#Not sure why I started writing this in 2nd person but it's stuck like that now

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[serpentface]

You meet your other sister-in-law very briefly.

She arrives unannounced in full Odonii garb and a long cloak for the cold, soaked through with rain. She's taller than most men, and carries herself like one too. Her hair spills out of her veil, not only unbraided but a horrendous mess. It's kind of fascinating. You catch a glimpse of a handgun slung across her back, hidden beneath her cloak. This is especially exciting; you’ve never seen one up close. You try to peek around her to get a better look at it, and flush in embarrassment when she catches you, shooting you a cold glare.

It doesn't seem like she speaks much without being spoken to, and you aren’t really the type to initiate conversations either. Livya fills in for the both of you, prompting your sister-in-law to introduce herself. Her name is Couya. You give her a respectful bow and curtsy, she gives a very slight bow back without looking you in the eye. She compliments your necklace. Or at least, she mumbles something while looking in the general direction of your necklace, and it might have been a compliment. You aren’t sure whether there’s something wrong with her or she’s just rude.

She's just her for filial duties at the family shrine, and she doesn't stay long. Livya stops her on her way out. She says she's disappointed that the one time in a year she can be bothered to come by, she shows up looking like a disheveled street-whore in priest's clothing. Look at Hibrides, she didn't even know we were having company and still did up her hair so nicely, and all by herself too. Thank God your father isn't here to see this, he's suffered enough embarrassment as it is-.

Couya stands in the doorway in silence through this whole speech. You thoroughly inspect a loose tile in the floor and try your best to pretend you aren't there. Livya doesn't take her hand off your shoulder the whole time.

---

[I've been writing an overview of Hibrides' first several years of marriage for the hell of it. It's just a summary but it's written with like, the slightest bit of prose, so figured I'd dump a section here]

[fawnsflowerbed]

♡ Picture Perfect ♡

A/N: COMMISSION FOR MY LOVELY SUNSHINE ANON!!!! Thank you so so so much for your support and patience my love, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!!

Content/warnings: Puppy! hybrid reader x Vendetta era! Leon, 2nd person (you/yours), fem AFAB reader, reader calls Leon daddy, very grump x sunshine, lots and lots of fluff, a moment of angst and realisation but it all gets resolved :3

Word count: 7700 est. (sweet jesus)

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Leon hadn’t gone to a shelter expecting anything. An act of service, he told himself. That’s what this was. Entertaining the idea of adoption. Like people who drop loose change into charity boxes, the ones by the cash register with scuffed edges, to feel better about themselves. Right now he feels like the scuffed one. 

‘Go to the shelter,’ Chris said. ‘Hybrids make good companions,’ Chris said. He was vouching for his fellow soldiers at the BSAA, stick-up-the-butt men with trained military hounds. And judging by the posters hung on the windows outside the pet store, satisfaction was guaranteed. So he expected to enter a building of colourful lights, cheery music, and happy hybrids as far as the eye could see. Fluttering butterflies, sunshine and rainbows. Just like the commercials on tv. 

What a heap of shit. A smelly one, too. Big, steamy, stinky load of it. Those flyers were all smoke and mirrors, and let’s just say this was one hell of a broken mirror. The place reeked of bad luck. At least the stalls were cleaner than his conscience. Should he have actually done his research for this, even if it was just for appearances? It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to go looking, right? No, right. 

Leon had seen his fair share of hybrids in his time at the DSO. Missions where he took them out of labs, stopped genetic modification. Sick bastards they were, people prodding rabbits with all kinds of needles. Yeah, he enjoyed taking those types of operations down. 

But he’d also seen the ones trotting around the office on occasion. Trained to sniff out B.O.W blood, or health herbs and antibiotics. And yeah, he was intrigued. Had watched the training rounds, memorised the starting commands, noted the stiff tail and hard gaze on every breed there. So he figured he may as well take a look at the less hard-ass offers.

God, what a mistake that was.

How had the mighty fallen so far? He’d planned to walk the dusty concrete floors with pride, to look down at the row upon row of hybrids only to decide no, he did not in fact, need a pet. A companion. A friend, a lover, whatever. No rabbits, no puppies, no kitties. He was too old for this shit. He’d seen it all before, lazing black cats and bouncy bunnies. Nothing stuck out to him, he’d tried. He could at least say he tried. From then on if anyone asked why his face would sink into a frown watching his coworkers bring in their happy-go-lucky hybrids, he had an open opportunity to rub a calloused palm over the salt-sweat skin of his neck and mutter that he tried.

That’s what mattered, right? Sure, that’s what mattered. He tried. He kept that thought in mind as workers tried introducing him to some of their more ‘respectable’ species, the fluffier cat girls and boxier dog boys. None of it was for him. All of this was a lost cause. 

And then there you were. 

Next thing he knew he had the thought of you living at his house stuck in the back of his head. Not just the back, though. No you’d left handprints - pawprints - over every fissure of his brain, burrowing into the ventricles. Now you were doing two little circles before settling into his cerebrum, digging at the surface to bury down nice and deep. Maybe bury a bone there. Extra comfy. 

He’s stuck. 

You’re a cutie. Pretty as a picture. A fine should be plastered across that sweet face for even existing, a paper bag over your head. It’s a crime for anything resembling you to exist, because otherwise Leon would’ve picked up every hybrid on the street. Those puppy-dog eyes pierced right through his soul like a bullet to the chest. And he left his kevlar vest at home, too. What a mistake. 

A floppy eared thing, fluffed to the max, your tail tapping aimlessly behind you. Bored. Lonely. They kept the pup hybrids in separate kennels when the little kids weren’t here to meet them, so you were on your own. Eyes as big as saucers, he was sure they’d have popped out of your head by now like one of those squeeze toys, the ones you squish so they squeak something reedy and awful. 

Glossy. You looked dejected, sad. Hopeful yet hopeless. In his mind he saw you bounding through long green grass in the dark night, nipping at fireflies between golden giggles. Watching you paw at the sky aimlessly, beckoning upon lightning bugs so you might try and ‘accidentally’ catch one in your mouth. You were made to be loved by someone.

It hurt. In a way you reminded him of his younger self. That cop, once bright eyed and bushy tailed, now decaying and withering into the husk of a human he was now. The one that burned down with the rest of whatever was left of Raccoon City.

And yeah, he wasn’t proud of this shelter specifically being his only pick of the bunch, there were hundreds he could’ve picked from. But this was a boot-out shelter, AKA they only hold onto hybrids for so long before kicking them to the curb. Just the thought of you, your fluffy self out on the streets..

He couldn’t let that happen to you.

And then those wet eyes fell on him and your tail swished quicker, your ears perking. Like a heartbeat picking up, a skipping pulse. You’re playing jump rope with the veins to his heart, his BPM’s music to those fuzzy ears. And that tail? Oh it’s swaying to the beat.

Something in your body seemed to click at the sight of him. It was an instinct, a switch flicking in your puppy brain. If he were in a movie this would be the part where time slows down and the camera focuses on his face and your own, panoramic view of the environment you both found yourselves in. Your face behind the bars, slowly shuffling your way towards him in curiosity. 

That’s when he knew he had to take you home. Surely he was a better choice than the other scum that might get a hold of a soft thing like you. And you seemed sweet. So it was settled.

The paperwork was easy enough. Signing on dotted lines, signatures to his left and right. Handing over his credit card for the chance at ‘friendship’ or something like that. The only thing he truly recalled was leaving with you in the backseat, curled up against the car cushions. 

Change. That’s what this would be.

You were well behaved. Quiet, too. At first anyway. Leon’s whole life had been thrown into disarray and all he had to do was give his credentials to some lady with a blurry nametag, confirm he wasn’t a psycho murderer or trying to Cruella DeVille you for your ears and tail. Which he absolutely didn’t have the time for, so no need to worry about that factor.

It only took a few hours for his house to be filled to the brim with new puppy gear. Collars and leashes of different colours (he couldn’t decide on those), squeaky toys and stuffed animals, comfy clothing, food and water bowls, and of course one of those playpens to lock up overnight. Leon wasn’t entirely educated on how to take care of you. Was he supposed to get you a room, a proper bed? How human was he supposed to treat you? 

The overall adjustment period was fast, for you anyway. Sure, at first you’d gone all timid when he brought you home, staring up at this well-built, shaggy man in a leather jacket like he was about to lock you in your cage forever. Might be a poacher, your brain scrambled together, or one of those mill owners. Yeah, he looked the type. But as soon as you heard him whisper a “Well hey there, sweetheart,” in your direction in hopes of coaxing you out of the backseat you were set and smitten. And in case he was still hesitant, you gave him a pretty clear giveaway on how you felt. After he’d set up your cage in the living room, packed full of blankets and pillows atop your pet bed, and watched you practically dolphin dive into the sea of plush, it became clear you were truly just happy to have a home. You were happy to be with him. 

Not like you spent many days in that puppy bed anyway, it only took a few days for you to come whimpering at Leon's feet in the night to climb under the blankets with him. And of course, he caved. How strong could you expect a man to be? Not to mention the stuffed toys you brought with you every time you hopped up, he’d become familiarised with all their names by the third week. 

Sure, it’d been tough for Leon in some areas, but in some ways it was also easy. You brought solace where you went, and you knew better than to overstep boundaries. He found out quick enough that you didn’t entirely know what to address him as, ‘Leon’ felt strange for some gut reasons but ‘sir’ and ‘mister’ were too formal, so you immediately leapt to daddy. Which, of course, caught him horrendously off-guard. Almost sent him into cardiac arrest the first time you yipped it in his direction, a plaque of cholesterol, fat, and an unbelievable amount of cuteness clogging his arteries. 

The worst part? After a few days he found himself enjoying it. Had his heart fluttering when you giggled it out as he ruffled your ears, rolling onto your back as he gave your belly an affectionate rub. Was he sick for liking it? Sure. He needed a doctor, stat. Symptoms included being extra ready to get home from work, planning his meals more thoroughly, and catching himself daydreaming more than usual. The diagnosis was a fluffy tailed sunshine puppy who trotted around behind him 24/7. A sweet shadow, a nosy thing. Prescribed treatment? Lots of cuddles, apparently. Cuddles, and plenty of daily shenanigans.

On one particular day he caught sight of you padding through the hallway slowly, looking up at all the photos he had hung upon the walls. Drinks with Claire and Chris on his birthday where he (begrudgingly) attended the surprise party they’d set up. Standing in the Whitehouse with some old man in a fancy suit. An old picture of just him sat atop the table below it all, his graduation photo from the police academy. He didn’t have the heart to throw it out. That was merely one of many old-news trinkets scattered around the house, objects that told a mixed story of Leon Kennedy. Well, now it was the house of Leon Kennedy and his puppy girl.

With a soft thud you sat your cute butt down on the floorboards to simply.. Stare. Examine, memorise, imagine what it was all like. 

Maybe his hair was softer in this photo, shaggier in that. Darker features and rougher around the edges, as if someone had switched from watercolour to graphite, defining his jaw. More stubbled and strong now, with a broader frame. Like watching a tree trunk even out, sprouting tough branches, leaves coming to fall over his eyes in bangs. He needed a haircut soon. 

However, in that moment of watching you, he knew he’d made the right decision. He saw it in the way the silhouette of your tail swished in interest, how your flopped ears perked up an inch whenever you focused on the finer details. Most of all he loved that signature puppy head-tilt. He got one of those whenever you didn’t understand what he was saying, be that garble about his work or the lulled out words from whatever book he read to you as you laid in his lap.

Yes, you laid in his lap now. And it was starting to feel so normal to him. The wagging tail in his peripheral vision, your eyes peeking up at his desk in his study. It all came so naturally, including the moments of chaos. One of which was the messy dance of getting you bathed, or dressed.

Baths. God, you stood your ground on baths. As soon as you heard the pipes squeal you took off like a rocket. Zoomed past the potted plants, darting through the backdoor if you could make it in time. Leon had to scoop you up mid-sprint as you wriggled and squeaked to get out of his hold, and shit did you run fast when you felt like it. Oh sure, you dragged your feet to snails-pace when you had to leave the park, but suddenly his puppy had the legs of a trackstar when it was bathtime. Once he actually had you in the warm water it was a whole other thing. You just couldn’t sit still for the life of you. Thank god for bath toys, or else you’d spend every second giving your flapping ears and soaked hair the signature wet dog shake. He turned his back? Shake. Reached for the shampoo? Shake. Went to turn the faucet on? Shake. He’d honestly rather you do that than try to jump out, and at least you got extra comfy with him when it came time to towel dry you. The last time he tried the hairdryer method you’d snapped and barked at the hot air like it was a personal affront, as if the loud hum was cursing you out in its own fan-whirring way. Then came the clothes.

On a good day he could wrangle you into a shirt of some kind (usually one of his own) and a pair of fluffy shorts with a hole in the back for your tail. On other days it was a tug-of-war fight over a v-neck because it’s obviously an invitation to play and growl between giggles and not Leon seriously begging a quiet “Baby- honey, no- Please, sweetheart, Chris is coming over and you can’t be butt naked, listen to daddy-”. Sometimes he really thought those floppy ears were just painted on. God, you were a little menace.

Luckily you were also adorable. Sure, a little dull, but so damn sweet. He couldn’t count how many times he’d pretend to throw a ball, watching you go sprinting out across the floorboards, slipping in your socks, in desperate search for it. Then it’s the head tilt, a routine trot around the coffee table, and sitting in the hall with a quiet whine. Vanished, poof, thin air. Gone.  Not to worry, cause soon Leon calls out an ‘Oh look!’ and the ball has magically teleported back into his hand to your shock and awe. Pawing at his hand and begging him to explain how on earth he learned such witchcraft. 

But there were a few things that threw him off guard about you, even after settling into this routine. For starters, your face. He didn’t mean that in a harmful way, he promises. Cross his heart and all that. But you were just so… gentle. Bright. Sometimes he found himself squinting at the sheer shine of you. Made him wonder if you came with batteries that just never got removed, corroded into place after years of chasing your own tail. Stuck on this constant sunshiney state with no way to power down. 

And you were manufactured in some lab, a biological anomaly even he couldn’t wrap his head around. A person who wasn’t whole and yet was so much more than that. You contained multitudes, brought life and colour in ways those others may see a ‘normal’ never could. The pitch of your bark, your hatred - and he meant hatred - of squirrels, how fast you leapt at the opportunity for a ride in the car. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was proud to be the one to bring you home. That he was the one to trace the curves of your hand, to rub your ears, to hold you in his lap while watching late-night tv. This was good for him. This was good for both of you.

Day after day he found himself adoring you in a new way. A week ago he’d have dropped his head in his hands at the sight of you nosing his morning slippers towards his feet in the wee hours of the morning, now he can’t help but smile sleepily. Lopsided and scratchy from his beard. Because despite the energy threatening to burst from your body, you still took the time to sit and wait for him to get up. 

He was a weak man now. A trained government agent was trailing behind his puppy girl in a pet store as you insisted on getting specifically that bunny with those ears cause it looked like the one that ran outside the living room window every day. And he listened to every ramble about said rabbit as you trotted to the cash register, plushie in mouth.

He’d fallen. Hard. 

