#Idk how to write lol

[wallet6464]

Erm I made a spinkicks fic there was no actual ones so I really wanted to make one.

It’s probably not the best bc it’s my first fic but I hope the spin kicks nation enjoys it!

If you read it thank you so much!

[hislaevv]

Epiphany; the way you make me feel - Neteyam

note: Warrior!Neteyam Sully x gn!reader , Neteyam Sully x omatikaya!reader, Neteyam Sully x y/n, Neteyam Sully x na’vi!reader, maybe (??) slight angst , mentions of war , Neteyam in denial.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

All he’s ever known was family, war, and training to become the next Olo’eyktan.

It hits him like a bus, he doesn’t know how to cope with this new found observation.

He has feelings for you. Now what?

He hadn’t even considered love. How could a man like him afford to be in love? Especially now, when his home is at the height of war against the sky people.

While Neteyam struggles at battle, he must battle his own conscience. You? Or the war. He cannot prioritize both, except that is exactly what he wants. Both.

“mighty warrior my ass” he thinks to himself as he sinks further into your arms. It didn’t take long for him to fold.

May he forget the ruination that the war has bestowed upon Pandora. He loves you, despite all else that tries to convince him he shouldn’t.

[undressrehearsal]

dare to be stupid

summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)

a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk

part 2

“Truth or dare?” 

It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.

And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 

She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 

You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 

Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 

Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 

You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 

“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 

Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 

Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 

“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 

Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 

Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 

Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 

There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 

In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 

When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 

You grinned. “$200.” 

Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 

“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”

Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 

You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 

“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 

“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 

You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”

Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 

Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 

Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”

Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 

You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 

Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 

You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 

“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 

“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”

Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 

“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 

You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 

This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 

“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 

She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.

“Don’t-” 

“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 

“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 

“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 

“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 

Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 

Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 

“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.

And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 

“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 

You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 

“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 

You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”

You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 

“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 

It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 

So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 

She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 

“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 

And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 

You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 

You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 

You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.”

“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 

For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.

“How would you rate your last kiss?” 

You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 

Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 

“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 

Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 

Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 

Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 

Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 

You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 

“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 

Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 

And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 

You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 

And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 

Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 

Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 

That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 

“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 

And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 

Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 

And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 

Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 

“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 

She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 

The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 

Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 

“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 

“What?” 

“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 

“Truth,” you sighed. 

One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 

You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 

It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 

Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 

This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 

And you decided to play her game. 

“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 

Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 

You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 

She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 

But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 

“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 

You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 

The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.

“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 

Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 

“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 

You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 

She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 

Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 

Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 

You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 

You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 

Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 

“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 

And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 

Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 

Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 

You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 

You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 

And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 

And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 

And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 

Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 

It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 

Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-

A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 

Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 

When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 

The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 

Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 

You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 

Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 

You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”

The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 

Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 

You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 

When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 

Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 

You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 

Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 

“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 

She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.

You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 

You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.

Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 

[tubbytarchia]

Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

[honnelander]

go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 

Sanji. Ugh.  

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 

You were hopeless. 

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 

“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 

Did Sanji just say he loved you? 

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 

You sighed.  

Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 

[tsuutarr]

Pairing: Tokyo Debunker Ghouls x Reader

Word count: 12K

Content: angst, pining, loss

Summary:

Your potential death due to your curse was no secret, yet there was still a promise of time – time for you (and those who’re willing to help you) to find a cure, a solution to your plight. 

No one expected your death to come so suddenly.

(Or, a look into how the Darkwick Academy ghouls may react to your passing)

You’re no stranger to tragedy, but your death still comes as a surprise to you. Perhaps you should’ve expected it, what with your luck continuing its downward spiral to misfortune. Maybe you should’ve expected someone who despised you to take matters into their own hands, deciding to rid this world of your existence before you became a disastrous anomaly – before you even had a chance to fight your fate.

Regret upon regret builds a castle inside your bleeding body. Apologies, confessions – all of them slowly die in your throat.

You should’ve expected it all.

But you didn’t.

So now you lay, your blood a perfect canvas to frame your loss of life.

Your sage’s ring glows dimly on your finger.

.

.

.

“The Honor Student has passed away,” the Masterpiece Newscasters proclaim, their monotone voice ringing clearly throughout Darkwick Academy. “The culprit is yet to be found. All residents are forbidden to leave the premises until the criminal is found.”

As the Masterpiece Newscasters continue to prattle on about the false information of the Honor Student’s – your – passing, Yuri can feel a headache erupt from behind his eyelids. He’s already slept less than the recommended amount today, he doesn’t need this added stress! There’s no way you’re gone, it’s just not possible. You so bravely faced that immortal anomaly after all, so how could you be dead?

Yuri Isami is only heading to your place of residence to put these bizarre rumors to a rest.

Even when he sees your crumpled body on the floor, Yuri doesn’t believe it – you must have chosen to sleep oddly!

Even when he feels the coldness of your skin, he doesn’t believe it – you just need a blanket!

Even when he doesn’t hear your heartbeat, he doesn’t believe it – you must be acting!

No, no, he has to be realistic. You’re definitely sick. He has to help you. He has to save you! He can save you! He’s the greatest doctor, after all! He can think of so many ways to save you. He can, if you just enhance his stigma, so why don’t you do it? Yuri clutches your hand in his, hands trembling.

“Why won’t you enhance my stigma, worm?” he mumbles. “You can do at least this much, can’t you? You have the opportunity to help the great Yuri Isami! It’s an honor!”

“Yes, it’s an honor to help you,” you had said, laughing. Yuri could be quite particular about laughs, but he didn’t mind yours because there wasn’t anything patronizing about it. “You’re amazing, Yuri.”

“Hmph, well, it’s good that you know your place,” he had responded haughtily. He wishes he could’ve told you how grateful he was that you believed in him. That you were interested in him and his research. That you cared for him.

Yuri’s grip on your hand gets firmer, the coldness of your skin seeping into his. He looks at your eyes, thinking of the way your eyes would light up when he would showcase his scientific discoveries.

He looks at your lips, remembering how you’d smile so grandly at him whenever you two would talk. He remembers how you’d learn what song he was humming just to hum with him.

He looks at your hand, recalling the warmth and strength he felt when he first held it. The way your hand shook due to your own fear remains engraved in his brain – the way that you supported him despite looking like you’d fall. You’ve been able to stand so long, haven’t you? You can’t be gone now.

“Jiro!” he calls, voice cracking. This surgery needs to be a success. He can’t – he won’t – hand you over to another researcher. “Bring the Honor Student to Mortkranken! They need treatment immediately!”

At Yuri’s call, Jiro immediately reaches for you, cradling you in his arms as he lifts you up. He’s never really been one to be gentle, especially in regards to corpses. As long as the corpse is intact, is there any reason to be “gentle”? Jiro doesn’t really think so. But, even so, Jiro can’t bring himself to manhandle you, tossing you around like he would anyone else.

As soon as he saw you on the floor, he wanted to gather you in his arms and carry you back to bed. He wanted to open up his suitcase and conduct your weekly health checkup. He wanted to ensure that you weren’t dead.

Unfortunately, Jiro is cursed with objectivity and he knows – knows – that there’s no way you’re still alive. He also knows that there’s no way to bring you back. Maybe if they had found you faster. Maybe if you were a ghoul. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

He thinks about how you reacted whenever you saw blood and gore. He thinks about how much you fret over him and his injuries, even though he reassures you constantly. He thinks about the warmth of your palms.

He thinks about the ridiculous care you put into everyone.

“What’s this packet? I can’t eat solids,” Jiro had stated bluntly when you passed him a box. It was pink and cutesy, decorated with ribbons.

“It’s not a solid,” you said, grinning cheekily. “Look inside!”

Jiro looked at you blankly, but still did as you instructed. Yuri was strange, but you could be quite strange, too. “...Oh.”

“It’s chocolate milk! It should hopefully be easier to eat,” you beam at him. “Happy Valentine's Day, Jiro!”

Jiro cradles you closer to his chest, like you’re made of glass. You’re so cold, your skin feeling like his. He never thought that someone who was as warm-hearted as you could ever feel so desolate. “...I told you it’d be a problem for me if you died,” he murmured, softly, as he quietly trailed behind Yuri to head to Mortkraken.

