t last. Its long body hit the ground with a heavy, undulating thud. The boy took his defeat hard. He sank to his knees and his gaze dropped to the stadium floor. A rousing applause from the spectators jerked him out of his stupor. He staggered to his feet and blinked in a stupefied daze at the show of support for him. Of all the Trainers who challenged the Ballonlea Gym since the loss of Opal’s family, this scrawny kid came the closest to defeating her.

He probably didn’t know that, though. He continued to look glum as he emerged from the Gym after a change of clothes. He was still crying, and he stopped every few steps to wipe his face on his sleeve.

He was about to cross the bridge that connected the Gym to the rest of Ballonlea Town when a slide of the automatic doors revealed Opal.

“You there,” she called to him, “remind me of your name again?”

He whirled around, then dried his face with one more wipe of his sleeve before replying. “It’s Kabu, ma’am.”

“Oh, I thought he looked familiar,” Bede exclaimed to Celebi. “I should’ve guessed from all the Fire type Pokemon he had.”

Opal approached him and jerked her head toward the path opposite of the cottages. “Come take a walk with me, Kabu. You don’t seem like you’re from around here. You should check out how beautiful these trails are. They’re the pride of this town.”

Kabu obliged, clutching at the towel about his neck while jogging up to her. Once he caught up, he matched her stride.

“I guess you’re from Hoenn?” She asked.

The look he gave her was wide with surprise. “How did you know?”

“My husband was from Hoenn. It’s the accent. That’s how I could tell.” Opal shot him a curious glance. “What do you plan on doing now?”

“I was thinking about heading back to my home region since I lost.” Kabu kicked a pebble out of the way, his eyes downcast. “I’ve grown to really like it here. I was hoping to stay in Galar.”

“You may have lost against me, kid, but don’t give up on your Pokemon League dreams just yet. You’ve got potential. Gym Leader potential.”

Kabu almost lurched to a halt in disbelief. “I-I have what?”

“You heard me right.” Opal looked him up and down. “You’re not the one I’m looking for. You’re not pink enough. No, you’re...red. A fiery, indomitable red. The kind of red that refuses to be extinguished, like a fire that doesn’t want to be put out. That was some match we just had back there. You almost gave me a run for my money, you know.” She turned her attention back to the trail ahead of her and resumed walking. “Do you always use Fire type Pokemon?”

“I try to, even though it’d make more sense to have a balance of types. Still, I want to be a Fire type specialist.”

“I see. Then I’ll put in a good word for you to Oswald, the Gym Leader in Motostoke.” She aimed a smirk at him. “He’s hard to impress, but I know that you’ll win him over with your passion, plus a little help from me. I hate to see talent being wasted. You’ll put it to good use through training with good old Oswald, I’m sure.”

“You...you’re endorsing me even after I had lost?” Kabu bowed low at the waist before her. “Ms. Opal, thank you very much for your support.” He lifted his head and tears dotted the corners of his eyes. “How can I ever repay you?”

She smiled. “You already have, Kabu.”

Opal returned to the Gym stadium, which had been cleared of spectators since she had finished her match with Kabu. With both hands propped more loosely over the handle of her parasol, she took in the space and silence of the empty stadium.

“That was quite the match,” boomed a man’s voice from above. “You had me at the edge of my seat, Opal.”

She looked up and smirked. “Oh. It’s you.”

Standing not too far away from her, Bede gasped. “Celebi, I know that guy!”

As someone who was hell bent on becoming a Champion, he had taken it upon himself to know about every past Champion of the Galar region. Of course he knew the man perched on the spectators’ bench. He had just never seen the man in his younger years.

Mustard, the reigning Champion before Leon, jumped nimbly into the arena, followed by his two Urshifus. He straightened up to his full height, which turned out to be a head shorter than Opal. Nonetheless, the strength and confidence emanating from him was palpable to Bede.

Opal quirked a long dark eyebrow. “You didn’t come just to watch things heat up in here, did you?”

Mustard stuffed both hands into the pockets of his green jacket. “Well, no,” he admitted. “I’m here on League orders. You’ve sent enough kids running home crying to get the League’s attention, and not in a good way. I was supposed to warn you if you didn’t let up.”

“Warn me of what? Of being relieved from my Gym Leader post?”

Mustard put up his hands before returning them inside the pockets. “Hey, the committee takes care of all that stuff. I’m just the messenger.”

She smirked. “You were going to warn me with a battle, weren’t you?”

He winked at her. “You know me so well.” He cracked his knuckles. “I don’t talk things out—I fight them out, with my Pokemon!”

“Oh, so you want a match now?” Opal’s hand flitted to the Poke balls strapped to her belt. “Very well. I’m having my best winning streak yet. Maybe this time I got a shot at knocking the Champion off his pedestal.”

Mustard belted out a hearty laugh. “Don’t count on it, Opal. I don’t plan on breaking my winning streak, especially to you.” He chose his rapid style strike Urshifu to take on the first Pokemon Opal sent out: Weezing.

With its telekinesis, Celebi pulled Bede up to safety on the spectator benches. The stadium became alive again with the clash of opposing Pokemon and their attacks. Bede realized that at this point in time, forty something year-old Opal was like the Raihan of her day—a force to be reckoned with, the best among the Gym Leaders, and a worthy rival to the Champion. She was good, but not good enough to beat Mustard.

Despite the type disadvantage, and half the amount of Pokemon, Mustard ultimately won the upper hand and defended his Champion title. Even at Gigantamax proportions, Opal’s Alcremie fell in defeat to blows from his single style strike Urshifu. She withdrew her fainted Pokemon into its ball and handled her loss with a graceful nod.

“You still got it.”

“So do you,” Mustard said. “This is the closest match we’ve had yet.”

Opal hooked the ball containing her ace Pokemon back to her belt. “You know, Mustard, fighting that kid Kabu today reminded me of why I love being a Gym Leader. Finding kids with talent, and lifting them up to fulfill their potential, is a reward in of itself. I used to live for that, but I lost sight of it after Roger and Jasper...” Opal looked away. “Losing my son that young...he was only five. He never got the chance to turn ten and become a Trainer and have his own Pokemon. Meanwhile there are kids running around the region, set loose by their mums and dads to go on all sorts of adventures. Those kids probably don’t know how good they got it, how lucky and blessed they are to just be alive.” Her eyes grew wetter the more she blinked. “That felt so unfair. I would get so angry when I think about it. I took out my anger on all those poor kids coming to challenge my Gym. They didn’t deserve that. I want to tell them sorry for being a bad Gym Leader.”

Mustard closed the gap between them in a few strides and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Opal, you’re not a bad Gym Leader. You’re a damn good one who’s been through hell. I’ve never married, never had kids, so you’re going through pain I can’t even begin to imagine. What I do know is that sometimes it helps to take a step back and take a breather for a bit. Get a few days off from the Gym. Get some rest.” He cracked a wry grin. “You might think that I train myself and my Pokemon by punching rocks all day. But punch that rock too many times and too hard, and you’ll come away broken and bleeding.”

The Champion left Opal with that, and she seemed to consider his last remark as she stared after his retreating back.

Since her match with Kabu, and with Mustard, Opal relaxed the standards of her Gym challenge and her own battling style—not enough to be a walk in the park, but certainly not the approach that had steamrolled on the hopes and dreams of children, either.

She cut down on her smoking habit significantly, and forced herself out of the house more often to go on walks with Mightyena, to the grocery store, to the Gym, anything to get her moving.

Through that, she seemed to forgive the world for what it had done to Roger and Jasper. And she seemed to forgive herself, too, for what she had done to Kestrel.

For the first time since the funeral, Opal visited Roger and Jasper at the Ballonlea Cemetery. Though there was no third headstone, she left an extra bouquet of flowers for her unborn, unnamed child. Instead of standing over and before the burial sites like most people would, she would sit down and lean her back against the side of the headstone, and talk aloud as if her family was still alive to hear her.

“Another day gone by with no successor chosen,” she said with a sigh. “The next Gym Leader after me was supposed to be you, Jasper, darling, when you got older. But I suppose we can’t do anything about that now, can we?” Opal reached out with one arm to touch her husband’s name etched on the headstone. “I’m holding auditions, just as I did with you, Roger. I’m not just fighting the challengers, but testing them to see if any of them have what it takes to be a Gym Leader of Ballonlea Town. So far I’ve had no luck. Do you suppose I should lower my standards?” She paused, as if listening intently to a reply Bede couldn’t hear. Then she chuckled. “No, I better not. I’ve never been one to settle for less. That’s how I roped you in to act and sing at the theatre, after all. Speaking of ropes...” The smile died on her face. “I wonder if Kes is with you now, wherever you are. He left a note addressed to me in prison before he...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. She started another: “The prison sent it to me, but I haven’t opened it yet. I don’t know if I ever could.”

She let out a shuddering sigh, closed her eyes, and fell into a somber silence, which was gently broken when a young red-haired woman approached the graves on soft, tentative footsteps.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be here,” the newcomer remarked.

Opal opened her eyes, briefly startled by the voice, but that was quickly replaced with a smile. “Mag, long time no see.”

Magnolia had grown up to cut a smart figure in the white lab coat. No longer the girl Bede had last seen, she now looked every inch the Pokemon professor everyone remembered her to be.

Magnolia bent down to add her bouquet of flowers to Opal’s. “I come every month to leave these,” she said. “I haven’t seen you around until now.”

“Yes, well, this is the first time I could bring myself to visit them.”

“I don’t blame you at all,” Magnolia said with sympathy. Opal continued to lean against the headstone, while Magnolia knelt down and removed her glasses to dab at her eyes. “I think of little Jasper every day. Sometimes I wish I could have visited you all more, be a better godmother for Jasper...”

Opal clasped Magnolia’s hand. “Don’t feel bad, Mag. You’re a very busy woman doing important research and good work for the region. I always appreciated it when you could drop by for a visit and play with Jasper. He absolutely adored you.”

The younger woman dropped her gaze to the burial sites just past her knees. “I still feel guilty. I can’t help but look back and think of the what ifs and should haves.”

Opal closed her eyes and her voice softened to a murmur. “I’m with you there. Sometimes, on the worst nights I can’t sleep, it’s not from nightmares, but from wishing that I had gone with Roger, Jasper, and the baby, so they didn’t have to leave me behind.”

Magnolia returned Opal’s grip with a squeeze.

Opal clearly tried to steer the conversation to a lighter note as she said next, “How’s your family doing back at Wedgehurst? Your daughter’s about to turn four soon, right?”

“Good memory. Yes, I’ve got to plan her birthday party when I get back.”

Opal rose to her feet and brushed bits of grass off her skirt. “Before I forget, come with me to my house so I can give you some of Jasper’s old toys. I say old, but they’re still in excellent condition.”

“My daughter would love that. Thank you.”

Opal and Magnolia left the cemetery together, and as Bede tried to follow them, Celebi led him with both hands not just through the cemetery, but through the currents of time.

Now, instead of Opal leading Magnolia into the house, Magnolia was leading Opal out of it.

“Just tell me already, Mag. Where are you taking me?” Opal asked. “What could be so important?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” the younger woman teased.

Opal’s show of anticipation and impatience made Bede crack a smirk. “She did the same to me. Got a taste of her own medicine back then, huh?”

Bede trailed after them, in the dark as much as Opal was. That is, until he realized the route he was taking. His eyes went wide as he weaved through the dense undergrowth. “Celebi, I think we’re—“

The time-traveling Pokemon nudged him further in the direction Magnolia and Opal had taken, then drew away from him and danced several figure eights in the air.

Bede frowned. “Huh? What are you trying to tell me?”

Celebi pointed after the two women.

“Okay, follow them. And then?”

Celebi didn’t make any more gestures. Instead a brilliant light engulfed it, and was gone in another blink of an eye.

Alarm spiked in Bede’s chest. Where the hell did Celebi just go? Did it just travel in time without him? Did he just get left behind in a time he didn’t belong in? He always had the Pokemon to guide him. Now what? He tried to take in deep, long breaths to calm himself. Celebi made it pretty clear to stick with Magnolia and Opal, but didn’t indicate anything else after that.

All he could do was trust that Celebi would appear to him again, whenever that was. Hopefully soon.

Bede tailed Magnolia and Opal for several more minutes, hoping with each minute that Celebi would come back for him. The two women stopped at a clearing. A clearing Bede recognized, because it was ringed with yellow mushrooms.

Opal looked around with uncertainty instead of familiarity flickering in her pale blue eyes. “Mag, where are we? What’s so special about this place?”

Magnolia didn’t answer Opal’s questions. Instead she produced a handful of cheri berries from her bag and held it out. A few feet before Magnolia’s extended hand, an orb of light materialized out of thin air. And from that light, Celebi appeared.

Everyone in the clearing reacted differently. Magnolia greeted Celebi with a warm smile, Opal gasped, while realization hit Bede like a clout to the head. Celebi traveled through time to meet up with Magnolia and Opal! When it had been accompanying Bede, it remained invisible to Pokemon and people of the past. Now it was present in that past, really present.

Opal evidently struggled to get over her shock. “I-I’ve only heard about this Pokemon in stories. Could this really be...”

Magnolia looked over her shoulder. “Yes, this is Celebi, the Pokemon that travels through time. While conducting research over Dynamax energy in Ballonlea, I stumbled upon this charming, elusive creature. After much convincing with cheri berries and my promises to bring it no harm, Celebi was kind enough to let me study its abilities. It does more than time traveling. It can show you timelines that have yet to exist, or never would. In other words, it can show you the future that could have been.”

“It can really do that?” Opal breathed. She tread on light feet closer to Magnolia and Celebi, who was eating the berries out of her hand.

“Opal, you must have lots of questions,” Magnolia said softly. “The what ifs and should haves. Celebi is here to help you answer those questions. But only if you’re okay with that. I brought you here so you could have the chance to see, but I don’t want to cause you more pain and grief if you’d rather not.”

Opal looked away for a few moments, then back at Magnolia and Celebi with conviction. “I...I want to know. I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if that day had been different.”

Finished with Magnolia’s offering of berries, Celebi flitted up to Opal, who reached out with a trembling hand. “Celebi...please show me the future that could have been,” Opal whispered. “The future that will never be.”

“Bi...” Celebi peered down at the puckered, star-shaped scar marring the palm of Opal’s right hand. It touched the scar with its small hands, tickling Opal as her fingers twitched in response. Celebi raised its hands to touch the dark hair of her temples. It pulled back to draw out a shimmering stream, and flung its hands upward to open that stream into a pool hovering above everyone.

In the depths of that shimmering pool were glimpses of faded images, voices in faded echoes. Kestrel steered his Corviknight, without a drink beforehand, safely to Wynwall. Randall greeted everyone happily at the family estate instead of the hospital. Jasper grew up, and on his tenth birthday, received his first Pokemon: a Togepi. He was showered with hugs and kisses from his parents before embarking on his adventure as a Pokemon Trainer. More years passed. A teenage Jasper won the championship tournament, but chose not to defend his title as he returned to Ballonlea Town homesick and wanting to spend more time with his mother and father. While working at the theatre and learning the ropes of managing a Gym, Jasper met an up-and-coming actor, who he fell head over heels with. A colorful, flowery wedding followed soon after that. There were smiles all around the house when Jasper and his husband proudly presented the baby girl they had adopted. More years passed, more grey found its way into Opal’s hair, and the baby girl grew up into a woman with curly blonde hair and violet eyes.

Bede’s hair and eyes.

“Whoa, what?” He blurted out. “That’s my mum.”

He didn’t care if he sounded like an idiot talking to himself. The pool kept shimmering and unraveling the nonexistent future. That woman, his mother, got married and had a baby of her own. Opal, now white-haired and stooped but still quite spry, was delighted as she got to hold her great-grandchild for the first time. Roger, looking even more wizened and elderly than his wife, leaned in for a better look. She pulled back the blanket to kiss the top of the baby’s head. That baby was Bede himself.

The pool stopped shimmering. It thinned and trickled into a river that ran down between Celebi and Opal to vanish into the grass. No one said anything for a long time. Tears had run unchecked down Opal’s face as she had looked upon a future when the lives of her family were allowed to run their course. When a tragic accident hadn’t cruelly cut them short. Finally, as if broken free from a spell, Opal stirred and wiped a sleeve over her face. Magnolia rested a hand on her shaking shoulder.

Opal lowered her arm to meet Celebi’s large, ringed eyes. “Thank you for showing me all that,” she murmured. “And thank you, Mag, for bringing me here. Some people might’ve not wanted to see a future that can’t be theirs, but I...I feel more at peace now that I’ve seen it. Now I feel like I can move on. Move forward to try and make my own long, happy future.” A thoughtful expression made her brow furrow a bit. “Those people who came into our lives...who’s to say that they won’t exist someday? Maybe I might run into any one of them in a different way.”

“You’re right, Ms. Opal,” Bede said softly. “You’ll see me again.” He noticed how young she still looked at this time, when her hair hadn’t even turned grey yet. “It’ll take you a while, but I know you’ll wait and wait for as long as it takes until you and I find each other.”

Celebi departed from Magnolia and Opal with a flash of light, and with another, it reappeared before Bede. It reached out to touch one hand to his face, and he realized that he too had been crying. Bede sniffed, hiding a small smile behind his sleeve.

“I get it now, Celebi. What she meant by her story becoming mine. Our paths have crossed before. We’re connected way beyond accident and coincidence. Ms. Opal and I...we are so alike. We’re meant to be each other’s family. And I’m meant to succeed her as the next Fairy type Gym Leader.”

“Bi!” The Pokemon nodded in affirmation, happy that the journey through time, as long and difficult as it was, led Bede to this understanding. It made a wide sweep of its arms, as if drawing out a rainbow, then offered its hands.

Bede tried to figure out what it was saying. “We...we’re going back now? Back to the present, I mean?”

Celebi nodded again. Before taking its hands, Bede snuck one last glance at Opal, who stared up after where Celebi had disappeared from her sight. The smile on her face may be faint, but it brimmed with hope.

It was time to head back where he belonged, where he and Opal would see each other again.

Notes: Musical inspiration (especially the future scene): “Time” from Inception. This wraps up Bede’s blast to Opal’s past. On to the final stretch in the present!

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #swsh bede #swsh opal #pokemon bede #pokemon opal #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #bede pokemon #opal pokemon #pokemon la vie en rose

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sgtcalhouns · 5 years ago

Text

The Man

Tamora pays Felix a visit at work.

howdy folks, i FINALLY finished this thing. this fic is 5000+ words of marital goodness that’s got a little something for everyone--there’s fluff, there’s a tiny dash of hurt/comfort, and of course there’s some nsfw goodness because i am who i am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ enjoy!

The summer sun blazed down on Tamora as she got out of her car. She had never visited Felix at work, so she wasn’t sure where exactly to find him, but she followed the sounds of construction until the beginnings of a house came into view through the trees. The moment a group of workers was visible she spotted him—he was several inches shorter than the rest of the crew, which made him easy to find. He was carrying a beam of plywood over his shoulder and she watched as he set it down on a workbench. She was too far away to hear their conversation, but Felix seemed to be instructing another worker to use an electric saw to cut the wood into pieces.

Felix was the super at the apartment complex in which they resided, but he had been hired by a local construction company to help build a new neighborhood nearby. Woodworking was more of a hobby for him, but he was well known in the community for his craftsmanship and the company thought it might be helpful to have a fresh set of eyes on their work. Big projects like this weren’t his regular occupation, but it was an opportunity to learn something new and earn a little extra money, so he accepted the job with enthusiasm.

Tamora smiled as she watched him work; she recognized the look of quiet focus on his face as he used a large electric screwdriver to connect the exterior wall to one of the beams. He had taken off his shirt, and she could see the places where his sweat had soaked through the sleeveless undershirt he was wearing. She couldn’t lie, seeing him exert himself like this had a tiny spark of arousal stirring within her.

“Who does he think he is, telling Greene what to do?” she heard nearby.

“I don’t know why they brought him on in the first place,” another man replied.

She turned her head and saw a small group of workers sitting under a tree getting a drink of water and—apparently—gossiping about her husband.

“Exactly. He doesn’t know what he’s doing,” someone agreed. “Probably couldn’t pick up the jackhammer if he tried.”

The group laughed and Tamora’s blood boiled. Even from this distance, she could see the underlying muscle tone in his arms and back that lie beneath his soft exterior. Maybe Felix didn’t fit the antiquated definition of masculinity that his peers ascribed to, but she had never thought him less of a man for it. Their dismissive and downright mean attitudes were almost enough for her to give them a piece of her mind, but she held back, knowing Felix didn’t like the sort of confrontation that such an affront was bound to cause. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and stewed in silence.

“Hey there, miss,” she heard from behind her. “Can I help you?”

She turned and saw one of the crew members waggling his eyebrows at her. He was sprawled out on the ground as he lounged beneath the tree and there was a certain amusement in his eyes that made Tamora want to slap the arrogant smile right off of his face.

“No,” she answered, turning back around.

“Aww, come on,” he replied. “Don’t you want a real man to show you around?”

“I’ve got a man, thank you,” came her curt reply. “Besides, I don’t see any real men over here.”

The rest of the group laughed at their friend’s expense as Tamora turned away from them once more. She was contemplating approaching Felix in order to avoid saying or doing something she would later regret, but in that moment he finally turned to wipe the sweat from his brow and noticed her standing there. His face lit up in an instant as they locked eyes.

“Tammy Jean!” he called out to her.

Tamora’s frown relaxed into a smile as they locked eyes. He ran over to her, removing his gloves and stuffing them in his pocket so that he could hold her hands as soon as he was close enough to do so.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in cheerful disbelief.

“I finished my errands a little early and I wanted to see you,” she said, giving his hands a squeeze. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad time to see you,” he said with a grin. He leaned up to give her a kiss.