Time had passed in the blink of an eye before either of you could process it. Seasons blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours, and soon enough Leon found himself with a cuddle buddy more often than he did an empty bed. The feeling of your nose nuzzled into his shirt, strings of happy whimpers and whines mumbled from your sleepy lips, it all became his white noise. You’d made very quick friends with the sprinklers out in the yard by the time summer had rolled around, jumping back and forth over the swinging water in an attempt to catch it in your mouth. All Leon had to do was sit on the porch and watch in adoration.

What you both seemed to adore much less was when Leon left for work. It had you pawing at the windows with screeching nails, teary eyed and howling when he got home extra late. He didn’t have the heart to lock you up when he left, something about it made his chest strain. His poor girl, stuck in her little blanket cave, wondering where her daddy went. Pawing aimlessly at the wired frame, chewing on the gate between whimpers. He couldn’t bear the thought. It ached, in fact. You were hurting his heart without even doing anything.

But the past four days had been a nightmare. His first long term assignment since adopting you. Sure, Claire and Chris had done their best to entertain you since you couldn’t just be left home alone, plenty of toys and games and walks, but it just wasn’t it. You’d pace in little circles, whining and crying and crying and whining. Hours spent drying your tears with cooing and shushing from the Redfield siblings only to burst the pipes and sob some more. It was no use. Until he came back.

And now he had. After so many days (a million, you’d told Claire) without him, he was home. 

The sound of his motorcycle - that he’d retired from everything other than work for obvious reasons, vis-à-vis your sensitive ears - was a dead giveaway, and soon enough you had your cheeks squished up against the front window yapping away till your vocal cords strained. God, wasn’t that a sight. Face lifted into a glowing grin, ear perked up, tail a wagging mess. You looked like a whirlwind had been stuffed down into a body, and you were ready to tear through his home. An oh so dangerous fuzzy tornado on the hunt for endless snuggles and belly rubs to swallow up, up, up into your cyclone of love. 

You were gorgeous. You were adorable. You were everything he didn’t know he needed. He’d hardly stepped foot in the house and you were already jumping up to try and kiss and lick at his face with a thousand puppy kisses, tail wagging so fast you might just take flight. Like one of those cartoon dogs from those 80’s shows, ones Leon still can’t name to this day. That was the other good thing about all of this, you made him laugh. Chuckling hoarsely as he pushed past the door only to be met with your arms wrapped around him excitedly. 

“Daddy, you’re back! You’re home! I missed you!” Yip, yip, bark. You were melting his heart, almost running yourself into the wall at the sheer buzz of excitement thrumming through your body. 

Oh, how he’d missed you, rubbing that tender spot between your ears with a kiss to your hair. 

You’d made him soft. A side of him he never knew existed came out when he got you.

“I missed you too, pup.” He could only shake his head with a tired grin, dropping his bag at the door by the coat rack and shoe cubby. He’d had to buy one since you’d developed the habit of stealing his slippers to use as makeshift mittens. “Be careful where you’re walking there, honey.”

You were too busy babbling away about everything you’d done while he was gone to hear him properly, from playing a gazillion games of fetch to daily trips to the park. How that chipmunk had purposely ticked you off so you pawed at a tree trunk yapping at it for a good 5 minutes. And of course, how you’d almost managed to finally catch your tail. Looking up at him with so much pure puppy love with every step you took backwards through the hallway with a quickly wagging tail. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, you’d just missed him too much. 

That tail of yours though, it was out of control. Swish, swish, wag, sway. Mind of its own. Too happy to have your daddy home to focus on anything else. Pure puppy love. 

During your ramblings as Leon slowly worked at his shoelaces and zipper, all you could do was emphasise how happy you were that Chris had caved and let you visit the cafe downtown. Whilst mid explanation about what a ‘puppuccino’ was and how spectacular it tasted, the sudden smack of your fur against glass had you jumping in surprise. It seemed you’d collided with something in the midst of your excitement. The impact was followed by a loud crack, one that had Leon’s head pulling up to a swift stillness, no longer worried about getting his boots off. 

“What was that?”

There’s a concoction of emotions in his voice. A cocktail of worry, concern, and an off sternness. He’s hardly ever been stern with you. The last time he had been, the sad look on your face had him faltering. Usually he was so comfortable with being stern, it flowed freely through his body like the familiar warmth of whiskey. It was something he was so used to. But he wasn’t used to those glossy eyes tearing up at him. He was just a man, after all. And you were his puppy. 

That thought seemed to elude you both right now though, jolting to step away from the broken picture frame, looking down at the damage you’d done.

“Pup, are you-”

His academy graduation photo. You’d smacked it with your tail, and the frame had snapped.

All the colour drained from Leon’s face in one fell swoop. His calm, tired gaze ripped wide into one of shock, kicking his shoes into the shelves with a harsh thud.

“No- no no, no- shit!” His voice was a boom, it was loud and uncontrollable. Shaking the plaster of the walls with rolling thunder, his eyes zeroed in on the shattered glass, lightning crackling behind stormy blue eyes. Usually they looked so clear. Usually he was clear, his intentions and his love, how he was trying to and learning to get used to this life. And for a while he really was. “Goddamnit!”

And then this happened. 

And it was scary. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it frightened you. A dead giveaway was how your ears flattened against your hair, once wagging tail now dead still and tucked between your legs. You’re cowering. 

You were afraid. 

But Leon didn’t notice. No, this was the end of a short fuse after a long week of work. A flame to the stick of dynamite Leon Scott Kennedy sometimes found himself to be. This was not what he wanted to come home to. He was too busy pulling at his hair in a nostalgic wave of guilt, of horror clawing up his back, staring at the mess.

The mess you’d made.

Cracked fingers pick at the shattered glass in hopes of salvaging what he could, the sharp edges slicing at the flesh that had grown tender with your touch. 

You’d made him soft.

Had that been a mistake?

It must have been with the way he flinched back, cursing under his breath. Shards of the frame bit at his fingers as if in anger, snapping dogs of his past. Not like his pup, not like his sweet girl curled up in the corner, wondering if this meant he hated her.

That wasn’t the worst part.

Right across the top corner of the photo the paper had been scratched, ripped by a stray piece of glass. Slicing through the date he’d graduated. The day he thought everything was going to start getting better way back when. The sight had his whole body frozen in place. Bracing for something to happen, because something always happened to him. The feeling building from his belly to his chest, from his chest to his eyes. It was sickeningly familiar. It was a bullet to Leon’s shoulder. It was the click of a lighter to a cigarette. The screams from an Eastern European church. His bloodied fists against Arias’ face. The mole in his unit.

It was the gunshot that ripped through his family home. 

That’s what really set him off.

“This was the one thing I had from it all, this was it! The one good thing!” Rambling like a mad man, someone you’d watch talk to himself on the sidewalk late into the night. “And it was in such- such good condition. It was perfect. It was all perfect before you- Damn it, pup, why couldn’t you-”

By the time he’d finally turned to you, his words screeched to a halt. Brakes squealing at the velocity of such a hit, a surprise, he could feel his heart overturn. Rolling haphazardly down the highway. He couldn’t stop it, because he caused it. He caused such an accident. So busy running on empty thanks to work that the dried out tank had crushed beneath his feet, crunching steel caving so easily. Weak. You were weak for him. He was just only seeing it now.

He’d hurt your feelings, whether he meant to or not. Over an accident, no less.

He was the reason your body was quaking in fits similar to that of a leaf atop frozen winds. Why your eyes were shot open, glossy and round, like the first cracks in the icy pond at your favourite park making way for water. And you looked like you’d plunged through the surface. 

Maybe the most awful detail of all was the fact that Leon simply didn’t know what to say to make this better.

Licking over his chapped lips, the air in his lungs seemed to dissipate. He was left breathless, and not in the way he usually liked to be. Not like when he watched you pick at the dandelions in the backyard, or when you chased your tail in circles to the point of dizziness. Someone had trapped him in a vacuum of consequences, leaving him to face them. To face you, you and those big puppy-dog eyes threatening to flood with tears. “Look I didn’t- Oh, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like-”

It wasn’t working. His words were getting caught in his throat, pulling a tense cough from his chest. As if the answer was teasingly scratching at his vocal chords and no amount of water could wash it away. He could feel his chest tighten, any trace of anger or frustration being flushed from his system. Now he could think clearly. He could see how heartbroken you were.

The biggest giveaway was how your body leaned in the direction of the living room without thinking, braced on your toes. An instinct dug deep beneath those layers of fuzz and the warmth of your hand in his own. Something to be left untouched, like a toy you’d buried in the backyard, under pile after pile of soil and past traumas. 

Now Leon had dirt on his hands. The clouds in that stormy blue seemed to clear out, the moonlight streaming through the window like a lighthouse reflection. He was seeking you out, trying to let you know it was clear. That you were safe.

It just wasn’t enough.

“Hey.. Hey, no. Honey-

It was no use. He’d blinked and you were gone, left with the echo of your sock-clad footfalls against hardwood floors. Every step beating in unison with his pulse, his ears rang to the rhythm of your rushed breaths. Now you were the one pulling him along on a leash. Tugging at the weak retractable cords of his heartstrings, you’ve wrapped him around a tree once, twice, three times. His head was spinning, a splitting heat sizzling in his frontal lobe frying the edges of his mind until they curled. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, smearing the guilt from cheek to cheek, up to his forehead. He was swimming in that grief. Mourning a time before this one, praying for a reset button. You had such a way of turning him inside out without knowing it, pulling his muscles and bone up from his anatomy to gnaw affectionately on his femur and nip at his biceps. He barely hid anything from you, he never felt the need to. Who were you going to tell? The mosquitos you stalked after with a batting tail in the cooler summer nights? Please. And half the time you didn’t really understand what was going on, anyway. So there was no harm in letting you lay your head in his lap while lounging on the couch, his voice a deep lullaby soothing you to sleep, aimlessly tapping your tail against the cushions. You were so pure. You didn’t mean any harm, you never did. Leon wasn’t sure you had one malicious bone in that cute body of yours. 

How was he supposed to approach this, though? This had been the first major incident in your white-picket-fence-esque lifestyle. Did he go upstairs and change out of clothes dusted in gunpowder and shame? Try with a clean state so you had some time to yourself, some space? Is that what you wanted?

No. No, knowing your usually chipper clingy self that was probably the last thing you wanted. So he manned up, got his shit together. An unusual thing for him to say about himself, but he was in an unusual situation.

After shrugging his leather jacket off and leaving it to hang on the coat rack, he swore to leave his aggression with it. Tucked into the pockets and zipped tight, so he might save it for his next mission. There was no use in bringing shit like that into his home, where his girl was. So he’d let it gather like lint until the next time he washed it, then he’d let his conscience run through a spin cycle; in which he meant watching you do three little spins before settling into bed. You were better than any washing detergent, cleaned his slate better than disinfectant. They should sell your personality in stores, bottle your giggles for junkies to get hits off. You could be the next meth with how happy you made him, had him flying high as a kite.  

And he’d made you so sad. He was your daddy, it was his job to keep you safe, not sad. Now he had to fix that.

Your playpen. It was a puppy’s dream to get the luxuries you did, most likely. Leon couldn’t help but spoil you with everything soft, plush and velvet. It matched you. And watching you lay in front of the window, squeaky toy mid squeal lodged between your jaws lazily, was worth all the money in the world to him. Everything you did drove him nuts, he was starting to realise why so many people suggested getting a hybrid. Leon hadn’t understood what the deal was until you arrived. And now? Oh, he needed a lobotomy at this rate, because all he could think of was you. Work? You. Driving? You. Hell, his breaktime at the office made him miss the way you’d yell ‘Are you doneeeeee?’ at him from down the hall, awaiting your allocated cuddle time. You had him chasing his own tail, and he didn’t even have one.

Draped in a paw-print blanket and stuffed full of toys, the sides of your food and water bowl lovingly chewed on. Always sinking those canines into whatever you could. Well, whatever you could that wasn’t out of the question. Shoes were a big no no, the sprinkler system too, Leon was sure to make that clear. Not like the water tasted any good from it, anyway. 

With a quiet grunt (he really wasn’t getting any younger) he slowly kneeled down, denim brushing over varnished wood, peeking through the open gate of your pen. Despite having both feet on the ground - well, rather two knees - this still felt risky to him. Not like disarming a bomb, more like negotiating a hostage situation. Taking your hand in his own to lead you away from himself.

He kept his voice soft, quiet, as gentle as someone of Leon’s stature and nature could be. Like asking a wolf to hide its fangs, but he did his best.

“Hi there, darlin’.” 

He always did his best with you.

Well, almost always.

No answer. Just the sound of your meek panting, sniffling between breaths. Tears making every inhale salty in your nose and on your tongue. You always preferred it sweeter. He hated being the reason your mouth felt off, watching you run your pink tongue along your cheeks as if trying to get the taste out. At least you were still awake. Amidst the darkness of your cage he could see you buried under a mountain of blankets, digging yourself in like a tick. Head burrowed in tight, he felt like even if he tried to gently coax you out by the body you’d keep shuffling along into the plush. He’d have to stop this from the root, twist and pop you out gently. So he tried that with words. 

“You wanna come out of your little cave there?”

The brief whimper that passed your lips was enough of an answer for him, no words had to be spoken for him to catch on. He sighed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair enough. Daddy was a bit of a dick, huh?”

The slight movement under piles of pink and yellow told him your tail was wagging, and that made his heart hurt even more. It was bleeding through his shirt at this point, darlin’. Don’t do that to him, he’s too old to deal with this kind of pain. Might just kill him one of these days. Because even after he’d snapped at you, broken down the walls of trust you’d both spent months building, you were still reaching out to place a new brick down. To keep it all from crumbling. Leon rested his palms on the scuffed denim of his jeans. Sure, he’d done his schooling, graduated and all that, but now he found himself searching the corners of his mind for the right words. Like he was putting a puzzle together, trying to piece syllable to noun to verb until they clicked. But they didn’t exactly click. Then again, nothing ever did with Leon. 

Except you.

“I didn’t.. Mean what I said. I just cut myself off at the worst time possible. I wasn’t thinking. Da-” he paused himself for a moment. Fuck, it’d become a bad habit. Was it still okay to call himself something like that in this kind of situation? “I’m not very good with words. M’ better with actions, y’know. Making things, helping people. I’m not exactly a wordsmith here, darlin’.” 

There was a rustle. In the darkness of your pillows and blankets you found room to move. And he could tell it was closer to him from how the pile slouched in his direction, indicating the shifting of your body. You looked a bit like a molerat to be honest, an adorable one, or one of those prairie dogs, with the way your head makes an evident dent in the covers. He wouldn’t tell you that, though. Might take it the wrong way. 

Out pops your fluffy ears, the silhouette of your tearful face. His stoic demeanour over the years shatters like that same photo frame, how the hallway’s dim lighting catches in your glossy eyes. It’s like looking at the moon in all her solemn sadness, amongst the stars, alone.

He can’t leave you like that. 

“Hi, baby.” It’s a whisper. He’s too scared if he talks any louder you’ll huddle back up. He never wants to make you worried, or frightened, or anything really. He loves you just the way you are.

“Hi..”

Leon had no idea how much he’d missed that voice until he heard it for the first time after a long lonesome 20 minutes of silence. It’s an icepick to his frozen mind, chipping away those worries he had of you maybe never talking to him again. You were a sweet thing, but also sensitive. It was part of the reason he cared for you so deeply. You’d dug down under his skin, doggy-paddled through his blood stream and settled comfortably right on his heart. 