When Rui hears the news of your passing, he’s pretty sure the world just stopped moving around him. He has to hear the news several more times to really come to terms with it. It’s unfair, he thinks, it’s so unfair.

You were fighting so hard. You were working so hard.

How could that come crashing down so suddenly?

It’s not fair. You of all people should’ve been able to live a long life. You of all people should’ve been able to be happy. 

He tried so hard to stay away from you, to prevent him from accidentally killing you with his curse. You tried so hard to bring him comfort, despite the looming danger of his power. He’s flirted with plenty of people, but you’re the only person he’s ever thought he’d actually love to spend forever with. He cursed himself for those thoughts, knowing that longing for something that can’t be will only hurt him more. But there isn’t an easy end to longing.

“Sometimes, I wish I could’ve met you as a regular guy,” Rui had confided in you, one day, as the two of you sat in his bar. He swirled his wine, his cheeks slightly ruddy from the alcohol. “I guess you wouldn’t have given me the time of day if we had, though.” His laugh left his lips, hollowly bouncing around his glass as he took another sip.

“You’re drunk, Rui,” you had said, though your tone didn’t hold any malice. “...But sometimes, I wish I could’ve met you before our curses, too.”

This is why he couldn’t get over you, no matter how much he tried. This is why he couldn’t distance himself from you, no matter how much he tried. You drew him in closer and closer like a trap, and he was more than okay with being ensnared, even if he was scared of being hurt.

“Chuu!”

Rui blinked, surprised, as a cute teddy bear smooches him on the cheek.

“Sorry, you seemed distracted,” you hummed, making Rui laugh.

“Ah, yeah– yeah! Sorry about that,” he responded, “I def wasn’t trying to be.”

“I know,” you replied. “But you got to pay attention now, okay? I want you to meet someone!” You waved the teddy bear’s paw. “This is Honor Student Teddy!” Through your puppeteering, Honor Student Teddy offered Rui a hand, which Rui took with an amused look.

“You’re so cute.”

“Beep! Incorrect! The one that’s cute is Honor Student Teddy!” you said, looking away bashfully. Cute. “...So, I was thinking. Since we can’t touch, maybe we could use Honor Student Teddy as my replacement?” You grabbed Honor Student Teddy’s other hand, the one not in Rui’s grasp. “See? Doesn’t it kind of seem like we’re holding hands?”

Honor Student Teddy remains in Rui’s room, pampered and loved as it should be. As you should’ve been. A dry laugh escapes Rui. 

“...Maybe this time, we can really hold hands.”

Blearily, Lyca opens his eyes, the sound of his phone buzzing waking him up. He sees that the message is from the blonde gigolo, which initially makes him annoyed. But Lyca has good instincts – his gut feeling is telling him to pay attention. So, instead of ignoring Rui, Lyca sleepily reads Rui’s texts.

His sleep soon evaporates from his being.

“It’s a lie!” he yells, jumping out of his bed and running to his bedroom’s door. There’s no way you’re gone. There’s no way he’ll never be able to smell your sweet scent ever again. There’s no way you won’t lay down with him and gently thread your fingers through his hair. There’s no way you won’t be able to draw together again. There’s just no way. There’s no way!

But even if Lyca wants to burst out of his bedroom, following your scent to find you, he can’t open the door. He can’t open the door to confirm if you’re really gone. He doesn’t want to go downstairs to see that you’re not waiting for him. He doesn’t want to go to the balcony where you’ll no longer be able to eat with him.

Lyca doesn’t want to lose you. Opening the door to the bedroom feels like he’ll lose you. Carefully, he goes back to his bed, where the blanket from Neros and the blanket from you lay side by side.

“Lyca!” you beammed, making Lyca tilt his head. You had a sweeter scent than usual today. Something that indicated that you were quite happy.

“What’re you so egg-cited about?”

“Heh.” You gave him a big grin. It was something he’d come to like seeing, especially since so many on campus gave him a grimace. “Ta-dah!” With a flourish, you presented Lyca with a soft blanket. “I got you a gift!”

Lyca frowned, looking at the blanket in confusion. “I already got one.”

“Yeah, I know,” you responded, not at all discouraged by the bite in Lyca’s tone. “It’s an extra one! I thought it’d be nice if you could have some more blankets. You can be twice as warm and cozy now!” There was a hint of hesitation as you say your next words, “I can take it back, though. Sorry, I guess I got ahead of myself.”

“...S’okay.” Lyca took the blanket from you, feeling cozier as soon as he touched the soft fabric. It smelt like you. He liked how you smelled – in some ways, it reminded him of home.

Lyca looks at the blanket on his bed, the one that you got him. He grabs it, softly, in his palms. He remembers your encouragement when he had told you that he’d work hard so that he could live with humans. You said he could do it and when you said it, he really did feel like he could. So, you can’t be gone yet. He needs you.

With a deep inhale, Lyca snuggles the blanket that smells like you because maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to chase you and tell you not to leave him if he memorizes your scent.

Rui’s message about your death comes as a surprise to Ed even though he knows that human lives are fleeting – they’re fragile and easily broken. In some ways, that is why Ed has always thought that human life is so beautiful. 

Still, he thinks your life would’ve been so much more beautiful if you had lived it to its full extent. If you could’ve continued to laugh like you had, if you could’ve continued to shine bright like you had – he thinks you’d have made the world a better place. 

He’s lived for many years, yet the loss of someone he considers dear somehow still stings. He thought he managed to rid himself of such stinging emotions, yet it appears that even age does not make you immune to loss. 

Or perhaps you're just one of those humans – one of those humans that make a lasting impact on those around them. But how could you not make an impact? After all, you were so hardworking, both for your sake and for others. 

Who wouldn’t find you precious?

“Okay, Ed! Let’s watch some sad movies!”

Ed had texted you a few minutes ago, bemoaning his exhaustion. He hadn’t expected you to barrel into his room, a bag of snacks in your hand.

“My, my. What brought this on? Not that I am opposed, of course.”

“Well, you said you were tired, right? And you also said you drink tears, right? Well, I brought over some movies I’ll definitely cry to!” you gave him a confident grin. “Don’t worry, Ed. You’ll feel better really soon!”

“How reassuring,” he mused, welcoming you into his messy room. Rui had cleaned it up a few days ago, but Ed found it quite difficult to maintain cleanliness. You didn’t comment on it as you made your way over to him, settling yourself by his side. It was quite cozy.

Laying in his bed isn’t quite as cozy if you’re not there, he realizes. He scrolls through the videos you’ve sent him, imagining how you reacted to these videos. It is reassuring in some ways to have remnants of you left behind, but the pain that he can now only reach you through the remnants of your memory leaves him feeling vacant.

“Being with you really does bring up old, old memories,” he muses. “Perhaps it’s because you remind me a little of her.”

He wonders if there’ll be anyone who reminds him of you.

Not everyone who dies becomes a ghost. Yet, deep inside, Zenji had hoped that you’d have turned into one like him. He had hoped that you’d be able to spend time together, finally being able to hold your hand in his. However, he knows that it’s a selfish desire, one that cannot come true. He scoured the entire campus for any sign of your soul, after all, and came up empty handed.

He wishes that you could’ve been alive instead, then.

He’d rather live by your side, unable to touch you, than not be able to see you at all.

He’d rather you live your life like you want to, happily.

He wishes he could’ve done something more for you – after all, you’ve done so much for him. He’s a ghost, someone that most don’t know the existence of. Yet you made sure to greet him and spend time with him whenever you had time. You’ve been a source of his inspiration, his muse, because of how much you make his heart swell with joy.

He is an artist, so creating is in his blood. However, how do you create when you lose a piece of your hope? How do you create when you lose your source of inspiration?

“My dear, what do you think about this piece?” Zenji had asked, flourishing his biwa with grandeur. 

“It’s great!” you said, earnestly. “I especially like how it felt like a full narrative – I got so tense when the biwa’s sound got deeper in the middle, just like the climax of a story!”

“Astute observation, my dear! That is indeed what I was aiming for.” Zenji couldn’t express the unexplainable joy that blossomed inside his heart when he heard your praise. You were a beacon of light that shined in the desolate lands. You were the purple wisteria that danced from the tree branches over the Hotarubi lake. Your beauty, your kindness – it was all so beautiful to him. He felt like the moon to your sun. “I really am the luckiest fella around.”