Around them, they could hear the murmurs of the crowd as they gawked in disbelief.

“No way,” someone said.

“This has to be a joke. There’s no way he is nailing that.”

“That pipsqueak doesn’t even know what to do with a piece of ass like that.”

Their jabs may have been quiet, but Felix and Tamora heard them loud and clear. She could see the sudden discomfort in his body language, the way his smile faltered just slightly as their words met his ears. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private?” he asked.

She nodded and he led her inside the frame of the house. Most of the house was incomplete, but there was one room that had all four walls, and Felix pulled aside the tarp that covered the doorway and followed her in.

“We just finished this room today,” he said. “I know it doesn’t look like much yet.”

“It’s pretty big,” she commented. “How swanky is this place going to be when it’s all said and done?”

“I’d describe it as medium swank,” he said. “Three bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms. Nicer than most, but not too over-the-top.”

“Good. I was worried we’d have a bunch of new neighbors driving Escalades and putting little sweaters on their dogs,” she chuckled. “I can work with medium swank.”

He gazed at her, reflecting on how lucky he was to be with her. Little moments like these, moments when they laughed and joked with one another, always reminded him how much he loved her.

“I’m really happy to see you, Tammy,” he said.

“Me, too,” she said with a tender smile.

“Gettin’ a visit from you today was a nice surprise,” he said. “The fellas outside sure seemed surprised when they realized who you were.”

Tamora nodded in agreement while trying her best not to bring up what had happened outside. Before long, she found herself unable to hold the words back.

“Do you always let them talk about you like that?” Tamora asked.

“It doesn’t bother me any,” he said with a shrug. “I know what people think when they see us together. And I know you’re way out of my league.”

He gave her a small grin as he nudged her arm.

“Felix, I’m being serious,” she said, though she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“So am I,” he replied, taking her hand. “They see me standing next to you and they think it doesn’t make any sense, but it makes perfect sense to us. Let them talk. We know the truth.”

“Oh yeah?” she smirked. “What’s the truth, then?”

“The truth is that I am crazy in love with you,” he said, pulling her close and reaching for her other hand, “and I’m fairly certain you feel the same way.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” she teased.

“The truth is nothin’ makes me happier than being around you,” he said with a smile, “and nothing makes my heart beat faster than a kiss from you.”

He closed the gap between them and kissed her, allowing it to linger for a few heated seconds before breaking the connection.

“The truth is,” he murmured, and Tamora could feel his warm breath on her face as he spoke, “I really wish we were at home with some privacy right now.”

He kissed her again, releasing her hands to snake his arms around her waist instead. It was Tamora who broke the kiss this time.

“Funny you should mention that,” she said, and he could see the glint of mischief in her eye.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got some crazy idea cookin’ up in that head of yours.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested,” came her coy reply.

“My lunch break is only an hour, you know,” he pointed out.

“That’s plenty of time for what I’ve got in mind,” she said.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. Tamora bit her lip and grinned as she nodded in response. “Care to enlighten me?”

“That corner over there looks pretty inviting,” she said, tilting her head toward the empty corner in the back of the room.

“The corner? Tammy, there’s nothin’ but hard cement and plywood over there,” he said, eyeing her with a quizzical expression. “I thought maybe you wanted to take the truck to one of the wooded areas nearby and—”

“Oh no, we’re not going anywhere,” she said, taking his hands and backing up toward the corner, dragging him along with her.

“But how—?”

His question came to an abrupt stop as Tamora pressed her back against the wall and yanked him forward. He braced himself against the wall and his face landed barely an inch from hers. She looked into his eyes and he could see the desire smoldering from within her brilliant blue irises. The sight stirred up a warm tingle in his belly just as it always did. Five years of marriage had done nothing to diminish the hunger he so often felt for her; if anything, their deepening connection only made him want her more. As he lost himself in her gaze, he could see the wheels turning in her mind.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice a quiet murmur.

“You’re not what they say you are. They act like you’re weak but that’s not true,” she said. “I have half a mind to go back out there and tell them what I think about their opinions.”

“Tammy,” he scolded gently.

“But you’re right. It doesn’t matter what they think, because I know the truth about you.”

“Tell me,” he said.

“The truth is, you’re a better man than any of them will ever be,” she said.

“You think so?” he asked as he reached for hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.

“I know so,” she answered.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek and couldn’t stop himself from letting his lips wander to her jaw, where he continued lavishing her with attention.

“The truth is, you’re really good at that,” she sighed as his languid affection found its way to her neck.

“Well, you’ve given me lots of practice,” he replied, and she felt his lips curl into a smile against her skin.

“The truth is, watching you use power tools out there turned me on a lot more than I thought it would,” she said.

A rush of desire spread through her body at the memory. Goosebumps ran across her flesh, causing her nipples to harden within the confines of her bra. With every breath she got a delicious bit of friction as her body moved against the fabric, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her. She grabbed Felix’s hand and pressed it against her breast, humming with pleasure as he took the hint and fondled her over her shirt.

“So that’s all it takes to get you hot and bothered, huh?” he teased. “All that time I spent tryin’ to figure out what makes you tick when all I needed to do was bust out my power drill.”

She reached down between them and rubbed her palm against the small bulge that had made an appearance in the front of his jeans.

“The drill you’ve got is perfectly fine,” she replied.

“So that’s what you want, huh?”

Tamora nodded and reached for his belt.

“I feel like I should remind you that we’re at an active construction site right now,” he said.

“Okay,” was her nonchalant response.

“And the only thing stopping someone from seeing us is the tarp over the doorway,” he said.

“I don’t care,” she replied.

“Okay,” he shrugged. “As long as we’re on the same page.”

He kissed her and his hands slid down to her hips. He pulled her flush against him and she could feel his erection as he pressed his body against hers. She unzipped his jeans and reached inside, pulling him free from the denim. His moans were muffled into her mouth as she began stroking him, but as she held him in her hand she could feel that he wasn’t where she wanted him yet. That was no problem—she had an idea that was sure to rile him up.

Stroking the male ego had never been a priority for Tamora—if anything, the opposite was true—but this was different. She needed Felix to know that he was everything she needed in a man, despite what others said. It was a strange mix of emotions, arousal and anger and a need to prove to him that she still wanted him more than anything. While he hadn’t given her any cause to believe that he doubted her desire, she remembered the insecurity he felt at the beginning of their relationship. They had come a long way since then, and the last thing she wanted was for him to return to that place.

“You know, I wasn’t planning on doing this when I came here today,” she said, her voice low.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked. “You got here and just couldn’t resist my rugged manliness?”

He gave her a cheeky grin as he unbuttoned her shorts.

“Something like that,” she replied with a smile. “I was shocked when I saw you without your shirt on. You’re always so put together, it’s kind of hot to see you undone.”

His hand slipped down between her legs and his fingers got busy stroking her over her underwear.

“Mm, and the way you took charge out there,” she sighed. “Those boys act so tough, but you’re the only one who knows how to get the job done.”

His lips were on her neck and she felt him exhale a shaky breath against her skin.

“They think they know what a man is, but they have no clue,” she said. His hand made its way beneath the fabric of her underwear and his cock hardened in her grip the moment his fingers met the wet heat between her legs. “Luckily, my man’s got it all figured out.”

“Tammy...” he said, the word escaping on a breathy moan.

“You know what I want?” she asked. “I want you to pick me up and pin me against this wall.”

Tamora released her grip on him and slid out of her shorts. The rest, she knew, would need to stay on in case they were caught in the act. While it wasn’t a regular part of their routine, they had done this sort of thing more than a few times and had their fair share of close calls. Over the years, they came up with a few essential guidelines to help prevent being seen, one of which was to keep as many layers on as possible; this way they could dress quickly if someone were to come into the room.

Felix reached for her hips and gave her backside a firm squeeze before sliding her underwear over to the side. Any semblance of logic or reason had long since vacated his mind; he was running on pure, unadulterated lust now. He pressed the tip of his erection into her folds and pushed himself inside her, biting his lip to keep his voice down. Tamora hooked one of her legs around him and he picked her up, keeping a firm grip on her thighs. It took a moment of adjustments to get comfortable, but things got moving quickly. He rocked into her as she wrapped her legs around his back, and she leaned her head back against the wall and watched him.

The disheveled, unkempt look he was sporting aroused her beyond belief, and watching him come even more undone as passion overcame him only made the feeling more intense. He leaned forward and left messy kisses on her neck and collarbone, occasionally pressing his face into her chest to muffle his small sounds of pleasure. Once his kisses reached the collar of her shirt, he whined as he realized that he had no use of his hands in this position, which left him unable to remove the obstacles between his mouth and her breasts. Tamora chuckled as she caught on to his struggle.

“I really shouldn’t take them off, you know that,” she said with a soft smile of amusement.

“I know,” he pouted. “But normally I can at least pull things out of the way enough to give you something. I know how much you like it.”

“Well, if you insist,” she teased.

She pulled her shirt up and her bra to the side, just enough to reveal one of her breasts to him. Felix dove right in, lavishing her with enthusiastic attention. Her free hand gripped his hair and held him in place as he brought her nipple into his mouth and sucked on the small bud. His lips and tongue worked the sensitive spot just right, and her toes curled as she let out an involuntary moan. He pulled his face out of her chest and looked up at her with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Voices down, remember?” he said with a grin. “We can’t have anyone finding us like this. I could get fired.”

“Let them find us. I think the general public could learn a thing or two from watching,” she replied. “Besides, this is just a temp job anyway.”

“That may be true,” he said, “but do you really want anyone spoiling our good time?”

“I don’t know, I think a captive audience might be kind of fun,” she said.

“That’s where we disagree,” he responded, looking up at her with a wild, untamed lust burning in his eyes. “I want you all to myself.”

A passionate frenzy took over him then, and he leaned up for a hungry kiss as his thrusts gained momentum. Tamora wrapped her legs even tighter around him and pulled him close by the shoulders. Felix took a step forward, leaving no space between them. Her nails clawed their way up his shoulder blades as she sought out something to cling to—something to keep her grounded as pleasure pounded through her in waves. His groan of delight was muffled against her mouth, and he broke the kiss to look into her eyes.

“I wish I could touch you right now,” he murmured, and his breathing was ragged as he pressed a few tender kisses along her jawline.

A seductive grin played at her lips as she reached down and ran her fingers over her clitoris. A shiver coursed through him as she let out a quiet moan. He directed his attention down between them where she had begun gently rubbing circles over the top of her folds.

“T—... Tammy,” he gasped, panting for breath as he struggled to keep his arousal in check.

While he took pride in being able to please her with his touch, no one knew her body better than she did. She took the same no-nonsense attitude she used in her daily life and applied those same principles while pleasuring herself. Never one to waste time, she got straight down to business, and the sight never failed to turn Felix on beyond belief. Watching her like this could easily bring him to his knees—it had in the past—but he did his best to remain strong until she was satisfied.

His struggle was short-lived as he felt her body begin to tremble. He looked up and saw Tamora bite her lip to suppress a moan as she brought herself closer to the edge. One hand still had a firm hold on his shoulder, and her nails bit into his skin. He could feel his arms growing weaker by the second as his body gave itself over to pleasure, but he was determined to finish things where they had started. In her eyes, he was strong enough to support and please her, and he was going to deliver on that belief.

Felix leaned into her, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck as she rolled her hips against him. Each thrust brought them a notch closer to release, and they sped up in the hopes of reaching that peak. It was Tamora who reached it first, her nails scraping at his shoulder as she rode out each delectable wave. He could feel her walls pulsating around his cock as her orgasm died down, and her breathing was labored as she struggled to remain quiet. Watching her experience that bliss and knowing he was at least partially responsible for it never failed to tip him over the edge, and before he knew it he was seeing stars as ecstasy took hold of him. The only word that came to his mind was her name, which he uttered in whispers and quiet moans until the wick of his passion had finally burned out.

Still breathless, he craned his neck to kiss her. He felt a sudden, desperate need to feel her lips on his, as though he needed the sensation to survive. She responded with enthusiasm, teasing him with her tongue, and he relished the taste of her mouth as they came down from the high. They were still breathing heavily when their connection was broken, and they took a moment to collect themselves before locking eyes.

“You know,” he panted, “I do have power tools at home, too.”

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied. “I think I’ll just visit you at work more often.”

“That’s fine by me,” he said with a smile.

They shared a tender kiss before he set her back down on the ground. The muscles in his arms ached once they were free of the weight, and he made a discreet attempt to stretch them out. Tamora took notice and reached for one of his arms.

“Sore?” she asked.

“A little,” he answered. “I’d say it’s worth it, though.”

“Well, we’ll just have to find a way to help you relax tonight,” she said. “A hot bath, maybe a massage.”

“That does sound nice,” he said.

“We can’t have you straining your muscles,” she said. “Then you won’t be ready for next time.”

“Next time?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got plans for every room in this house,” she answered. “What room is this supposed to be, anyway?”

“The kitchen,” Felix replied, stuffing himself back into his pants and pulling up the zipper on his jeans.

A mischievous smile appeared on her face as she pulled her shorts back on.

“Just imagine some preppy suburban family moving in here not knowing that two random strangers had sex in their kitchen,” she chuckled.

“Well, I was thinkin’...” Felix said, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her close. He rested his chin in the dip of her shoulder. “What if we were that preppy suburban family?”

“Come on, be serious,” she said with a laugh.

“I am,” he said. “Don’t you think it would be nice to move out of the apartment?”

“We can’t afford a house,” she pointed out. “Besides, you work in the apartment building.”

“I can always commute. I don’t need to live there to do my job,” he replied. “Plus, I um... I got some big news today.”

“What news?”

“They’re offering me a job. Full-time, as a supervisor,” he said. “With that kind of money, we could definitely afford to move.”

“Are you going to take it?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered, and she felt him shrug. “It’s honest work and it’s good money.”

“You know, you could’ve told me that earlier,” she said with a smirk. “I doubt they’d want to promote you if they caught you having sex on the job.”

“Hey, I was off the clock,” he teased. He turned his head and kissed the side of her neck. “But seriously, Tammy. Think about it.”

“I don’t know, Felix,” she replied. “Are you sure this isn’t just the afterglow talking?”

She gave him a playful nudge.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this ever since I started this job. Then I got that offer today and it just seemed like the right time to start talking about it,” he said. “We’ve been married five years and we still live in that small apartment. I love the life we’ve shared there, but just imagine what we could do with all this space.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“With two extra bedrooms, we could have a guest bedroom and still have space for an at-home gym,” he said. “Q-Bert would have so much space to explore, and maybe we could finally get a dog.”

Tamora took a moment to envision the life Felix had described.

“Plus,” he leaned up and murmured in her ear, “if we had a house, we wouldn’t have to worry about being quiet when we make love.”

“Alright, that one was definitely the afterglow talking,” she said.

“Maybe you’re right,” he laughed. “But in all seriousness, it would be nice to know we’d never be interrupted by Gene with a noise complaint ever again.”

“That’s true,” she replied. “The last thing I want to see during sex is Gene’s mustache.”

“I’m just glad he believed us when we said we were rearranging furniture,” he said.

Felix kissed the back of her shoulder and they fell into a comfortable silence. After taking a moment to reflect on his thoughts, he spoke again.

“When I really think about it, I guess what I want is to give you a real home,” he said. “Something permanent that belongs to us. A place where we can paint the walls or tear up the carpet if we want to, because it’s ours.”

Tamora stayed silent as she contemplated his words.

“I know you’ve had a lot of instability in your life. All I want is to give you the life you deserve, one where you don’t have to worry that everything might disappear,” he said. “There’s so many things that are out of our control, but I can control this. I can build us a house that is sturdy and strong and that’s built to last. I can make sure it’s perfect for us. For you.”

She couldn’t deny the warm feeling in her chest as he spoke. His vision for their future was full of love and comfort and stability--all things she never had before she met him. It hadn’t even occurred to her how much she needed the permanence he described, but he had a way of seeing through her and digging out the vulnerabilities she tried to hide.

“It’s a big decision. We don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said. He released his hold on her and turned her around to face him. “Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

She reached for his hand and he smiled as she intertwined their fingers.

“I will.”

They headed outside so that Felix could escort Tamora back to her car. As they walked out of the house together, she found that she was still angry at the way he had been treated by his coworkers. Even now, the looks of disbelief and quiet jabs that passed between them made her blood boil. She’d had about enough of this.

“I should be home around five,” he said once they reached her car, which she had parked next to his truck. He was apparently oblivious to the jeers from his colleagues as he smiled up at her. “If you get a hankerin’ for something specific for dinner, let me know. I can stop by the store on my way home.”

“Don’t make any stops,” she replied. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

The suggestive tone in her voice made him blush, and he looked down at the ground in embarrassment. Tamora tilted his chin up with her index finger and pressed a searing kiss onto his lips. He was completely at her mercy, practically melting into her as she deepened the kiss. When she broke their connection, he was red-faced and panting for breath.

“I think you should take the job,” she spoke against his lips. “I’d like to see you show these boys who’s boss.”

She pulled away from him and he leaned forward in an effort to recapture her lips. Once she was out of reach, he seemed to snap back into reality—at least enough to stand upright on his own. That dreamy, love-struck smile still adorned his face as she took a step back.

“Five o’clock,” she said. “Don’t be late.”

“Never,” he sighed.

“I love you, Felix,” she said.

“I love you too, Tammy Jean,” he replied.

His chest swelled with happiness as she turned to leave. While she had come a long way in terms of being open with her feelings, she was rarely the first to say ‘I love you,’ and she was never so vocal when they were in public. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of him, she just preferred to keep those feelings private. Hearing her announce her love for him in front of all of his colleagues made him feel like he was on top of the world. He sighed and leaned his elbows on the hood of his truck and watched her drive away with his chin in his hand. Behind him, someone gave a low whistle.

“I can’t believe that’s the Tammy Jean you haven’t stopped talking about,” one of his coworkers said. “Now I understand why.”

“Yeah, one of these days we’re gonna have to sit down and have a beer together so you can tell us how you managed that,” said another.

“I can’t believe you’re married to such a babe,” the man closest to him said. “She’s unbelievably hot. You’re a lucky man.”

“I sure am,” Felix agreed before turning around to address the small crowd that had gathered behind him. “Tamora’s beautiful, smart, and funny, and she makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. But you know what else?”

“What?” the group asked.

“She’s also a marine,” he said, and his tone became much more serious as he spoke. “And if I ever hear any of you speaking that way about my wife again, you will sorely regret it.”

He scanned the crowd, making pointed eye contact with every man there. Suddenly, his tone shifted right back to the cheerful and friendly handyman they had all been accustomed to.

“Well, I believe I’ve got about fifteen minutes of my break left,” he said, clapping the man closest to him on the shoulder and giving him a bright smile. “If you fellas’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy the lunch that my Tammy packed for me.”

The group watched in stunned confusion as Felix whistled an upbeat tune and walked back toward the house.

“...Anybody else notice the scratch marks on his shoulders?” one of them asked.

“Those look pretty fresh,” someone else pointed out.

There was a moment of silence as they looked back and forth between Felix and the house and pieced together the information they had been given. After a few seconds of contemplation, it finally began to click.

“Yeah...” said Greene. “And that hickey was definitely not there this morning.”

#hero's cuties #wir fanfiction #my fic #there's so much happening here #married life is complex ya know

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shipping-receiving · 6 years ago

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Jaime x Brienne Slow Burn AU Fics

*cracks knuckles* Get ready because this is a long post. I had an anon who specifically requested “well written, well developed slow burn multi-chapter AU”. I’ve already included a few that fit those criteria in my Modern AU fic recs [ Part 1 / Part 2 ] so I thought I’d dig up a mixed bag of AUs for this list (Regency! Apocalypse! Fairy Tales!).

But just for ease of access, here are my Modern AU recs (so far) that fit this criteria, depending how slow of a burn you want. Some of them actually only happen over the course of a few days (e.g. On the Night’s Watch), but I think you still get That Slow Burn Satisfaction:

Clean hands by Gwen77

Fever by @ladyinredfics

It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine aka @oneangryshot

Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia

A Year in the Life by Coraleeveritas

On the Night’s Watch by @miss-m-calling

Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken aka @chickren

Now onward to some of that Enemies to Friends to Lovers action:

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All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 AU: Modern / Historical / Post-Apocalyptic / +++++ rating: T (more like M in parts) | word count: 264695 | chapters: 29

Why not start with the AU fic to end all AU fics – ShirleyAnn66′s multiverse epic, featuring Jaime and Brienne as physicists who explore five alternate versions of themselves. There are six interwoven parallel slow burns. SIX. Physicists, Prince/Princess (Political Marriage), Singer/Farmer (Best Friends), Prisoner/Septa, Megastar/Private Investigator, and Mad “Jon” (Post-Apocalyptic). Note that there are only 29 chapters in the story, but 35 including the Author’s Notes, and compilations of the five universes so they can be read as single stories.

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Before Destruction by renaissance AU: Pride and Prejudice / Regency rating: T | word count: 102716 | chapters: 32

One of the best multi-chapter fics ever created for this pairing, this Pride and Prejudice AU has Brienne as a governess for the Starks and Jaime as Captain Lannister, but both of them still retain their original personalities (Jaime is still the snarky one where Brienne is reserved and insecure). Perfectly plotted, and I think it conveys more of the tension and antagonism so typical of J/B than even the original dynamic between Elizabeth and Darcy.

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Shoot the Moon by @hardlyfatal AU: Modern rating: E | word count: 80250 | chapters: 33

corporate!Jaime and writer!Brienne meet on a ranch (with a host of other characters) and find themselves struggling between hostility and deep attraction. There’s also some very endearing domesticity in the second half, with Jaime’s kids Myrcy and Tommen. This probably isn’t that slow in terms of getting to the smut, but it’s really slow in terms of getting all those feelings out in the open. The author also has two other WIP slow burn fics that she is still updating regularly – Man of the Hour (Brienne is a vet, Jaime her mysterious neighbour) and the epic Western Desperado (this has three pairings: J x B, Sansa x Sandor, Dany x Jon).