“..Are you gonna, y’know,” Through the dark haze of shadows and soft rain against the windows, he could see you fiddling with your fingers. You’re nervous. Voice small and isolated, muffled through your soundproofing of comfy blankets and soft stuffies. It only made his head ache more. “Take me back?”

That one threw him off guard. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question, if anything he thought you’d ask if you were still in trouble. “Back? Back where?”

“..The shelter.”

He couldn’t see his own face, but he could just imagine how it twisted in confusion. “What? No, darlin’.” 

“Oh..”

Yeah. Oh. So that’s what all of this had been about. It wasn’t just him yelling, it was the thought that you might get boxed up and shipped back. Kicked to the curb. Leon pictured it again, your shivering frame on the street, or back in that damp kennel surrounded by yelling dogs and strict meal times. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“Cause I broke something, and I was too rowdy.. I can’t sit still..”

The very reason he’d adopted you in the first place was to save you from that life, one of struggle and pain and sadness, yet you still feared it. Solely for, what, acting like a puppy? The very thing you were a hybrid of? If he weren’t so worried about you he’d be pissed at the world in all honesty.

“Baby, is that how you ended up there? Did someone..” He had no time to finish that question before you were nodding. You looked so ashamed, it ripped him in two. Someone had shoved his heart through a paper shredder and used the strips to line a hybrid play-pen floor. 

Returned, handed off, a hand-me-down. That’s what you saw yourself as. Damaged goods. His voice cracked as he muttered softly, his face painted in nothing but sympathy. “Oh, puppy..”

Almost instantly a ball of fluff came barrelling out of the playpen right into Leon’s chest, a winded ‘oof!’ puffed from the man’s ribs. Could’ve cracked them with the force of your love. Softer than any cannon ball, fuzzier than any bullet. Yet you still managed to have him coughing out a chuckle, his nose nuzzling up into your hair. He couldn’t help but breathe out a sigh of relief. Because it was a sure sign that you didn’t hate him.

“There’s my girl.”

A meek whine bubbled up from your throat at the sheer joy of being back in your owner’s embrace, enveloped in his comforting smell. And Leon couldn’t resist resting his chin on your head as you sat crumpled in his lap. A scarred-over hand brushing through your hair, rubbing bruised thumbs over the soft velvet of your ears. Every touch, every loving gesture had your tail whipping against the floorboards. You truly were his good girl. Still sniffling, you tilted your head in that sweet puppy way to look at him properly, taking in the face of the man who you loved more than anything; yes, that included treats, walks, and toys. It was quite the accomplishment, an honour really. Leon should be proud of himself for that one. 

“M’ sorry..”

There it was again, always saying sorry for things you didn’t mean to cause. Sometimes things you didn't even do. He shook his head at even the thought of that. Not scolding, but shushing. Like he didn’t want to hear you apologise for something that was hardly your fault. “Sweetheart, hey. It’s alright. I can always get a new picture frame, it’s no problem. What I can’t get is a new puppy. Wanna know why?”

Of course you did, that was a silly question. But he loved watching your ears flop as you nodded, made his pulse flutter like he had a butterfly in his veins, or a hummingbird. Humming away to the steady thrum picking up in pace. “Cause there’s only one you. And frankly, I’ve already called dibs, so I’m not givin’ you up for anything.”

That seemed to settle something in you, the pace of your tail picking up to its regular happy thump. Large hands encased either side of your head to brush over your fluffy ears, the velvety texture smooth under years of scarred tissue. And that fresh cut he had yet to bandage up. That could be done later, though. Right now he was more focused on plastering a hello-kitty bandaid over your heart. Leon was bad at this stuff, real bad. If there was a class for hybrid owner’s he’d have been expelled in seconds, set a new world record. Because even after having you with him for months he had to admit, he still had no idea what he was doing. He wanted to make that clear, no point in lying to you.

Gravelly voice turned smooth and soft, someone had put his whiskey rocks through a blender. He was a slushy now because of you. A messy, overpriced, alcoholic slushy. 

 “But I wanna try my hardest to make you feel loved here. Because believe me, you are. You and all your.. Energy, let’s say. You’re my fluff ball, aren’t ya?”

He doesn’t need words, words aren’t a strong suit for either of you. So he settled for the affectionate lick to the cheek you gave him, followed by your high pitched whine when you snuggled down into his lap with wiggling hips. Makes a huff of laughter rumble from his chest, not like the thunderous yelling you once heard. This was that of a car’s slow movement, of white noise to sleep.

Because at the end of the day you were each other’s peace. 

Lips press to your hair in a gentle manner, and Leon found himself nuzzling his nose down against your own.

 “Yeah you are. You’re daddy’s best girl.”

It’s a balm for the wounds on your soul, settling into his arms like you were made for them. Manufactured with his name printed across your heart where no-one could see it, you’d just had to find him. And now you had, and he had no intention of letting you go. If he could, he’d velcro you to his body.  

Yeah, Leon swore he’d never let you go.

And he might be a bastard at times, but he made good on his promises.

The next week you were walking past the hall of photos, the one Leon commissioned of you and him out in the backyard was already hung. The outtakes of you sprinting off to chase a squirrel mid-shutter are his to keep tucked in his wallet, though. For the longer work days or boring lines at the DMV, all that shit. 

 But the formal one, the proper one, is right above the new frame you insisted on decorating for his graduation photo. Complete with smiley stickers and paint and hearts he’d carefully exacto-knifed around to give a clear view of his picture. You’d jumped around like a bouncy ball when he was cutting the excess sticky paper away, little yaps of ‘Is it done?! Is it finished?! Can I see it?!’ like you hadn’t been the one to seal it in glitter glue in the first place. 

And honestly, he loved it. Like you were leaving your pawprints on his past, making a new path of swaying tails and giggling fits to lead him with a tugging leash into his brighter future. Like you were meeting an older version of him. One before he became a little more bruised, a little more cold. But you’d helped chip that down with your tugging paws and cute canines.

He was softer now. And he’d decided yes, that was a good thing. Meant he was more suited for you, more tender with you. 

“C’mon, babygirl. Wanna go for a walk?” He already knows the answer. But watching you skitter on your feet to sprint towards him never gets old. Wagging tail and voice chirping.

“Can we get a pup cup on the way back? Please?”

Because if that freshly appointed rookie cop version of Leon could meet you, he’d be just as in love with you as he is right now. 

“Aw I’m not made of stone now, am I sweetheart?”

And he’d agree, that new frame looks much better.

Consider buying me boba!

[bluemoonsunrise]

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :P

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter one

— assholes and arrows —

it was hard to imagine that you were 4.37 light years away from earth.

what the hell even was 4.37 light years? obviously, you knew you couldn’t throw a rock and hit earth, but it was still mind boggling that it took long enough that they had frozen you whole so that you wouldn’t die in the amount of time it took you to get to where you were going. had your sister known just how far away she would’ve been had it been her in that cryo-capsule?

of course, she did.

she was the scientist who knew how far a light year was.

she was the scientist that had devoted the last years of her life to the avatar program without knowing it.

god was cruel— but people were even crueler.

at your sisters funeral, you had not expected two men-in-black characters to approach you. you had expected to leave the service with your sisters ashes in an urn but not that and a brochure of pandora and the program on it.

the program that now needed you to pick up where she left off.

were you supposed to say no? it was too late for that now. you were 4.37 light years from home. the only thing you could do was get off the aircraft and try your best to be even a teaspoon as smart as your sister.

as soon as you stepped out of the aircraft, you were a fish out of water. soldiers in massive metal suits walked the runways carrying giant guns. AMP suits, as they were called. machines the size of buildings were shot with arrows and needed repairs. the RDA extraction facility — lovingly nicknamed hell’s gate — was brutalist. the massive colony was an eyesore, churning out dark gray smoke into the pretty blue sky.

surely, the men in charge would happily rot this place into nothing, too.

it took three days to figure out your way around. around the colony. around the avatar labs. around the social hierarchy that the people living here had factioned themselves into.

it took three days to feel comfortable. to feel comfortable in your link-pod. in your avatar body. in your crew consisting of one grumpy, cigarette-dependent scientist, a goody-two shoes scholar, and an paralyzed man with a big mouth.

once grace augustine stopped bitching about how she got stuck with two dead scientist’s twins, things started to seem alright— because if there was any relief in hell’s gate, it was jake sully.

jake was the universes way of apologizing to you for all the shit you had to go through to get where you were. native language exposure, protocol training, avatar study, and a program explanation all in one month before they stuck you in a box and express shipped you to the blue moon.

it had wrecked your brain. all the studying and the work and the cramming wrecked your brain entirely. you felt like mush after they had unfroze you because you felt like mush when they had frozen you.

at least you got training, though. poor jake was picked up a week before the ship left.

the only training jake had was military. he was a marine. despite being wheelchair bound now, you his tactical skill was of value when in his avatar. he was the happiest out of the whole crew to have been gifted one of those big blue bodies. his legs worked again.

jake opened up briefly about how he got injured during his deployment years back and hadn’t done much since. in his avatar, jake could never stay still. in his real body, it was still hard to keep still. while jake could do poppa-wheelies and drift around hallway corners in his wheelchair, fire a gun with alarming accuracy, and had the mental fortitude of a nuclear war bunker— he was going into this thing virtually blind and deaf.

because poor jake had lost his twin, too.

tommy had been shot.

bang.

gone just like that. days before his big trip, too. wrong place at the wrong time is what jake had said. all tommy’s life’s work was gone just as fast as your sisters was— even though cancer killed her slowly.

in the end, it didn’t matter.

all it takes is one second to die.

all it takes is one second to make the biggest damn mistake of your life and almost get eaten alive by a leathery, nightmare-inducing, panther-looking thing on your first ground excursion.

grace had prepared you for taking samples. she taught you how to use the log device and the tablets. she went over how to input data and file in her research. what she hadn’t prepared you for was the off chance that a monster larger than a car leapt out from the bushes and chose you as it’s afternoon snack.

and that off chance chose you today like god had chosen mary.

“oh shit! oh fuck!” you gasped as you ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

it was not very fast.

avatar bodies were a work of scientific genius— but no one cared to think about how much training the body would need to be able to perform well.

a shrieking roar told you that the monster was still behind you.

that and it’s thundering paws hitting the ground as it chased after you.

this was karma.

it was karma for enjoying animal planet reruns on the shit-box tv in your apartment. you would sit on your couch with a bowl of over-done popcorn drenched in salty butter in your lap while you watched lions chase gazelles.

at least the gazelles were fast.

why the fuck weren’t you fast!

your throat burned alongside your lungs. you couldn’t breathe. your vision tunneled. your legs ached. you could hear your heart in your ears. sweat poured out of you like bullets.

“run!” grace had shouted.

jake had unloaded a whole clip firing at the panther-like beast— but the damn thing had dodged and ducked behind trees.

that’s why it chased you.

because it had seen you cowering behind a tree.

one stupid mistake.

one stupid second.

claws swiped at your backpack and it sent you toppling over. teeth dug into the pack and with one violent shake, you flew up into the air.

you hit the ground hard. all the air gasped out of you. your ears rang. but you had time. the beast tore your pack to shred and you didn’t stick around to see it realize that backpack à la carte wasn’t tasty.

“oh jesus!”

swinging your arms like a mad man, you steadied yourself at the cliffside. a raging, rushing waterfall hammered into a river below. far below.

a feral snarl sent you whipping around.

backpack was not tasty, it seemed.

the pandoran-panther leapt into a sprint.

and you leapt off the cliff.

the water below felt like a wall. croosh! bubbling, swirling rapids rushed around you. it clogged your nose and burned. you struggled to kick your feet in the current.

swimming was a luxury on earth. what water was clean enough and who had money to go to a pool? only the ultra-rich liked pools. poor people liked old tv specials like animal planet.

instinct and the sway of the current helped you surface. you gasped like a baby taking their first breath. coughing out the water in your mouth, you fought hard to stay above the water. with your arms extended, you caught hold of rocks. you used all the strength your avatar body had and you hauled yourself up onto the rock.

all you could do was breathe.

in and out. fast and deep. over and over again. in and out. in and out. all that mattered was air even when the beast above snarled and screeched at you from the cliffside.

“fuck…you…” you panted.

while you could’ve passed out from exhaustion there, you couldn’t. you forced yourself onto your feet and leapt from the rock to the riverbed. you fell face-first into the mud. it didn’t matter.

nothing mattered but staying alive.

if the avatar died, you’d be shipped to an RDA labor prison to pay back the billion dollars it costed as best you could before you died.

keep moving, you told yourself. if you moved, you lived. movement is life. an actor named brad pitt had said that in an old zombie movie your dad had once showed you.

movement is life.

that became your mantra.

it was funny. running through the forest for you life, it was just funny that with all the money the RDA pumped into mining and space travel, no one could equip the avatar drivers with GPSs?

irony.

irony and karma.

the fear didn’t kick back into you and rattle your bones until the sun began to set. you tried to find shelter as fast as you could. all you had on you was a knife and a flashlight at your hip. the panther had taken your backpack and tore through it like it was clocked into their shift working for the TSA.

the TSA used to at least give your bag back to you.

you’d be getting no such treatment because you had no such luck in a place like this.

a place like pandora.

it was gorgeous. during the day, pandora was utterly jaw-dropping. at night— you didn’t want to know.

whether it was beautiful or not, it wouldn’t matter. it was horrifying. it nearly brought tears to your eyes as you stumbled through the forest with only your flashlight to guide you.

twigs snapped in every direction. a pack of cackling creatures ran through midnight brush. insects whirred and buzzed. massive leafs rustled in the breeze.

every noise made you jump.

every noise made you grip your knife tighter.

hurrying through the dark, you made more noise than you realized. ragged breaths. rustling clothes. loud footsteps. you may as well have been calling out for any dangerous creature to come and eat you whole.

when you exhausted yourself, you finally stopped.

in a clearing between massive trees, you fought to catch your breath. while standing in the open may have been stupid, at least you could see what sprung out at you first. whether or not you could fight it off was something you would deal with if it happened. for now, you breathed.

you clicked off your flashlight and you breathed.

lowering to a crouch to rest, you kept quiet and you kept vigilant. your breath soon returned. you knew to keep calm. while the anxiety you felt now was primal, it was still just anxiety. with each breath, you focused your mind.

you needed a plan.

you couldn’t keep running in the dark. you had to find somewhere to hide until morning. a cave. up in the trees. somewhere. somewhere away from danger.

the forest was glowing.

it was only once your heart had calmed and air actually got the chance to reach your brain that you realized the forest around you was glowing.

you felt your tail flick as amazement bubbled up inside you. you turned to look at it. you forgot you that the spindly blue thing. it fascinated you almost as much as your braid did.

at its core, this whole thing amazed you.

standing in an avatar body of a navi in the bioluminescent forest of pandora was amazing. while part of you had felt guilt leaving earth— pandora was a wonder you would choose again and again.

you got to your feet and admired the way the grass lit up as you took small steps. you smiled as glowing bugs buzzed by. the more you looked around, the more their was to see. truly. with your flashlight off, the forest lit itself. wonders of all kinds became visible.

a soft laugh escaped you as something white floated around your head. it reminded you of a jellyfish. a small, luminescent jellyfish. you spun as it circled you. your tail flicked and your ears perked as the fascinating little thing seemed to interact with you.

all the fear you felt was gone— but unbeknownst to you, you were in the most danger of your life.

in the tree above you, an arrow was begging to fly free from his bow and strike you through the chest.

as the small jellyfish creature landed in your hand, the sun would’ve felt ashamed to not be as bright as your smile if it were up.

the moment lasted only a few seconds. the floating creature hovered over your hand only for a fleeting moment before it moved up and up and up into the air.

you followed it with your eyes.

your little jellyfish friend was not the only thing you saw.

you could see his gleaming, glaring yellow eyes.

you could see the massive silhouette of his body.

you could see his bow that he held half-drawn.

all the shock you felt seeing his blue shadow in the night was nothing compared to the pack of wolf-like monsters that sprang from the dark and attacked.

teeth and claws ripped at your legs. taking out your ankles first, the pack of monsters knew how to hunt. when you fell, one of the large ones leapt at you. your hands shot out to catch the ugly mutt and protect yourself anyway that you could.

an arrow shot through its head and blood splattered across your face.

a gasp escaped you as the blue shadow jumped from the tree above and sprang into action. arrows flew as fast as bullets. one. two. three dead before you could even fumble for your knife.

a knife was nothing compared to him.

he alone with his teeth bared scared off the pack of horrifying wolves.

you could hardly breathe.

in utter silence, you watched as the Navi male retrieved his arrows. he was mumbling to himself. soft hisses escaped him as he pulled each arrow free from the kills he had made.