And now, he’s the unluckiest fella around, Zenji thinks. You’re no longer by his side. You’ll never be by his side, at least, not in this lifetime. The thought makes Zenji’s heart throb painfully. “Maybe we really did meet too late,” Zenji murmurs, watching wisteria petals float around the lake. “But it’s all right. I promise I’ll find you in the next life.”

 Haku can’t say he’s ever been too happy to be able to see ghosts. Sure, Zenji’s fun to be around and it’s not like his ability really harmed him in any way, but he can’t really think of many times he’s been glad to have his ability. When he hears of your death, denial is the first thing that settles in his brain. Then, the grief follows. But hope blossoms in a corner of his mind. He can see ghosts – maybe he’ll be able to see you? Hope glimmers in the corner of Haku’s heart as he tries to find you.

The glimmer soon dies out, however, because it’s all for naught. Not everyone becomes a ghost. It was foolish of him to think that you’d have become one.

But then what’s the point of his power – his stupid ability to see ghosts? What’s the point of it if he can’t even see the one he wants to see?

Haku feels like it’s all a big practical joke from the universe, and he wants to be in on it because he’s failing to see what’s so funny.

Living an ordinary life, dying an ordinary death – that’s something you deserved to experience, and now you’re gone. It’s an inexplicably painful feeling that stabs at his heart. How is he supposed to fill the hole you left behind?

“I don’t know if this is a good idea…” you murmured, looking shy.

“You look beautiful,” Haku said, easily, a teasing grin on his face at how flustered you looked. His words were far from teasing, though. They were filled with an earnest praise of how gorgeous you looked decorated in white. Just seeing you in wedding attire made him think that it’d be a shame if anyone else got to see how beautiful you looked, but also a shame if no one else got to see. A weird balance of wanting to show you off, yet wanting to keep you to himself lingered inside him.

“Sure, sure,” you grumbled without any bite. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Thanks for agreeing to help, by the way,” Haku said, offering you his hand to take. You took it gratefully, before you shook your head with a laugh.

“It’s nothing. I’m glad I can help your junior in some way, though.”

“Yeah, she really appreciates your help.”

“Good.” The satisfaction on your face made you glow with a sort of shine one could only find in gold. It was precious, it was soft, it was so darling that Haku wanted to make sure that you continued to glow and shine forever. Even if it meant that you weren’t by his side (even though he so desperately wanted you by his side).

“...I know I’m being selfish – but sometimes, I wish you’d forget about me…” he murmured, low enough that he hoped you wouldn’t hear it. You gave him a glance, only squeezing his hand in response. He wasn’t sure how to interpret your reaction, but a part of him wants it to indicate that you wouldn’t ever forget him, even if forgetting him would most likely make you happier.

It’s hard to balance the desire of being remembered and the desire of being forgotten.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

“But I guess that doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Haku muses, looking at the skies above. Stars sprinkle the navy-colored sky like diamonds. He can only hope you’re out there, shining.

From the age of four, Subaru was molded to perfect the performing arts. A child star, a prodigy – those are the titles given to him. He never feels like he deserves that praise – he’s not sure if he’ll ever feel like he deserves that praise. After all, growing up, anxiety was his most reliable companion, following him everywhere he went. How can he not doubt himself?

Yet while he breathed the performing arts, he’s developed mannerisms most around him find peculiar and odd. It’s hard not to think of himself as a bother when he can’t seem to blend into society as well as he’d like.

Because of his oddities, he never thought he’d ever be able to have a normal school life. Somehow, however, he's able to come to Darkwick Academy, experiencing pleasant social interactions due to the kindness of the people around him – people like yourself. You’re someone who Subaru can find a semblance of comfort in, despite his anxiety.

He knows he’s probably annoying you, but you’re always there, always so patient. You don’t make fun of him for his discomfort, nor do you push him beyond his boundaries. Instead, you patiently wait for him, allowing him to walk alongside you at his pace.

So when Subaru hears the news that you’re no longer with the living – no longer with him, he can't stop his mind from spinning. You’ve always been someone that waited for him patiently, yet now you’ve gone off by yourself to somewhere he can’t reach.

Emptily, he looks at the sakura mochi on the shelf – he had bought it for you. You’d eat his meager offerings with gusto, even if not all of them suited your palette.

He’s not sure how he’ll stomach some of the food he’s eaten with you from this point onwards. You’re not here physically, only your memories lingering in the ingredients of his meals. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to stomach the food you’ve made for him if someone else makes it, either.

“I’m sorry,” he had said, running up to you, out of breath.“I didn’t mean to be late.”

“You’re not!” you responded cheerily, patting the spot next to you. “Come, sit!”

“Thank you.” Gingerly, Subaru took the spot next to you, placing his hands on his lap. You peered at him curiously.

“Where’s your lunch, Subaru?”

“Ah.” Subaru ducked his head in embarrassment. “I ended up not being able to get anything.” Despite making you wait, despite his best efforts, he just wasn’t able to secure anything. How shameful. “But it’s all right. I can drink water for lunch.”

“No, don’t do that,” you chastised, lightly. “I actually packed my own lunch today because I thought it’d be busy everywhere. I packed a lot, so why don’t we share?”

“Ah–” Subaru looked at the delectable way your lunch box was crafted. “No, I’d hate to intrude.”

“You aren’t intruding, Subaru.” You nudged one of your lunchboxes into his hand along with some chopsticks. “I’m offering! I’m actually pretty happy with how some of these came out. Won’t you try some?”

At the delicious smell of your lunchbox, Subaru’s stomach let out an embarrassing growl. His face flushed, mortified, but you made no comment on it, instead offering your lunch again. “Well, if you insist,” he murmured, finally taking a box from you. 

Once he took you up on your offer, you dug into your own lunch. Though, Subaru couldn’t help but notice how you’d glance at him nervously. It was kind of cute.

Not wanting to waste your kindness, Subaru took a bite of the lunch, before his eyes widened with glee. “This is delicious!”

“Whew– I mean, great! I’m so glad,” you beamed. “If you tell me some of your favorite food, I can try to make it for you! I can’t guarantee it’ll be as good as Sho’s, but I can try!”

“I couldn’t ask you to,” Subaru responded, bashfully. The thought that you cared for him was enough to satisfy him. “I would hate to be a bother.”

“You’re never a bother, Subaru.” Your voice was so kind, so soft and genuine that Subaru didn’t really know how to react.

“Really?” Disbelief laced his voice. He hated being a bother but always felt like he was. He knew that you were already spending your precious lunch with him when you could spend it with anyone else. There wasn’t any way you’d care about him to that extent, right? 

“Subaru?” you asked, concerned.

“I just can’t believe it – why…” Subaru paused, suddenly hit with a bout of embarrassment. “Ah– I don’t want to seem like I’m testing you, I just… I get really anxious sometimes… I’m sorry. I’m being weird, aren’t I?”

“You’re not.” Your voice rang clear inside the storm in Subaru’s head, letting sunshine stream through the clouds. “I’ve never thought you were a bother. I actually really enjoy my lunches with you.”

“Really?”

“Yup! So if I’m not too much of a bother, let’s eat more lunches together!”

Subaru had promised, promised that he would. He promised that you’d always eat your lunches together because that’s what he sincerely believed. He believed that you two would be able to bask underneath the sunrays, seated on your favorite bench, laughing.

He wants to believe that you’ll still be able to eat together. He wants to believe so desperately. Because who else could bring him the comfort you did? Who else will patiently wait for him to catch up, gently guiding him when he needs it?

But now you’re gone – you’re gone. You won’t be able to come back. It tears at Subaru because his anxiety and inferiority complex tell him that it’s his fault – that he could’ve done something, anything, to save you. 

Why couldn’t he save you?

Why couldn’t you have been saved?

The room that Subaru is in feels too big for him as it slowly fills with his grief.

According to Article 230 in the Japanese penal code, “a person who defames another by publicly alleging facts shall, regardless of whether such facts are true or false, be punished with penal servitude or imprisonment not to exceed three years or a fine of not more than 500,000 yen.” Doesn’t Darkwick know that? Why would Darkwick allege such odd things like your death, Ritsu wonders. Still, he’ll record what the Masterpiece Newscasters are saying – after all, it’ll be useful to leverage against Darkwick when he takes you to argue his cases.