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What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera AU: Modern rating: M | word count: 74868 | chapters: 19

I’m kicking myself that I didn’t think to rec this recently completed story in my first two Modern AU lists. Brienne meets Tyrion first, who hires her as a bartender in his pub, and they eventually become best friends. Jaime only appears from Chapter 4, but the Brienne/Tyrion friendship has really interesting implications for the J/B dynamic. I don’t want to spoil too much about the narrative because the direction of the story is so surprising, but it does take darker turns as the rest of the Lannisters and Starks are introduced.

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Bargains by Gwen77 AU: Regency rating: M | word count: 18171 | chapters: 11

Another Regency AU, this time with an arranged marriage between Jaime and Brienne. Jaime is still entangled with Cersei to some degree for most of this story, with painful consequences for J/B, but Jaime and Brienne’s growing feelings for each other are handled beautifully, and ultimately they get their happily ever after. This is the shortest fic in this list, but perhaps more so because Gwen77 writes heartbreaking prose so succinctly. No one writes repressed!JB like her, so it still feels like a slow burn despite its relative brevity.

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Scandal by Gwen77 AU: Victorian rating: T | word count: 21652 | chapters: 11

Look, I try not to rec more than one fic per author for each of my lists, but I would lay down my life for Gwen77′s four AUs. This one is set in a 19th Century version of Westeros, with Brienne as a journalist/writer and Jaime as a politician in a constitutional monarchy. This is one of the most unique versions of their dynamic that I’ve read, partly because this version of Jaime is more conflicted and elusive. Chapter 7 in particular leaves me breathless.

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The Dark, Dread Toyshop by @miss-m-calling AU: The Magic Toyshop / Modern-ish with a bit of magic rating: M | word count: 68755 | chapters: 25

Based on Angela Carter’s The Magic Toyshop, this underrated story is a mysterious coming-of-age tale that sees Brienne (and her siblings Pod and Sansa) sent to live with their uncle Tywin and his sons Jaime and Tyrion in his eerie toyshop. (This makes Jaime and Brienne cousins, just a warning for those who find that too incestuous.) This diverges quite a lot from the plot points of GoT/ASOIAF, but still remains enthralling.

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Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria AU: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo / Modern rating: E | word count: 113057 | chapters: 23

Another legendary, utterly seductive multi-chapter fic based on Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Jaime is a political journalist and Brienne is the hacker hired alongside him to investigate the disappearance of Sansa Stark ten years earlier. If you’re familiar with Larsson’s story, you’ll know to expect explicit sexual content and violence. (But don’t worry, all ends well, not the way Larsson left off his story with regard to his two main characters.)

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Tale As Old As Time by @brienneofthrace AU: Beauty and the Beast / Fairy Tale rating: T | word count: 56570 | chapters: 17

Jaime is the bitter lord of Casterly Rock (not an actual beast), and Brienne offers to become his hostage in exchange for the release of her captive father. This story plays fast and loose with both canons, which makes reading it really fun and unexpected. I was very lucky to have found this around the time the author chose to come back and complete it (I think there must have been a 4 year break somewhere)!

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Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart AU: Modern rating: M | word count: 72757 | chapters: 41

No-nonsense Brienne is assigned to be difficult Jaime’s new editor at Winterfell Publishing. This makes for some amazingly snarky interactions (and begrudging mutual respect) from the get-go, but perhaps one of the more unexpected elements of this story is the author’s decision to have Brienne be a longtime model/muse for photographer Loras Tyrell. Brienne’s relationship with her body thus manifest in a very different and refreshing way.

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+ BONUS: WIPs

I prefer not to rec incomplete fics on the off-chance they’ll never be completed (wow I wish season 8 was never completed) but these are two of my favourite WIPs that have been updated fairly recently:

With All Your Faults by @seaspiritwrites AU: A League of their Own / Baseball / 1940s rating: T | word count (so far): 91818 | chapters: 26/34

Well on its way to becoming a classic, this fic has been an absolute joy to read. Based very loosely on the movie A League of Their Own, and set in World War II-era America, Brienne is recruited to play in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, on a team coached by maimed former baseball star Jaime. As slow and as satisfying and as wholesome of a burn as you could possibly get.

for our world is cold and full of monsters by @trashy-greyjoy aka chancellor_valdez AU: Zombie Apocalypse rating: not rated | word count (so far): 32725 | chapters: 11/?

It’s the Jaime and Brienne road trip, except they have to fight zombies on the way. No prizes for guessing how Jaime loses his hand in this one. I genuinely love the way this fic is written – there’s a lot of great lines in this – and I don’t think it has gotten as much attention as it deserves. It seems to be on a bit of a hiatus (understandably after Season 8) but the author has promised to get back to it and I can’t wait.

#jaime x brienne #jaime x brienne fic recs #braime #game of thrones #asoiaf #got fic #asoiaf fic #trying again and bet it doesn't show up in the tags AGAIN why does tumblr hate me

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unequippedwit · 5 years ago

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An Informal and Incomplete Essay on One Fangirl’s Feelings and Descent into Mo Dao Zu Shi

So, if you’ve even glanced at my blog of late you’ve noticed a lot of dolphin screeching in regards to a series called The Untamed/Chén Qíng Lìng/陈情令. Or, something else called Mó Dào Zǔ Shī/魔道祖师. (Hint, they’re mostly sort of the same thing as The Untamed is MDZS’s live action drama with a whole ass stable of attractive).

Someone on my dash had done a recommendation list of things that they had watched and enjoyed and I made the glorious mistake of looking at the summary given, shrugged my shoulders, and said “Why not?”. I proceeded to change my entire life simply by turning on my PS4, tap-tapping my way to YouTube, and settling my behind in my easy chair where the cat and my knitting proceeded to fight for space.

I’m not going to say how many hours total that I’ve spent to watching/listening to the various adaptations (the 50 episode drama, the 23 episodes released of the donghua, and the first season of the audio drama), or reading the manhua, or reading the OG novel, but, I am going to say it’s a lot. Yes, I’ve calculated it and no I’m not telling. Oh, hecking heck it is a lot. And, considering that I’ve only really been into it since the beginning of August, well, even I’m impressed and I know how I can get in regards to hyper-fixation. I’m so glad that I have also dragged my BFF along for the ride.

I can say with some confidence that a part of the reason why I have done a full sprint down into this magnificent madness, as I cackled with glee and mass binge postings of gorgeous fanart, memes, and Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan’s faces, is that I was semi-floundering in the MCU fandom and post-release of Endgame, even more so. There had been a lingering sense of fatigue and this was needed. The fandom, for all that it is a fandom with its own faults and no fandom ever escapes them, is refreshing and new and a joy in a way that the MCU has been missing for me for quite some time.

Now, as to what actually kept me engaged I’m going to cut, because there’s A LOT and it’s going to get long folks. And a smidgen spoilery.

On the surface, the plot itself is simple. A supernatural who-dunit and where-is-it, a large and eclectic cast of characters, with two main leads who fit the one goes by-the-book and other is a renegade trope to perfection.

Then the series actually starts with the MC’s horrorific violence filled death, a bunch of vicious gossip, and someone waking up in a body that sure the heck ain’t theirs. Simple? Not so much and that’s just the first chapter.

And, oh, god, the characters in this series are just everything little ol’ me could want. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have catapulted themselves to I STAN levels in my hierarchy of Favorite Fictional Characters and even secondary characters make me cry/scream/laugh/*insert every other emotion* on a level I haven’t experienced in a very long time. I would die for Wen Ning, any version.

In this cast we get several sets of foils and a whole host of morally grey characters. No one, with the possible exception of the Juniors in the present timeline, are not guilty of at least something. Our protaganist, Sunshine Idiot Genius Hero Wei Wuxian has caused the death of 3000-5000 fellow cultivators, dug up countless graves, and risen the dead at a level that’s, well, not been seen by me in any sort of fictional setting that has necromancers. Look, I like stories with necromancers. He is also someone who doesn’t hesitate to do what is right, loves his family and his friends, and a lot of the above actions were in direct relation to him wanting to protect those that are precious to him.

With such a set of complicated characters I get a whole murderboard worthy set of complicated relationships and often complicated motiviations that make me want to cry tears of emotion. Wait, no, backtrack that as there is no want, I have cried tears of various emotions as something else is discovered or thought about or I see someone giving me some good, good meta to chew on. Yunmeng Twin Heroes being one potent source of me wailing, “MAH BABIES” while clutching at my face is a good example. Jiang Cheng is such a misunderstood character.

Know what relationship is both complicated and not at the same time? WangXian. As in the relationship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. As in the romantic relationship between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian. As in these two Idiots wandered off and got married at the end of the novel and fucked by the side of the road for their first time and we learn that our strong and stoic Hanguang-Jun is one kinky motherfucker and Wei Wuxian is really that guy and doesn’t shut up during sexy times. Considering that he doesn’t shut up during the rest of the time, it shouldn’t be that surprising, but, really, the man is missing a filter. Look at the exasperated Xiao Zhan videos of The Untamed BTS where he’s complaining about the number of pages he has per scene.

But, it took time for them to get there. It took years of hardship and anger and miscommunication and death, including Wei Wuxian’s in the beginning, to get them to the point that they are. I won’t wax poetic about Lan Wangji, other’s who word better than I have already said so many good things about how he is fundamentally a Good Person and I won’t hear a bad word said about him and the fact that there a number of people who thought he was the villain in The Untamed for a good part of it make me cry for humanity. Okay, I’ll wax a little poetically about him. But, the man has his faults. He’s not very verbal and that can and does cause problems, like leading to Wei Wuxian to believing that he hates him through most of their past, especially as they start hurtling towards the end of his first life.

I know I’m missing a lot, like how there is no true villain of the story other than people being at their worst and allowing that to lead so many of their actions. But, really, I’m just going to go back to screaming about WangXian and sharing memes. Oh, and a few recs because the writers in this fandom? Fucking Aces all around.

Five Times Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng Had a Civil Conversation, and One Time They Didn't by tabulaxrasa Summary: *Does what it says on the tin*Wei Wuxian's life is almost perfect now. There's just that one, angry, purple hole in it. If only there was some way to fix it.(There is. It's using their words.) Reason I love it: The relationship between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian is almost as important to me as the the one between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and this gives me hope that there is a future for the two of them at the end of the novel. That things can get better, never back to the way that it was because too much has happened, but they can reach a Good Place and that’s everything really.

Monotone by Seredemia

Summary: Wei Wuxian died. Wei Wuxian died and he never came back, not after thirteen years, or a hundred, or a thousand. The year is 2019 and Lan Wangji is still here, having reached the highest point of cultivation that has gifted him with immortality. It's supposed to be a gift, an honour, yet to him it's nothing but a curse.

Wei Wuxian is dead, and life is colourless. Lan Wangji ghosts through time, simply living each day in monotone.

That is, until he meets a man who has the same face, same name, same smile as Wei Wuxian. Suddenly, there's colour and hope back in his life—but it's not long until he realises Wei Wuxian in this timeline has not escaped the sorrow that plagued his past self.

Maybe history really does repeat itself after all.

Reason I love it: It’s epic. Not only in length, but in how everything is put together. The past parallels the future in all the right ways with certain things coming together to make me cry happy tears as I clutch my cat in my arms. And, let’s not forget Lan Wangji and his haircut.

Perfectly Arranged by Mondengel

Summary: Three nights before his wedding to an omega from Yunmeng, Lan Wangji meets Wei Yuandao.

Reason I love it: I have a fondness for ABO. I’ve long stopped being ashamed of my enjoyment of it and I love even more when I find an ABO that gives me arranged marriages that stay so true to the characters. Even just this little slice of life, gives us something close to the actual meeting of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian and it makes me so happy that their happiness is well and truly implied at the end of this.

Now, there about a thousand other things to be read that one should when it comes to this fandom, I’ve only thrown a few grains of rice to show what has been feeding my appetite, but, no seriously. The fic is so good guys. I think I’m actually going to start throwing up recs on the regular because gaaaaahhhhh and I’m going to go read some now that I’m done word vomiting.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #fic recs #jess watches things #fandom #this is the longest thing I have written in a long time #of course it's going to be on this fandom #because it hits all my english major buttons so dang hard #my professors would weep at my lack of proper essay format #suck it professors

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miguel-manbemel · 5 years ago

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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 22: Honest Training

New entry of the fanfic inspired on Sanders Sides created by Thomas Sanders, Joan S. and the Foster Dawg team. I’m seriously considering changing the title of the fic. When I originally chose it, I really didn’t know what to title it, but now, as I publish in this blog more things other than the fic, maybe I should keep the title “Aspects & Fanfics” for the blog and get a new one specifically for the fic. Who knows, I haven’t made up my mind yet.

It’s mindblowing how the story has been evolving. When I created the first entry, I used it to portray my own Sanders Sides theories in the form of a fic. Then, as the story went on for 21 episodes, it slowly evolved into a story of adventure and fantasy. The evolution started because I didn’t see myself prepared enough to tackle the serious issues that the original series tackles. As Roman would say, fantasy worlds are my jam, and so I took my story over the fantasy territory. One thing that I’ve always been worried about, though, is if the episodes are too long. The longest one was 15820 words long, and the average length is of around 9000 words. Is that too much? Should I make the episodes shorter? I really don’t know. I’ve got the handicap of not being a native speaker of English, which means that sometimes I may write long texts that may have been shorter if I knew the right words.I apologize for that if it’s happened. This episode in particular is shorter than on average, around 4700 words. Not that I had this concern in mind, it just came out that way.

Okay, I leave you with the episode now. As usual, you can find the previous entries from this blog right here. I have updated all the previous entries to feature a short synopsis of the plot of the episode so that you can see what the story is about, somehow. This is the first time the synopsis will be featured on release. As usual, thank you to anyone reading, and until next time.

SYNOPSIS: After getting the Dark Master’s knowledge, Logan is ready to start teaching Thomas how to use his Light Master powers, and they all go to the Mind Palace to train him. Thomas must learn how to use his powers to separate Honesty from Deceit before it’s too late and he gets fully absorbed by Deceit and ceases to exist as a result.

WARNINGS: There’s a scene of prinxiety. Remus will make an appearance in the end card. He appears eating disgusting stuff and there are mentions to cockroaches.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas enters his apartment, his hair has a wet look]

THOMAS: Well, the photo shoot is finally made. Linda has been especially stubborn today. Excuse me while I take a shower. I need to take off the five gallons of hair gel I needed to make her stay on track. No, don’t gasp, today has been one of her good days. You don’t wanna see a pic of me in one of Linda’s bad days… [beat, looking at the camera] No, seriously, you don’t wanna see it… [beat, then a little anxious] Okay, I know you wanna see, but I don’t want you to see it, okay? Stop it!

[intro sequence]

[Thomas is wearing different, comfier clothes]

THOMAS: What is up, everybody? Nothing like a good shower to refresh and renew myself. Tonight I’ve got a plane to catch, so I packed yesterday, to be ready for this afternoon of training with Logan. I know it’s a rushed schedule, but Honesty can’t wait much longer. I must learn a way to save him before it’s too late. And I know what you’re gonna say, showers don’t give you extra energy. And you’re right, I’m tired, but nevertheless I’m ready to start. For Honesty, I must gather every bit of energy I’ve got left and be ready.

LOGAN: [rising up] I’m glad that you’re ready, Thomas, cause we’ve got work to do.

DECEIT: [rising up] I’m ready too, if you need me.

LOGAN: Yes, Deceit, we’re gonna need you and Honesty.

[Honesty appears]

HONESTY: Well, here I am, ready when you are.

ROMAN: [rising up] Can we watch the training session, Logan?

PATTON: [rising up with a cute glance at Logan] Pleeeease?

LOGAN: You don’t need to manipulate me with you’re adorableness tricks, Patton, you know they don’t work on me.

[Deceit smirks sarcastically]

LOGAN: [noticing Deceit’s sarcastic smirk, he clears his throat nervously] Besides… anyone is welcome to watch, as long as you don’t mess around.

VIRGIL: [rising up] I’ll take care of that, Logan. I’ll make sure you can train undisturbed.

ROMAN: And what are you planning to do to take care of that, Virge?

VIRGIL: I’ve got my methods.

ROMAN: Like what?

VIRGIL: Oh, you want some examples?

ROMAN: Yep.

VIRGIL: Okay… [to Patton] Dad, did you know I didn’t eat at all the whole day?

PATTON: What!? Not even breakfast!? Son, you must be starving! You should take more care of yourself! Thank God your pop is here to fix this issue. I’ll go make some quick sandwiches for ya! [sinks down] Back in a minute.

VIRGIL: And I’ll do that every time Patton gets too close to be a nuisance.

ROMAN: Well, that certainly works for Patton, but what about me?

VIRGIL: [smirks] Do you really wanna know?

ROMAN: Show me.

VIRGIL: If you happen to become a nuisance for the training, I just gotta do this…

[grabs Roman and kisses him]

ROMAN: [blushing with a smile] Okay, I’m convinced. Or maybe not… Can you give me another example for confirmation…?

THOMAS: Guys, if you don’t mind, we’ve got business to attend to here.

VIRGIL: You’re right, sorry.

PATTON: [rising up with a pile of sandwiches] I’m back! Here you are, Virge. All for you. Eat them all… [scolding voice] Right now!

VIRGIL: [looking at the pile of sandwiches, wondering how he’ll be able to eat them all] Okay, dad…

LOGAN: Okay, Virgil’s methods are a little [pulling out a vocab card] out of left field, but they seem to work, so you can come to the training.

PATTON: [rising his fist, happy] Yay!

THOMAS: Um… “come”? Are we going somewhere, Logan?

LOGAN: Yes, Thomas. I’ve created a training space in the Mind Palace so that we have more room for training. I wouldn’t want you to break your furniture by accident…

THOMAS: [concerned] Oh, okay…

LOGAN: Okay, if you’re ready, follow me, Thomas. You too, guys.

THOMAS: Okay.

[Everyone sinks down. Then they appear on what looks like a basketball court]

THOMAS: Why a basketball court?

LOGAN: It’s an open space as good as any. I would have chosen a soccer field because it’s bigger and outdoors, but I’m against stepping on grass, even if it’s specially intended for that. You know, save the forest and all… And anyway, any outdoors stuff in the Mind Palace is just an illusion, because everything’s inside you, so…

THOMAS: Okay, your class, your rules.

LOGAN: Okay, Thomas. Let’s begin. The first I want you to do is concentrate in yourself.

THOMAS: What do you mean?

LOGAN: Remember, long ago, when we were trying to rescue Deceit, when I told you you had to become one with his room? It’s something similar.

THOMAS: Like meditation?

LOGAN: Kind of, but this time, instead of becoming one with any room, you must become one with yourself.

THOMAS: I’m sorry, Logan, but I’m completely lost.

LOGAN: You’re right, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have jumped right into practice without getting the theory first. So…

[suddenly Thomas is sitting on a chair and there’s a huge whiteboard next to Logan with a complicated scheme drawn on it]

LOGAN: Okay, if you look carefully at this scheme and memorize all of it, you will learn the basics to start your training.

VIRGIL: Basics? You mean that all of that… is just the basics?

LOGAN: Of course it is. Becoming an expert would require a few dozens of these whiteboards, and that’s just an approximation.

VIRGIL: [biting his thumbnail] I… I think I’m getting heightened…

THOMAS: [anxious] Logan, are you serious? I’ve got a plane to catch tonight, and I have to leave home in less than five hours to get to the airport on time. I don’t have the time to study all of that. Isn’t there a way for you to give me a simpler explanation?

LOGAN: Okay, I concede that you may be right about our time constraint. So, I’ll give you a simpler explanation. Incomplete and not ideal, but sufficient enough.

THOMAS: Thank you.

LOGAN: We call you the Light Master, but that’s a little imprecise. Because you are much more than the Light Master. You are the whole Mind Palace itself and everything and everyone that lives inside. Are you following me?

THOMAS: Kind of…

LOGAN: We are all the Sanders Sides, and then there’s the Dark Master. While inside of you, we’re still each our own entity, tied to you, but with our own consciousness. But the Light Master and you have the same consciousness, your consciousness. Still with me?

THOMAS: Not sure…

LOGAN: Basically, the Light Master is within you. Like anyone of us, he’s his own entity, but unlike us, he only manifests through you.

THOMAS: Okay, this is where I start getting lost.

LOGAN: Summoning us is easy, you just call us and, if we’re not in autopilot, we hear you and we come. Got it?

THOMAS: Got it.

LOGAN: For the Light Master, however, it’s not that easy. If you want to summon his powers, you must learn to separate your human self from your Master self, learn to differentiate each and learn to control your Master self. It’s in a way as if you were two entities at the same time, your human self is awake and under your normal control, while your Master self lies dormant within you. You managed to wake him up by chance when you forced Romulus to split up, but you didn’t know how to control him, so you turned Roman into a Dark Side by accident. Got me?

THOMAS: So… the Light Master is different from me? Like a Side inside of me that can’t get out?

LOGAN: Kind of, but not exactly. The Light Master is an inseparable part of you, but it’s not all of you. It’s only a part of you that lies dormant and you need to learn how to wake it up. Understand?

THOMAS: I think so. And how do I wake that part of me up?

LOGAN: As I told you, you must follow the same method you did with Deceit’s room, but this time you must concentrate into yourself, trying to distinguish that Master part of you, identify it and make it surface.

THOMAS: And when it’s out? What will happen?

LOGAN: If you consciously wake it up, you should be able to control it. The first time it could be difficult, but with practice, you would be able to do it more naturally and easily.

THOMAS: Okay, so I start concentrating?