“thank you…” you whispered. tried to. you could hardly hear your own voice.

the beads in his hair clicked as he moved. he did not look at you. he didn’t have to. the scowl on his face sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine.

like a newborn deer, you tried to stand. the pain in your legs made you wince. again, you tried to get up but the pain only worsened.

a hiss sent you rigid.

you didn’t have to look up at him. he was crouched beside you with no taste for personal space. he grabbed your legs and tore the fabric around your knees off. you opened your mouth to shout at him but his scowl shut you up.

if he was going to kill you, he would’ve.

if he was going to hurt you, he would’ve.

he was checking your injuries.

“it’s bad, huh?” you asked in a whisper, “it’s really bad, isn’t it?”

he said noting.

all he did was prod at the wounds with his large, calloused finger.

“hey!” you kicked him lightly. “that hurts!”

he grabbed you by the bend of your knee and shoved. your head hit the ground hard as you fell back. tears wet your eyes on reflex. a soft groan escaped you. anger boiled in your blood. you pushed yourself up on your elbows intent on cursing him out.

you stopped as he wrapped your wounds in the fabric he ripped off your pants.

you grit your teeth and kept quiet. it hurt like a bitch. the rough, gritty fabric was unkind to your wounds. despite his never-ending scowl, he was gentle.

“thank you…” you whispered for the second time. this time he heard you.

“do not thank.” he hissed, his voice a deep, sharp slash in the space between you. “you should not thank for this. this is not good. this is sad.”

“i— i’m sorry?” you offered, just wanting him to know that you appreciated his kindness.

he only scowled at you.

when he stood, panic rushed through you. before your mind to race to any awful thoughts about how he may abandon you now, he extended his hands.

you hesitated.

he huffed out of his nose and curled his lip.

you reached for him instantly.

“ah— fuck…” you muttered as you stood. it was an awful stinging pain. it shot up your legs as you put your weight on them.

“very painful?”

you looked up at him as he placed his hand on your waist to support some of your weight.

tall.

so, so tall. a head and a half taller than you. it almost had you tongue tied. all you could do was nod. for a stupid, dumbfounded moment, you nodded like a idiot.

by the look in his eyes, he seemed to think you were exactly that.

the male grumbled. under his breath, he seemed to curse. your brows drew together as he turned around and crouched down. you stood still. your ears pinned back and you tilted your head. his tail began to flick. sharp and fast.

you had a cat once.

cats flicked their tails like that when they grew angry.

he reached back, grabbed your arm, and gave it a harsh tug. a gasp escaped you as you bumped into his back. the realization dawned on you when he brought your hand over his shoulder to his chest.

he would carry you.

carefully, you hooked your arms around him. with a fluidity that stunned you, he rose to his feet. you weighed nothing to him. even as a massive navi avatar yourself, you weighed nothing. his hands curled around your thighs and he hoisted you up higher on his back. you clung close and kept your head tucked toward his shoulder to try and keep his arrows from smacking you in the face.

“thank you— sorry.” you cringed. “sorry. not thank you. im sorry.”

for a moment it was silent as he walked.

“you are welcome.”

something tickled your belly at his response.

your heart was sprinting without you having to run from his acknowledgment alone. your head spun as it tried to keep up with all that had happened. he had leapt from the trees and saved you with no hesitation. he had tended to your wounds. he carried you to safety.

you couldn’t pull your eyes off his face.

his features were sharp. he had a sharp jaw. he had sharp ears. his flat nose was pointed down at the end, still making it sharp. his eyes were sharp. his lips. his teeth. his voice.

everything.

he was like a dagger.

heat rose to your face as he turned his head to meet your gaze. for the first time, he did not scowl. not at first. for a moment too fleeting, he was cat-like. he seemed to look at you just as closely as you looked at him. his pupils dilated and his ears perked— but his face soon became a disgruntled scowl as you stared at him too long and he jostled you as a warning.

you looked away. “what is your name?”

“tsu’tey,” he said after a moment of debating whether or not to answer.

“tsu’tey.” you repeated. it was fun to say. it made you smile. “my name is eris.”

“okay.”

his blunt, simple reply made you laugh. his ears pinned at the sound and he turned his head to look at you. he seemed bewildered by the fact that you laughed. embarrassment made your ears ring.

“uh…so…how old are you?” you asked, trying to keep the awkward tension at bay.

“cannot answer. don’t know how to say it like you.” he said with a small shake of his head.

you bit your lip. you were going to humiliate yourself but you may as well try.

“age?” you asked in navi.

tsu’tey looked back at you. a smile curled across his lips that disarmed you entirely. “i am twenty-five.”

“twenty-five? that’s cool. i— i’m also that. twenty-five, too. we’re the same age. that’s so…cool.” you stammered, at a loss for coherent words.

his smile dropped entirely and he shifted you on his back.

you had never wanted to die more.

“you must be getting ill from their claws. fever is common. we must get to the tsahik quickly.” tsu’tey said with a single nod of his head.

of course, yes.

your state of bumbling idiocy came from wounds— not that fact that a giant blue man had saved you and now carried you to safety on his back. it was a fever that made you hot, not the way his fingers felt around your thighs or the way his skin felt like velvet under your fingertips.

maybe you were having a stroke, too.

burning toast?

no, that was just the earthy, spicy scent of him that made your mouth water.

it wasn’t until he put you down that you had any idea of where you were. there was only one place you could be. you had read about it in the prep books that had once belonged to your sister.

the tree was larger than life.

hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air, home tree towered the way colossus of rhodes could’ve only dreamed to.

you hissed under your breath as the weight on your wounds sent sharp pain through your legs. as you looked up at him, you realized there had been softness to his sharp features this whole time.

that softness was gone.

a startled yelp escaped you as he grabbed you by the end of your braid and pushed you forward.

“ow! hey!”

his voice was lethal. “walk, demon.”

with him guiding your every move, you walked. your face burned as you entered home tree. hundreds of navi turned and gasped. they chirped, calling out to inform others there was an intruder in their home. soon, the inhabitants were all too close trying to catch a glimpse of you.

tsu’tey hissed as hands stuck out to touch you. he barked orders in navi that were lost to your ears. so much was. hundreds of voices spoke at once. the chattering was deafening— and so was the sound of your racing heart as tsu’tey brought you in front of the chief.

your mind blanked on the navi title he held — as it had blanked on every word — but you knew who the male decorated in feathers and beads was. his large bow was hooked around his back. his old, sunken face was a masterpiece of stoicism.

beside him with her tail flicking was none other than the tsahik you were here to see.

tsu’tey let you go but he did not go far. not far at all. his hand curled around the hilt of his knife. if the order was given to kill you— it would be him who snuffed the life from your lungs.

you felt like you had been dropped into the middle of the ocean. you were fighting to stay steady. the pain in your legs had you wobbling. the conversation you found yourself in the middle of was lost to you ears. you could only pick out a few words.

kill her?

a question from the chief.

no.

an answer from tsu’tey.

eywa has given a sign.

your head snapped as those words left his lips. you looked up at him, your ears perking. as he met your eyes, his ears pinned back.

you understood. how much he didn’t know, but you understood. you knew more than he imagined you could’ve.

“you are injured.”

you turned your head as the tsahik approached you.

with a slow nod, you signed ‘i see you.’

a collective gasp was one that even tsu’tey shared in.

the tsahik’s tail swayed and she looked back at the chief. he had an expression you found hard to read. without another word, the tsahik grabbed your arm and guided you along. you swallowed your whimpers as you kept up with her long stride.

these people and their grabbing…

you glanced back over your shoulder to see tsu’tey let go of his knife and kneel before his chief.

“sit.” the tsahik demanded as you entered her hut.

slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. the hut was full of herbs, oils, and hanging flowers. a small fire burned in the center of the room. around it, mats lay in a circle. a small wooden table is where she stopped. she gathered medicines and supplies.

“what attacked you?” the tsahik asked.

“uh…i— i’m not sure.” you said with a shake of your head.

“describe.”

you swallowed thickly. closing your eyes, you tried to conjure any glimpse you could remember. “they…they were like dogs. six legs. black teeth. growling and cackling like hyenas. there was a pack of them.”

how the hell would she know what a dog was let alone a hyena?

idiot.

“nantang,” the tsahik said as she turned. she kneeled in front of you and seemed to smile with her ears, as if she found this amusing. “sky people like you named them viperwolves.”

“nantang…” you repeated softly. you’d surely remember that word.

“how did tsu’tey find you?” the tsahik asked as she unwrapped the makeshift bandages from your legs.

you grit your teeth as the air stung your wounds. you tried to sit still. “i was with my group. the other avatar drivers? we were out in the forest doing research with dr. augustine. grace. do you know her?”

the tsahik nodded once. she stuck her fingers into a jar of greasy ointment and began to lather it on your wounds. a soft grunt escaped you at the sting.

“i got separated,” you said through your teeth. you focused on telling your story. it distracted you from the pain. “there was this huge fucking thing that attacked. massive. all black. had these face-flap things that look like this.”

you tried your best to mimic what it had looked like with your hands and the tsahik stared at you with wide eyes.

you dropped your hands and fought the urge to strangle yourself as embarrassment churned in your gut.

“palulukan.” the tsahik said. she wrapped your legs in leafs and tied them with long grass-line twine. “i do not know what your people have called it, but it is very dangerous.”

“yeah,” you said with a small nod. “palulu…yeah, it was that thing. it chased me. i had to jump off a waterfall and i got lost. he found me in the forest playing with um…”

“it was small,” you raised your hands to show the size of the tiny thing. you traced your palm. “it could fit here. so small. it was white. it looked…like a jellyfish.”

the tsahik stopped.

she looked at you.

with blown pupils, she looked at you.

“atokirina…” she murmured.

your brows furrowed. “ato-what-now?”

the tsahik stood suddenly. she placed her hand on your head before she left her hut. you sat in silence. your ears pinned back and your tail swayed across the woven mat.

had she just patted your head?

maybe you weren’t as doomed as you thought you were.

alone in the warm hunt, staying awake began to get hard. it smelled like heavenly incense. the stinging in your wounds disappeared into a cool clam. the fire warmed what the icy river and night air had chilled.

if it weren’t for the urgency to know this body would be safe and the hunger that rumbled in your belly, you had every intention of falling asleep. not only was the body tired but you were tired.

how you could you not be with all that had happened?

not just today.

with everything.

her face was like a bruise on your soul that you hated to see even in your mind. looking at your own face in the mirror was just as hard because it looked like hers.

would your sister have been able to survive the palulukan? would she have had the guts to jump off the cliff? how the hell had you even had the guts to do that? on earth, you worked a shit job servicing food at a drive-and-dine and spent your nights watching old tv cartoons. where the hell had all your courage come from?

looking back; though, you’d always had some courage.

your sister had none.

and she would’ve been eaten alive.

guilt burned in your stomach as that thought resonated in your mind. you pushed it away as best you could. you pushed it all away. none of it mattered now. nothing about earth and your old life mattered. there was only here and now.

just as your eyes drooped shut, the beaded curtain pulled apart. you turned your head to find not only the tsahik but tsu’tey. him and his awful scowl.

“get up, demon. you come with me. it is decided.” tsu’tey said gruffly. he reached for your arm.

“what?” you asked, shaking your head.

“eywa has given us a sign, dreamwalker.” the tsahik said as she crouched to your level. she pulled a thorn from her chest piece and stuck your arm with it. she licked off the blood and smiled. “you are to stay here where we can keep our eyes on you.”

you rubbed at the small hurt on your arm. looking between the two of them, all you could do was nod. you wouldn’t pass up their hospitality. especially not if you knew the body would be safe here.

“tsu’tey himself saw the atokirina bless you. you are his student now. he shall teach you our ways.” the tsahik said. “it is decided.”

you looked up at him.

he scowled at the fire.

how fun…

“alright,” you said as you tried to heave yourself up. your body weighed a thousand pounds and your legs ached still, but you could move a bit easier. “it is decided then…”

tsu’tey shot the tsahik an annoyed expression but she only waved her hand. he huffed under his breath and grabbed you by the arm. he tugged you out of the hut.

“hey, man, c’mon!” you said, pulling your arm from his grasp. you glared up at him. “stop pulling me around. i can walk just fine.”

he only stared down at you. his tail swayed behind him and his ears perked. you could’ve sworn that you saw his lip curl into a smirk.

he turned and walked off.

fast.

“hey!”

you nearly had to jog to keep up with him. when you caught up to his side, he was smirking. this was a punishment. what an asshole!

“you are slow.” tsu’tey said without looking at you. his voice was always so sharp. his accent was thick and it made your ears tingle. “you are weak.”

“climb.” he said, flicking his head towards the center column of home tree. a spiraling, colossal root that acted as a staircase.

you grit your teeth. you hated heights but you hated that smug look on his face even more. you began to climb. he followed behind you. he watched you like a hawk. while his cold, challenging demeanor was as rough as sandpaper— his attentiveness was so sweet it could’ve rot away all your teeth.

he grasped your waist as you slipped. steading you on your feet, he kept you in place. you looked back at him. his hairless browns seemed to raise. it was like he was saying, ‘careful, demon.’

you brushed off his hand and continued on. you had no idea how far he was expecting you to go. you refused to look down. your breath was jagged in your throat and you had never felt more tired. just as your muscles couldn’t take anymore, he tugged your arm. together, you walked along a thick branch as wide as a runway. you followed him into a hanging hut.

it was small. three baskets by one wall. a woven mat across the floor. a bed of furs. small holes in the ceiling to let strands of light in. it was cozy. it smelled of him. you liked it.