There is little he finds more important than being able to argue his cases, which indicate his proficiency. He needs to be proficient in order to be able to become a fantastic lawyer like his father – this has always been his goal. Even after meeting you, it’s been his goal.

Some may have thought that you would’ve been a distraction for Ritsu, but he’s certain that your presence in his life has been for the better. You’re a fantastic business partner, being perfect to bounce his ideas off of. It’s admirable that you’ve taken on the mantle of ridding yourself of your curse, too. Ritsu finds that most people aren’t that hard working or really worth his time (unless they’re clients), but you’re different. You’re worth his time.

“Could I ask you to accompany me a little longer?” he had asked one day as you’re about to leave the diner. “I realize it’s outside of business hours, but… I would appreciate it if you could make a special exception.”

“Oh?” you looked surprised, though it was soon replaced with a smile. Your smile was something Ritsu appreciated seeing nowadays – something that felt like visible proof of Ritsu’s hard work. “Yeah, sure! I have time. What do you need?”

“I have to go over a few notes,” Ritsu responded, passing a notebook over to you. “I’ve already gone through these once, but I’d appreciate it if you could go through it, too. It’ll prove beneficial for you.”

“Yeah, sure, leave it to me!”

Your eagerness to help Ritsu cemented the fact that you were the right choice for his business partner. As the hour slowly trailed on, the both of you focused on your respective reading, Ritsu found that he didn’t quite mind spending time with you like this, outside of business hours. He found your presence calming, yet also helpful – he found it easier to focus when you were around.

It was nice. Even as the two of you began to wrap up, Ritsu wasn’t in as much of a hurry to disappear. 

“I’ll take your thoughts into consideration,” Ritsu said as you two left the diner. The night sky stretched out beautifully above you two. Ritsu had never noticed it before.

“Sounds good!”

Ritsu cleared his throat, offering you a hand to shake. You shook his hand without much preamble. He appreciated it. “It seems we make better business partners than I would have expected. I look forward to a long and prosperous relationship with you.”

“Likewise.”

He still thought about the smile you’d given him that night, bright like the moon. It was a smile that made it obvious that he had someone by his side to support him – someone that he can support in return. 

So, there’s no way you’re gone. Not when you have him as a business partner. That’s a ludicrous thought.

Still, he can’t seem to shake the ill feeling from his body. Why aren’t you responding to your texts? You’re usually quite timely unless something has come up. Something…

No, there’s no way you’re gone. There’s just no way.

Ritsu’s grip on his briefcase tightens.

He feels like he’s going to be sick.

Romeo wants to scream, so he does. “Everyone, leave!” His voice echoes in his room, his workers trying to scramble out of Romeo’s wrath. With a frustrated string of curses, Romeo collapses on his expensive chair, the one encrusted with diamond – the one that you’d complimented.

Romeo truly, utterly, feels sick. He feels annoyed. He feels disgusting. His perfect porcelain skin is marred with wrinkles, a frown deep set in his face. How dare you – how dare you have the audacity to leave him. He never gave you permission to do things like this, so how could you go away? He’s always known you were bad at following directions, but this is too much, even for you.

No.

What’s too much is that someone, someone, thought that they could come in and take you from him. How dare they! They didn’t even get permission from him! They didn’t… So why would they? They can’t take you away from him, not when you’re the only one that listens to him. Not when you’re the only one who seems to care about not making wrinkles appear on his face. Not when you’ve been doing your best.

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.

“Why are you carrying that?! What if you drop it and it breaks?” Romeo exclaimed, watching you carry a very expensive vase.

“Ah – I heard you say that the guys who’re supposed to move this haven’t done their job, so I thought I could help!”

Help?! Romeo couldn’t help but look at the way your arms trembled with the weight of a price that far exceeded your budget, doubt coloring his face. “I’ll get one of our young guys to do it, so put it down already!”

You huffed, putting the vase down carefully, with a defeated sigh. “Sorry, I just wanted to help.”

“Help where you’re actually useful,” Romeo grumbled, crossing his arms. If those idiots that he’d asked to move the vase actually moved the vase, then he wouldn’t be in this predicament. “Those WTWUT make my life much harder.”

“Wall-to-wall useless trash, huh?” you mused. Romeo thought that amusement looked good on you – it gave you a cocky look that suited you. If only everyone else could be like you, then he wouldn’t be as stressed as he was. 

“I need a face pack,” he muttered.

“Do you want me to get it for you?”

“Hm. Sure.” Romeo paused. “Get one for yourself while you’re at it.”

“Me?” you looked at him with curiosity and shock written across the apples of your cheeks.

“Who else?”

“I just… I dunno. Do you think it’s okay?”

“Of course. What could you possibly be afraid of?” Romeo asked. “You’re one of my people! Who’s going to say anything?”

You looked contemplative, before a light smile crossed your features. “That’s true. I guess no one can really say anything to you.”

Your words make him feel powerful. Your actions do, too. When he’s with you, he feels like the world is in his palms. But now he’s without you. Now, he’ll always be without you.

Anger thrums through his veins. 

You’re one of his people. How dare they take you away from him? Romeo won’t stand for it. He’ll snipe down the bastard that did this to him – that did this to you.

“You BTH!” Romeo yells, storming into Taiga’s room with the fury of a thousand bulls. “You’re still lazing around?”

Taiga doesn’t respond, twirling a gun in his hand. He’s not entirely in his right mind right now, but he can still pick up “revenge” and “snipe” among the various words Romeo spews.

“You better do your part,” Romeo hisses, finally deciding to leave Taiga alone. Maybe Romeo would’ve stayed longer to nag at Taiga if Romeo were in a better state of mind. Taiga can’t really bring himself to care at the moment, though, his own state of mind is a jumbled mess.

Flashes of memories, flashes of thoughts – they alternate inside his head, before phasing out of existence. He’s not sure when it started, but his mind has been deteriorating, memories floating in and out of his head. What most would consider “common sense” is also something Taiga has been losing grasp of.

Even in spite of that, somehow, you’ve made your way into his brain, like a little parasite that burrows into his thoughts. He didn’t think he could remember someone – not in his current state of mind, anyway. He didn’t think he could form an attachment to you either, not with how he just doesn’t want to care anymore. The world’s going to burn, everything unfurling into a messy pile of futures that could be and won't be. It’s all messed up, it’s all gonna be messed up. Yet, somehow, despite all that, Taiga can’t help but think of you as some source of light, a beacon of hope that he kept around to stop him from completely drowning in the dark murkiness of the future.

“That’s it, kitty-cat,” he had said, placing you in his lap as he prepared to play another round of blackjack. “I feel like my luck’ll change if you’re around.”

“I don’t know about that,” you responded, watching as the dealer handed out everyone’s cards. You fidgeted in his lap like a cute little cat, clearly trying to break your discomfort.

“Quit failing around,” Taiga said, looking at his cards. To Taiga’s amusement, you settled in his lap to the best of your abilities, leaning into his chest. He pulled you closer, as he continued to play blackjack. 

The longer he played, the more he felt some odd sense of peace with you snuggled in his lap. Your smell and warmth wrapped around him like a little security blanket. In some ways, it made him want to consume you wholly until you couldn’t think of anything else that wasn’t him. It made him hungry.

But now, there’s a hollow feeling inside of him, something that bypasses physical hunger. He hungers for your soul that’s now no longer here. The pitch-black murkiness of the future spreads even further across his eyelids, being the only thing he can see. Fate has dealt him a bad hand that he had tried to win against.

He never could win, though, could he?

“Tell me something, would you?” Taiga laughs in his empty room, eyes staring at the ceiling. He searches and searches, but can’t find any sight of you. “What could I have done different to change this outcome?”

Ren has always thought that coming to Darkwick Academy was a mistake. His experience didn’t exactly start off nicely, what with him being sorted into Jabberwock and having to deal with the annoying Jabberwock captain. All those stupid anomalous animals made it so that he rarely had time to himself, even if he tried his best to lock himself in his room.

Still, there’s a silver lining to everything. Sure, Towa keeps trying to feed some odd looking porridge. Sure, Haru is still meddlesome and annoying. But they’re… not bad. And you’re here, so it’s kind of okay. 