LOGAN: Yes. Are you ready for the first try?

THOMAS: I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter. We don’t have much time, so I must try, ready or not.

LOGAN: Okay, first of all, don’t be afraid, Thomas. Remember that this is a part of you and you can do this, okay?

THOMAS: Okay. Let’s go.

LOGAN: Okay, close your eyes, then.

[Thomas closes his eyes]

LOGAN: Try to empty your mind of each and any thoughts that could distract you. Whatever it is, it can wait. Now you must focus in yourself. Nothing exists, but yourself.

THOMAS: Okay…

LOGAN: When you reach that level of concentration, start focusing into yourself. Identify your day-to-day self, the normal Thomas Sanders that lives a normal life in the normal town of Gainesville, Florida. Then check everything inside you. You’ll be able to tell the difference between that part of you, and the other special part, a part that you hadn’t noticed before, but that you’ll be able to sense now. That’s the part where you must focus now. Can you sense it?

THOMAS: I think so… It’s weird…

LOGAN: Put the normal Thomas Sanders out of your focus, and concentrate solely on that part. You’ll see how it starts growing inside you. You may feel an overwhelming sensation, but don’t let it control you. It’s you who are in control, now and always. Don’t forget that. The Light Master self is at your service and not the opposite.

[A white aura starts glowing around Thomas’ body]

ROMAN: [in a low voice to Virgil and Patton] I’ve seen that kind of aura before. It’s the same aura that appeared around me when the Dark Master transformed me into a Light Side. I think Thomas is doing it.

[suddenly the aura disappears and Thomas shows a face of struggling, then he opens his eyes, with a slightly agitated breathing]

THOMAS: I lost it…

ROMAN: Wow, so close…

LOGAN: It’s okay, Thomas. No one asked you to do it on the first try.

THOMAS: It’s just that I felt as if that… thing, I don’t know how to call it, was starting to take me over, and I felt overwhelmed, as if I was drowning, I don’t know how to explain it, it was weird and unpleasant.

LOGAN: Yes, I thought it was that, that’s why I told you. You must keep in mind that you are always in charge. You may feel that sensation because you’re putting that part of yourself on the first line and your normal self steps back as a result, something you’re not accustomed to. But you can do this. Just as you have control over us, you also have control over your Light Master self. You just need to learn how to control it, and it won’t feel so unpleasant when you manage to do that. Are you ready for another try?

THOMAS: I don’t know…

PATTON: Come on kiddo, you can do this! We’re rooting for you!

[the rest of the Sides cheer too]

THOMAS: Thanks, guys… Okay, let’s try again.

[Thomas closes his eyes and starts concentrating again. In a shorter time than earlier, the aura manifests again]

ROMAN: Wow, it’s going really fast now…

[the aura starts growing and growing. Thomas shows an unpleasant face for some time, but after that he changes it for a determined face, then the aura is absorbed by Thomas’ body, and he opens his eyes. They’re now of a silver gray color]

THOMAS: I think I did it.

LOGAN: Well done, Thomas. How do you feel?

THOMAS: It’s a strange sensation. I feel like I could do so much more than before, as if all the limitations that hindered me had suddenly disappeared.

LOGAN: That’s because we’re in the Mind Palace, where in this state you can shape anything and anyone at your own will. But be careful, Thomas. Don’t get drunk with this power. You must only use it when the time is right.

THOMAS: Yes, I know, Logan. Okay, now what?

LOGAN: Now, we start training on how to split Deceit and Honesty back to how they were before.

THOMAS: I think I know what to do, somehow…

LOGAN: Yes, now that your Light Master self is awaken, you know what to do, but still, you need to practice before doing it for real. You don’t want to cause an accident during the split that wounds Deceit or Honesty, or something worse.

THOMAS: No, certainly not, but how do I practice?

[Logan makes the whiteboard disappear, and in its place, he invokes a manikin]

LOGAN: Deceit, could you come here and put your hand on the manikin, please?

DECEIT: Oh… okay.

[Deceit puts his hand on the manikin. Logan does the same. After some seconds, there’s a yellow flash and the manikin is dressed with a copy of Deceit’s outfit]

LOGAN: Thank you, Deceit. Okay, Thomas, this manikin has been infused with Deceit and Honesty’s essence, mixed as it is now. I want you to split this manikin in two parts. Not to cut it in half literally, but to create two manikins out of this one, separating Deceit’s and Honesty’s individual essences in each of the two new manikins, using only your Light Side powers. Do you think you can do it?

THOMAS: Okay, I’ll try.

[Thomas concentrates and the white aura reappears around him. Then he points at the manikin, and the aura flies to it. The manikin starts shaking, and a yellow glow surrounds it. Then Thomas starts struggling]

THOMAS: It’s… difficult. The two energies are too similar, I can barely distinguish them.

LOGAN: Concentrate harder, Thomas. You can do this.

[Thomas keeps concentrating, then the manikin blows up in a cloud of smoke. The aura disappears and Thomas starts panting. Patton and Virgil run to check on him. When the smoke vanishes, there are two manikins indeed, but they’re broken in pieces all over the ground]

DECEIT: Um… I suddenly don’t want to get out of here right now…

THOMAS: I’m sorry, guys, I failed… Gosh, what a mess of a Light Master I’m turning out to be…

LOGAN: Thomas, stop it. If you don’t start believing in yourself right at this moment, you’ll never make it. This takes a lot of strength, both of mind and of heart, but it also needs a good amount of faith. Faith in yourself and faith that you can do it.

THOMAS: Can I, though? I seriously doubt that I can.

LOGAN: Of course you can, Thomas. We have tried only once. This is only a matter of practice, concentration and faith. I believe in you, Thomas. You can do this, so start believing in yourself too. If not for you, for Honesty, and also for Roman and Virgil. We all depend on you. Gather all the strength that you have left and try again. And then again, and again. Because one thing is certain, you’re gonna do this. As my name is Logan Sanders, I’m not gonna let this be my first failure in teaching. Got it?

ROMAN: I do believe in you too, Thomas. If there’s one person in this world that can help me, that’s you. I would trust you with my life if need be, and I couldn’t be in better hands.

THOMAS: Roman…

VIRGIL: Roman speaks for all of us, Thomas.

PATTON: That’s right, kiddo.

HONESTY: Yes, this has only been a blooper in a rehearsal. When you get on stage and do it for real, you’ll get a standing ovation over your successful performance. You’ll see.

LOGAN: Stage? What stage? We’re doing this in a basketball court…

THOMAS: Guys, you’re gonna make me all emotional… Okay, I’ll try again.

[meanwhile, Logan has invoked away the pieces and invoked a new manikin and Deceit has already infused it with his essence again]

LOGAN: We’re ready here, Thomas. Now do your best.

[Virgil and Roman go back to their seats]

THOMAS: I’ll try.

LOGAN: Don’t try to do your best, Thomas, just do it. Put all your soul into this and all your guts, and do it.

THOMAS: Okay, I’ll do it.

[Thomas concentrates again. The aura appears again and Thomas projects it onto the manikin. The manikin starts shaking again and the yellow glow appears again surrounding it. Thomas starts struggling again]

DECEIT: You can do this…

HONESTY: Have faith.

PATTON: We’re rooting for you.

ROMAN: You’re capable of this and more.

VIRGIL: So much more…

LOGAN: So do it…

[The glow turns into a light so bright that the Sides have to turn back. After a few seconds, the light disappears and there are two manikins. One of them is dressed with Deceit clothes and the other with Honesty’s clothes]

LOGAN: Well done, Thomas.

THOMAS: I did it?

LOGAN: Of course you did it, like I knew you would.

[Thomas smiles and the Sides cheer]

LOGAN: Okay, enough cheering. The time has come. Are you ready, guys?

THOMAS: Wait, so soon? I thought this was a training session. I only managed to do it once.

LOGAN: There’s no time to waste, Thomas. Once you’ve managed to do it for the first time, you can manage to do it as many times as you want.

THOMAS: But what if…?

HONESTY: Logan is right. I don’t have much time left in this world. If I can’t be saved, I’d rather go with a blast, rather than disappear slowly and angstily. Besides, that’s not gonna happen, because you’re gonna do it, just like you did it before.

[Honesty disappears]

HONESTY: [speaking through Deceit’s body] Now go ahead and set me free, one way or another.

THOMAS: Don’t say that, Honesty.

HONESTY: Sorry, I’m Honesty. I’m allowed to express the way I feel without limitations. But don’t listen to me. I know you can do it.

LOGAN: [invoking the manikins away] Okay, Deceit, stand here, and don’t move a muscle.

DECEIT: [sighs] Here we go…

[Deceit goes where the manikins used to stand, he goes totally still and, after giving a quick anxious glance to the other Sides and Thomas, he closes his eyes]

LOGAN: Okay, Thomas, ready?

THOMAS: Ready.

LOGAN: Go.

[Thomas concentrates and the aura reappears. He projects the aura onto Deceit]

DECEIT: I’m feeling weird…

LOGAN: Don’t move…

[A yellow glow surrounds Deceit. This time, Thomas barely struggles, as if it was being easier than the other two times. Then the glow goes more intense, until Deceit is no longer seen. After a few moments, there’s a huge flash that, again, forces the other Sides to look back. After a while, the flash disappears. Deceit is there, but there’s no sign of Honesty]

DECEIT: I’m… I’m alive? But where is Honesty? I don’t feel him anymore. What has happened?

THOMAS: [scared] Oh, my gosh, don’t tell me that…

[a glow then appears next to Deceit. It is a yellow glow. It flickers to orange a couple of times while growing, but eventually stays yellow. After that, the glow disappears and Honesty appears there with his eyes closed]

DECEIT: Honesty? Are you okay?

[Honesty opens his eyes and looks around]

HONESTY: I… I think so… Did it work?

[Honesty slowly reaches a hand towards Deceit. He does the same. When the hands get close to touch, they both hesitate, but after a couple of seconds, they join their hands]

DECEIT: [happy] I can feel you!

HONESTY: [also happy] Me too. We both have a physical form again!

[Honesty and Deceit join in a hug and they both start crying. The other Sides join them. Thomas is there, with tears rolling down his cheeks]

LOGAN: Well done, Thomas. Now you have earned yourself the right to be called the Light Master.

HONESTY: Thomas, you saved me… Thank you… [runs to Thomas and hugs him] Thank you, thank you, thank you…

DECEIT: I always believed you could do it.

ROMAN: [smirks] Of course you did, who are we to judge anyway?

THOMAS: I’m so happy for you, guys. You wouldn’t get an idea.

DECEIT: It’s weird though. I think we’re separate in a different way than before. Because I still have all of Honesty’s memories, and weirdly enough, I can feel his thoughts right now, as if he was still inside of me.

HONESTY: Yeah, it happens the same with me. It’s like if I could read your mind right now.

DECEIT: It seems we’re still partly connected in a way. And I like it.

HONESTY: Me too.

LOGAN: Okay, now Thomas, it’s time for you to go back to the real world. You’ve got a plane to catch, remember? And you only have two hours left to get to the airport.

THOMAS: Oh, my goodness! I must go right now! [to the camera] Sorry for the abrupt goodbye, but until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals! Peace out!

[end card]

[Remus is in his room, making what looks like pancakes. Roman appears]

ROMAN: Hi, Remus.

REMUS: Roman? What are you doing here?

ROMAN: What? Can’t I pay a visit to my brother from time to time?

REMUS: Well, you’re your own Side. Want some pancakes?

ROMAN: Maybe… What’s in them?

REMUS: Flour, eggs, butter, some baking powder, and, my secret ingredient to give them taste, just a few little crispity-crunchy fluffy cockroaches.

ROMAN: [disgusted] Uh… I think I’ll pass, thank you.

REMUS: As you wish, but they’re delicious with whipped shaving cream. And now, what is it? I don’t believe you’ve come here just to see me. What do you want?

ROMAN: I really don’t want anything from you. Except…

REMUS: [pulling out a purse] Okay, how much is it gonna be? But I warn you, I still haven’t got the check this month, so don’t overdo it.

ROMAN: It’s not that. Besides, why would I want money for? This is the Mind Palace. There’s no need to pay for things here.

REMUS: [putting the pancakes on a plate, he grabs a fork] Tell that to my landlord. Do you have any idea how much that castle’s rent costs?

ROMAN: I’m trying to be serious, Remus.

[Roman and Remus sit down at the table. Remus invokes a bottle of shaving cream and puts a bunch over the pancakes]

REMUS: Well, you should know me by now. I can’t be serious and I’m gonna say the first thing that comes through my head all the time. Now, go on, I’m listening, kind of.

ROMAN: The truth is�� lately…

[Roman hesitates]

REMUS: Spit it out already!

ROMAN: …I feel lonely.

[Remus looks at Roman with a face of surprise. Obviously he didn’t expect to hear that from Roman and it caught him off guard]

REMUS: How… how is that so? You’ve got a husband and lots of friends. You’ve got a whole world of your own creation, even a family you created for yourself. How can anyone feel lonely with all of that?

ROMAN: You’re right, I’ve got a world I made myself. And I do have a lot of friends and a husband who loves me. But since I turned into a Dark Side, I can only see the other Sides for a couple of hours each day, and they can only spend brief minutes in my room, all for their own security. The rest of the day, I’m forced to stay alone in my room or wander around Sandersia. I could go visit my brother Roland and Ira in the castle, and I did see them a couple of times, but he’s a busy ruler. I don’t wanna be a burden to him and I keep my policy of not meddling in Sandersian life. So, I chose to stay alone, if that makes any sense.

REMUS: You overvalue things making sense. [eating his pancakes with whipped shaving cream, speaking while munching with his mouth open, bits of the pancakes fall everywhere] I don’t look for anything making sense, and look at me, I didn’t turn out so bad, did I?

[Remus swallows his food, then burps loudly with his mouth wide open. The smell of the shaving cream’s perfume reaches Roman’s nose and he smells it]

ROMAN: [beat, trying to keep a neutral face] Well… it could have been worse.

REMUS: [giggles] Yeah, you’re right. So, you feel lonely. What does that have to do with me?

ROMAN: Well, you’re my brother after all, and at this moment… you’re the only family I have left who will not be endangered by my presence.

REMUS: And so, you only come to me when everybody else is out of your reach. That’s not very complimentary. Not that I look for compliments, but still…

ROMAN: I know, and I’m sorry. There are lots of things I’ve done wrong with you. I’ll understand if you ask me to leave.

REMUS: I never said that. But it’s true that you’ve done lots of things wrong with me. And this is all quite funny if you see it through my perspective. What you’re going through is not even a thousandth part of what I’ve been going through all these years alone in the island. I could have tried to do like you and make myself some companions, but the first years I wasn’t strong enough to summon anything or anyone bigger than a coconut. Remember the size of the black cauldron, it wasn’t big enough to cook one serving of blood pudding. And by the time I got strength to summon bigger things, I had already got accustomed to my loneliness. I didn’t need anyone in my life anymore. [looking at Roman right in the eye with a reproachful look] Well… almost anyone. I needed you, my big brother, in my life, and you weren’t there for me.

ROMAN: [guilty] Yeah… You’re totally right, and you said it yourself the last time. This is a karmic punishment. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the brother you needed. And I know I don’t have a right to ask you for your company when I denied my company to you for so many years. To be honest, I took a lot of time to come here, because… I feared how you would react. I don’t mean that I thought you would go on a rampage again, but… I thought that you were going to reject me and throw me away from your room, and you would have had all the right to do so.

REMUS: I would never throw you away, Roman. Especially now.

ROMAN: What do you mean?

REMUS: Now that you’re going through this, you can understand what I went through better than anyone else, and I think that makes our bond closer than ever. Besides, how could I get you to compensate me for all these years if I threw you away? My needs haven’t changed a bit. I still need my big brother in my life. So you better give me the company you denied from me in the past, Roman. I’ll use my mace to make you stay with me if I have to.

ROMAN: [emotional] I will… Thank you, brother.

REMUS: Is it weird that I enjoy you calling me like that? I’m genuinely asking, because I don’t understand this weird heartwarming stuff.

[Roman makes a gesture to go hug Remus, but he stops]

REMUS: What’s wrong?

ROMAN: Could you… clean your sash a little bit? You’re all covered with pancakes and shaving cream…

REMUS: Oh, come on, Roman, just get carried away for once in your life!

[Remus hugs Roman, who shrugs and hugs Remus back]

ROMAN: Okay…

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sanders sides fic #fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #aspects and fanfics

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virgiliananxiety · 6 years ago

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The Dark and the Light

GUYS I FINALLY GET TO POST THIS

This is the first chapter for my fic for the @sanderssidesbang! It will update approximately every two weeks, but updates won’t start for at least another three weeks (I really need a break from this fic). Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: Mild violence and non-graphic gore, panic attack

Read it on AO3

This was really not how Virgil had planned on his evening going.

First off, the date he had been on was actually going pretty well. The guy was nice, and seemed kind of into the whole “dark and mysterious” aesthetic. That was, probably, until Virgil got a text with his latest assignment. Which started in five minutes.

Secondly, once he reached the location, a small concrete warehouse, which housed the head personnel of Deceit’s main rival drug ring, there were...complications. The mission was simple, go in, get the information he needed, slit the throats of whoever saw him, and get out.

Complications came in the form of the little asshole who saw him not being too cocky to call for backup.

“Deceit?” He snarled in response to the chatter in his earpiece. He was hidden in the shadows behind a crate, but by this point, the shadows were starting to fill the room. “What do you want?”

“Anxiety, dear,” Fuck, one of them is right there. “It’s come to light that some of our intel on this base was a little...off,” No shit. Left hook, hit him with a few more shadows, dart to the neck. Why the fuck did he have to scream? Think, Virgil, think! “It turns out that there are about fifty guards on the premises, and from what I’m seeing of traffic patterns, more are on their way.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Footsteps, there were more coming. But suddenly, the room went completely black. Not shadows black, that would take up too much of Virgil’s energy, but the pitch darkness was–

“Unfortunately, I am not. Though I did shut off their power,” That would explain it. “Which should buy you a little extra time. So I would get that information and get out quick, if I were you.”

Of course, because it was fucking Deceit, he still needed to get the information. Great.

Looking down at the map on his wristband, the exit from the main storage room was only about 35 feet away. But in that 35 feet, there were seven sentries. Just fucking dandy.

The first was, well, an idiot. They charged blindly, and Virgil blocked their throws easily, flipping them over his knee. The second was more tactful, parrying as he jabbed. Their dance lasted for a while, the preamble to each move hidden in the darkness, before Virgil finally stabbed a tranquilizer into their neck.

The third was fast, but not fast enough. The fourth fell after an elbow to the solar plexus, and the fifth slashed Virgil with a jagged blade before he knocked them down. Shit, that might be deep. No time to think about it, and he hit the sixth, but they swept a leg behind him, knocking him clean off of his feet. He landed on his side. Hard. Shadows in their mouth, down to the lungs, and...release as they let out their last breath. Dammit, Virgil, why’d you have to follow that instinct? The power flickered back on, and Virgil hit the seventh with a quick dart to the neck, now that he could finally see. He could feel through his shadows, but that didn’t mean he could see in the dark.

Third left, up the stairs, override the lock, down the hall to the main hard drive. And he ran, long midnight purple jacket trailing behind him as he jumped up the stairs. In the distance more footsteps trailed behind him, but he cloaked himself in shadows, keeping close to the walls. Pressing the device Logan had given him (though he’d modified it for more...sinister usage) against the lock, Virgil took stock of his injuries. Cut in the crook between his left shoulder and neck, scrapes and bruises lining his sides, and even through his gloves he could feel his knuckles splitting. Again.

The unlocking mechanism gave a satisfied click, and Virgil shouldered the door open, reminding himself of the additional bruise he had there. He broke into a sprint again, the servers were finally in view.

But because Virgil wasn’t planning on downloading anything remotely tonight, his software wasn’t activated. So, he had to call his roommate.

“Hey, Roman?”

“What’s up Virgil? You need me to pick you up from somewhere?” It was a well know fact that Roman was the only one in their friend group with a car.

“No, I’m good. Is Logan there?” Virgil and Logan were supposed to meet up for post date (over) analysis about seven minutes ago. Logan was never late.

“Yeah, one sec.” There was a rustling as Roman’s cell was passed from one side of the room to the other, where Logan was, most likely, parked in his customary spot in Virgil’s desk chair.

“Hey, Lo, I’m really sorry I’m running late.” He heard a huff from the other side of the line, but knew that Logan didn’t really mind. “But I need you to do something on my computer.”

“Is this a simple request? Or one that would require a seperate... technological interfacing?” Virgil could practically see him skeptically eyeing Roman from across the room. Virgil was the only one that Logan had ever told about his powers, how he was able to interface with most technology, and how that allowed him to develop some inventions of his own.

“Simple. I just need you to log in, and press activate on the window that’ll pop up.” He heard the keyboard clicking as Logan typed in his password, and then a mouse click as he activated the software, punctuated by the affirmative beep from Virgil’s wristband. DOWNLOADING FILES: 3% COMPLETE.

“What do you need remote downloading for?” Logan asked, seemingly trying to pass the time. 16% COMPLETE.

“Oh, I had to stop at the library and get a book, but I didn’t feel like getting a thumb drive out.” He felt bad lying to his best friend, but he knew that if Logan found out, it would result in a) Logan trying to get Virgil to stop, and ending up captured or killed by Deceit, b) Logan trying to help Virgil, and ending up captured and used by Deceit, or c) Logan trying to get Virgil out of his predicament, and ending up captured or killed by Deceit.

What was his predicament, exactly? Well, that traces back a long way, through many past traumas, foster homes, packed bags, and escape attempts. Back to when a man with scales on his face told a scared 14 year old boy that he could take him in and make the shadows stop. But that man ended up not being so nice, and now Virgil was trapped.