“remove those clothes.” he said as he crouched over one of the baskets. he dug through it.

you eyes widened. “excuse me?”

he looked back at you. “remove. the. clothes.” he said again. this time, as if your were an idiot.

when he stood, he held a garment made of beads and a long loincloth similar to his own. standing before him now, you realized just how much of him you could see.

he was broad. impeccably so. his long limbs were slim and his frame was slender but he had muscle. you knew he did. you felt it as he grasped you and carried you through the forest.

bands decorated his arms. a woven leather corset was snug around his ribs. it probably was meant for something tactical but to you it looked like a corset. his waist was small. his legs were long and powerful. around his neck was a collar-like necklace made of hundreds of beads.

his blue skin held the most interesting stripes. his tail was long. a lot longer than yours. it flicked impatiently. his hair was braided back, except for a few pieces with red breads hung by his face. the long braid of his queue flowed down his back. in the dim light of his hut, his freckles glowed.

“now, demon.” he demanded again, throwing the garments at you.

“turn around.” you said, jutting your chin at him.

he narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “what?”

“turn.” you said, gesturing the action with your finger.

he scoffed.

“have you no sense of privacy?” you asked with a scowl that seemed to amuse him.

“privacy. human word. meaningless to me.” tsu’tey spat as he passed by you. he made sure to hit you with his shoulder as he exited his hut.

“savage…” you muttered under your breath.

as you undressed yourself, you could hear him pacing outside. he must be paranoid. did he think you would stab him in the back if he turned? wouldn’t you have done that in the forest?

or maybe privacy really wasn’t a thing to him— to any of the navi. less so than humans, at the very least. they did only cover their gentiles with loincloths and breasts with beaded tops. they showed far more skin than the average human did.

dressed in such a thing now, you felt entirely out of your comfort zone. the string of the loincloth rode up your ass. you had to adjust it for it to feel comfortable. the beaded top you wore hid your perky blue nipples, but not much else. while navi breasts were small, your chest wasn’t flat. the human dna used to create the avatar gave the body extra features.

five fingers. hairy eyebrows. the queues extending out from the nape of the neck and not the top of the head. the male avatars had more muscle. they were bulkier than navi-born males. the female avatars were aerodynamic and slim like navi-born females, but their chests weren’t as flat. compared to your real body, the boobs on your avatar were nothing. but the boobs compared to the populaces normal, it was definitely something more.

as you exited his hut, tsu’tey turned. the cold, harsh scowl he wore faltered. you felt something warm tingle in your stomach as his eyes mapped the whole of you. his pupils dilated and his ears perked up as his eyes landed on your chest.

you swatted at him— or tried to.

he caught your wrist and tugged you along. you did not protest. protesting with him did you no good. that was something you learned quick.

“tomorrow, i teach you how to ride.” tsu’tey said as he led you back down the main column of home tree.

going down was much scarier than going up. you gripped his hand and stared at the back of his head the whole time. while he was tense, he did not pull his hand from yours.

“ride what?” you dared to ask. your heart was in your throat.

“pa’li.” tsu’tey said. he glanced over his shoulder. “you call them…horse.”

a horse? that should be easy enough. you used to watch old western specials as a kid. nothing too terrifying about a horse, right?

instead of walking back down to the ground level, you entered a large hollow section of the tree. hundreds of navi gathered. sitting down all together, you realized they were eating.

you could’ve cried. thank you, lord! your stomach felt hollow with hunger for the last hour.

“sit.” tsu’tey said, pushing at your shoulder.

you sat. the navi beside you seemed to shy away. you looked up at tsu’tey but he was gone. he was off to the side gathering food off a long wooden table. when he returned, he handed you the leaf piled with meats, berries and nuts without a word.

you ate in silence across from him. he sat with the tsahik and the chief— the olo’eyktan. you remembered the word. beside them, a strikingly beautiful navi woman. she ate without lifting her gaze.

as her ears pinned back, you knew she could feel you staring. you were quick to look down at your food.

it tasted better than anything you ever had before and you ate with haste. the pain in your stomach ceased and you ate your fill. it was rude not to clean your plate. you made sure to eat every last bite.

when you finished, you looked up to see tsu’tey watching. your ears perked as he flicked his head. you followed his gaze to the long table full of food. it took you a second but you realized he was asking you if you were still hungry.

meeting his gaze, you shook your head no.

he nodded once.

the clan ate all together— and they slept at the same time, too. filing up through the main column, people separated into their designated beds. hundreds of hanging hammocks and nests filled the space between the internal branches. single navi slept alone. pairs slept with each other. families shared nest-like hammocks.

“come,” tsu’tey said, guiding you onward.

as you followed him, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes deadlocked onto the back of your head. looking over your shoulder, you saw her again. the female navi. she climbed down into her own hanging hut and disappeared. when she was gone, that’s when you remembered tsu’tey was an impatient jackass who would yank your arm if you didn’t pay attention.

he nearly did but you reacted just in time.

“what’s her name?” you asked. you flicked your head in the direction of her but.

tsu’tey followed your gaze. his shoulders stiffened and his lips twitched. not a smile. a frown. “that is neytiri. daughter of olo’eyktan and tsahik.”

“this is yours.” he said with a lazy point towards a hanging hammock. it was nearby his hut. a branch below. “you sleep now. tomorrow is going to be long.”

“aye-aye, captain.” you said with a salute.

tsu’tey narrowed his eyes as a puzzled expression took over his face. you swallowed hard. slowly, you signed to him.

‘i see you’.

he only huffed out a small goodbye. you watched as he climbed his way to his own hut. he did not look back at you. he disappeared inside and the flap shut.

you sighed and carefully slipped your way into your hammock. it was comfier than you thought it would be. warmer, too. the warm air and soft breeze made it easy to feel drowsy as you laid down. the gentle sway of the hammock made your eyes heavy.

it felt like you had fallen asleep. black muddled behind your eyelids before bright, tunneling white.

all you could see was white.

there was a loud, incessant ringing in your ears.

“c’mon, kid, wake up.”

the white blinding light began to morph into shapes. into colors. into people. a ginger haired scientist. she moved her flashlight in and out of your face, patting your cheek.

“hey,” grace said, her voice coming in clear. “snap out of it.”

sense rushed back into your brain as she snapped her fingers beside your ear. your eyes widened and a gasped cleaved it’s way out of your chest. the whirr of the machine purred in your ear. the bright lights of the room were harsh after the gentle luminance of the pandoran forest.

“are you okay?” grace asked, pushing your hair behind your ears. it was the kindest she’d ever been. “how are you feeling? is the avatar safe?”

“i— i am. i’m good…” you said. your voice was hardly a whisper. your breath came hard and fast. even then, a smile curled onto your lips. “doc, you’re gonna do backflips when you find out where i am.”

[thanks for reading :3 this is a lot of fun to write and i have a lot planned <3 tsu’tey is an underappreciated king and a slow burn romance fic is exactly what the world needs i fear :) see ya next chapter! —moony]

next chapter >

[withered--s0uls]

Vat7k random headcanons.

Varian:

Trans FtM (tho I enjoy MtF Var too :3)

Bisexual (was intended canon in vat7k)

When originally not trusting Hugo, he makes it painfully obvious to him in the way he acts around him vs around Yong and Nuru

Writes NewDream & his Dad letters :3 probably whenever arriving in & leaving a new Kingdom!

I prefer the vest design so uh; I hc the reason he has 2 hairstripes now is a result of the S3 finale. I hc his canon hairstripe is from the fact his dad was hit by a blast of the moonstone. The 2nd one is a "scar" from dying and being revived in the S3 finale (I imagine Eugene has a similar "scar" in a blonde strand of hair from the movie. Also Cass and Raps each having ones in their respective colours bc of being past users. Also yes this implies the entirety of ppl who helped in the S3 finale has blonde/gold and/or turquoise/blue "scars" from the S3 finale somewhere in their hair or on their body)

Alchemist and engineer rivalry with Hugo bc Hugo likes to be a smartass

Hugo is his first proper masc crush, he doesn't really count his celebrity crush on Eugene he had as a kid

I hc his surname to be VanGuard (inspired by "His Little Light" on AO3)

Slavic from his dads side (not sure what specific country I hc the DK as but I like the idea of it being slavic)

Hugo:

Genderfluid (amab if anyone cares)

Pansexual

Never actually had like time for proper romance due to his work, so he doesn't actually know how to deal with catching feelings for Varian and Var seemingly reciprocating them (its different to actually love someone opposed to pretending for a job)

Actually really good with kids! This shows in him actually helping care for Yong a lot (he sneaks a Flynn Rider book from Varians bag and reads it to Yong as bedtime story lol)

Probably met Eugene and possibly Lance in their criminal pasts

Having beef with Nuru bc oh no royalty and royals suck (he doesn't understand how Varian can be best friends with a princess [Raps] either) at the start but learns through her that some aren't just stuck up selfish assholes

Teasingly tries to one-up Varians alchemy

Post-vat7k he stays in Corona with Var! First working as his assistant until being offered the role of royal advisor (bc fuck Nigel)

Not a hc bc it is his original DND surname, but personally I go with the surname Rottewange for him (seen some ppl use different ones)

Russian (ah yes the common "Ingvarr is Russia" hc)

Yong:

Probably not the best relationship with his family considering they just sent him off with some stranger from another kingdom

Basically the collective little brother of the group

Hugo jokingly calls him Varians kid after finding out his clumsiness and exploding projects are something Var used to experience too

Gets along well with everyone in the squad yay

He really likes Ruddiger too, getting all excited when seeing him for the first time (I imagine he loves animals :3)

Him and Nuru definitely catch on the fact Varigo both crush on each other way before the two actually admit it themselves

To make him more relatable to Varian, I also imagine him being a Farmboy too

Kinda canon bc it seems to be his clothing inspo + some concept art aspects but; Chinese

Nuru:

Lesbian or at least Sapphic, kinda realizes that when they meet Vars cousins (if you read "Varians Tangled Trials" yk why lol. Nuru and Amber my beloved.)

Huge mistrust towards Hugo

Yong and her often pacify the situation if Varigo alchemist rivalry goes a bit too far

NOT the mom of the group. She's a kid lol. (Hugo and Varian being the only adults and actually having to take responsibility for the two minors >>)

Regardless she's still rather mature in handling situations bc raised as a princess so she knows how to behave

She however is a bit more fun as herself, which the other three would learn over time. Especially when she nerds out about the stars.

Her title as princess as well as Varians as Coronas royal engineer prove useful a lot on their journey

Post-vat7k she would probably try to seek out Varian at royal gatherings so they can catch up. If he's not there then she seeks out Rapunzel to ask about how he's doing :3

Idk just random stuff, nowhere near everything lol.

Dont have surname hcs for the kiddos so uh yeah idk feel free to share yours? Ig Nuru would just be "of Koto(/whatever Kingdom you assign her to)" bc princess or smth? For Yong I might look into some chinese surnames mayhaps...

Also don't have a nationality hc for Nuru so feel free to pitch yours lol

[livelaughlovekny]

He comforts you

Notes: Modern AU , Gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV a/n: Not really sure how I feel about comfort fics but writing comforting/affirmative(?) words makes me feel better. Hope that this helps anyone out there!

  “Hey.” A pause. “ Are you free?” He could hear what you didn’t say. He immediately responded. “Yeah, the playground?” He was already getting himself dressed and picking up his keys. “Yeah.” You hang up. When he arrived at the neighbourhood playground, he saw you on the swings, staring at the ground. You had that expression on your face you always have when you are thinking about what happened and trying to figure out what was wrong. He takes the swing next to you and looks at you carefully, trying not to scare or overwhelm you. “Hey. Want to talk about it?”

  You swung your feet a little, moving back and forth. “I don’t know.” He waited. He knew that you would speak, you just needed a moment to get yourself ready. “I don’t know. I- I just- I don’t know.” Your head was swamped with thoughts, unable to focus on swinging, you stopped. “I just- I don’t know. I- I’m so sorry, I can’t explain myself and there’s just like stuff I- I don’t know, I have so much but like if I can’t I-” You struggled to form a coherent sentence; your thoughts were starting to overwhelm you. There was too much happening too fast.

  Muichirou nodded his head. “Take your time. You can start small. Do you want me to guide you a little?” You nodded your head, desperate to get your thoughts straight. “How did it start?” Silently, you recounted what happened in your head and struggled to get the words out. You didn’t know how to explain yourself. He looked at you calmly. “I won’t judge, take it slow. You can always add on later. I will listen.” Right, yes, you don’t have to get everything out at once. You take a deep breath. “I was supposed to be doing homework but I wasn’t. I was texting my friends. My mother started telling me how she needs me to tell her when I want to use my laptop and phone for leisure activities. She said I only had a total of two hours a day.” Your words got stuck in your throat.

  Humming softly to acknowledge your words, Muichirou asked, “I see, how did that make you feel? Just your feelings, you don’t have to provide an explanation if you can’t at the moment.” Collecting yourself, you answered, “Annoyed. Very annoyed and frustrated.” You pause before continuing, “I- I don’t remember why. Everything feels so jumbled up together and like all mushed up. I can’t remember anything.” Your anxiety started to return and you were starting to detach from reality, struggling to stay afloat in your ocean of thoughts. He reached over and tentatively placed his hand on yours. “Come back, you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts. Take it slow. Let’s try another question. Which part of getting your laptop and phone restricted annoy you the most?”

  Getting pulled back into the real world and for a short moment, out of your thoughts, you blinked slowly, trying to calm down. “I think it’s because I’m getting too reliant on them. Especially my laptop. I need to listen to music to do most things. I need a nice distraction but not too much and I need to be able to control it. I think. It’s so hard to complete my work and tasks on time. I can’t focus. It’s just so hard. I need to like, switch between work and rest. I feel so mad at myself but I can’t help it and it’s just so tiring.” You had so much more to say but you couldn’t get it out.

  Muichirou stared at you calmly. “I get what you mean. It is tough to concentrate on stuff for long periods of time. You haven’t been feeling well for a long time, correct?” You nodded your head, feeling the need to elaborate on that too but couldn’t. “Don’t worry, you can tell me how you feel later. I understand that you find it very hard to focus on things and that’s alright, it’s not easy constantly feeling like you have to fix and prove yourself and get things done on time. It’s also okay to not know what caused you to be anxious.” And then, it was like something within you snapped.

  Tears started sliding down your cheek. Noticing your tears, Muichirou got up and hugged you. You start sobbing harder. “It’s just that I feel so angry! And I’m just mad at myself for being mad! It’s honestly my fault but I can’t help it and I feel so awful and!” Your words spilled out and stumbled against each other; you sounded incoherent yet he understood what you wanted to convey. Gently pressing his palm against your back, he slid it down and up to sooth you. “I’m here. I’m not going to leave.”

  “I may not be able to take away your pain but I hope I will be able to help you overcome it. It’s not easy carrying all that pain yourself, you have been very brave. I’m proud of you.”

a/n: didnt manage to work on my requests these few days due to school stress but its been worked on a little!! :0 might make this a series/collection where the situations are a little more details perhaps?

[madrone33]

I'm so glad the PJO show stuck the landing. I've seen a lot of shows lately that have a habit of, uh, not doing that, so I'm really happy I liked the finale episode!

(Also because I watched it with my mum, and she hasn't seen anything but the first two episodes and my rambling recaps, so I'm glad my show didn't disappoint me in front of her lol)

MAJOR SPOILERS for the PJO finale past this point!