He’s always thought that people doing annoying things for the sake of friends or whatever were delusional – frankly speaking, he could care less. Yet, when he looks at you, he thinks that maybe there are people out there who do things because they want to. Initially, you’d been somewhat of a doormat to him, but then he realized that your voluntary help came because you care about others – about him.

He can’t count the number of times you’ve come to help him out, whether it’s with the anomalous animals or a raid in his new game. You’ve just… always been there. He didn’t think it was possible, but your constant presence had carved out a you-shaped hole in his life, a place only you could fit.

So how’s he supposed to fill that emptiness now? It’s all your fault, Ren thinks. If only he hadn’t met you… but then, if he hadn’t met you, he doesn’t think he could’ve survived.

“Well done me for surviving another day…” Ren had grumbled, dusting his jumpsuit off. He hated getting dirty, but it wasn’t like he could avoid it in Jabberwock, especially if Haru was going to hound him continuously. 

“Good job, Ren!”

He looked up, seeing how you still looked cute despite the mud and disheveled hair. He found it kind of unfair. “Oh, same to you,” he said. “I don’t know how you can do this stuff voluntarily.”

“The animals are cute and you guys need the help,” you replied, waving at him to bend down. “Ren, there’s some mud on your face. Do you mind if I wipe it off?”

“Huh? You’re the type who does this kind of stuff, huh?”

“Ah, sorry–”

“No, you can,” Ren said. It wasn’t like he gave you permission to help him because he wanted to feel your touch, though. It was because he couldn’t stand the mud on him. Yup. That was definitely the reason. Still, even then, he couldn’t help the way his heart thudded against his chest as you gently wiped the grime off of his face. “It’s from that stupid bull anomaly kicking dirt in my face, isn’t it?”

“I think that’s when it happened, yeah,” you responded with a laugh. “But I’m here if you need me, so I can help you.”

Ren didn’t know what to say to your honest desire to help him, it was oddly sweet of you. You had been his only real source of comfort, what with everyone else wanting so much from him. You were the only one who watched his B-horror movies with him – the only one who’d game with him.

“There, all done! Let’s go back to the dorms. I’m sure you’ll feel better after a shower.”

“...Thanks,” he muttered, walking with you back to the Jabberwock dorms. The skies were painted shades of pink and purple, the sun ready to head to bed.

“Even though it’s hard work, it’s nice to be able to see the sunset, huh?” you hummed. Ren liked the sound of your voice – not too loud like Haru’s and not too incomprehensible like Towa’s.

“Yeah.” He breathed in deeply, feeling the fresh air purify his lungs. “Every day here is a fresh hell, though.”

“Aw, Ren,” you laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty hard work, huh?”

“...Yeah. But, you’re suffering through it with me, so I guess I’ll stick it out for a little longer…”

But how’s he supposed to stick it out now? You’re not here anymore. You’re not going to be there to help him. You’re not going to be there when he wants to watch his B-horror movies or play games. You’re not going to be there when he buys you a drink as he walks you home.

You’re not going to be here. And he didn’t even get to say goodbye…

Ren’s always been bad at goodbyes – he couldn’t even wish Calamari farewell. But he’d have rather been able to say something to you since he’s not going to be able to say anything to you ever again now. Never, ever again.

Ren doesn’t know how he’s going to survive.

Ever since Towa found out about your death, the skies in Jabberwock have been marred with thick clouds and thunder. His precious, precious Dandelion – how can you be gone? You can’t be gone yet. You haven’t told him all the love stories you had in your arsenal. You haven’t tried all the flowers Towa wants to offer you. You haven’t shown him all the reactions you’ve stored away for him to slowly bring to the surface.

You can’t be gone just yet, he won’t allow it.

Murkiness swims inside Towa’s heart as he grapples with the anger and sadness that fight and merge into an incomprehensible seed of emotion that is planted deeply within Towa’s heart. Should he just strike everyone down? You’re not here, so as long as he avoids Haru, it doesn’t matter who he hurts. It’s not like he particularly cares about anyone else on campus anyway. 

But he can’t allow his emotions to explode out of him just yet, not when the tree on the hill is dying. You care about that tree as well, after all. 

But then where is he supposed to spill his anger? His grief? Where does it all go?

Is this what love is? This agony?

Towa hasn’t ever really been certain about what “love” is. 

“Well, love can be a lot of things,” you had said, laying by his side on the hill with the tree. You were enraptured with the stars, but Towa couldn’t help but look at you. You were so much like a dandelion, your resilience and strength shining through despite your troubles. And you were cute like a Dandelion. Your voice was nice, too, like the wind that carried dandelion seeds across the world. “Like… there’s romantic love, platonic love, familial love, and all of that, you know? Even within romantic love, it can be a lot of different things.”

“Like what?” Towa asked, making you hum in thought.

“Uh… like soulmates, I guess? Some people meet their soulmates, some don’t. But even if you don’t meet your soulmate, you can still find someone you romantically love. Maybe you’ll meet your soulmate but not realize they’re your soulmate too. It’d be hard to tell, right?”

“When you meet your soulmate, it feels like getting struck by lightning. Did you know that? Have you felt it, Dandelion?” Towa’s words made you turn your head towards him, finally paying attention to him instead of the stars. Towa liked the way you looked at him.

“I don’t think I have,” you responded, truthfully. “But I’m not in a rush. I’m sure I’ll find the person I love, even if they’re not my soulmate. Hell, maybe anyone can be your soulmate. Maybe soulmates are made when you love and grow with each other. Who knows?” A yawn escaped your mouth as you finished your thought.

“Heh heh.” Towa’s eyes crinkled at the sight. “Are you tired, Dandelion? You’re so weak. It’s cute.”

“Hey!” you laughed. “I’m getting stronger, y’know.” Flexing your arm, you show off a small bit of the muscle you’ve been building up. Towa couldn’t help but be amused at your little display of strength, miniscule in front of his own power. It was hard not to find it cute that you tried to carry so many burdens on your shoulders despite your own weaknesses. Towa could only surmise that your resilience came from the love within you. He hoped that he could be a part of that love inside of you.

“Do you like me, Dandelion?” Towa inquired, smile bright. “Because I love you!”

Towa doesn’t fully know what love is – it’s an idea he’s always been in love with, but has no experience and understanding of. You’re the closest he’s ever gotten to potentially finding the answer he’s been looking for. But now you’re gone. He doesn’t know how he’ll understand love now.

He hugs the great tree on the hill, tears trickling down his face.

 When the little mermaid turned into seafoam, did she feel this way too?

Haru is always busy. He wakes up busy and sleeps busy. Nothing ever seems to stop for him, time constantly slipping through his fingers like sand no matter how fast he runs.

So why did time have to stop for you?

Even as Haru makes his rounds, Towa’s lightning in the backdrop as he works, he can’t seem to keep his mind busy enough to not think of you. Thoughts and memories of you run around his head again and again and again. They run so fast that he can’t seem to catch up.

So Haru does what he can do to maintain routine. At the very least, maintaining routine should help him adjust, shouldn’t it? But as he carries out his daily chores, all he can think about is how you’d help him around Jabberwock. How you would give him sweets to amp up his energy. How you loved Peekaboo like it was your own.

“Boo…” Peekaboo says, aware of the tenseness and wariness on Haru’s shoulders – aware of the fact you’re no longer there. Peekaboo’s tears make your death weigh even heavier on Haru’s heart as he cuddles the small beast in his arms.

“You sure are fond of the Honor Student, aren’t you, Peekaboo?” Haru had asked, looking at how Peekaboo cuddled up against your chest as you fed it. “You did nothing but bite me for the first three days after we met.”

You laughed brightly, releasing a sound that Haru was quite fond of. “The only reason Peekaboo’s not biting me is because it’s used to you, you know.”

“You reckon?” Haru responded, reaching out to pet Peekaboo who welcomed the touch.

“See? Look at that. Peekaboo loves you so much.” You gave Peekaboo a kiss on its cute fluffy forward, making the small anomalous animal make happy little squeaks. “You like your dad quite a bit, don’t you?”