Footsteps broke through Virgil’s thoughts, but they were far off. 47% COMPLETE. “Logan, I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” He ended the call, cutting off his friend’s goodbye, which he was surely going to hear about later.

He scanned his map, and found that there was only one other way out, straight up through an abandoned elevator shaft. Clambering onto one of the server towers, he hunched in the dark as the first hostile entered.

“I don’t see anything here,” they said into a crackling walkie-talkie. Virgil took another slow step, but the circuit below him creaked. Shit. “Wait, hold that thought.” 89% COMPLETE.

“Fuck it,” Virgil cursed under his breath, and broke into a sprint, his feet pounding against the metal. He heard the sentry yell something into his comm system, and Virgil fired a dart messily over his shoulder, he didn’t have the energy for more shadows.

93% COMPLETE. He raced to the end of the room. 94% COMPLETE. More guards charged into the room. 95% COMPLETE. Bullets whizzed past him, one passing only a few inches from his temple. 96% COMPLETE. He skidded to a stop as he reached the end of the room, a large piece of plywood blocking his exit. 97% COMPLETE. The running footsteps were coming closer, and Virgil traced the outline of the board with his fingers. 98% COMPLETE. He attempted to pry the plank from the wall, but couldn’t find an opening. 99% COMPLETE. He felt another bullet scrape by him, and it went straight through the plywood, which meant it was thin enough to be broken through.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and body slammed through the opening, bursting through in a hurricane of splinters.

“Download complete.” An automated voice sounded from his wristband. Well thank god it’s complete, lest I die falling with an incomplete download.

Virgil fired a grappling hook, and pulled himself up onto the roof, surveying the city below him. The lights were beautiful at this time of night, and the lit windows framed by dark buildings looked like the stars.

But he couldn’t stand there for long, for the night wasn’t over yet.

Roman hadn't had an extremely clear vision of how his night would go, but this was definitely not it.

"There are only eight planets! Pluto is essentially a glorified moon!" He practically yelled. He had progressively grown closer to the other man, and they were now a mear couple of feet from each other.

“Falsehood! There’s a current debate discussing the redefinition of ‘planet’, which would make your every argument null and void, and Pluto securely in planetary status.” Logan crossed his arms, nudging his glasses further up his nose. “In other words, Viva la Pluto, and fuck you.” He raised an eyebrow smugly, and Roman opened his mouth to retort.

“Hey, guys,” Virgil stumbled through the entrance to the dorm, clutching his left side. “I hope I’m not too late for some spicy space symposium.” He smirked, but winced in pain.

“Yeah, you’re not participating in anything right now.” Roman walked over and clutched Virgil’s shoulders, lowering him to the bed. “I think you just need some rest,” He motioned for Logan to dim the lights, and he reached over and turned on Virgil’s desk lamp. “And we’ll have you all set by morning to talk about Pluto.”

“M’kay,” Virgil murmured, allowing Roman to shrug off his sweater, and Roman winced at the open gash in his shoulder. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was at least the fourth time Virgil had come home banged up like this, and it was starting to seriously concern his roommate. “‘M gonna sleep now.”

“Okay.” Roman took a last look at Virgil’s already sleeping form and went to go grab his medical supplies. His nursing-theater double major had few perks, but being able to patch up his friends at any time was something that he cherished. Especially after Virgil had said “no hospitals”.

Roman returned from his desk to see Logan hunched over his friend, worry painting his features. As much as the other man tried to uphold his apathetic facade, Roman had seen several cracks throughout the years, several being caused by Virgil.

“Logan, can you stroke his hair to keep him calm while I look at this cut? It may be deep and need stitches.” Logan nodded, and Roman took a look and the cut. It definitely needed stitches, which meant that Roman would have to make a quick run to the nursing lab. “Ok, Xavier, you keep him here. If he wakes up, give him water, half a protein bar, and then back to sleep. Find his phone in whatever pocket it’s in, and confiscate it. He needs to rest.” He grabbed his jacket, and broke off into a sprint to get more supplies.

Several hours and seven stitches later, Roman fell back onto his bed. Logan had left only a few minutes ago, but now Roman was alone, trying to shut down his mind. But truly, how could he when his crus–roommate was lying there with a gash in his shoulder and bruises lining his body. When the boy who put on makeup every morning to cover the bags under his eyes had come home beaten and battered once a week for the past three months, but this time was the only time that he’d let Roman take care of him.

Though Logan had assured Roman that Virgil wasn’t in an abusive relationship, he couldn’t help but jump to that conclusion. He couldn’t help but remember his mom’s screams in the middle of the night. Images of dents in plaster and bloodied tissues clogged his mind, and he felt himself grabbing a piece of blanket and balling it in his fist.

It would be fine. They, being Logan, Roman, and Patton, would ask Virgil what was going on tomorrow morning. Tonight, though, Roman just really needed to get some sleep.

“What the fu–” Virgil awoke with a start as someone shook his shoulder. He sat up and immediately regretted it, groaning as pain shot up his side and into his shoulder.

“Hey, kiddo, glad to see you’re awake.” Virgil turned to see his three closest friends standing over him. Patton gave him a small smile, but there was visible concern overtaking all three of them. Judging by the bandages on his shoulder, and the fact that he was wearing a clean hoodie, they were going to ask him what happened last night.

“Virgil, you know that we only want to best for you, right?” Logan asked.

“What is this, an intervention?” Virgil murmured. What the hell was he going to tell them? That he could control shadows and drain people’s life energy by being in physical contact with them for too long? Yeah, that really wasn’t going to work.

“No, but we do need to know why the hell I needed to put seven stitches in you last night.” Virgil looked up to see Roman leaning against the wall, and he seemed almost...hurt? Jesus, the last thing Virgil wanted to do was hurt the man he was in love wi–his roommate. This was no time for intrusive gay thoughts.

“I–I fell?” He tried to keep his his tone level, but it ended up coming out as more of a question. In response, Roman slammed his fist against the wall.

“Onto a fucking knife?” He exclaimed, and the hurt in his voice turned to anger. Patton placed a soft hand onto his arm, but Roman shook it off as he stepped forward. “You came stumbling back here, an hour late for your and Logan’s post-date. You were delirious from pain, and I had to go to the fucking storage in the lab to get shit to stitch you up, and we’re extremely lucky Terrence was there last night. I’ve seen the missing medical supplies in my kit for months, Virgil, so for the last time, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” He raised his voice to a yell at the end, causing Virgil to wince back.

“Roman!” Patton turned on his Dad Voice, and sternly turned on the other man. “I understand that you are upset, but you have no right to jump on Virgil like this!”

“Look, it’s my fault.” Virgil murmured, and felt the pit in his stomach from lying grow a bit more. “I didn’t want to tell you guys this, but after dates I’ve been walking through...some of the less accepting neighborhoods. Looking for fights, or to get beat up.” It felt awful to lie to them, but truly, what choice did he have? “I guess it’s a form of self sabotage, or something.”

“Jesus, Virge.” Roman stepped closer, this time to plop down next to him on the bed and place a comforting hand on his thigh. Which sent more tingles through Virgil than he would willingly admit. “I’m so sorry. Please, in the future, call me, I’ll pick you up from wherever, whenever.”

“It’s my fault. I’ll try not to do it as much,” Or rather, he would hide it better.

“Or at all.” Patton lovingly rubbed his back, leaning into his side. And Virgil felt like literal human garbage.

Roman had always loved the snow. But that was before he had to fight some guy who wore all dark and conjured shadows in it.

He hurled another branch at the guy, dubbed by the papers “Anxiety”, catching him in the side. He didn’t want to hurt the guy, but on the other hand, he...really wanted to hurt this guy. Or at least do equivalent damage to what had been done to his pride.

Before this, Roman had been a freelance hero, or at least your friendly neighborhood super-strengthened and bulletproof man. He was able to rescue kids from doing dumb shit, stop a couple of drug deals from going down, that kind of thing. But that was before some dumb asshole in an annoying cool jacket starting fucking with him.

At the start, it was just interfering with his anti-drug operations. But then it became active antagonization, ruining everything Roman tried to help. And when the person didn’t fight with bullets, only really bad lighting, it became an issue.

“You didn’t have to kill the people in this ring!” Roman shouted as he circled around his emo enemy. “You could have just given them to the actual justice system!”

“If you knew anything about me,” A shadow swept towards Roman, curling around his neck and slightly infiltrating his mask. “You’d know,” he motioned a hand upwards, and Roman found himself having trouble breathing, “I couldn’t do that.” Roman tried to run after him, but in a rush of darkness, Anxiety ran off through the night.

“Virgil, dear, it’s been a while since you’ve been down here. What’s the occasion?” Deceit didn’t even bother to look up from his table, writing down some formula or another.

“I need to see Elliott about the new tech and get patched up. I would go to their place, but they said they’re here?” After coming out as non-binary, the hyper-intelligent and slightly emo kid had found themself homeless, and went through the same Deceit process Virgil did. Except after much negotiation, they were paid, and so they lived in a small studio apartment in the part of town where no one asked questions, only using Deceit’s lab when absolutely necessary.

“And here I thought you’d come to see your dear old ferocious father figure.” Deceit drawled, turning around and gesturing towards the staircase at the far end of the room. “He’s downstairs, and make sure you’re good as new before coming up.”

Virgil backed towards the stairs, having known Deceit long enough to not leave his back unwatched. He finally turned to walk down the stairs, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, and hearing a soft laugh emit from the other man.

“Hey, Ell, what’s going on?” Elliott was positioned at a microscope, and something was heating up on the bunsen burner next to it. They held up one finger, and wagged it towards a bench, motioning for him to sit. Virgil shouldered off his jacket, wincing as he touched bruised skin. Pulling up his shirt, he did a preliminary assessment, but there were just scrapes and bruises. He also needed a little energy boost, because the guy was seemingly impermeable, making Virgil’s job a bit harder.

“Ok. I’m done here. What’s it this time?” Elliott stripped off his gloves, grabbing his rather eccentric med kit off a shelf.

“Asshole threw a tree at me.” Virgil grumbled as they took a closer look. “Just slather it with your magic ointment shit and let me go.”

“No, dickhead, there’s to big of a surface area, and it’s too close to your intestines because you have a zero percent body fat.” Elliott grabbed a tube, and started applying small amounts to the already scabbing area. “This might sting a bit, start talking to distract you from it.”

“How’s...Mitchell doing?” Virgil emphasized the syllables of Elliott’s boyfriend with a particular hatred. “Any new assholic behaviors I should know about?” They rolled their eyes, starting to strap a bandage onto Virgil’s side.

“He’s fine, and we’re fine. I started seeing this new therapist, too.” They finished the bandage, and whatever that cream was really started to sting.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Dr. Picani.” Elliott nodded, smiling, they seemed to actually like this one. Unlike the last guy, who was, to say the least, a transphobic asshole. Virgil didn’t like to waste innocent lives, but there was a special place on his knife for those who hurt the one he considered a little sibling. “His methods are...unorthodox, but I think it’s going to work well.”

“And how does your boyfriend feel about you seeing him?” Virgil asked, eyebrows pinched in concern. Elliott shrunk back, though slightly, and grabbed another product to help with the bruises.

“It doesn’t matter.” That place on his knife? Mitchell was starting to qualify. “Speaking of love lives, though, how’s it with you-know-who?” They raised an eyebrow, slightly wiggling their shoulders.

“Fuck you,” Virgil lightly punched them in the shoulder, but couldn’t help the blushing grin from his face. “He’s extra, beautiful, strong as hell, and the other day he was singing to himself while he got ready. His voice is just incredible, I can’t believe that I live with an angel.” He stopped himself, meeting Elliott’s eyes and their knowing look. “And also, incredibly out of my league.”

“You’re wrong, but that’s something for another time.” Elliott stepped back, allowing Virgil’s shirt to fall over his injuries. “Those should only take a few hours to heal up, bounce coffee shops until the bandage adhesive starts to crust and loosen. Then you should be good to go home, but make sure to use the lotion I gave you every day to keep your skin okay. I just have one more thing, but I think we should talk as we walk, I need to get home.” They glanced over to the corner where they and Virgil had discovered the bug placed by Deceit. It wasn’t always running, but they had no way of knowing when it was.

“Okay,” Virgil grabbed his bag, trading his long coat for a hoodie, “Let’s go, then.”

They sat at a bus stop, waiting for a bus to pull up for Elliott. The wind blew Virgil’s purple streaked hair over to the other side, causing his companion to smirk. He watched as they fiddled with the hem of their skirt, obviously nervous for whatever they had to tell Virgil.

“I had a breakthrough.” Elliott jerked their head up to meet Virgil’s eyes, and stammered on despite his incredulous gaze. “On the fear toxin-esque chemical? Y’know the one he’s been forcing me to make?”

“Shit.” Was the most eloquent thing Virgil could muster.

“I haven’t tested it on humans, but the chemicals should act, when inhaled, as an extreme anxiety amplifier.” They looked so small, and so scared. Elliot had once said that their brain would be the death of them one day, and by their current state, Virgil couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t be. “Virgil, this thing that I’ve created, it could cause panic attacks that paralyze people. I��I don’t want him to have it.” At the last part their voice dropped to a whisper, and tears started to track down their face. Elliott sniffed and rubbed their cheeks, not looking up to meet Virgil’s eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, hey,” Virgil crouched in front of them. “Breathe. I’ll figure something out, I promise. Just keep breathing.” They took a shuddering breath, matching Virgil’s strokes on their hand. “It’s okay. Just go home, hug your sister, and take a shower. It’ll be okay.” And as much as he wanted to believe that, Virgil didn’t know if he could.

Roman burst the door to his dorm open, expecting the apartment to as empty as he left it. Instead, he was confronted with his purple haired roommate. Shirtless. From the back, he was all lean muscle and sticking out shoulder blades, the curve of his hips falling into his perfectly shaped–

“Roman?” Virgil turned, pausing the toweling of his hair. Roman ripped his eyes up to Virgil’s (only after a glance at his abs, Roman could appreciate art), and nervously scratched his neck. “I wasn’t expecting you to come home this late.”

“Ditto, dude.” Look anywhere but him, you gay motherfucker, anywhere but him. “You’ve been like a ghost the past couple weeks.” It was true, they’d barely seen each other except for studying and occasional ramen breaks since Thanksgiving.

“Yeah, that’s my bad, I’ve been working on a film project that’s mostly being shot at night.” Virgil explained, pulling on a hoodie. Roman walked over to his bed, dropping down and kicking off his shoes. “What’s your excuse, Mr. Double Major?”

“Well, my fucking double major,” Roman laid back onto his pillow, relaxing a bit for the first time that day. “But also, trying to think of a Secret Santa gift for Logan?”

“Oh, that’s a toughie. I got Patton, and I have no ideas, ugh.” Virgil sighed into his hands, plopping cross legged onto his bed. He stuck out a lip, blowing the bangs out of his faces, which was far more endearing than Roman would ever admit.

“But then of course there’s finals,” Roman pulled out his laptop, opening the study spreadsheet that Logan had helped him make. When they had been roommates Roman’s freshman year, the tension and hatred between the two would take a knife to cut. But over time, new friends, growth, and two “frienterventions” (the name was Patton’s idea), they had overcome their differences.

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” Virgil stretched up, his hoodie riding up above his hips, and Roman found himself staring. Not at his body, but rather the faded purple bruises that adorned his hips. Virgil’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but after following Roman’s eyes, he dropped his arms, pulling his sweatshirt over his hips.

“Virgil–” Roman started to reach out, only to be cut off by the other man.

“I need to go shower.” He all but sprinted out of the dorm room, leaving Roman to fall back onto his bed, a million thoughts racing through his mind. And not a single one was good.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. He saw the bruises, even though Virgil had been so careful. He’d been so careful for two months not to come home if he was too beaten up, he’d been so careful to slather on Elliot’s cream whenever he could. He’d been so fucking careful, and yet Roman had still seen the marks.

He threw his towel over a hook, stripping down and turning the shower up as hot as it could go. It burned his skin, but he deserved it, deserved to have all his flesh stripped from his body for hurting him. Deserved to feel the ache on his sides turn to a roaring fire as he pressed inwards, curling into himself. Deserved to feel the hard force of metal on his back as he slammed into the wall of the shower stall, doing his best to breathe as the tears fell, but the oxygen was catching in his throat, and he couldn’t force it down. He stood there for a few minutes, and felt shadows start to envelope him, holding, comforting.

Slowly, he turned the water down, his energy drained from the tight spiral of shadows that still curled around his body.

“Virgil?” Logan’s voice filtered through the steam. Virgil heard the “shink” of the outer shower curtain opening and a muffled “What the hell?”

He turned, trying to collect his racing thoughts. “Logan, what the fuck are you doing?” Virgil thickened this shadows around his body, and he felt the energy leave his body. Logan pushed through the last curtain, a look of pure shock coming over his features. “This isn’t gay fanfiction, you can’t just waltz in here.”

“Well, at least explain all of this.” Logan asked, waving his hand through the lingering shadows. “Is it–is it some sort of concentrated element? It’s fascinating.”

“What? Okay, no, that isn’t–they’re shadows, Logan.” Virgil clenched and unclenched his fist. “Will you please let me put on some damn clothes?”

“Fine. But you are going to explain everything to me as soon as you’re done.” Logan crossed his arms, and Virgil wrapped a towel around himself, the shadows finally dissipating as he exhaled. “Seriously, though, how does it work? Do you conjure them, what the range on it–”

“LOGAN!” Virgil yelled, more forcefully than he intended. “I just had a fucking panic attack because Roman saw the bruises and found out I’ve been lying to him for months. Also, yes, I can manipulate shadows, it’s a sort of dark mattered energy that I’m not exactly certain how works.” Logan just stared at him, eyes wide in front of Virgil’s outburst. “It’s the reason that I kept running away from the homes, until I was fourteen and a fucking criminal mastermind or whatever you want to call him picked me up off the goddamn street.” He could feel the words slurring as he worked himself up, but he needed to tell someone, even if it was just shouting it at his best friend. “You know that guy, the one the news has dubbed ‘Anxiety’? That’s fucking me. I’ve been doing this shit for nine. Fucking. Years. And I’m trapped, and the only thing I can do is keep working for him, keep killing and stealing and breaking for him. I have to keep doing this because if I don’t, he’ll torture and kill everyone I love, and make me watch. I’m so scared, Logan. I’m so fucking scared that I can’t breathe sometimes.” His voice cracked on the last words, and a sob finally escaped his body. Logan reached out, but all Virgil could do was push him away, throw on his clothes, and escape into the starless night.

“Hello?” Phone calls from unknown numbers were something most people were accustomed to, but Elliott didn’t get four in a row from the same number at 1:37 in the morning most nights. Well, five, counting this one.

“Hello. I am attempting to reach Elliott?” They weren’t sure what was going on, but the person on the other side sounded panicked, so they sat up and closed their laptop.

“Yeah, that’s me. What do you need?” Elliot replied, and a heavy exhale came through the phone speakers.

“I’m Logan Xavier, and I’m trying to find Virgil Sanders.” As soon as they heard the words, something clicked inside Elliott. Virgil’s best friend Logan, who appeared to have been affected by the same injections that Elliott and Virgil had, and that his powers were interfacing with technology. How Logan didn’t know about their mutual friend’s shadows, and how Elliott was saved in a private section of Virgil’s computer and phone that could only be accessed if you knew where to look. Or, they guessed, if your brain could automatically hack any system you touched.

“He told you?”

“Yes.” Logan paused, and the weight of his words settled on Elliott’s shoulders. “And now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere, and you’re the only one in his contacts I don’t recognize.”

“Yeah,” Elliot threw on a pair of jeans and ran a hand through their hair. “Give me two hours, I can find him.” Logan let out a relieved sigh as Elliott pulled their jacket off its hook. “Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Just let me talk to him, okay? I know where to look, and I know what to do.” They could practically feel the older man opening his mouth to interject. “As good as you are for Virgil in a lot of situations, this isn’t one of them.”

“I understand. Thank you, Elliott. Goodbye.” The line went dead, and Elliott opened their door, stepping out into the city at night.

“You know, sitting on the roof of an abandoned building at 2:30 in the morning kind of marks you as emo.” Virgil looked up from his stare at the tops of surrounding buildings to see Elliott climbing up the last rungs of the access ladder.

“And you joining me kind of marks you as one too.” He responded, smirking through his chapped lips and smudged makeup. “How did you know to look for me?”

“Logan called.” Virgil felt the smirk fall off his face as he turned back to the streets below him. “And we don’t have to talk about him.” He heard footsteps come closer as they neared the ledge he was perched on. “Just scooch over.”

“Well, how did you know where to find me?” Virgil couldn’t help but lean into his friend as he stared at the cars passing by.

“There’s trackers embedded in all your coats, and this was the third abandoned rooftop I checked.” Elliott chuckled under their breath. “Pigeons are much less impressed with my witty one-liners.”

“I have to keep them somewhere, and there’s a lot of abandoned rooftops in this city.” Virgil said in half-hearted protest. The coats were good, they had everything he’d ever needed on a job. And the fabric was warm and comforting, an he didn’t have the energy for any more shadows to blanket himself with.

Elliott leaned back, raising both hands in mock submission. “I wasn’t judging, just observing.”

“Well, they are made by a master of all seam work.” Virgil laughed, a real smile finally adorning his face.

“You flatter me, V.” They joined in his laughter, and Virgil cracked a few more jokes, letting the conversation flow into the night, the sounds of the city drowned out by the sounds of their happiness.

By 3:26, Roman had completely given up on sleep.

After Logan had left around 1:15 with Virgil’s contacts on his phone, Roman knew the night would be long. He’d poured a cup of tea, and cracked opened his textbook, attempt to read about possible respiratory issues in postanesthesia care unit.

By 1:43, Roman had completely given up on studying.