There are only two things I can think of that I didn't really like, and that Gabe's- whole thing, basically, soz. I get why they toned him down for the visual format, and I'm not trying to undercut the actual abuse that is still happening, I just personally like Sally turning her piece of shit abusive husband to stone and then selling his statue to get money for a degree lol.

And then also the dropped police plot line is a bit iffy. They probs cut it for time or smth, but it just felt weirdly unresolved. Like, they set it up so well, and then they don't follow through at all, just straight up don't mention it again. Idk, maybe they'll bring it back for the 2nd season? Not sure how that'd work tho. It's a minor issue, but it did feel strange to me.

The rest of it was very well done though, imo!

It starts with Luke saying The Thing but different?? Giving The Last Day of Summer from The Lightning Thief musical vibes fr fr.

The fight with Ares was hella cool, with the awesome wave, and the choreography was pretty well done to my completely inexperienced eye. The ichor looked cool, very handy that it's gold so they can show 'blood' on screen and still keep it PG lol. I was cheering Percy on so hard.

They did the flashbacks so well. Honestly, every episode's done the flashbacks well, but Luke? Oh yeah. As soon as he showed up on screen, helping Percy, preparing him, I knew the end of the episode was gonna hit so hard.

The trio is still amazing. They play off of each other so well, and all their actors are so talented!

The necklace!!

Ok, Percy had zero chill on Olympus. He straight up said his shit to Zeus, knowing he'd probably be killed for it and not giving a single fuck because that was his world and his friends and his mum that were going to be hurt if this stupid war continued, and he was going to make Zeus listen even if it killed him.

And then Poseidon steps in and surrenders and when I tell you I audibly gasped I'm not kidding. Like- The gods don't just back down when they're fighting, that's not how their power dynamic works, how the glory system works, how their pride and respect and status works. I'm probs not explaining it very well 'cause it's like 1:30 am rn, (I really should stop writing these essays at midnight lol) but yeah. Poseidon was giving up a lot. And he didn't care. Because that was his son, and his son was worth more than any glory could give him.

Also, funny side note: after they started speaking what I assume is greek, and then switched back to english, my brain for some reason decided to completely forgot my native language and just- didn't process english anymore. I kid you not, it just registered as sounds without meaning. Completely alien. I sat there without understanding the next four sentences they said until my brain clicked back in and I was like, ohhh, they're speaking english. And then I had to rewind and listen to it again lol.

Zeus smugly saying he'll announce his "swift and crushing victory" and Poseidon rolling his eyes was so sibling energy lol.

... So, does Poseidon yeeting Percy back to camp without answering mean he's too overcome by emotion to say 'yes' or that he's too guilty to admit 'no'?

I like how all the cheering and clapping is muffled out by the music at first, because Percy's still shocked that he's actually alive. It's only when Annabeth hugs him that he fully processes the fact that he's safe.

Gonna be honest, I'd completely forgotten that they thought Clarisse was the Lightning Thief. They did a good job of reminding me though.

Yeah, Luke's betrayal was executed better here than the books imo. First of all, the lighting is immaculate. The past episodes had an issue with night scenes and being super dark, but the fireworks lighting up selective scenes really works.

I like how Percy figures it out first, and almost challenges Luke to deny it. And Luke is- not prepared. He had a plan. He was going to ease into this. And it hurts all the more because Percy is scared and angry and betrayed and Luke never wanted to hurt him.

What's done so well is that you can see how Luke didn't want to fight- and then Percy mentioned Hermes and Luke just snapped. Trigger button. Wrong thing to say. Now, suddenly Percy wasn't the 12 year old kid Luke was trying to save and help, he was just someone who'd said the name of That Man and now Luke was just bitter pain and rage.

Also, Percy accidentally cutting Luke - with a sword that can't even harm him anyway - and immediately apologising, and then Luke only seeing a weakness to exploit and going in for the kill. That hurt.

Ok wait imma copy paste a small ramble I posted earlier to here because it stands true. Here we go:

A bit rambling, a might not make much sense, but had a thought about that scene when Annabeth saves Percy and reveals herself. There's two things that stuck out to me; she didn't let herself show any emotion but anger, and she'd been there the whole time but only interfered just then.

She'd been suspicious enough of something to go against the plan and follow them. She heard Luke confess his betrayal while invisible and alone. She heard his true feelings about the gods, about their parents, and now after everything - after Athena. After Percy - she understood him so much more and so much less at the same time. She'd been locked in shocked grief that froze her, and the only thing that snapped her out of it was seeing Percy beneath the blade of the person they'd both trusted, and the need to protect burnt away the numbness long enough for her to compartmentalise and lock away everything but anger so she could move.

Luke's face though. Oof. All I could think was "She's like a little sister to me." (Don't crucify me if that's not his exact wording, it's almost 2am now, I'm tiiiired.) But yeah, the fact that he probably could've taken them both if he truly wanted, but the moment he saw her and her betrayed, furious face, and then looked down and saw the kid he'd been about to kill- He just ran.

The parting of ways, with the trio at Thalia's tree, bright plans for the future, hugging and smiling and making a pact to come back to each other, no matter what- that was so toothrottingly sweet.

And then the cabin scene? Heartwarming af. The mother and son duo is just. You can feel their desperate relief and love for each other. It's so good.

A bit wary when Kronos showed up, wasn't sure if the whole prior stuff was 'just a dream' but I'm guessing Percy was just remembering how they reunited, and Kronos hijacked his nice memory. That was well done, too. Percy was just so Done with this guy, like c'mon, give the kid a break. And then him waking up with his mum again - like I said; they're so sweet. The fact that this happens often enough for them to have a dedicated book lmao. Also, him calling Kronos grandpa was on point.

It exits out of the window Sally was sitting on! And it's raining!! (Also, another side note, but whenever something exits with a window I just think of The Last of Us episode 3).

Ok so they have to make a second season. It's the law. They gotta.

Hmm. Think that's everything I can think of saying now lol.

(Thank you for everyone who worked hard on this! Even if I don't like some stuff, I know that so many hours of work was poured into this and I appreciate it so much!)

EDIT: OH WAIT I almost forgot Ares completely out of pocket line about Percy's mum, and yeah, no way was he getting out of that now, asshole. Also, the way Percy and Luke's parents are a trigger. The character similarities are similying~

[brandonjohnbarnard]

Production history around: Gacha’nce

This article goes into the production history around my film ‘Gacha’nce’, in terms of the events happening before, during, and after its creation.

I am going to talk about this film slightly differently to my other films: chronologically. I have a massive ‘To Do list’ (TDL) where I track a lot of my ins and outs of daily life. Really, its more a planner than a TDL, but the name has stuck.

Above is a redacted version of my TDL to help illustrate the timeline of this film. Redacted, as to not completely dox myself or others, and to make it more legible.

BEFORE PRODUCTION

On the 1st date (27th of Jan) — I attended to just watch. It was a lot of fun, and for the 2nd date (23rd of March) I brought along my own film ‘Broodiest Flunkey’ to screen.

Before the screening, there was a workshop where we had to use prompts in order to collect footage — for more details on this read my article about ‘circles’.

Fast forward to 6PM, the screening happens, and I get to show off my film. The entire process was a lot of fun.

So in that moment, after my film shows and the crowd applauds: I decide I want to make a new film for Cinaesthesia 3 on the 4th of May.

There was also something great about having a deadline. That I could not put it off if I wanted to be a part of the next event.

PRODUCTION

Five days after Cinaesthesia 2, my wife and I were on our way to Japan for our honeymoon. I had wanted to go there my whole life — it was my major ‘bucket list’ holiday, if I could go anywhere, it would be there.

Since we were going to Japan, I thought ‘why not think about gachapon and how they relate to chance’ since gachapon are very popular in the country (way more than I had expected actually). Chance was on my mind heavily because of my recent DADA reading, and due to some elements present in ‘Broodiest Flunkey’ (in particular the scrabble piece elements).

I was really interested in the idea that chance can be seen as some type of deity, or cosmic entity. That everything good that happens to us, and everything bad, is in one way or another linked to chance. That we are constantly immersed within a butterfly effect which is influenced by our own thrashing around in our lives. This connection between agency and chance too I thought was important. We can make decisions for sure, but we cannot choose.

I then started to think about the idea of how many choices you make within a day, and how much deviation one person has within said day. With so many of life’s most important results often relying on a small, in-the-moment, insignificant decision, I started to both think about how much pressure that could feel like, but also how could you maximise the possibility that your minor decisions have a large and worthwhile impact.

I then started looking at synonyms of ‘chance’ to try to prompt more thinking. I won’t share all of them, but some of them are nice.

I also started to notice the annoying connection between chance and capitalism.

When landing in Japan, I put a lot of the writing to the side, and started to capture as many instances of gachapon and related chance elements as I could. I ended up with 129 files which I thought were good enough to use.

I also made sure to collect many shots at different heights. Mainly, the movement from street level, to Tokyo Tower height, to Skytree. I wanted ‘the amount of decisions’ within the shot to increase each step, and for this to correlate with the ‘weight’ of decisions. This too, with the main character getting buried the higher up we go, I thought was a good contrast.

2 days after we had returned from our 2 week honeymoon, I started to think about the other scenes needed for the production.

I had the idea of having my head surrounded by gachapon, as I slowly started to sink into them. I made sure to keep every one I opened during my trip, which made packing a bit of a nightmare. Circles are not the most convenient shape for space efficiency.

I cannot for the life of me find the raw footage of this being made, so I will need to use my memory. I made a small box which only allowed my head to stick through. Isobel crouched on top of me in bed, while she covered me in balls. After every few seconds of being still, I sunk down more and more.

In Tokyo, I also found these gachapon props which I really wanted to use for something. Originally, I wanted to create a ‘god of chance’ that either used these gacha pieces in their outfit, or on a box which they were released from, or both.

Instead, I ended up using them as a way to symbolise the afterlife or death, that this was the final moment in one’s life and therefore did not have agency, and as such, have no coins left to play a game of chance.

The other scene I needed to film after Japan was opening a gachapon ball full of blood. Oh my god, this fake blood was so hard to get off of skin. Once you got it, you were stained for a very long time. This is one of two scenes I do not like in the piece. I really wish I had gacha balls underneath rather than cardboard. I think it would have looked more ‘in-place’ since cardboard does not appear anywhere else. It is too sterile. This was made right after ‘Broodiest Flunkey’, so I was still thinking in those terms in regards to production aesthetic.

(The other scene I don’t like is the chromakey on the trees. A bit too jarring.)

When editing the piece, I originally wanted to keep increasing the amount of gacha machines being shown on screen, but I worried that my PC would not be able to handle that, and also that I did not have enough scenes.

So, as a way to compromise not having enough footage, I decided to play around with some of the blocks and have that be a different shot playing across multiple squares.

In the end, I found that the film was already overstaying its welcome at 2m22s, so decided to not go this far with the idea. Also, because this was being made for Cinaesthesia, there was a 3 minute cap for film length.

When I was making the storyboard to ensure scene order made sense, I realised that I was not going to reach 3 mins anyway, so a lot of the editing was based on vibes, or ‘what felt right’ — very different from ‘Broodiest Flunkey’ prior.

In terms of a cool chance discovery while editing, I really like how the fish look when chromakey is applied to them. Because their colours are shifting as they swim, it means that their transparency flutters between different parts of the frame. Using their shiniest point as well as the chromakey means that you get a really clear transparency which only appears for brief moments.

CINAESTHESIA 3

The film premiered on the 4th of May at Cinaesthesia 3. It was a fun night, and really felt like a big exhale after a project that took up a lot of my mental energy. It is funny thinking of the cycle of ‘this film is now out there, time for the next one’, the idea that the release allows something new to take its place.

THOUGHTS SINCE

It is odd how new thoughts emerge from your pieces which you had not thought of prior. Now I cannot help but think that Gacha’nce has anti-capitalism messaging (which makes sense as I’m anti-capitalist), but there are lots of ties to money and decision making, that finances allow you to have more choices than other people. This was not on my mind when I made it (consciously at least), but I cannot help but see that now.

Also, it is funny. This film is cursed. Whenever it has appeared at a screening or gallery, the name has been spelt wrong. I thought it was clever. Gacha + Chance = Gacha’nce. Oh well.

This film also started my thinking of how film productions can be used as an opportunity for a photoshoot at the same time. If you are creating a cool scenario, why not take advantage in the moment and create other types of media in the process. Now whenever I do a cool shot, I think it’s a ‘gacha’nce moment’.

THE END

Thanks a bunch for reading. I would really like to hear about what you think after going through this piece. I hope some of it has been helpful to you and your practice, or has been interesting at least.

I am excited to catch up to my films in terms of articles, because then I will start writing about some of the specifics of creation, or specific themes. Being able to release an article alongside a film would be nice too, though I do worry about not being able to appreciate a process fully without some breath.

Have fun out there x

[monkelyn]

Bittersweet Memories

I have only ever been in 2 relationships in my 24 years of living. Each one had moments that made me feel as though it was truly a romantic relationship. Even thogh the end was sour, the ride along the way was sweet.

My first ever relationship was in Highschool. I was about 16 and was known as the jokester. I never expected anyone to be smitten by me cuz I never liked to think I was cute enough for that attention. The way I looked and act didn't feel right in my mind for someone else to look at me and say 'wow, I wanna ask her out.' And yet here he was, asking me out on a Band trip.

I decided why not? He was a good friend and someone who made me laugh. He even had glasses, which I am always attracted to. Anyways, the thing that stuck with me all these years was our little gimmick. I'm not sure if my future relationships will have one, but I'm hoping so. Everytime one of us would say 'What can you do?' the other would say 'What it do, 42.' I can't remember for the life of me why we started that but I remember how much I loved it. It was something that was ours. Obviously things ended fairly quickly, about 6 months in. I wouldn't date another person until 4 years later.

For the second relationship, there is something you need to know. First of all, we had met years ago at a band competition. About the same time my first relationship ended, funny enough. We weren't flirty, but we did exchange phone numbers. And through the years we would randomly send silly memes to one another. Until one day he messaged that he was near the area and wanted to hangout.

I'd be lying if I said I wasnt a nervous wreck. A man I hadn't seen in almost 4 years suddenly wants to hang? But I decided to meetup. It would be interesting to catch up and see what he had been up to. When we met for the 2nd time in our life's, it felt awkward but weirdly comforting. We hungout for about 6 hours together before I had to head home. And that's what started it all. He was easy to talk with and I felt comfortable being my balls-to-the-walls self with him. And he had glasses, those damn cute glasses.

Our first six months he would always did something that scared the crap outta me. He would do spontaneous trust falls. And when I tell you everytime I was breathless when he did it, I swear I think I learned a lot of breathing techniques because I would hyperventilate so much (just kidding... Sorta)

The reason it scared the hell outta me was because I was worried I wouldn't be there one of those days. That one day I would be busy with something else and he would fall and hurt himself. I never wanted to let him down or ever let him feel I wouldn't be there. Because even though it scared me, I was also really happy. Happy that he would trust me like that, at least that is how I want to see it. Though, maybe I should have tried to do a trust fall with him. Maybe that would have helped me in the future when I figured out I couldn't trust him fully? It's still a sensitive memory but I know that I appreciate that I had something with him.