The sight of you and Peekaboo together made Haru’s heart warm. He was constantly managing things by himself that he never really expected to find a stable support system. Towa, while competent, could be quite moody. Ren, too, while able bodied, refused to do a lot of the work. So, of course, work always fell on Haru’s weary shoulders. He never expected to find someone that could provide him the support he needed – like the other parent of Jabberwock. “Then you’re a bit like Peekaboo’s mother, eh?”

“I wouldn’t mind – not when my child is as cute as Peekaboo!” you replied brightly, patting Peekaboo’s back to allow it to burp. After releasing a burp too large for such a small animal, Peekaboo cuddled into you, satisfied. You hummed out a little tune as you rocked the little anomalous animal to sleep. Seeing you made a smile stretch across Haru’s face.

“Really learned the ropes here, haven’t you?” he said, gently ruffling Peekaboo’s fur. “Once we have a little cash to spare, I’ll buy you your own Jabberwock uniform!”

You’d no longer need it, though, Haru thinks, thumb brushing against the fabric of the Jabberwock uniform he had gotten for you. While you aren’t officially a part of the Jabberwock House, it’s hard not to feel like you belonged. 

But you’re no longer here – you no longer belong to the living, so how could you belong to Jabberwock? Haru wishes that you were still here, though. It hasn’t even been a day, but he already misses you. Even if you couldn’t help him out every day, just getting a text message boosted his spirits. Just thinking about the fact that you’d help him with Jabberwock duties and his personal issues helped him get through his cumbersome day.

You were someone he could depend on and he wanted to be someone you could depend on. But, in the end, he couldn’t protect you.

His responsibilities sit heavily on his shoulders.

Sho has always kept himself busy. Whether it’s cooking, playing sports, training, or something else, Sho has always liked to do something. Maybe that’s why he’s in the kitchen, cooking your favorite meal, while he tries to process what the Masterpiece Newscasters had prattled on about earlier.

You’re dead?

There’s no way. You can’t be.

He thinks back to the first case you worked on together, the one with Takeru. He had failed to protect you then and vowed he wouldn’t put you in the way of danger like that again. So how? Why?

Who killed you?

Sho slams a fist on the kitchen counter, lips pressed in a thin line. Frustration bubbles inside him as curses leave his lips in rapid succession.

You can’t be dead. You can’t. Not when you’ve been working so hard. Not when you’ve been doing everything in your power to survive. Not when you’ve inspired and helped him to the point that he still feels like he has to repay you. Not when he hasn’t done or told you everything he wants to.

“Fuck!” he yells, slamming his fists on the kitchen counter once more.

You jolted when he yelled a curse, slamming a fist on the wall.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Sho said, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck. You were fun to tease and get reactions out of, but that didn’t mean he wanted to scare you.

“What’s the matter, Sho?” you asked, putting down your knife. “Tell me. I might be able to help you.”

“It’s nothing,” Sho started to say, before the look on your face made him stop. He snorted at how displeased you looked. “It’s just that some back order stuff got delayed. I won’t have enough forks for tomorrow.”

“Oh, is that it?” you asked, looking relieved. “I have a bunch of plastic forks back at the cathedral, actually. Do you want me to get them?”

“Huh? Why do you have a bunch of plastic forks laying around?”

“Uh… let’s just say that I had some ordering issues.” You waved a hand to dismiss the question. “Anyway! I can go get them.”

“Nah, let’s go together.” He shuffled around, before pulling out a helmet and tossing it to you. “Here, this helmet’s for you.”

“Oh, this one looks awesome!” you beamed, turning the helmet around in your hands. It was in your favorite color with your favorite patterns. Sho huffed out a laugh at your response. You were so cute sometimes.

“Glad you like it. C’mon.” He pushed the door to the food truck open with his foot. “Let’s go.”

“Okay!”

“After this,” he began, closing and locking the door once you were both out of the food truck, “I got some time today, so I’ll take you somewhere. Anywhere you wanna go.”

He still remembers the way your arms felt around his waist as you clung to him while he drove. He still remembers the way your eyes sparkled watching your favorite scenery. He still remembers how his heart pounded in his chest, the feeling of liberation lifting his spirits, as he drove through the streets with you clinging to him.

Your determination has always felt like freedom to Sho – it’s what inspired him to put more effort into his life at Darkwick. It’s what inspired him to take things more seriously. 

But maybe he should’ve taken things more seriously when he had the chance. Now that you’re gone, so is his chance to prove himself to you. You've gone somewhere too far, somewhere no one else can reach. 

This isn’t the freedom he had envisioned for you.

Whenever Sho gets too emotional, Leo is quick to make fun of him. It's stupid to get too riled up, Leo thinks. The world is boring and easy to manipulate, after all. Why should he get upset? 

Leo has always been able to get what he wants – he even became vice-captain, for fuck's sake. He basically solved Takeru’s case by himself while also trying to get rid of you because your stupid stigma enhancement might overshadow him. Sure, he couldn't get rid of you then but it's not like he can't try again, especially when you keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

But this isn’t how he wanted to get rid of you. Who said you could just die? It’s so stupid. It’s so dumb that it makes Leo feel angry. You stupidly kept going despite his scathing remarks, despite people walking all over you and disrespecting you, so why are you dead? You’re not allowed to be dead.

You still need to help him use Haxs. You still need to be there so he can get a sense of validation when he watches your reactions. You still need to be here because out of everyone on campus, your presence is somewhat tolerable. Who’s he gonna comfortably boss around now?

“Ha ha. You were photobombing one of my pics so I uploaded it and said I had a new girlfriend,” Leo snickered as you brushed his hair. He didn’t think you’d be so good at it, but he found that his hair was smoother when you brushed it. “10K interacts in less than an hour. Suckers.”

“Is that okay?” you asked, making Leo roll his eyes.

“It’s fine, Honor Roll. In fact, shouldn’t you be grateful?”

“That’s not what I meant.” you huffed, tugging his hair lightly as you untangled a knot. It felt nice. “I mean, are you okay? Don’t influencers get harassed if they post about their significant others?”

Leo hated this whole goody-two-shoes act you had going on. Why were you so concerned about him? It wasn’t like he was particularly nice to you and it wasn’t like you necessarily treated him better than you would anyone else. Were you just stupidly nice in general? “Being an influencer means you get hate mail anyway,” he responded, closing out of his social media app. It wasn’t really all that interesting anymore.

“Hm… I see.” You became silent, which made Leo feel oddly annoyed. “People can really suck sometimes.”

Leo snorted. He had been anything but kind to you, really, so he thought you’d have already come to that conclusion a while ago. “It’s whatever. They’re all basic.”

He knew that this was the point where you could say something about him coming to you to talk (which he would never do, barf), but you don’t. Instead, you continue to thread your fingers through his hair gently.

He hated to admit it, but it was relaxing.

“Okay, I think I’m done,” you hummed, removing your hands from him. He noted that it was slightly colder when you left, but chalked it up to the poor heat regulation in Vagastrom. “Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day, Leo! I got you something.”

Leo turned to you curiously as he combed his fingers through his hair, which definitely felt softer. He gingerly took your offering, before his eyes widened. “This is that ultra-spicy chocolate they only sell this time of year… I’m actually genuinely stoked right now.”

“I’m glad!” you beamed. It was a smile that Leo thought was slightly less ugly than usual. In general, you had been looking slightly less ugly lately, actually. That thought made him feel nauseous.

“Wanna make a bet, Honor Roll?”

You blinked at him, suddenly looking wary. He used to think that expression was so stupid, but now he thought it was kind of cute in a dumb kind of way. “What type of bet…?”

“A bet over which will come first – me falling for you, or you getting hooked on me.”

There’s no conclusive way to find out the end to this bet now, not with you gone. But he thinks you probably got hooked on him first – after all, it’s not like he’s thinks about your stupid laugh or dumb words of encouragement when he feels down or anything. Besides, as far as the internet’s concerned, you’re already dating him.

He briefly thinks about uploading a post about your death. Those suckers online would eat it up, sending him pity and sympathy. But the thought is so unappealing that he drops it. It’s not like your death is gonna matter to other people.

After all, life sucks and then you die, right? It’s just a part of living and he’s not pathetic enough to suddenly miss you. But there’s a disgustingly hollow feeling in his chest as his thoughts ring too loudly. You’re just an NPC – aren’t NPCs supposed to live quietly in the background while the main characters get their character development or whatever? 