He opened his laptop, a fresh face mask applied to his skin. It was going to be a long night, so he figured that a little bit of Riverdale couldn’t hurt. As it turns out, after watching an episode and a half in his bed, Roman didn’t really care about who was a Southside Serpent and who kissed who. So, naturally, he decided to go to sleep.

That had clearly not panned out.

So that’s how he’d ended up at here, at 3:26, scrolling through his music library to find something to soothe his ever-heightening nerves. He clicked on a random Spotify mix, and opening guitar chords filtered from his speakers, Rihanna’s voice resounding through his speakers.

I think I’ve had enough.

I might get a little drunk.

Roman smiled, and for some reason the song reminded him of others. He started queuing up what he needed, slowly beginning to sing along to the woman he hailed as a queen.

Cause all of my kindness,

Is taken taken for weakness.

He laid back onto his bed, closing his eyes and losing himself for a moment. For a moment, every thought of Virgil, every thought of the purple clad villain almost constantly plaguing his thoughts, every thought about his classes and his upcoming show, they all dissipated. For a moment, he was lost in the beats and instrumentals and melodies. For a moment, he was lost and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be found.

But that moment was shattered as a very tired looking, beaten up Virgil stumbled through the door. He looked up with surprised as he saw Roman was still awake, and fumbled to pull off his headphones.

Roman stood up, his instinct telling him go to him, comfort him, before the events of earlier came crashing down onto his shoulders. He pulled back, giving Virgil some space, and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“Virgil, I’m sorry about earlier. I overstepped my bounds, it was really uncool of me. I just want to apolo–”

“Roman, stop,” Virgil cut him off, his voice firm and low. Roman looked up at him, and watched a tense, forced smile plaster itself on his friend’s face. “Please. Can we just, can we just talk about this sometime else? I can’t–I can’t really talk about it right now.” He moved to sit on his bed, shedding his long coat and headphones. “Oh, is this that album you wanted me to listen to?”

Roman had completely forgotten the music that was still playing, and he tuned in to hear the first chorus of a song he’d been begging Virgil to listen to for months. Deciding to let the subject change, he switched his queue to the rest of the album, leaning back on his bed once more.

He wanted to say something, to comfort Virgil, but every time he opened his mouth the words died in his throat. There was nothing he could say, nothing he could do. There were his powers, of course, but how could he use them to protect Virgil when he didn’t know who was hurting him? If he asked, he could end up in a state like tonight, or worse. There was just no right thing to say or do, and Roman turned the thought over and over in his mind until a restless sleep finally claimed him.

#vic fic #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfic #fanfic #ts #thomas sanders #sanders sides #fanfiction

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youkaiangel · 6 years ago

Text

That awkward moment when... - WH Fic

Pairing: Klaus/???

Genre: smut/humour - NSFW

Words: 1700

Summary: even single men have needs.

A/N: there is currently Elias’ Sequel Super Early Bird period, a brand new collection event series with double boosting, and I have eighty-something story tickets to burn, but someone got in my head and made me want this smut trash fic instead god dammit. Do not ask where the idea for this came from.

Creds to @stephdaninja for brainstorming this with me. Enjoy!

***

His eyes passed over the words, the sentences, the paragraphs on the pages before him, but his mind was not there. His mind was still stuck in that classroom doorway, stuck on... that woman.

They’d been short one professor that afternoon, Professor Schuyler having fallen victim to a fledgling student’s errant spell and requiring urgent medical assistance, so Headmaster Randolph had “called in a favour” and somehow managed to get a replacement teacher within the hour. Since the replacement was teaching Elias’ class for the afternoon, Klaus dismissed his own students five minutes early and made his way to Fortitudo’s classroom. Randolph would no doubt appreciate a first hand report on the performance of the substitute.

What he expected was a surly old man, long since retired and lost his edge for teaching, let alone holding the students’ attention. What he found though as he peered through the window in the classroom door was every student, or the male ones filling the first three rows at least, attentively focused on the front of the room, on that woman.

She couldn’t have been more than 30, although she carried herself with an air of maturity that made her seem much older. That figure though, and her beautiful pale skin, was definitely a twenty-something-year-old, straight out of a teenage boy’s wet dream. Her long legs, perched precariously in black heels high enough to emasculate every boy in the room, were wrapped in sheer black nylon to her mid thigh topped with a band of black lace. Between the top of the lace and the hem of her dangerously short tight skirt was a strip of skin so beautiful and elegant, revealing the muscles in her legs that flexed with every step she took. The high-waisted skirt gave the appearance it was of an appropriate length and simply sitting too high, but if the woman bent at the hip at all she’d be revealing much more than the back of her toned thighs. A white blouse was tucked in to the pencil skirt, exposing almost as much as it was concealing. The fabric pulled taut over the front of her exaggerated chest, the low neckline baring the lacy tops of her white bra and cleavage every boy in the room was dreaming of landing his face in.

If that weren’t enough, the line of her long neck, decorated by the flowing curls of her silken black hair, led his gaze up to her stunning sweetheart face, luscious red lips and crystalline blue eyes decorated with long dark lashes. “Beautiful” was an insult to this goddess of a woman.

Klaus watched from outside the door as the woman crossed back to the podium at the front of the room, turning her side to the students and her back to the door. He stared in disbelief as the woman bent forward to reach into her small black bag on the floor. Her skirt pulled up and while no one in the room would’ve had a view of anything more than the side of her thigh, from his vantage point Klaus saw everything. The sweet round cheeks of her arse formed little shadows at the tops of her thighs, while the prize between her legs was barely covered by a silken black thong, the tiny strip of fabric disappearing between the roundness of her cheeks.

That moment had been playing on his mind all afternoon. He’d managed to have a somewhat coherent conversation with the well-educated, professional woman regarding her teaching of the class, and to spare her the humiliation he decidedly did not tell her he had seen her performance, but he suspected she already knew what he’d seen just from the red in his cheeks. She was smart, captivating, mysterious, eloquent, all things he desired in a woman. And she was definitely attractive.

Those red lips were possibly one of her most beautiful features, though it was hard to pick any one that was the best. Those red lips were so luscious and soft, he couldn’t help but imagine how they would feel if he ran his thumb across them. Would her lipstick smudge?

Klaus shook himself, trying to rattle away the fantasy. He was supposed to be revising the reading material for his class tomorrow, but he just couldn’t focus. That woman had stirred something inside him that needed to be sated.

He cast a glance at his bed, then to the dorm room door. Randy was still in the office, and when Klaus had left earlier that evening Randy had at least five more hours worth of work to get done. Could he trust that Randy would still be in the office for at least seven more minutes?

It was worth the risk.

Klaus closed the book, placed it on the desk, cast his spell to dim the lights and cross over to his bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. Thinking of that woman had already gotten him aroused, his pants now putting painful pressure on his crotch. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants before laying down on his back, one hand reaching down to free himself of the restrictive fabric.

One stroke sent shivers through his body, every muscle jittering with pleasure. His mind instantly went back to the beautiful woman as he continue to run his hand up and down, wondering if her touch would be gentle or firm, delicate or vigorous. He thought of those rich red lips leaning down, forming a perfect O as she inched towards his head.

Seven minutes would not be required, and he felt comfortable that Randy would not be back before he had finished. Resigned to his desires, he leant over to the side of his bed, opening the top drawer of his side table to retrieve the jar of hand cream. He quickly opened the jar and scooped out two fingers of the faintly scented cream, before carefully replacing the lid, the jar, the drawer, and returning to his supine position.

He smeared the cold cream across the head of his cock and carefully spread it, slicking up his palm in the process to run up and down the length of him. That particular cream was not ideal for this use, but it would suffice, and it wasn’t going to be a long exercise anyway.

Where was I?

His mind flicked back to thoughts of the woman, her beautiful and soft lips wrapping around him, taking him into her mouth, her warm tongue swirling around his sensitive head. Just the thought of her mouth on him sent a warmth pulsing through his body, inching him closer to orgasm. The woman looked experienced, and Klaus imagined she would have no difficulty swallowing the full length of him. Okay, maybe a little difficulty.

His hand worked faster, harder, focussing on the sensitive tip of his cock. As much as the idea of those beautiful lips was tantalising him, the sight of her bent over, long and slender legs pushing back towards him seemed to bring a more fiery passion to his grip. He imagined himself crossing over to her bent forward like that, reaching up her short skirt to take hold of her silky black thong and drawing it down, revealing her small, plump lips and hot, wet opening. In front of his brother’s entire class, he would undo his pants and sink his cock deep inside her excited body, drawing a smooth, honeyed sigh from her supple lips. Over and over he would push his hard cock into her tiny, delicate hole, sending waves of pleasure through her, causing her body to clench tightly around him and pulling continual moans from her throat in increasingly higher tones. Every stroke brought him closer to sweet release, only seconds away.

‘I’m finished Klaus!’

Randy’s cheerful voice struck Klaus with a jolt of absolute terror and stopped him dead in his tracks as the door burst open, tearing him away from his fantasy and filling the room with light from the hall. Even with the light behind him, Klaus could see Randy’s eyes wide, and mouth hanging open as he took in the situation. Like the deer in headlights, Klaus was completely unable to move.

Randy bent forward to sweep up Taffy and turned from the room quicker than he had entered, crying over his shoulder as he slammed the door, ‘sorry Klaus!!’

Fuck!

The moment had been completely lost, having locked eyes with the cotton candy haired nuisance. He gritted his teeth and raised a dry hand to his forehand, trying desperately to resist the urge to punch something and failing miserably, sinking his fist in the bed beside his hip. There was no possible way Randy could’ve finished all that work so quickly and he was furious at both the fact that his work was either half-assed or incomplete, and that he had been caught red-handed in a humiliating moment of desperation and desire. He had never before hated having Randy as his roommate as much as he did in that moment.

Somewhere at the other side of the boys’ dorm was a breathless Randy, desperate to catch air, having run as far as he could as quick as he could, but unable to, being doubled over and clutching his stomach, cackling madly with laughter.

***

Elias took his breakfast from the boy serving in the kitchen and scanned the room for a seat. Klaus had placed himself in the corner of the room and was currently alone, not reading or doing anything but eating, so Elias decided to take the opportunity to sit with his brother.

Klaus didn’t look up as he approached, his eyes fixed on his meal. Elias announced his presence as he approached, clearing his throat and saying, ‘good morning, brothe—‘

‘What the hell do you want?’ Klaus snapped, shooting cold twitching eyes up at the younger blond. The look in his stare was enough to kill.

Elias spun on his heel and quickly retreated, wondering what on earth he’d done to infuriate his brother so much. As he scarpered he noticed Randy a few seats away, eyes on the fearful boy, hand covering his mouth and smothering his giggles.

#klaus goldstein #randy march #serge durandal #elias goldstein #wizardess heart #shall we date #shall we date wizardess heart #wizardess heart fanfic

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seladorie · 7 years ago

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Sel’s Highly Subjective FFXV Fic Rec Master List

Hello! I said I’d do this, and it took a while, but I did!

The standards for this list are 1) I personally enjoy them, and 2) I’ve gone back to reread them for whatever reason. (Please note the subjective in the title of this list.)

I’ll be updating this list and reblogging it when I do! I only rec fics that I’ve read and feel good about recommending. I don’t always give warnings in the my summary of the fic in the interest of space, so mind the tags when you check something out. There are links to all of the stories, and I tagged which authors whose blogs I know about.

Happy fic reading!

PROMPTIO:

Incentive by LadyLarkFrand: Cute, domestic, prompt fluff. Good stuff.

Education by Riona: Fluff. Good good fluff of the two of them getting together.

I’m Trying Hard To Take It Back by @someobscurereference: Soulmate/Soulmark AU where your touch is marked onto your soulmate’s skin forever… and for Prompto and Gladio, it happens when Gladio shoves him on the train.

Fantasy Ride by dirtbag: Prompto and Gladio share a sleeping bag for body heat and yup.

Riding High by LadyLarkFrand. “Gladio never skips leg day. It's something that Prompto admires a lot. Gladio knows he does. Prompto's boyfriend has fantastic thighs and he's a cock-tease, the bastard.”

right into the bliss by greyskiesblack. “Prompto doesn't like himself, no matter how much the others try to convince him that he should.” One of my favorite promptio fics, despite its incomplete status.

Lavender’s Blue (Dilly Dilly) by @someobscurereference. Cinderella AU, with Prompto as Cinderella and Gladio as… the handsome not!Prince? This is adorable, go read it.

prepare the preparations by scarebeast. “The boys spend the night in the car after a snowstorm. Prompto and Gladio spend the night in a jacket together.” Fluff, trans!Prompto.

Grab the Gladio By the Biceps: Contentious Countess Edition by ohmyfae. “Gladio introduces Prompto to the magnificent world of trashy 10c romance novels. Neither of them are prepared for this.” The sequel is also hilarious.

white lines by spacs. “The more Gladio kissed him, the more nervous he got.”

Show Me by @someobscurereference. A wrist band is pretty obvious accessory, especially if you keep it on during sex.

PROMNIS:

It Hurts by NoticedKohai: this is trans!Prompto and Ignis, dealing with menstruation. It’s super cute.

Professional Ethics for the Freelance Massage Therapist by edibleflowers: To help him relax, Prompto offers Ignis a massage and… yup. Yup.

Filters by Quail (Salamander): Five times Prompto surprised Ignis with a photo.

a year and a day by @someobscurereference: Merman!Prompto and Iggy.

the years between by greyblackskies: A long recovery fic for both Prompto and Ignis. Explicit and has dark themes and is so, so good. One of my fav ffxv fics.

Quite the Collection by @asidian. Promnis + sex toys.

Watch Your Throat, It Needs To Choke by @socialdegenerate. Won’t make sense without the first one in the series, but I fucking love this story. It’s promnis porn and it’s beautiful. Read the entire series.

Infinity and Beyond by @someobscurereference. “In a hundred different worlds, Prompto and Ignis come together in a hundred different ways.”

Filters by Quail (Salamander). “Five times Prompto took a photo of Ignis when he wasn't expecting it”

Rule of Thirds by marleymars. “Prompto bumbles through life and maybe falls in love.” The fic that sold me on promnis <3

GLADNOCT:

so good for me by rustandstardust: Gentle sex between Gladio and Noctis, and that’s about it.

Not Even a Handful by chocolatetigerfics: “Noctis doesn’t like it when Gladio calls his dick puny. Because it is.”

Go The Noct To Sleep by Mythril (fantacination): Sleeping arrangements and GladNoct.

The Heat of Lestallum by beforethequeen. Alpha!Gladio and Omega!Noctis, Gladio falls into rut and well. You know where this goes.

GLIGGY:

Afternoon Delight by mahbecks. Gliggy, rimming. Yup. NSFW, obviously.

Once Upon a Dream by mahbecks. Gladio and Iggy do not like each other. But, they both meet a charming stranger at the masquerade ball…

creature of habit by shepherd. Mutual masturbation.

PROMPTIS:

Black is the Colour by withoutdrawbacks: Noct realizes he has a thing for Prompto wearing his clothes.

Scattershot by Riona. “The longer Noctis spends travelling with him, the clearer it becomes that Prompto can get a crush on anyone.”

friends with benefits by @brosura. “Prompto has always known that Noctis was the prince, but he’s only ever really cared that Noctis was his friend. And he thought it was pretty clear that he didn’t befriend Noctis for the money and gifts. In hindsight, he probably should have just said that much to Noctis. Or, The Adventures of Reluctant Gold Digger Prompto Argentum and his Rich Best Friend.”

Life Imitates by Riona. “Everyone keeps trying to lecture Prompto on dating Noctis. Which would be fine if he and Noctis were actually dating.”

PROMNYX:

Oh. by TheIskraen “Prompto just wants to know if Nyx is okay.” Takes place when you meet Cor in game. As you might suspect, it’s a bit sad.

i just keep running (into you) by JosephineSilver. Only one chapter, but cute.

NOCTNYX:

brighter than the sun by nickofhearts: “Noctis smokes. So does Nyx. (Noctis accidentally joins the Kingsglaive).”

Imperial!Noct AU by ohmyfae. Ardyn kidnaps Noctis when he’s a kid and “raises” him.

POLYSHIP ROADTRIP:

they say through gritted teeth by mushydesserts: 5 +1 of Gladio carrying someone else, and one time they carried him.

For Duty by Allubttoa: A very interesting premise that explores how the royal family of Lucis gives their warriors their magic. Mostly plot and deals with uncomfortable themes (which I enjoy, personally).

Mind Reader by ohmyfae. Noctis temporarily gets the power to read minds, so he uses it for an orgy. Man after my own heart.

Sincerely, Me by @kwehkwehmotherfucker, @ignis-sassentia. Mostly a story told through texting about Promnis and Gladnoct, though slowly evolving into OT4. Funny, cracky, and I have a good time reading it during my lunch breaks at work.

Know the Rules by @asidian. Fingering, fluff, humor, and Prompto suffering orgasm denial? This fic has it all.

So Close Your Eyes and Believe by @socialdegenerate. “Noctis likes sleep, but he also likes sex. If only he could find a way to combine the two...”

PROMPTO/GLADIO/IGNIS:

Synced by Lalaen: Dom!Iggy and Dom!Gladio take care of Prompto.

On-the-Job Training by Cygna_hima: “As part of his Crownsguard training, Prompto has to learn to resist the effect of alphas; Ignis and Gladio volunteer to help him practice. It gets out of hand.”

ARDYN/PROMPTO:

A Real Charmer by ohmyfae: One of the only Ardyn/Prompto’s i’ll rec because I tend to like happier stories, but this one the story of FFXV changes because Prompto can charm daemons. Including a certain Chancellor. And all of the other bros suffer as a result ;)

RAREPAIRS:

Sagefire by @notthelasttime: Nyx/Ignis, and I know, what?? but it’s a cute twoshot about the two of them getting together through a casual hook up.

all things beautiful by yodelpalma, which is Cor/Dino. Dino helps Cor out on a mission, by pretending to be his boyfriend

Build a Wall Between Us by @socialdegenerate . this one is actually Prompto/Cor! An enduring crush and the end of the world :)

wake a little stronger by grains_of_saturn, also Cor/Prompto, also WoR

Don’t Deny What You Meant by @imperfectkreis it’s Cor/Loqi and gods, I read this so early on when I joined the fandom and it’s still good to go reread it

you keep me from breaking apart by greyblackskies. Prom/Dino. “Prompto has the best boyfriend. Dino doesn't even mind that a stupid spiracorn broke the bracelet he gave Prompto.”

carry your heart by yodelpalma. Prom/Dino. “Prompto has the worst friends.”

A Candidate For My Affections by HigharollaKockamamie. Ardyn/Ignis. “It's been a few hundred years since Ardyn picked up any new dating techniques.”

GEN:

Reprisal of an Old Mistake by pariahpirate: This fic is pretty much how I think of Prompto’s background regarding the laboratories of Niflheim. That said, quite dark.

The Improvisational Method by JosephineSilver: And oldie that came before the game’s actual release I think, but features sly Prompto getting the bros out of trouble by pretending to be a traitor.

Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum: “Out on a mission, Cor Leonis finds a teenager, lost and sick and partway to becoming an MT. Against the advice of all and sundry, he brings him back to Insomnia. There's not a lot of love lost for MTs in the Citadel, but some of its inhabitants may still be young enough to put aside their prejudices.”

Total Contained Time: Sixteen Years by @she5los. Cor asks Prompto to look at some strange MT tech, which has disastrous consequences. Deaged!Prompto. Mostly gen, little bit of gliggy.

Handle With Care by @she5los. “When Prompto gets kidnapped, his friends know they'll need to step up and support him as soon as they get him back.”

Running Behind by @asidian. MT!Prompto escapes from Niflheim and is found by the bros, and we readers experience all the pain.

Worth the Risk by @asidian. Prompto saves Noctis’ life when there’s an attack in Insomnia. Everyone who doubted him is suitably impressed.

Memories of the Past by @asidian. Deaged!Prompto, where he escaped from Niflheim’s labs later in childhood. Hurts so good.

#fic rec #ffxv #final fantasy xv #sel's highly subjective fic rec masterlist #fanfiction #all of the pairings #all of the ships

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up-among-the-stars · 7 years ago

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Cycle 307

The five times Kaizo forgets his birthday, and the one time he doesn’t.

Kaizo is sixteen when he first forgets.

Granted, he forgets a lot of things these days, but none of which he actually means to. He's taking his time with the mask, and while the side-effects aren't disabling, they're not exactly productive, either. It's annoying, how the memories he wants buried stay vividly clear, but Imus forbid he remember his own naming day.

So when his grandfather walks in the training room, a whole shift early and wondering why he hasn't started cleaning up, his first response is a very eloquent, "What?"

The general stares at him. "We're going to the plaza."

"...why?"

"It's your naming day," the man says with a slight frown, watching as Kaizo blinks in realization.

"Oh. Right."

"You forgot." It's not a question.

Kaizo hums, looking back at the sentinel he's pinning on the wall. He releases his hold and ends the simulation with a quick command, idly watching the bot sink back to the floor. He can still feel his grandfather watching him, but he honestly doesn't know what to say.

It was his choice to keep the mask, and the consequences were something he just had to live with.

He settles with a simple, "It's a work in progress."

Kaizo meets his grandfather's eyes, lets the other search his face for a few moments, and waits. His mouth quirks upward when he gets a small nod, knowing that the general has seen his resolve. Out of habit, he does a quick salute, before heading off to his room for a quick shower.

Training can wait; for now, he has a celebration to attend.

ii.

There are... things outside his room.

Kaizo is barely back from his latest mission when he spots the colorful mess in the hallway. He was gone for a couple of lunar cycles to patrol the Latsyrk quadrants, having picked up a couple of frequencies that belonged to powerspheres.

He'd managed to collect five of them before deciding to head home, which is how he finds himself in this current situation.