I needed to write this, and I just wanna know if anyone else has these memories of their ex? Or even their Significant Others right now. I didn't mention one because we were never official but he and I had a few memories that make me smile. And while things are different, I do appreciate those moments with each of them.

I'll always look back at those bittersweet memories with a tender smile.

[faeryarchives]

Hug Me!

gn!reader x malleus draconia

your lover wants to drown you with their affection but doesn't know how, until you beat them to it.

note: ok so it's been a while since i last wrote something i am sorry if it is a bit rusty 😔 and i tried writing in a 2nd point of view let me know what you guys think abt it ^^

Walking down the trail back to the Ramshackle Dorm feels nostalgic after being stuck in the training camp for a while. Finally going back to your own dorm after a week of chaos is such a great feeling. Stretching your arms up in the air, you let the warm breeze welcome you back home.

"Never thought there would be a day that I would miss our precious dorm." While you seemed to be happy being back, Grim on the other hand is on a whole new level of joy, feeling free from everything - eyes sparkling and the fire of his ears start to go brighter.

"My sweet soft bed! No more errands from those professors and students finally I can sleep in peace."

"Grim wait- and there he goes." Before saying another word, the cat monster immediately speed towards their dorm leaving you alone on the trail. '

Silly Grim, I'll make sure that he gets his favorite tuna later.'

The prefect continue walking down the trail enjoying the scenery - birds chirping, tree leaves dancing in the air and a certain dorm leader standing in front of their garden.

Such a wonderful sight brought a smile to your face as you quietly walked behind the person - trying to give them a scare by covering their eyes but then unexpectedly your surprised (eye color) eyes met excited bright green ones.

"Child of man, you are back. You were gone for some time." Malleus muttered, his hands holding your hands together gently as if anytime you are going away for another long time. Seeing how your lover looks like a sad dragon, you find your hand patting his head and gave him a kiss on his hand.

"I missed you too, Mal! Let me tell you what happened during the camp, I wished you were there." The two of you sat together under the tree near the garden, Malleus laying comfortably on your lap as you continuously run your fingers through his hair and horns. From morning till noon, the ravenette listen to all of your story with an unknowing pout on his face.

'It's been a while since I last saw you.' Being away from you for some time made the dragon yearn for your affection and wants to drown you with his own love. 'But you look so happy talking about other humans.'

Hearing stories of you having fun without him makes him a little sad. A sigh escaped his lips making you sneak a glance at Malleus' face. Noticing how his mood changed, you poke his forehead with a finger and let out a giggle when he somehow looked confused with your actions.

"(Nickname) why did you stop?" He sat up and look at you curiously. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and puff your cheeks out - looking the other way with a huff.

"Aren't you forgetting something? I am really hurt." Although you said it as a joke, there are so many thoughts running to the Draconia's mind at the moment. Did you get offended in some way? Or did you read his mind? Did you not like his hair condition?

A laugh cut his brainstorming in a halt and all of his problems were solved the moment you opened your arms wide with a grin.

"You goofy dragon. Hug me!"

Ah, it was so easy. How can he be so foolish? Malleus chuckled at his own dilemma, looking directly to your eyes before engulfing you into a warm hug - burying his head to your neck and let out a soft sigh as if he is in the safest place in this wonderland.

"I am really back home, Mal."

"Welcome home, my love."

and little did they know something will happened in the future *ahem* chapter 7 *ahem* anyways i can't wait for diasomnia's ssr dorm cards like SEBEK'S CARD IS SAUR PRETTY IM SO GLAD I GOT HIM 🥹

as always i hope u guys enjoyed and hopefully i am not shadowbanned?? if i got shadowban i will reblog this over andd over again i need everyone to know abt my malleus fluff before angst agenda 👹

recent fics: adore you & so this is heartache

[jalwoorideul]

what if heaven went onto youngji’s show? how would it go?

No Prepare

synopsis: Heaven appears as a guest on Youngji's show

warning: alcohol consumption

a/n: I've actually had this idea for some time but i never got the chance to write it yet until now TT_TT

-------

Haneul was a bit nervous.

She'd always wanted to appear on Youngji's show since she was a fan of the young rapper

And now she was finally here

Her manager told her to drink responsibly (AS EVERYONE SHOULD)‼️

Heaven rang the doorbell, and from inside you could hear rumbling and a few scream and laughs.

When she was viewable through the screen door and from the inside Youngji said, "Why is she so pretty? Is this person even real?"

As soon as the door opens, the host was continuously bowing down to her to the point that she even touched the floor with her forehead — a gesture that Haneul imitated,while exchanging numerous numbers of "hello's".

"Wow you look really pretty" Haneul stated as she took off her shoes

To which Youngji reacted funnily by pretending to choke. "I woke up early just to put on make up today"

"Oh really?" She asked with an airy laugh. The young rapper then replied with, "Yes, I have to keep up with you" which made the girl group idol shy and laugh.

"Please have a seat!" The host stated while pointing to the chair. "I prepared chicken and soju and yogurt"

"Did you mix it yourself?" Haneul asked as she noticed the pitcher mixed with soju and yogurt drink. "Yes and I made sure to add more alcohol than yogurt"

Heaven brought scented candles as a house visit gift for Youngji

She brought a whole box because she didn't know what scent she would like. She also said they're enough for the whole stafe

"Unnie!" Youngji shouted and backed up pretending to cry.

"You didn't have to do this" She said while opening the box and and handed one each to the staff

Soon, Youngji sat across the table to start the program. "Wait, before we forget please introduce yourself"

"Hello, I'm Red Velvet's Heaven" She said to the camera. "Everyone, clap your hands!" Youngji instructed making the staff roar and clap along with her. The action made the idol shy which resulted in her hiding her face behind her hair.

The two toasted and drank a shot to commence the shoot

"How many bottles of soju can you drink?" Youngji asked as she poured one more drink for Haneul.

"The most I can take is 2 and a half, but I'm pretty much tipsy by the 2nd bottle"

"Does that make you the one with the highest tolerance?"

She shook her head and answered "I think Irene unnie has the highest alcohol tolerance. She can take up to 3 bottles before but she said that was when she used to drink frequently."

"Do you have any drinking habits?"

The red velvet member continued with, "This is a bit TMI, but you'll know that the alcohol is kicking in when I keep going back and forth to the bathroom" 😭

"Omo, please keep the chopsticks ready in case the bathroom door gets stuck again" Youngji told her staff.

(Wouldn't want to lock her out of the bathroom when she has to go) 😭

Then they asked Haneul if they could play her solo debut

She even thought her the choreography

They also did a tiktok together ✨

"WEEKEND COMEEESS I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT" Youngji screamed along

They began talking about Haneul's photoshoot for Victoria's Secret and what her parents and members think about it. They were taking shots and eating in between it.

"My parents awere so shocked when the photos were released. I told them I was doing a photoshoot but not for VS and when the photos came out they started spamming me about why I didn't tell them. But they weren't mad. I think I gave my dad a mini heart attack but they were fine with it"

"The members wouldn't stop shouting at the dorms. The girls and I took a look at it together because they know how nervous I was about how it will come out. I think Irene even talked about it on bubble"

Then they started playing a drinking game. Youngji brought out a card game, something she prepared for today.

It was called Buzzed 😬

Basically they pick a card and if that card corresponds to them, they take a shot.

Youngji pulled out a card

"The person next to you can ask you any question. They take a shot if they refuse to answer"

Haneul let out an evil laugh while thinking of a question 💀

"I'm scared" 🧍 Youngji whispered which made the staff and Youngji laugh

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

Youngji let out a nervous laugh 😬 "Ha... haha.. ha" then she took a shot. "Omg who? you can whisper it to me"

Which was followed by, "What if I have none?"

"THEN WHY DID YOU TAKE A SHOT?" Heaven exclaimed with an amused smile.

"IT MADE ME NERVOUS. YOUR EVIL LAUGH WAS SCARY"

Then it was Haneul's turn to pick a card. It said to play Rock, Paper, Scissors, and the loser has to take a shot

Then they started doing that rock, paper, scissor technique where they cross their arms and fold it and they peek through the holes from their hands (I DON'T KNOW IF THAT MADE SENSE BUT I SEE THEM DO THESE A LOT 😭)

Youngji won. Heaven is pouting and she took a shot.

Then Youngji picked another card

"Everyone who is single, drink" 💀

Heaven smiled and placed her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table, watching Youngji take a shot.

"Unnie, you're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Yeah this is fun, let's do one more!" She said excitedly and picked another card.

It was already evident that she was getting excited and is getting a but tipsy 💀🧍

The card says: Take a dare from someone. If you don't do it, you take a shot

This time, it was Youngji who started evil laughing

"Post a picture of your eyebrow on IG, with no explanation"

AND SHE DID

Fans were very confused why Heaven posted a picture of her eyebrow on ber stories

"Heaven's eyebrow" trended for the day 🤠

The card picking went on until Heaven picked up one last card

"Who was the last person you texted and what did you say?"

Heaven knew all too well who she texted last.

"The last person I texted was Soonyoung."

Youngji probably misheard it because she asked "Joy?" whose real name was Sooyoung

"No. Soonyoung. Hoshi" She replied emphasizing his real name.

"OMO!" Youngji stood up and fanned her face. "Unnie! You’re both so cute, do you know that?"

Then she revealed her text.

"Soonyoung-ah, I'm going to film with Youngji now. I'll text you when I'm done"

Then the staff and Youngji started fangirling😩🤸🤸🤸

Then Youngji couldn't help but aks more questions. "If it's okay. And you can definitely not answer, but how did you started dating? Who asked who?"

"I asked him" She said confidently. With utter shock Youngji took a shot, and Heaven followed along

"How?" 😯😯😯😯

"We debuted not that far from each other. And our schedules overlapped a lot, so we often saw each other then we eventually became friends, and it just went on from there. And then after the Redmare tour I just asked him to eat out with me and he agreen and I told him from there"

"Both of you are huge stars though, what if you both get busy?"

"We just gotten used to it. We're both workaholics, but we always make it a rule to update each other even if the other one doesn't reply because we understand that we're both busy working, and that's fine with both of us. We still see each other on our days off"

Youngji was swooning over the two of them. After her interview with Soonyoung, she can't help but gush over how in love the two are.

By this time, Heaven was starting to get mkre tipsy and now she was asking to go to the restroom. "Unnie, you're getting drunk aren't you"

"Probably" She said while she went along to the bathroom

While Youngji was dancing and singing along to Feel my Rhythm as she waits for Heaven to come out and to fill the airtime, Heaven's phone (which she placed upright on the table), received a text message

When Heaven came back she noticed the text messaged she received. "Oh he replied back. Soonyoung's on a break"

"We should call him and we should test how much he knows you" Youngji said as a joke

Which Heaven took seriously 😭

"Hi bub" Heaven, along with Youngji and the staff heard Hoshi say across the line

Youngji was gasping for air all too possibly and now she had her mouth covered.

"I thought you were filming, are you done already?" The male continued

"No we're still filming actually, I'm sitting with Youngji right now"

Youngji: 😱😵🤠

"Oh really? Hi Youngji!" The male said enthusiastically

"She said I should call you and we can test how much you know me"

Youngji: "I didn't think she'd actually take it seriously"

And yes it was because Heaven was already a bit tipsy and is getting too excited

"Okay, what's the question?" Soonyoung asked.

Youngji was scrambling because she has no question ready at the moment because this was all too sudden and she was flustered which made the staff and Heaven laugh

"Okay....OKAY. But if you get this wrong, Heaven has to take a shot. But if you get it right, I have to take a shot"

ALL THE MORE FUN AND DRINKING I GUESS

The staff gave Heaven a piece of paper so she can write down her the correct before Hoshi mentions his answer

"What was Heaven's least favorite subject in school?"

Haneul quickly wrote her answer: Gym

She hates physical exercise.

"That's easy. Gym class"

Everyone was shocked excluding Haneul. They've talked about it before when they were still friends. But ut was the fact that Soonyoung remembered that little trivia about her which made Haneul giddy

Youngji didn't even hesitate to take another shot.

Then Hoshi had to practice again and then they hang up

(... they whispered i love you to each other and yes the camera caught that...)

Soon the program ended, with Haneul going back to the bathroom 2 more times and Youngji already a bit tipsy

"I don't want to go"

"No unnie you should"

"But I'm having a lot of fun though" She said while pouting

"Unnie you're really cute, but you really have to go"

Haneul definitely understands now why the guests don't want to leave this show so soon because they make it feel like it's so natural

"Please call her manager" Youngji said while fake crying

She couldn't wait to tell the girls and Hoshi aboute her visit

"Alright alright I'll get going. It was so nice talking to you" Then she gave the young host a hug which made her squeal with joy

She picked up her shoes and said her goodbyes

[chippedaxe]

𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Title: 𝑨 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌

Warning(s): NSFW, not sure what other warnings ?? Pet names used, unedited (as always)

Pronouns : they/them, non specified genitalia (Or at least I tried to keep it vague)

Synopsis: What was a seemingly harmless prank turns out to cause a helluva lot of chaos.

Pairing: c!Sapnap X gn reader (Sub reader btw)

Word count: 2k

Note: simping for Sapnap hours <3 No one requested it but I suddenly got this idea and was like 'I have to write it, it's what the people would want' and I also wrote it bc Sapnap has no full fics in my masterlist yet <3

* lemme know if I've missed any warnings/tags or if you see a mistake in this fic that I can quickly change (I didn't rlly proof read, I just sorta scanned over it with my eyes)

ੈ✩‧₊˚

2nd POV

You walked to the bathroom after a long day. You were held back a few hours to work overtime without warning and you’re pretty sure that you won’t be getting paid extra, you weren’t in the mood and just needed to relax with a nice shower.

You entered your bathroom and closed the door, you assumed by default that Sapnap wouldn’t bother you since he’s normally such a good roommate and he hadn’t bothered you in the bathroom before! You stripped yourself of your clothes and hung up your outfit that you were planning to wear when you get out of the shower.

You placed the clothes on your sink counter and then approached the shower, your feet were placed on the bath mat as you stood there patiently. You took a deep breath before walking in, you turned both faucets and waited for the water to warm up to a good temperature. You got underneath the water and let the shower rinse off all of the dirt and negative emotions.

You could only hear the water hitting the shower floor since most of the water plugged up your ears, you tried to wash it out but failed so you better hope that no roommate of yours comes in here and plays games while you’re basically half deaf. You grabbed the soap and lathered it in your hands, your soapy hands running over your soft skin.

You came to a pause when you thought you heard something but decided to shrug it off “what would it be anyways? It’s not like Sapnap would come in here” you thought to yourself as you continued washing up. Your hand trailed down to your nether regions and you whined a bit as you cleaned down there, you were just cleaning but your body didn’t know that and so you became a bit aroused.

You ignored the arousal and just continued to have your shower, if you were still horny later on than you’d deal with it but not now. You rinsed the soap off your body and sighed, today was a rough and tiring day but you got through it.

You turned the shower off when you were finished getting clean, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your body. You got out onto the bathroom mat and started to dry yourself with the towel, you glanced over towards the bathroom sink and your eyes widened.

“Where the fuck did my clothes go?” You asked out loud, your eyes searching the floor just in case they may have fallen down. You groaned in annoyance and wrapped your towel around yourself securely so it wouldn’t fall and then you stomped out to your bedroom to look for the little thief.