Why couldn’t you just quietly live your life like that?

You’re so stupid.

Alan has always felt like a monster. His hands – his stigma – have crushed so many things until they’ve become nothing but dust. He’s never been proud of this strength, not when he causes so many to cower. 

He had expected you to cower, too, especially after he ripped Takeru’s ghost apart in front of you, so lost in the bloodlust. But you hadn’t. You stood by his side with as much care and compassion you could muster. When he wanted to keep looking into the case of Takeru’s ghost even after it was considered “finished” by Darkwick, you offered to help him even though you didn’t need to.

Alan’s never really been a conversationalist, so he didn’t expect you to spend time with him unless it was necessary. Still, he can’t say he dislikes having you around. Even when he’s tinkering with his car, it’s nice to have you sitting nearby, talking about your day.

You’re someone he appreciates – someone who does their best no matter how dire the situation is, someone who strives to do better. How could he not grow fond of how hard you work on a daily basis?

“I pat people on the head a lot? Didn’t notice,” Alan had said, after placing his hand on your hair. He really hadn’t realized – it was a force of habit, especially when you had done such a good job. “I’m doing it again?” he murmured, removing his hand, “...Sorry.”

“It’s nothing you have to be sorry for,” you responded, honestly. “It was just an observation.”

Despite knowing that his hands were akin to weapons, Alan couldn’t help but be drawn to touching you. Unlike him, you were soft and sweet. Still, he felt guilty. He hadn’t ever wanted you to feel uncomfortable, after all. 

“I actually kind of like it when you pat my head,” you said. “You’re really gentle with it, so it makes it feel like I did a good job!”

Alan would never describe his touch as gentle, but he felt like he could believe it if it came from you.“You’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks!” you responded, giving him a big smile that he couldn’t say he had seen from other people. Most other people here had cunning smiles or looked fearful of him. He liked how genuine yours looked. “I can keep trying my best because of you and the others, you know? Thanks a lot.”

Alan couldn’t really recall if he had done anything to receive this type of praise from you, but your words made him feel relaxed. He felt like you helped him feel more human. “I’m lucky I’ve got you,” he said, trying to express his gratitude. “As long as you’re with me, I feel like I won’t lose sight of who I am.”

But now you’re no longer here. It makes Alan scared of himself in a way that he’s never felt before. He had treated you gently, like you were made of glass, because he was scared he’d break you. Yet you weren’t ever scared of him breaking you. Being with you softened up his edges and made him feel more human than monster.

You’re no longer here, though.

Perhaps it has always been his fate to become a monster.

Kaito hasn’t stopped crying since he’s heard the Masterpiece Newscasters relay the news of your death. It hurts so bad. 

Kaito doesn’t think he’s ever been so badly hurt in his life. 

Kaito’s never been one to like pain, which is why he avoids training and going on missions. He wants to be normal and being a ghoul is abnormal. The non-ghouls around him cement that on a daily basis. Yet you’re one of the only non-ghouls who has always treated him kindly no matter what.

Even when he’s a pathetic idiot or a stupid coward, you’ve always been so patient and kind to him. Kaito has liked a lot of girls on a surface level, but his feelings towards you have evolved beyond that. He thinks you’re pretty and lovely and all of that, of course, but more than that, he thinks you’re an amazing person. Amazingly strong, amazingly hard working – you’re someone he values so deeply. Even when he knows he’s being foolish, you’re there by his side because you care about him, aren’t you? So how could he not grow to care about you? You’re the few people that he feels he can truly be close to.

“Whoa, when did it get so late?!” Kaito gasped, looking at the window outside. You two had been baking since noon, but ended up goofing off at some point, delaying the baking process. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you…”

“I’m still good!” you responded, before taking a big bite out of your cookie. While chewing your sweet treat, you offered Kaito a piece, too.

“Really?” Kaito asked, taking the cookie you offered him.

“Yeah, I like spending time with you.”

Your words made Kaito’s heart swell with so much gratitude and affection that he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. He always considered himself lackluster in practically everything, but he felt like he could do better and try to be better because you were there. He couldn’t help the cheesy grin that came onto his face.

“Oh, look, Kaito! The stars look so pretty!”

Kaito looked over at the large window in the kitchen, watching as the stars twinkled in the night sky.

“It kind of looks like granulated sugar if you squint, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I can see it!” Kaito responded, before tentatively asking, “...Do you like stars?”

“I do,” you replied, taking another bite of your cookie. “Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, um,” Kaito hesitated, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden. You weren’t the type to just reject him harshly, but sometimes Kaito felt nervous in more intimate moments. When you genuinely seemed to return his affections (romantic or not) it made him feel valued as a human being, but it also made him nervous. “I was just wondering ‘cause there’s this place where you can see them really well, so I thought you’d want to go some time…”

“I would love to!” you beamed at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Kaito didn’t think the sun needed to shine if you were around. “You always do find the best places.”

Your words of validation made Kaito feel teary. You’d always been by his side, no matter what. You didn’t have to be his princess or anything like that. In fact, you’d saved him a lot of times before. Still… “I know I’m weak, and a coward,” he began, “But I really do want to become your knight in shining armor.”

In the end, Kaito never could become your knight in shining armor. Not when you’re gone like this. He couldn’t protect you and it tears him up inside. If he had trained and went on missions, would things be different? If so, why couldn’t the other ghouls help you instead? You deserve to be alive – you deserve it so much more than anyone else.

Kaito continues to wail inside his room, frustrated that he’s upset at other people not saving you – it’s him that couldn’t save you. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault and he’ll never be able to make it up to you.

He’ll never become your knight in shining armor.

For the first time since coming to Darkwick, Luca feels numb. He’s not sure how to cope with the fact that your death has come so suddenly. He had promised you that he’d help you absolve your curse, just like you promised him you’d help him subjugate a demon. Yet… you’re gone. You’re not here. You cannot keep your promise to him and he cannot keep his promise to you. It makes him feel hollow.

Luca has always felt that honesty was the best policy, which contributed to his straightlaced nature. He’s been called inconsiderate because of this and he’s lost people who could’ve been his friend. Him being a ghoul hadn’t helped, either, since he was the only ghoul back in Emrys Academy. When he came to Darkwick Academy, all he expected was to learn ways to subjugate a demon. Sure, it would’ve been nice to make friends, but Luca wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Not when he was so set on his goal to find his brother, at least.

Most aren’t understanding of Luca’s honesty and desire to bring back his brother, thinking his one track mind is a hassle. But you’ve never treated him like he was a nuisance. You’ve always greeted him brightly and worked with him. Whether you guys looked for information on curses and demons or practiced meditation for a clearer mind, you’ve been there.

But you’re not going to be there anymore, are you? Not when he’s meditating, not when he’s looking things up in the library, not when he needs the encouragement – you’re not going to be there.

He at least has hope that he’ll be able to bring his brother back. With you, he knows he can never bring you back. You’re gone, forever. You’ll never be there to experience anything with him anymore.

“We have experienced many joys and sorrows together since becoming friends. I’m very glad we met. I look forward to walking the road ahead with you,” Luca had said one day, while you two were meditating. While meditating, Luca couldn’t seem to clear his mind from thinking about you and all you’d done for him, so he thought it was only right for him to express it.

“Me too,” you responded, earnestly. Luca liked talking with you because you were candid with him, but patient. Even when he interrupted your meditation. “You’ve been a great ally to me, so thanks a lot, Luca.” You stretched your arms over your head, before staring at the setting sun. Sometimes, Luca wasn’t sure what went through your head.

“You’ve been a great ally to me as well.” Luca could scarcely remember people who tried as hard as you. He was duty-bound to a fault that he had trouble abandoning his mission, so he had trouble understanding people who wanted to run away. You were one of the few that came back despite wanting to run away. How could he not be impressed with you?

“That makes me glad to hear!” you replied, beaming brightly. Luca liked your smile. It radiated a warmth that reminded him of home. “Let’s keep doing our best!”

“Yes, let’s.” Luca watched as you kept your gaze on the setting sun. The soft colors of the sky were quite a sight to behold, but Luca wasn’t sure why it was distracting you.

“You know, Luca?” you called, as if you could read his mind. “They say that as long as you’re on Earth, you’ll see the same sun as the people you love. Isn’t that nice?”