Frowning at the storage blocks scattered at his doorway, Kaizo wonders if someone dropped them, before pushing the thought away. Everyone in the East Wing knows where his room is, if only to avoid it. He's not the... kindest of people, especially after long-term missions. He blames Bora Ra for that one.

Upon closer inspection, he notices one that looks like Maya's. Bronze has always been the mechanic's color, so he picks that one up, half convinced that it's safe. If anything ever happens to him, he can always drop by her shop for an unannounced visit.

He's turning the cube over when he notices the storage date, then everything clicks.

Oh, Kaizo thinks. It was my naming day.

He hadn't really been paying attention to the date recently, but he supposed those close to him still did. Pressing the release button, Kaizo steps back just in time to catch a metallic blue slab, sleek sides tapered off to a handle.

He shifts to hold it properly and watches as it morphs around his arm to form an ion blaster.

Maya really doesn't hold back, Kaizo thinks, smirking at the possibilities for his next mission. The sword may be his preferred medium, but even he wouldn't refuse something with twice the power. He shuts it down before grabbing the other blocks still at his feet, wondering what the others got him as he finally enters his room.

iii

He's still bleeding.

Kaizo pants as he stares at the wound on his side. With a grunt, he lets his head thunk back on the tree behind him and tries to catch his breath, fairly content with being idle for the first time in two cycles. He knows Lahap enough to assume that the lieutenant has kept the data chip safe, so for now, he has only one problem.

He counts to ten before trying again.

"Xek'trs," Kaizo hisses, voice sharp in his mother tongue as he presses his activated sword against his side. It's one of the messier ways to deal with his injuries, but the wound has been bleeding enough to make him worried. He'll have to clean up better once they get out of the system.

It's after the fourth try that he finally manages to cauterize the cut successfully.

Damn Iaku and their traps, he thinks darkly, remembering how their target had worked with bounty hunters. It's not every day that they went to a mission with half the specs they needed, but this one happened to be more of a surprise than the captain was expecting.

Absentmindedly, he thinks how bad of a surprise it was.

He doesn't exactly remember the day.

iv.

There's a missed call, and from a direct line.

Kaizo narrows his eyes at the yellow triangle blinking on the screen. There are three options: either he's been found out, his planet is under attack, or it's a really important tip that he's been waiting for from the few contacts he has.

Whichever it is, he's going to have to call back.

Pulling up a few lines of code, Kaizo sets a frequency. The holographic display lights up a few moments later, and on it is -

"Aeron?"

From the screen, a guy visibly lights up as he signs a greeting. Kaizo offers a quick smile, before asking, "What's with the call?" He watches as the other signs, brows raising with the speed and every cut-off sentence as the man on the other line turns more sheepish.

"A," Kaizo interrupts after the fifth attempt is waved off, "As funny as this is, can you at least tell me if there's a problem?"

Aeron freezes mid-motion, before slowly signing, 'no.'

"Okay." Kaizo blinks. "Why'd you call, then?"

"He wanted to greet you, idiot."

Kaizo can't help the smirk that makes its way on his face at the reply. "Still ratting people out, greaser?" he asks, waving off Aeron's panic at Maya's sudden comment, "Same as always, I see." There's a snort, and Kaizo can practically hear the eyeroll in her reply.

"So are you. You would've forgotten your naming day if A hadn't called."

"Fair enough."

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Do you... think we could visit home?"

Kaizo looks up to see Fang staring at the ground, hands fiddling with his gloves. It's a little amusing how nervous his brother still gets around him, though it's not surprising, with all that he's done. He's not exactly the best sibling in the world.

Although -

"I don't see why not," he says, tilting his head at how the other seems to perk up at that. "Something important?"

Fang blinks at his question, before looking away and mumbling, "Sort of."

Interesting.

If he's going to be honest, the last thing Kaizo expected Fang to be worried about was his naming day celebration.

Their parents had been surprised, to say at least, but so was he when Fang pressed to have the trip in a cycle. Kaizo watches as his brother talks animatedly with their parents, telling them about adventures he had with his friends.

It's... nice, seeing them again.

Though it's not something I can always afford, Kaizo thinks.

He stares at his soup as he takes another sip.

(+ i.)

So, the kids know when his naming day is.

But did they really have to do this? Kaizo thinks, three parts amused as he stares down at the pile of... presents outside his ship's control room. The other fourth of him is feeling an odd sense of déjà vu, but that's mostly ignored for the shocked look on his lieutenant's face.

"Lahap," he says, startling the other to attention, "You start the ship."

The lieutenant makes a face. "Captain?"

"I'll deal with it," he replies, crouching to pick up the a-little-too-bright bundle. Color-coded, he assumes, eyes automatically finding his brother's gift, as well as Boboiboy's. There are three green packages, though, so he assumes that the twins were in this, too.

Really, what is it with people and naming days.

a bunch of important notes (read: headcanons) for those who are confused:

- i have this headcanon that kaizo’s grandfather is a general??? idk, it sounded pretty cool, and kaizo had to get his military background from someone

- another headcanon: kaizo’s mask is an incomplete weapon, kind of like a prototype, so sometimes it messes with his brain and makes him forget things

- birthdays are called naming days in their planet (as features in another fic of mine).

- edit because i forgot ajjsjahs: Imus is one of their planet’s three major deities

- when he’s not at home, kaizo stays in the garrison. his room is in the east wing.

- Latsyrk quadrants: a bunch of quadrants opposite from the one that has kaizo’s planet.

- Xek'trs: made up curse word because i want kaizo and fang to speak alien languages!!! or something, just let them have a mother language, please.

- Iaku: another made up thing, but now an alien race. they’re known for hunting, hence the traps.

- maya and aeron are my ocs!!! read more about them here.

- ps. i know very little about interstellar communication omg, im sorry sdjfhsdak

- the kids would totally give the captain gifts, if they found out about his birthday. they’d throw him a party, but they’re not close enough, and most of them can see that kaizo isn’t one for huge celebrations.

- gifts the kids probably gave: tea (from boboiboy, and yes, he asked fang to help), a cupcake (from yaya, bUT DON’T WORRY, THE OTHERS HELPED), a pin (from ying, and it definitely says ‘rebel’), a glass figurine (it’s kaizo’s sword, gopal didn’t know what to give but his friends kept bothering him, give him a break), new gloves (from fang, because kaizo actually goes through them pretty quickly), and alien tech (sai gave him the latest comm link in the market, and shielda gave him a holopad, also the latest in the market)

a/n: i feel very conflicted about this because i feel like i haven’t shown my view of kaizo as well as i wished??? but thats because too much of what i have are headcanons and i cant write well enough without making you guys confused??? anyway, this doesnt look like it fits the theme much either, but hear me out: the thing that makes it not-so-happy is that kaizo doesnt really care for his naming day. it - it would’ve made sense had i published my first entry for kaizo week, but then it would need more explaining and its 1 am and i need to sleep. bUT ANYWAY, i hope u guys at least enjoyed the fic skdjfhjksa

#IM LATE AS HECK BUT AT LEAST I FINALLY FINISHED IT ASKDGAKSHGL #((incoming a/n now that ive gotten sleep))#legendary space rebel #fanfics #boboiboy #boboiboy galaxy #kaizoweek2017 #hbdcaptainkaizo #((almost everyone is here tbh but kaizo's the main focus so im only tagging him))

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bughead-fic-request · 7 years ago

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I would like to thank @leaalda for making these amazing banners.

This is an effort to spread the word about all fan fiction writers in our little fandom. If you would like to be featured or nominate a writer, please contact me. Please reblog this post if you can and check out some of @aswellingstorm work!

1. First things first, if someone wanted to read your stories where can they find them.

On my AO3 ☺

2. Tell us a little about yourself.

I’m 20 (going on 21 soon!) and I’m about to be a junior in college, I’m in a sorority at my college and it makes me question my sanity on a daily basis. I’ve transferred colleges about four times now because apparently I’m incredibly indecisive. I’ve been dating my boyfriend nearly two and a half years and I have two dogs who are my entire world, basically.

3. What do you never leave home without?

The correct answer should be my purse, but the reality is I’ve never left without my phone. I’ve driven an hour somewhere before only to realize I left my purse, wallet, ID, money, everything at home.

4. Are you an early bird or a night owl?

During the academic year, I’m an early bird! You can catch me trying to go to bed at 10 pm on a Friday night but during the summer I’m normally awake until at least 2 am.

5. If you could live in any fictional world which one would you choose and why?

I’d have to say Once Upon a Time/ Storybrooke-true love, endless adventure so sign me up!

6. Who is the most famous person you’ve ever met?

Chris Colfer from Glee! Not once but twice my mom loved me enough to stand in the sweltering heat for five hours to meet him.

7. What are some of your favorite movies/TV?

The Office (yes I have watched it about 12 times, and it just keeps getting better), Parks and Rec, Brooklyn 99, Riverdale!, Once Upon a Time, Jane the Virgin, Castle and a bunch more I’m blanking on.

8. What are some of your favorite bands/musicians?

Lately I’ve been really into Khalid, Fun., Bleachers, Lorde, Sleeping at Last, Marina and the Diamonds, Florence + the Machine...also, ashamedly, I’ve been known to listen to Spotify Top 50 on repeat for days on end.

9. Favorite Books?

Academically speaking, In the Defense of Food is a great book! A personal favorite that I was forced to read but actually enjoyed was Beloved by Toni Morrison. The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini are awesome reads.

10. Favorite Food?

I was never forced to eat vegetables as a child so, ironically, I love salads/vegetable heavy foods. Eggplant parm is my fave!

11. Biggest pet peeve?

I absolutely can’t stand it when people make things up for attention. It’s a very pretentious thing to say- I know- but I’ve caught too many people exaggerating or trying to emulate very extreme and dangerous behavior for the sole purpose of extracting attention for a loved one.

12. What did you want to be when you were little? What do you want to be now?

When I was little I wanted to be a *famous* writer! I used to write up stories, print them out, put them in a special binding material from Staples and stick it on the bookshelf in my house. I’d print out another copy and bring it to school so my friends could read it because I was that weird child. Now, I’d just settle for having career that doesn’t drain the very soul from my body and cause me to have a mid life crisis at the ripe age of 40-wondering where it all went wrong.

13. What are your biggest fears? Do you have any strange fears?

Ooooh god. If there was a wrong question to ask, it’d be this one. I can literally go on for hours. All of my fears are just incredibly strange in nature. For starters, I have a very weird fear/interest in urban exploration/abandoned theme parks. Furthering on that, weird/creepy accidents at theme parks freak me out incredibly-especially at places like Disney World. I have read the entire accident list for Disney parks at least eight times over. I’ve had multiple nightmares about the fact that, in May of 1984, the Haunted Castle at Six Flags Great Adventure caught on fire and killed eight teenagers-and the park never apologized.

But, to cut myself off, my biggest fear (aside from failure) is the audio animatronic yeti on Expedition Everest. People think this is a joke, that I’m not serious but that mother fucker looks like a god damn freaky ass tarantula gone wrong and honestly??? What if it fell over one day??? And killed someone?? Yeah imagine dying with that FACE staring at you in an ill-lit cavern. One time my friend sent a picture of it to me to see my reaction and, involuntarily my first reaction was to just chuck my phone, effectively cracking the screen.

14. When you are on your deathbed, what would be the one you’d regret not doing?

Totally corny, but just every chance I didn’t take. Every time I could’ve done something new or spontaneous but was too lazy or afraid.

Okay… lets talk about your writing!

15. Which is your favorite of the fics you've written for the Bughead fandom?

I’m pretty attached to A Thousand Times, but it’s still incomplete.

16. Which was the hardest to write, in terms of plot?

48 Hours, for sure. I’ve had the story mapped out for about two weeks now but I’ve been trying to orchestrate it so it builds up to the ending nicely and in a manner that’s surprising but still believable.

17. How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? Do you people watch? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?

Music is the biggest mode of inspiration for me. Normally ideas hit me when I’m listening to a favorite song while I’m driving.

18. Idea that you always wanted to write but could never make work?

Angel AU with Betty as an Angel sent to help super successful millionaire Jughead straighten out his life. Also reaaaaaally wanted to do a crossover fic with Glee based on the Glee Archie comics, specifically where Dilton comments how Quinn Fabray is Betty Cooper’s evil twin. But those are faaaaar too many lines to cross.

19. Least favorite plot point/chapter/moment you’ve written?

In retrospect, basically everything from my earlier works on AO3. There was some pretty out of character stuff that’s pretty cringey to look back on

20. Favorite character to write?

Betty Cooper, hands down. I relate to her the most so it’s easiest to write from her point of view.

21. Best comment/review you’ve ever received?

All of them are so incredibly nice and thoughtful and I don’t deserve any of them tbh

22. How do you handle bad reviews or comments?

Knock on wood but I haven’t gotten one yet that was bad per se.

23. What is your favorite story you’ve ever written? Any fandom?

A Thousand Times by far is my baby. I remember being nervous when I released the first chapter the night before I had an early flight. The next morning before I boarded I saw all of the positive responses and couldn’t wait to write more.

24. What are you reading right now? Both fan fiction and general fiction?

The syllabi for my classes lol

25. Do you have an advice for writers that want to get into this fandom but might be scared?

If joining this fandom is what will make you happy-please do it. Any ideas you have, whether they’re similar to what’s been done before or you think they’re not good enough- I promise you they are. There are a million reasons not to do something, but if joining this cool little family will make you happy or provide a creative outlet for you than that’s all the reason you need.

#bughead author spotlight #fan fiction #fan fiction writers #ao3 #Bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #jughead x betty #betty x jughead #riverdale #aswellingstorm #a thousand times #48 hours

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everythingblob · 7 years ago

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So Paint Me A Picture

I made it my mission to sort through all my whole computer with the purpose of cleaning it out, and I found a bunch of old fics, this is a Vision x reader. It’s incomplete, but its pretty good..

Word count : 2727

Vision X Reader

Y/N didn't mind repainting her room. It was a task she quite anticipated, actually. The combination of menial labor, free artistic reign, and repetitive technique was an exciting prospect, appealing to all of her admittedly scattered interests. Before she could get to work, however, she needed to disarm the many traps she had set with the intention of discouraging intruders. At first, she thought that would be easy. *'Just set them all off at a distance,'* she thought, and that plan of attack worked. At first, anyway. On the second-to-last trap, she made the mistake of backing into the wall behind her. A sudden, metallic snap ripped a startled squeal from her, and her reflexive leap to the side was thwarted by the snare into which she had inadvertently stumbled. It took a second for her to realize her mistake, blaringly obvious in retrospect. She sighed, a strange, entirely unwelcome combination of annoyance, disbelief, and resignation settling over her as she forced her gaze to her lower left arm, which was locked inside of a metal cast. "Oh, shit!" she groaned loudly. She struggled with the contraption for a moment, but gave up quickly, knowing full well that any attempt to escape this thing without power tools, space-time warping technology, or very heavy firepower was a pointless, futile endeavor. This was her handiwork, and she knew better than anyone else that it wouldn't open without some extreme persuasion. She stood still for a second, mind racing as she tried desperately to come up with a way to free herself without calling for help. The last thing she needed was stories of this incident circulating, or, worse, pictures, videos... Unfortunately, her brainstorming session left her with little more than a headache and a pre-emptive sense of near crippling embarrassment. *Okay,* Y/N thought, forcing herself to keep some semblance of composure. *I'll just call Robert.* Robert Porter, her carpenter buddy, frequently let her use his tools, (and whatever else she wanted to use). All she had to do was ask. More importantly, he would keep her confidence if she requested. No photographic evidence of this blunder, no mortifying footage to haunt her for the next few decades, no stories that could all too easily translate into mediocre urban legend or ludicrous, over exaggerated myth. Thoroughly enamored with her plan, Y/N reached for her pocket, only to be reminded that she was wearing painting clothes. No pockets. Right. Her phone was God only knew where, and with its unfortunate absence, her stroke of brilliance withered to dust before her eyes. She glanced around the room, frustration now bordering on pure distress. It was empty but for the painting, supplies scattered about, furniture having been cleared entirely in preparation for her long-awaited painting project. Nothing remained that could help her get out of the cast. Y/N wasted a good five seconds cursing herself for not making a button that could release the cast, one that could be activated by anyone unfortunate enough to be trapped in the infernal thing. *But then again,* she thought, *What would be the point of that? Kind of renders the whole trap... ineffectual.* Could be a hidden button, though, she mused in a characteristic offshoot thought-train. One that only she could find... perhaps in the wall itself? Disguised as an electrical outlet? Light switch? Perhaps behind a painting. *Brilliant, Y/N,* she thought acidly, furious with her own meandering mind. *Can we get back to useful thoughts now? How to solve our CURRENT dilemma? THEN we can worry about making the traps more idiot-proof LATER!* She managed to work herself up to the point that she was twisting her arm in the trap, grunting with exertion and groaning in pain. The effort yielded no success, but *did*, apparently, make her an attractive target for the fly buzzing around the room. She swatted it away from her face, scowling at it as if it were somehow the source of all her troubles. "Go... get stuck in some paint!" she shouted lamely, it drifted obliviously to the opposite end of the room. With a dramatic sigh, Y/N began to seriously consider the option of utilizing her comm link. Usually, she wouldn't have it in her ear, but she was trying to get into the habit of wearing it all the time, even when she was painting. Wait a second... Painting... Suddenly, she remembered a conversation that she'd had with the Vision earlier that week. "When you decide that you do need my help, paint me a picture," she quoted him aloud, fidgeting at the mere thought of the exchange. She was uncomfortable around Vision, but it had nothing to do with any personality flaws on his part. She wasn't sure what it was, precisely, that made her feel so nervous when he was around. Maybe the fact that he was red. *Hmm, funny thought. Okay,* she determined, *I'll just buzz anyone except Vision. That way, I won't have to... paint him a picture or, whatever.* She used her right hand to activate her comm link. At first, she didn't hear anything. Then, with a sharp whine, voices streamed from the small device, though, she quickly deduced, none of them belonged to anyone on her team. "Shit." Y/N realized within two seconds that she was tuned into a radio frequency. She sighed, and used the edge of her nail to turn a small knob on the device's top outer edge. The noise stopped, and the high electrical whine intensified for a moment, leaving her wincing in pain. "Hello?" she asked once it faded. "Hello?" She waited a minute and was about to try a different frequency when someone finally answered her call. "Okay, Turner, you need to turn down the input on your device before you blow someone's ear's off." Y/N's eyes narrowed. She would recognize that smug, flatly sarcastic voice anywhere. Barton. "Oh, sorry," she said, accommodating in spite of the fact that she would have preferred a reply from anyone else. Maybe even Vision. "One second." Again, she used the tip of her nail to turn a second minuscule knob, just down and counter-clockwise from the first. "How's that?" Barton's sudden cry of pain told her that she'd turned the knob the wrong way. "Oops," she said, hearing the plain insincerity in her own words. *Oh well. He should know all too well how I feel about him by now anyway.* She turned the knob again, this time in the opposite direction. "Okay, Barton, how about now?" "Thank you," Barton replied, the slightest hint of subdued snarkiness sloppily concealed in his tone. "What do you want?" "Jeez, Barton, no need to be rude. I need your help getting out of... " "... Out of what?" Barton asked after waiting a long moment for her to finish. "Out of... a... a... you know... a... a thing," Y/N stammered, frantically struggling to come up with an alternate explanation for her current predicament. "Yeah, a, uh... a thing. I know about things." Oh God. The sarcasm was crippling. She could picture his expression, and cringed a little. "So, uh..." "See, though," Barton went on, "The thing about things, is they're easier to help people get out of when more things are made clear about the thing." "How many more things?" "More things than just the thing that, 'it's a thing'." Y/N whimpered. "It's embarrassing," she whined, unable to think of a solid excuse for this. Even if she could have come up with a cover story, Barton would sniff out the truth the minute he got to her house to help her. This was so unbelievably mortifying. "So, an embarrassing thing. That narrows it down. Is it a kinky thing? One of, uh, one of those?" "No!" "Oh, it's not a kinky thing?" She swore she could hear him laughing between words. This was getting way too awkward. If they kept on like this, he was going to come up with something worse than the actual thing. Granted, that would be nothing short of a miraculous over achievement of a morbid imagination, but if there was anyone on the planet who could manage something like that, it would be Clint Barton. "Oh, Christ. Stop laughing," she sighed, forcing her voice into a flat deadpan. The less emotion she gave this leech the less painful this would be. "I'm... stuck, in... in my... my own trap." "Your own trap?" "Oh, don't. Would you please, yes I said please, come down to my house and help me out?" ****Desperate to the point that I'm begging *Hawkeye* for help. Oh, how the mighty have fallen,**** Y/N lamented silently. Of course, he couldn't be a pal, for once, and cut her a break. "Well, we're all a bit busy right now, say you hang on for another... oh I don't know, hour or so?" Y/N could hear his smug, playfully sadistic smile over the comm, and she grit her teeth to keep from launching into an expletive-laden tirade. "Clint, don't you dare leave me here like this," she said, taking another swipe at the fly that had renewed its mission to demoralize her. She pretended it was Barton, and aimed a mean right hook for it. The blow missed, of course, and her fist smashed into the wall at her side. Her eyes flew open wide in pain, but she bit her lip and hopped in place to keep from crying out. No way she would let Barton hear a fly getting the better of her. "Oh, we're on a first-name basis now? Because last time I checked, we were still butting heads." This was becoming physically painful. Y/N rubbed her forehead in a vain attempt to alleviate the headache building in her frontal lobe. "Barton, where the hell is the rest of the team?" she demanded. "Well, you're repainting your house, and I'm watching for big black and gray robots at twelve-thirty in the afternoon. I'm not watching out for the rest of the team." "Barton, I hate you," Y/N groaned. "There are like what, six other Avengers, why the hell did you have to answer?" "If you didn't want me to answer then why did you tune into MY secure frequency?" "What? Barton, I'm new, Jeez. I didn't even know that was a thing that existed." "And, now you do. Would you like the, uh, other frequencies? I could tune you in to... Cap. Nat, maybe? No, no, no, no... I got it. Stark. He's your man, yeah." Barton was teasing her, mocking her, ridiculing her situation. With a jolt of abject horror, Y/N realized that she was more or less at Hawkeye's mercy. He wasn't offering her help, he was flaunting the fact that it would be all, ALL too easy for the rest of the team to be clued into her predicament, and then... *Ooh. God. Pack me up, label me screwed and ship me off to Abu Dhabi, express mail,* she thought dismally. "Goodbye Barton." He tried to say something, but she turned the first knob again, cutting him off. She waited for the soft buzzing to stop and when it did, she waited another second, a bit () about who might answer. "Hello?" She said at last. "Turner?" A woman's voice replied in a whisper. She sounded surprised. "Romanoff!" She was happy someone picked up that didn't have anything against her. "Go away, I'm busy!" She was still whispering, and Y/N didn't think messing with Romanoff was a good idea, so she didn't speak again. She repeated the process of turning the small knob again. "Hello?" She said again. Silence. "Hello?" She waited for another moment, but when no one answered she turned the knob. Again. She wondered with dull amusement if she would ask everyone on the team except the Vision, and then in the end, have to talk to him anyway. "Hello?" "Oh, one second. Someone on com's" She heard, but the person wasn't talking to her. It was a man's voice. "Hello?" The word was followed by laughter. The man cleared their throat, and then said again "Hello" "Um, who...who is this" "This is." More laughter. Laughing drunk. Stark, Y/N realized. She had gotten Stark, and he was drunk off his ass. "Never mind" It came out more high pitched than she had intended, and as fast as she could she reached for her ear again. This time though, she didn't turn the knob, she took the device out of her ear. She decided that she'd had enough of the team for the rest of the year. She realized that she was mad. Mad at herself for backing into the wall, mad at Hawkeye for not helping her, mad at Romanoff for working on some case, mad at Tony shit face Stark for being drunk, and mad at vision for...Well, she didn't know what she was mad at Vision for, but she knew she was mad, and he was at the center somewhere. She was done. She took a deep breath and considered every way out. Again. She dropped as far down as she could, so she was sitting. She just sat there, not really thinking about anything, but she was aware of everything, every last little feeling that passed through her, the feeling of her arm falling asleep, and the soft tapping. It took a moment, but she realized that the tapping was coming from the window. Someone was trying to get her attention. Slowly she looked up, half expecting it to be Vision, or worse Hawkeye. It was neither. Excitement crept up on Y/N as she saw who was outside. In the window, was the blurry image of her next door neighbor Regina Dallas. She was a nice person, in her early forty's. She liked to make baked goods, but her house didn't have gas, so when Y/N moved into a house near to hers, she took it as a chance to come over and bake. She was a good cook, and she would keep the kitchen really clean, so Y/N didn't mind her. "Hey!" Regina yelled through the closed window. Y/N gave her a weak wave. "You uh, you need a hand in there?" "Yes. Come on in, you have a key right?" Regina nodded and disappeared from the window. About a minute later Regina entered her room. She looked at Y/N and let out a sigh. This wasn't the first time that Regina had walked in on Y/N doing something weird. The most dangerous thing she ever caught her doing though, was setting of mini explosions in her back yard, to get rid of some large spider's that had taken up residence it didn't end up well, it was a failure in fact, like most other things she did. Really, Regina was a witness to most of her failures. Kind of like a secondhand sister "There's some guy outside looking for you." She said when she came into the room. "Really? Do you know who it is? Is it Robert?" "No, I told him to wait outside, I would see if you were home." "Well, I might as well not be." Y/N gestured to her arm, and Regina nodded." "So, I'm guessing there's no easy way out of that thing right?" "Uh, yeah there is, and it's in my left pants pocket" "Where are your pants?" "I think I left them in the guest bedroom" "You think?" Y/N took a second to remember "Yeah," she nodded "they're in the guest bedroom" "Okay, I'll be right back. I would tell you to wait here, but your not going anywhere." "Ha, ha, very funny Regina" Regina walked out, but a second later, poked her head back in and said, "I'm gonna tell the guy that your not in right now, okay?" "Yeah sure." Regina left again, and Y/N called after her "Thank you!" She didn't reply. Y/N wondered who the guy outside was. It might have been one of the Avengers, but Y/N doubted it, because Regina would know and go nuts about meeting a real Avenger. When she first met Regina, Y/N didn't peg her as the fan-girl type, but after the battle last week, it was obvious. Regina was a HUGE fan of the Avengers. She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the front door slam, which made her jump.