Luca could be slow to pick up on things sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid. He could tell that those words were meant to console you after you’d been stripped from your family so suddenly (he’d come to understand the reasons for your desire to leave that day when you were working on your first case after many conversations with you). Yet, your words carried an undertone that implied that you told him about the sun to console him as well. Him, who was far from his family. Him, whose brother had gone missing. Him.

Those words were meant for him, but he cannot see the value in them now. Not when you’re no longer on this Earth. Not when you’re no longer alive. The sun still shines so brightly over Darkwick as if undeterred by your death. It pains Luca because time feels like it’s stopped for him, yet the world seems to move on. 

Luca closes his eyes, heart throbbing.

“I’m sorry… Yet again I have failed to protect the people most important to me…”

The first thing Tohma does when he hears of your death is smoke to calm his nerves. He’s counting down the minutes until Jin calls him, but Tohma can’t seem to shake the sudden burst of numbness that shoots through his veins.

He hates to admit it, but your death has shaken him up more than he’d like. Of course, he’ll have to hide it. He’ll have to get a hold of himself – especially since everyone else will be in a tizzy. But even though he knows this, he’s having a hard time controlling his own emotions.

You’re the only one who is stupidly earnest in everything you do, allowing him bits of amusement in his life. You’re the only one that’s helped him feel like he could forget everything he’s got to do and be. You’re the only one who tries to lift the burden on his shoulders. You’re the only one and it makes Tohma’s lungs feel empty.

What vermin had killed someone as lovely as you?

“Welcome to high society,” Tohma had said, taking your hand in his for a dance. “That outfit suits you well. With that poise, you’ll have no trouble fitting in here.” And he was right, you looked beautiful, like the belle of the ball.

“Aha, sure,” you murmured, wincing as you stepped on his foot. “Oh god, I’m so sorry! I’m still so bad at this…”

“Inexperience is not a crime,” Tohma responded, twirling you in his arms. “The important thing is choosing to not remain ignorant when you don’t know something.” While most would assume Tohma was talking about your dancing capabilities, you knew that he meant something beyond that, too. You were smart like that, after all, and so hardworking. You chose to not remain ignorant.

“You’re right.” You nodded. “I’m gonna do my best.”

“I look forward to your efforts,” he hummed. “And in times of difficulty, I hope you’ll turn to those around you for help. I will be there to keep you safe.”

Tohma takes another drag of his cigarette, watching as the smoke fills the room. He told you he’d protect you. He told you, didn’t he? And yet he couldn’t.

Perhaps a lowly servant like him could never have protected you in the first place.

At the news of your death, Jin’s first move is to slash though the expensive furniture in his room, unsure of where else to let his emotions explode. His hand tightens around his sword as he stabs his sword in the ground, visualizing whoever had the audacity to touch what is his.

How dare they hurt you? How dare they take you away from him?

You, who’s been so stupidly obedient to him without any expectation of riches or glory. You, who’s been stupidly kind to him despite his terse nature. You, who’s been by his side without complaint as long as he ordered it. 

“...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant,” Jin muttered, rolling onto his stomach to give access to his back. Without a word of complaint, you do as you’re told, though Jin couldn’t say you could be a masseuse anytime soon. “...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it.”

“What? I’ve been told I give really good massages, though.”

Jin frowned. “From?”

“My dad.”

Jin snorted out a laugh. “Try harder.”

“Fine, fine,” you muttered, stretching your arms in front of you. “I’m gonna put my back into it!” Jin wondered if you’d actually be able to give him a proper massage, but the effort in itself was amusing (cute, even). Still, regardless of your massages, it was nice to have your hands on his back. He liked being close to you. “How was that?”

“It was fine.”

“What!” you exclaimed, incredulous, before grumbling, “You give a guy a massage and all he does is say it’s bad. Not even a word of thanks.”

With how you were yapping, you must’ve gotten quite comfortable with him. Jin couldn’t say he disliked it. “Never learn, do you?” he asked, rolling onto his back so that he can pull you on to the bed next to him. “I don’t take you being here for granted. I know it won’t last forever.”

Your eyes widened. “Huh?”

“That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Wha– you’re so–” you huffed, before shaking your head, seemingly pleased. “Fine, you win, your majesty. I suppose it's time for this servant to leave.” You made a move to get up, but Jin stopped you.

“I’ve got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight.”

He still can’t forget the way you looked that night – bashful, sweet. He wanted to lock you in with him so that he could have you for as long as possible. Maybe he should’ve. He never took your existence for granted, valuing every second he’s spent with you, but when he said that he knew that your relationship wouldn’t last forever, he never thought it’d be because someone killed you. The thought makes hot rage course through his veins again.

He’s going to kill whatever bastard took you from him.

.

.

.

Faintly, your sage’s ring glows on your finger. 

It asks you a question it’s asked you many times before: “What do you desire?”

You answer the question exactly as you’ve answered it before: “I want to go back.”

The sage ring glows brighter in response.

You wake up on a train.

Your phone beeps.

[chitsangenthusiast]

red is to spider-man as pink is to miles, in that pink is the color of: self-expression, confidence, compassion. if you side with miles, if you want to support his growth, you're going to be in pink

that being said...a pink robe can be removed, and pink hairdye can be washed out

[sourapplesauces]

This is meant to be after the circus, its non canon to my au but its still my human designs ahshshs. I did this on aggie so its super oversimplified and i didnt have much of a story to begin with buuut i sorta came up with one i guess.

The main idea is that nearly a year after escaping the circus, Jax manages to find most of the cast including Pomni and Ragatha. But he doesn’t tell them about it and instead suggests Pomni visit a local café which he is aware Ragatha works at. They end up having this encounter and they’re immediately drawn to each other but they dont reveal who they really are because they both have doubts. So they end up meeting over and over again until eventually theyre like omg ur the loml!!! bla bla bla they grow old and die together. The end!!

[raiiny-bay]

Love, Dhes

Parker,

It's unfair how time with you feels so short. How the last 10 years have felt like no time at all. I like to think there are other versions of us out there, somewhere. Maybe in another timeline, another universe. I like to think we find each other no matter where we are or what we're doing. That we're together and happy and I get to love you in a dozen different lifetimes. That's what I hope, anyway. And I hope when this lifetime ends, we get to start over and do it all again. Because once just isn't enough. Not for me. Not with you.

I hope the next 10 years pass slower.

Love, Dhes

[seefasterdraws]

from the homumiko mines

[keferon]

*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*

Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.

You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah

I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender

…..I made the moodboard….

[mysicklove]

ppl will be like “i support dark content” and then if it’s any other dark content that isn’t yandere fiction they get upset

[kittomykat]

🔞🔞fem anatomy 🔞🔞

Cuddle puddle on your bed in between Jayce and Viktor, and poor Vik is fast asleep next to you. You watch him breathe softly, curling a lock of hair behind his ear when you feel Jayce shift his hips against your ass. He apologized, but when you push back against him and feel his dick hard on your ass, he presses further, breathing against your ear and grasping your hips. He ruts into you a few times before you reach to yank his shorts down and slide his heated cock in-between your thighs. The soft fabric of your leggings feels so smooth as he digs his fingers into your sides, wrapping his arm around your waist and bracing his other arm against the mattress. You go to touch Viktor's cheek gently, and he stirs. Jayce stops, but you squeeze your thighs, reassuring him to keep going. Soon you're yanking your own leggings down, and the moment Jayce feels your slick, he groans and pushes you onto your stomach. If Viktor wakes up now, he'll see Jayce straddling your ass, his arms slide up and around the tops of your shoulders, holding you down as he slowly rocks his hips into you. Soon Viktor does indeed wake up, and now it's his turn to curl a lock of hair behind your ear as you drool into your pillow.

[gunk-ice-tea]

They do share a burden and it's being misinterpreted (mostly by junkers) an atrocious shitpost under the cut

Personally i think he rocks the resting bitch face look 24/7

slay

[shantechni]

12 Shredder: puts Karai in a situation that gets her mutated

12 Shredder: Why would Splinter do this?

LEGIT:

Even Tiger Claw was like, "Ayo, u sure about this?" But Shredder really thought initiating a fight in the same room where someone is hanging from a rope for dear life wouldn't have any unintended consequences😭