#the avengers #avengers #thor #captain america #vision #vision x reader #mcu

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shiarts · 8 years ago

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Untitled Naruto SI Work-in-Progress Scrap/Fic

Notes: I was trying to work on a certain fic for FF, but despite getting a little farther into it, I still haven’t managed to do much. Curse you, writer’s block...

And yet, I managed to do enough of a scrap to consider posting it. Originally, I thought about posting it to scraps on my FF account, but, well. I figured it might be better to post it to tumblr since it’s still just a scrap and not really something I want to post just yet. I do need to prove and remind myself that I’ve been posting something, so... well, here we go. A Naruto AU with a twin!self-insert. It’s not what I was planning to post, to be honest, but, well, yeah. It’s one of two things I managed to work on today.

I wanted to post something, so here we are.

Basically, Naruto is born with a twin that’s an SI, and since I only have one ‘scrap’ for it right now and some ideas, I don’t want to post it to FF yet. But anyway, here you go.

Untitled

Fandom: Naruto

Summary: Mito hadn’t always been Mito. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s (Namikaze-) Uzumaki Mito now. Armed with incomplete knowledge from another world, and a connection that keeps her from falling too deep into despair, she learns to truly live her life in a way that her other self never got to.

Characters: Sarutobi Hiruzen, Uzumaki Naruto, OC (Uzumaki Mito)

Rated: T (For Later Language if Continued)

Word Count: 3,322

Warnings: SI/OC-insert, Naruto has a twin, slow-going, some time-skipping and P.O.V. changes.

Prologue

Two children squalled, blonde infants with three, whisker-like marks on each cheek (the result of being born to a Jinchuuriki, as those who knew the truth might tell you). These two were all that stood between Konoha and the two halves of the Nine Tailed Fox that had caused so much death, destruction, and terror to its citizens. And they were the only remnants of the legacy that were Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina.

Sighing as he turned away from the window, Sarutobi Hiruzen felt his expression pinch as he tried to come to a decision. What would be the right thing to do here? It wasn’t as if he’d expected to ever have to step back into this office in official capacity, but… but, seeing as his successor was now dead, what else could he do but to take the mantle once more? Laying weary eyes upon the two infants that had been brought to him after Minato had finally managed to seal the Kyuubi away (and into his own children no less, it was unfortunate that calling upon the Shinigami meant that he’d only been able to take on enough of the Bijuu’s chakra to seal the half of what remained into his newborn son and daughter respectively), Hiruzen rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

“Just what am I going to do with you, Naruto, Mito…?” He whispered, voice heavy with weary resignation. He knew what he was supposed to do, what he wanted to do, and they were both so, so different from what he had to do. Or rather, would have to do.

He could only hope his trust in the people weren’t misplaced. Something that would be proven incorrect not too long after, when things took a different turn. Something he probably should have expected, But Hiruzen was getting old, and had originally retired for that very reason, having done so as soon as a suitable successor could be chosen. But for this to happen, for the Kyuubi to somehow be released; for Minato and Kushina to both die…

Well, at least the twins wouldn’t have to worry so much about being lonely since they’d have each other, at least…

Two blonde children half-skipped and half-walked, hands swinging like a pendulum between the them as they distracted themselves from the dark and mistrustful stares aimed their way. Neither was truly immune to the looks and whispers, but that didn’t mean that, together, they couldn’t pretend to be so, smiling and creating a facsimile of joy (that would one day, perhaps, become real) as the two laughed and sang.

Of the two, the loudest was the shorter haired child, hair a vivid yellow and styled into short, uneven spikes as if either he, himself, or another child had taken a pair of scissors to his head. Bright blue eyes crinkled as he and his partner sang a little ditty that they had come up with so long ago. It was childish and simple, but it was still something that they liked to use to pretend that everything was fine, better than fine, even.

Catching sight of the equally cheerful and nearly identical, effeminate version of himself, Naruto couldn’t help the bubble of joy that welled up inside as he thought about the few precious people he had. A short and measly list that might have saddened any sane and logical person, but for the four -almost five- year old, it was still quite a list to behold. Something that brought awe to him whenever he thought about it. And to think, only a few months ago he’d only had one -maybe two- people on his ‘Precious People’ list. His sister and the old man Hokage that sometimes visited them. Of course, he could maybe count some of the masked people that would mysteriously appear and disappear, but they never stayed long. Nor did they really interact with the twins unless absolutely necessary. Besides, they were apparently the old man’s way of keeping them safe. Said masked people had saved them a couple of times when things got particularly...rowdy.

In fact, said person was who they were off to visit now! Aside from his twin, the Hokage was the most important and precious person in his life, in fact, the man had been the one to introduce him to the amazingness that was Ramen! Just thinking about ramen made the blonde cheer up (when he wasn’t sulking or pouting because he’d been denied said treat), and he was sure that Hokage-jiji wouldn’t be against having Ramen for lunch, considering how busy he always was. Or, well, Mito had said so. But Mito was smart. And while Naruto knew he wasn’t the sharpest Kunai in the pouch, Mito was always so calm and patient for the most part even when Naruto knew he was being completely clueless.

She was kinda weird sometimes, but then, maybe that was part of being really smart? He knew the old man Hokage was super smart and he sometimes made weird faces and giggled over some weird orange book. He’d asked about it once, but the the old man had been quite evasive about it. It was too bad, though. Naruto thought it must have been an awesome book if it was orange! Because Orange was super awesome! He didn’t know why so many people wouldn’t believe him. I mean, surely they could understand the power of orange? And Ramen! Couldn’t forget the holy goodness that was Ramen, of course!!

Clasping hands with the only living remnant of her family in this world (as far as she was aware, in any case), Uzumaki Mito kept pace with twin. Her arms swinging in just as wide an arc as her brother’s as she tried to keep up the facade that she was entirely unaware of the mutters and whispers that followed them wherever they went. She did her best not to flinch or shrink, if only for the sake of her brother, but even with years of extra memories in her head, there wasn’t much she could do about the fact that it still hurt.

Still, even if it wasn’t exactly a good thing, at least she had practice in the few years she’d been ‘aware’ in this world. As far as she could tell, it was simply the way things worked in this world, though. Physics and Biology were apparently different from what she remembered, especially in that children seemed to develop much more quickly than their counterparts in her world. Then again, such things as ‘Chakra’ and ‘Bijuu’ existed, so that wasn’t surprising.

Or, well, so she’d assumed at any rate. Either way, once she’d come to the conclusion that there was really nothing she could do about any of this, and after panicking enough to nearly have a panic attack, as well as realizing that keeping herself from ‘reacting’ in this world was much more difficult than it had been when she’d been an adult (not too surprising once she thought about it later on, after calming of course. Children weren’t quite so able to repress their emotions, after all), she’d finally accepted that she was stuck with her situation.

Even if it were just a dream, what could she do about it? Even if it were, she wasn’t exactly suicidal or masochistic enough to try to ‘commit suicide’. Rationalizing might have worked, if not for the fact that things clearly worked differently in this world. It was difficult, and to be honest, if not for the ever optimistic ray of sunshine that was practically stuck to her like glue, the girl now called Mito would likely have succumbed far sooner to her more negative emotions.

It might have seemed to others that she was far calmer than her brother (something she’d had to cultivate, to avoid saying or reacting too strangely), and perhaps more responsible and reliable than the other child, but that was only thanks to the memories she’d retained of another world full of other memories. (Even in the future she still couldn’t be sure if she’d simply been given another’s memories, or if she had been that person that had somehow ended up in this world. And if so, how she had managed to keep her memories through whatever reincarnation process her soul had gone through was a question that she would probably never find the answer to.)

Still, the truth of the matter was that she was the one who needed Naruto. The small ray of sunshine that was her twin, that refused to let himself think too negatively, and by extension, herself, had been what had kept her afloat in even the darkest of days. It probably didn’t (or perhaps did) help that she had been an older sibling once too, even if she’d never been the best one. (She’d resented her family, once upon a time, even if she’d loved them just as much as well. But then, they’d always said there was a fine line between love and hate…)

Even if they never knew who the actual elder sibling was, that didn’t change the fact that they were siblings now. And even if the murmurs of disgust and hatred still managed to filter through no matter how much she tried to ignore them, that didn’t mean she couldn’t still push them aside. (They still hurt, though. What had they even done to deserve such hate? As much as she could understand the reason why, she also couldn’t. Because what could possibly justify the people of an entire, large village turning their hatred to two, young orphans? Orphans who knew absolutely nothing -or were supposed to know nothing- of their circumstances?)

And so she allowed herself to be distracted. She let herself fall into her brother’s pace while simultaneously doing her best to take care of him. Because even if she was still a child in this world, she also had the memories of another that, if counted, would put her at an adult’s level, even if only in the recesses of her own mind.

(She might have been taking advantage of being allowed to a child, even while simultaneously being frustrated by it. Whether this new life was supposed to be a punishment or a purgatory, well, what else could she do but to use what she had to do what she could…?)

Sarutobi Hiruzen was old. Much older than he’d been when he’d retaken the hat, and even older than when he’d retired. The stress of taking back the hat and having to run a country when he should’ve been able to retire and live alongside his grandchildren had very much taken a toll on the man that could be considered a fossil even by civilian standards.

Still, even with all the darkness in his life, there were a few bright spots. His grandson, for one. And while he and his remaining son were somewhat estranged, he still cared about those members of his family. Aside from that, however, well, it was mostly the little things that gave him joy nowadays.

No doubt Konohagakure would have flourished even more under the hand of his chosen successor. But as much as he regretted the events of that night, there wasn’t much he could do aside from to move on and to try honoring the lives that had been lost that night.

Of which included the new jinchuuriki of the nine tailed fox. A demon of chakra that had had been sealed into the very children of the one who’d defeated it. Two children that would be visiting him soon enough. Honestly, he still wasn’t quite sure what Minato had been thinking, to seal the Kyuubi into his two children, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now, of course. Still, he wondered how they were doing…

No doubt Naruto would want to have ramen for lunch again, the old man mused, chuckling to himself as he took a moment to take a break, pipe already in hand as he lit its contents with a small flicker of elemental chakra. The boy was rambunctious, much like his mother, though he definitely took more after Minato in coloring, he mused. Bright, blue eyes and a shock of vivid yellow hair the exact shade as Minato’s. If not for the whisker-like marks that were proof of being the child of a Jinchuuriki, it likely would have been far more clear that he took more to his mother in body. Of course, he wasn’t unique in the markings, it was something he shared with his sibling, after all. And what a surprise, that Kushina had been pregnant with not one, but two children! And a girl, at that. Rare enough that she’d been carrying twins, but for them to be of different genders, well. That they...would have survived… was already a miracle as it was.

Mito, who’d been named after the woman who’d taken Kushina in. Mito who seemed to take more after her mother in appearance than her father, color and eye shape aside. While Naruto had his mother’s eyes with his father’s coloring, Mito’s were more like her father’s, colored similarly to Kushina’s, though they were slightly bluer in hue than the emerald grey that the vivacious red-head had sported. Blonde hair that was already beginning to turn more a golden-red or amber color in the sun, and a somewhat shy personality much like Minato in his earlier years. No doubt their parents would have been full of joy at the seemingly perfect mixing of their traits.

As a seal flashed in code by his door, thanks to the AnBu who pretended to be his secretary, Hiruzen was taken out of his musings, as he was alerted to the arrival of the twins. No doubt Naruto would have charged straight in, if not for the more conscientious Mito at his side. Chuckling to himself, he called out, pressing a finger with some chakra to the seal under his desk so that his voice could be heard from outside.

“Come on in, Mito, Naruto,” standing as he spoke, Hiruzen straightened his back, wincing a bit at the cracking sound that echoed in the otherwise silent room, as he stepped around the paperwork piled desk to greet the two young jinchuuriki before something got knocked off his desk.

“Gramps, Gramps!” Came the excited chatter of the male of the two siblings as he zoomed in to a stop before the man, his sibling taking a more casual approach as she sighed, a small smile on her face. “Can we get ramen for lunch this time, please, please? I’ll eat all my vegetables, so can we go? Pretty please?” He pleaded in lieu of a more polite greeting that his sibling gave.

“Good Afternoon, Hokage-jii-san,” she greeted somewhat more shyly, stopping closer to the doorway then into the room as her sibling had. Though her addressing of the man was likely a bit strange (since it probably translated more to something like ‘Grandpa Hokage’ than anything), it didn’t seem to bother the man. Rather, it seemed to amuse him as he smiled genially at the two.

“Just Jii-san is fine, Mito-chan. Or better yet, you can call me Jii-chan, instead,” he mused, knowing that Mito would likely never be as casual (or to some people, as ‘rude’) as Naruto had a tendency to be.

Clearly hesitant, Mito nodded, re-greeting the man in a soft voice, “Th-then, good afternoon, o-jii-san,” she said at last. It probably wouldn’t last, but for this visit, at least, she wouldn’t be calling him ‘Hokage-jii-san’. Because while he was the Hokage, he wanted the two to think of him more as family than someone to be exalted as many of the citizens seemed to.

Smiling warmly at the two, he chuckled, seeing that Naruto was getting antsy even as he waited for them to be done so he could get his answer. “As for you, Naruto-kun. I’m sure that it was supposed to be Mito-chan’s turn to decide?” he half-chided, knowing that ramen all the time wasn’t very good for the boy, even if it was more balanced than other options. (Not to mention cheap.)

Shoulders sagging, Naruto’s entire countenance dropped, “O-Oh… Right,” he frowned, “Sorry, Mito,” he’d clearly forgotten who’s turn it was, before he turned back to a smile so that Mito could pick. “So what does Mito want for lunch then?” he asked. There was a chance that she would choose ramen, and he had been ‘good’ after all… Or, well, as ‘good’ a kid as he could be. Even when Mito did boring things like sitting around or trying to practice to write or do maths.

Eyes wide at being put on the spot, Mito hesitated, looking between Naruto’s attempt to hide his kicked puppy look, and the amused looking Hokage, she bit her lip, thinking about it. “W-well… Naruto did say he’d eat his vegetables…” She said, clearly thinking about it, though looking at Hiruzen for what seemed to be permission.

Honestly, that girl could be a little too nice, sometimes, the old man mused, blowing a puff of smoke in a ring shape as he looked at her. “And, is that what Mito-chan wants for lunch, then?” he asked, knowing that the girl would more often than not end up spoiling her brother if not for the fact that it was more difficult to when so many people seemed to hate them simply for being them.

Clearly torn, Mito frowned to herself, even as Naruto perked up, clearly doing his best not to wiggle too much since the boy definitely had a more difficult time trying to stay still or in one place for very long. Finally, the slightly red-tinted blonde seemed to come to a decision, “I...don’t know what I want to eat so… instead, Naruto could choose this time and I...could choose next time, instead?” She decided, apparently having no preference, but knowing better to simply just let her brother get what he wanted every time.

Though he hadn’t scolded her for it, he had gently chided her for not choosing for herself at times, making sure that Naruto could hear and thus understand that ‘it wasn’t fair’ to Mito if she simply let Naruto choose every time.

It seemed to be working, though, since Naruto perked up and nodded vigorously, eyes bright as he turned to Hiruzen. “Can we do that then? Uhm, please?” he asked, eyes wide and bright as he tried not to jump in place, the two clearly looking to him for acceptance of the ideas.

Taking a moment to hum, as he pretended to think about it, Hiruzen nodded. “Very well. Then, in exchange for letting Naruto choose this time, Mito gets to choose next time,” he concluded, pretending not to notice as Naruto cheered and Mito let out a small, relieved exhale. A tiny smile appeared on the girl’s face as she nodded in acceptance of the fact.

“Ichiraku’s, Ichiraku’s~~!” Naruto exclaimed, jumping and cheering as he hugged his sister and then the Hokage, just managing to remember to say his thanks, as he tried to calm down so they could get going, though it was clearly taking some effort. Taking his sister’s hand, the two started walking, knowing that the old Hokage would follow behind them at a more leisurely pace.

Hiruzen chuckled, patting the boy and smiling indulgently at the little show, as he did exactly that, watching the two as he walked, as Mito did her best to keep up with her excited twin, while asking that he slow down, and Naruto tried to walk (or rather, power-walked) as fast as he could to get to the ramen stand that much sooner.

Ah, yes. It was good to see that their children were still doing well enough despite the hate of certain village members for the two innocents.

Ending Notes: Starting and Ending with Hiruzen’s Perspective, with a look into Naruto and Mito’s along the way. Probably a bit confusing since it’s only the prologue/very beginning, but if I manage to continue it, well... Hopefully I do, anyway. I have a few ideas, but this is more of a...er, well, slightly stress relief and self-indulgent fic to be honest. So, yeah, I’ll leave it at that for now.

If anyone’s interested in it, please do let me know <3 Reviews/Notes/Likes are always appreciated. Thanks! And Happy New Year, guys!

#shi writes #fanfiction #naruto au #naruto fic #scraps #untitled #twins #uzumaki naruto #uzumaki mito #mito's named after the mito that married hashirama and later took kushina in by the way #we'll see if I continue with this later #naruto #fanfic writing practice #currently posted to tumblr only #tumblr only #scrap #Happy New Years

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