You had a look through your drawers to quickly get dressed and confront the troublemaker but it seemed as all your clothes had mysteriously disappeared. You pulled out all the drawers and you searched all the shelves, even your closet was completely empty apart from some scattered shoes.

You whined angrily and then stomped downstairs, your feet dragging along the floor “Sapnap!” You called out to him and he came to your call “what’s up? Like the new look!” Sapnap looked up and down at your towel covered body “Oh hush up! Where’s my clothes? I know you had something to do with their disappearance!” You accused.

“What? Me? What makes you think that?!” Sapnap gasped “they couldn’t have just grown legs and ran away!” You put your hands on your hips “psh, you got me! It’s just a harmless prank..” Sapnap put his hands up in defeat “Good- great, now give them back please!” You held your hand out expectedly.

“Why? I’m liking this outfit you’ve got on right now..” Sapnap teased “oh please, do not start with the flirting again” you rolled your eyes “I can’t give your clothes back right now but feel free to borrow some of mine!” Sapnap smiled “Huh?? Why can’t you give them back?” You exclaimed “if I told you than it’d ruin the whole prank! Just borrow some of my clothes” Sapnap invited you to his wardrobe.

You pouted and entered his room, roaming his closet and just mindlessly picking some of his clothes. “What am I meant to do about my underwear? Can you at least give that back?” You asked “you don’t need underwear, if you do then just borrow some of mine” Sapnap shrugged it off. You wanted to argue with him but found that he had already turned his back to you and left.

You changed into his clothes, his baggy shirt and pants made your body look more boxed up. You tugged at the fabric and it started to cling to your body more “stupid electricity-“ you tried to get it to move away from your curves but it stayed stuck to you.

You walked out into the living room and crossed your arms “When am I supposed to be ‘getting pranked’?” You sighed “oh fuck, you’re looking hella good in my clothes, maybe I’m doin you a favor” Sapnap licked his lips quickly. You scoffed and flicked his forehead “I look good in my own clothes too, you know??” You huffed “I personally think you’d look way better without any clothes, you looked amazing in that towel earlier” Sapnap wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re disgusting!” You laughed at his little flirting attempts “you know you love it, baby!” Sapnap winked “oh I do” you decided to tease back which made the tip of his ears turn slightly red “oh you do? That really warms my heart, c’mere and show me some love!” Sapnap held his arms out to you but you only pushed him away.

“Your offer is very kind but I must decline, I don’t show love to people who steal my clothes!” You told him. Sapnap lowered his head and frowned “What’re you so upset for? I was gonna get you out of your clothes anyways” he jokes around “oh be quiet!” You slap his arm playfully.

He gasps and exclaims dramatically “OUCH! I can’t believe you’ve striked me! All I did was love you and this is how you repay me??” He falls to the ground slowly and fakes his own death “may I have one final request?” He whispered and You leaned down “maybe one..” you decided to play along “can a dying man please have one final kiss?” Sapnap closed his eyes.

You decided ‘fuck it’ and leaned in, your lips pressing against his. He caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss but you were quick to pull away “hey, I don’t go making out with thieves” you smirked “Oh? Maybe you can make this ol’ criminal a good guy again, what’dya think?” Sapnap wrapped an arm around your waist.

You looked up at him and smiled “oh of course, is this thief gonna return my clothes?” You asked “only if you return mine..” Sapnap whispered and started to slowly tug at your collar “hm.. I think we have a deal” you slipped your shirt off and stood there with a bare chest “you look good, baby” Sapnap blew a kiss at you.

You slipped the rest of your clothes off and kicked them away, you were completely naked now “Shit- I can’t believe you were hiding all this from me..” Sapnap came up to you and ran his hands down your sides “my eyes are up here, play boy” you grinned. Sapnap’s eyes snapped from your body up to meet your gaze.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your mouth parting to allow his tongue entrance. You wrapped your arms around his neck and panted slightly as you two were now having a heated make out session. You pulled away for air and gulped down your spit “Sapnap..” you breathed out “yes, Y/n?” He smirked.

“Take your clothes off, it’s unfair” you complained and started to pull at his clothes “calm down. I’ll take my clothes off whenever you ask, baby” Sapnap stripped himself hastily and then posed for you, your eyes narrowed as you stared at him “checking me out?” Sapnap laughed.

Your eyes couldn’t help but be attracted to the large thing hanging between his legs, his cock was huge and throbbing “oh fuck..” you muttered “what was that?” Sapnap got closer “your cock is humongous!” You shouted “haven’t I told you that before?” Sapnap kissed your neck gently as you two were speaking and taking in each other’s beautiful bodies.

His hands rubbed at your hips gently “I’ve been waiting so long for you, Y/n.. I’ve had this crazy attraction to you ever since we met, you were the only one that ever joked back with me..” Sapnap confessed “I always had a soft spot for your stupid jokes..” you whispered softly, “I KNEW IT!” Sapnap hugged you and started to pepper kisses all over your face excitedly.

“Does this mean we’re dating??” You questioned “no it means we’re mortal enemies, of course we’re dating!!” Sapnap joked around “oh wow..” you blushed softly before realizing that you two were in the middle of having sex “oh um..” your face was red.

“Do you need me to stretch you out, do a little foreplay?” Sapnap’s hands caressed your torso, his mouth leaving soft kisses on your neck which left tiny purple marks “ah.. No, I just need your cock now..” you were ready for him! Sapnap guided you to his bed and laid you down onto your back, he then crawled on top of you and smiled.

Sapnap positioned his huge throbbing cock with your tiny hole, you gasped and threw your head back when he started to slide into your slowly “does this hurt?” Sapnap asked when he saw your facial expressions “n-no! It feels so good..” you cooed.

Sapnap gripped onto your hips and started to thrust inside of you, his cock was overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight warm squishy insides. Your legs were quivering and your hands were covering your mouth, you felt embarrassed to have such loud lewd sounds spewing out of your mouth like this but it was hard to control.

Sapnap thrusted harder and faster which made you yelp, tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure that you were getting from his cock stretching your insides “Fuck! Gonna cum-“ you scratch his back, leaving light claw marks on his skin. Sapnap continued to fuck into you roughly “cum for me, baby..” he encouraged.

You went over the edge and came hard, your juices running down your thighs. Your head was thrown back and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, your back arched and your legs were shaking uncontrollably from the stimulation “FUCK! I love you!-“ you then panted and whined as you tried to catch your breath after just having the best orgasm of your life.

Sapnap came shortly after, his cum leaking out of your hole and down your thighs “shit, sorry about the mess-“ you shut him up with a kiss “clean the mess. Return my clothes. Cuddle me.” You instructed as you tiredly laid down on the bed “will do! I love you too, Y/n” he gave your forehead a kiss before going to clean everything up.

[monstersinthecosmos]

you mentioned how many of Armand's traits have been given to Louis, but I think when I really started to give up on getting even a loose book interpretation of Armand was when I saw the first Claudia trailer. Cause if you already have one character stuck in perpetual teenagerhood, are you that motivated to introduce a 2nd one? I mean, I personally would, because I think it'd be that much funnier to see two teenagers plotting against each other in S2, but my fear is these writers will just figure they've got teen angst and identity covered, and all they need Armand for is to pop up and be a non-threatening love interest while Lestat is otherwise engaged.

I'm still not sold on the Rashid theories, mostly because no matter how ooc one gets, I'm not sure I can believe they'd position Armand as totally subservient to Louis. And I LIKE Rashid. But as Armand? No, please no.

So like. I’ve been really cautious about talking about Claudia because I’m like, mega skeptical about this character change and I don’t like it 😊

As much as I’m willing to give AMC!Claudia a chance as an individual OC, I’ve gotten some red flags about the way the team has talked about women & girls and I’m just. Like. How are you going to remove the main feminist drive of the story to replace it with potentially sexist tropes about teenage girls?

I wrote about this a while back so I won’t go deep on this right now, but I think it’s really suspicious that RJ & them don’t think aging L&L up to their 30s matters when like, they’re saying being 14 somehow is an existential crisis. Does age matter or does it not? Why do they keep commenting on girls’ hormones? Do these vampires even HAVE hormones?! Bro she’s dead lol. I mean I guess they have sex now so whatever it’s a whole new world.

But like the thing about VC characters is that their age has more to do with their relationship to humanity imo; we’ve talked in circles about whether or not the Blood fixes your brain where it is and I think that’s a really cool conversation to have but there’s not a definitive answer bc Anne wasn’t writing with it in mind. Their life experiences are more significant than their brains.

Like, Armand has never been a teen angst figure. Even when I first read them as a teen I wasn’t like OMG HE’S LIKE ME.  VC isn’t a coming of age story and isn’t YA. Armand is 500 years old lmfao and his mortal age is a stigma to always remind us what happened to him. His visual age creates a set of external factors related to the way people treat him, and same with Book!Claudia. Claudia was not a child, either, and the tragedy of her story (aside from the internal body horror) is that people will treat her like a child forever.

So having AMC!Claudia as a teenage girl can still feature this same topic; the horror of her story has potential to tap into those same themes, even if they’re very different. There’s a difference in that she CAN be independent even if her journey getting there is different. This tragedy is less internal than the book, less dramatically anyway; I think the horror here will be more external. People are still probably going to talk down to her and treat her poorly and not allow her agency in certain situations. In a universe where she can have & wants to have sex, she’s always going to have to navigate potential child predators. But she isn’t locked to an adult the way Book!Claudia is. And I think this has a lot of potential and like, even accepting the change as a logistical workaround for shooting, I think care has to be taken to tell that rich story, and I’d like to see it. I would hate for us to swap out Claudia’s story for vampire soap opera teen girl tropes, especially knowing how personal the character was to Anne and how it started the entire series.

So having said that, like. There’s two ways to look at this:

If Armand is still a teen, after watching Episode 4 I really worry about the petty changes they’d make to him if there’s like TEENAGER LORE in this universe. Armand isn’t Like That because he’s a dumb teenager, he’s Like That because he’s been repeatedly traumatized for centuries. Even as a mortal he wasn’t a typical teenager. WHAT DID MARIUS CALL HIM, A WIZENED FUNERAL SPIRIT OR SOMETHING LMAO. And like if the show posits that Teenage Girl = Whiny Boy Crazy Annoying Drama Queen, like, what is the trope they’ll lean into for Teenage Boy? How does this lore about being hormonal fit into the way they’ll portray him?

And like, WHILE YOU’RE RIGHT THAT NOW WE ALREADY HAVE A TEEN CHARACTER it makes me wonder if Armand’s role would change and how this could change the way he antagonizes Claudia. COULD THEY EVEN BE A COUPLE????? Imagine she leaves with Armand instead of Madeleine?

Cause I’m thinking like, if they stuck to the main Paris story, this Claudia doesn’t really have a NEED for Madeleine at all, does she? They’re setting her up that she’s interested in romance so I think it might be that she wants a romantic partner. (Of course Madeleine might have been romantic too once she turned but meaning that it was framed as a parental figure because Claudia was always going to need a visible adult.)

But if the show isn’t afraid of talking about teenage sexuality, he could still show up as a love interest. Like the shallowest read of TVA would tell us that he’s like Ricean Sex Addict Teen and I wonder in the hands of this team if that translates to him being hypersexual in trying to seduce Louis. We sure rushed through to Claudia’s 18th birthday, so! Lol Maybe they’re not afraid to go there. (Also how old were Louis and Jonah??????????????????????????????????????????? Louis might not mind lol.)

But you’re also right that if there’s only room for one teen, and Armand ISN’T a teen, like. It’s just not the same, yall!!!!!!!!!! It’s just not the same character. And even seeing the way age is handled/discussed in this universe (plus the way they’ve handled Daniel & Night Island) just screams to me that they don’t care about Armand the way I do LMAO. To each his own, man, but it’s like. As a VC fan, like, when you strip so much of what I enjoy about VC from an adaptation, what’s left?   

[dotthemagpie]

A weather-beaten Journal

The world gone to shit, it has Fallen.

A virus have knocked out most of the humanity and in a bid to survive had to fall into “serfdom".

The monsters starts to live out on Farms, and our favorite have one such farm.

The virus that knocked out humanity have the potential to turn monsters Feral, making them more like beasts than Monsters.

One day a servant finds a red and black journal, stained with yellow spots and smelling vaguely of mustard.

Since she was done with her tasks for today she decided to find a secluded corner and started to read.

Dec 16th, 6 years after the Fall

** **

My bro got the virus. He have been trying to hide it, trying his best to control himself, but today he lashed out and killed five servants when they got on his nerves. He growled and snarled like a beast, using his fang to tear out the throat of two of them before tearing the other three apart._

It is soulrending to see him act like this. He has already chosen a spot for himself in the barn, making himself a proper den before he loses his mind to his feral side. (There are smudges on a few words, as if tears had fallen while the person were writing it.)

…We are eating lasagna tonight, and it is the tastiest lasagna I have ever eaten. It seems like my bro have suddenly become the perfect chef. Not even Black, the critical fucker were praising the food a lot. Puzzle even said that he could never make a lasagna as good as that.

Skull devoured one and a half himself and pouted like a wounded puppy when he didn’t get any more.

My bro was so proud.

**Dec 20, 6 atf **

He tried to attack Blue today. Went right for his soul. Stretch almost killed him, and I had to beat the fucker until he learned that no one touches my lil’ bro. Blue just brushed it off like the damn tank he is, saying that it was his fault for getting too close to his room.

We had a meeting afterwards. Vanilla said that bro had to stay in the barn from now on. I almost beat the bastard, but I can’t deny it any longer. Edge has turned completely Feral. 

(There are a few more blotches of faded tears on the edge of the page.)

** Dec 22, 6 atf **

The snow falling is nostalgic, although it is white instead of gray like it was Underground. Edge has settled in the pen, only letting me, Papyrus or Puzzle close. Papyrus is a literal ray of sunshine that he somehow tolerates, and he seem almost afraid of Puzzle, even though he is the kindest of them all. 

He seems to remember who we are, but it is if he is more instinct than monster now. No wonder we call it the Feral Virus. Humans often die when they get it, but if they survive they turn immune. 

** Dec 23, 6 atf **

Those fucking slaves. Throwing shit and manure on my bro? They have a fucking death wish.

I now know why my bro always been so nervous around Puzzle. Watching that smiling tall freak cut the throats of those humans like they were cattle shows how different he actually is from Papyrus.

I almost forget how both he and Skull survived a hell that was far worse than me and my bro lived through.

We gave the last slave that acted up, the leader to Edge. It was… liberating watching him play with him like a cat does with a mouse. I made all the servants watch, to show them what happens when they think that our kindness is a sign of weakness.

**Dec 24, 6 atf **

Merry fucking Gyftmas.

** Feb 12, 7 atf **

Black got himself a Pet. A cute little thing with attitude like no other. He seem to enjoy the distraction, and her need for cleanliness around her seem to get his approval.

Heh, he almost tried to kill me when I started to flirt with her. Fine fine, I get it, she is yours you caffeinated, uppity bitch. 

** July 2nd, 7 atf **

Skull is turning Feral. It was hard noticing due to his wound and how quiet he tends to be, but he has become more and more territorial recently, and he even tried to bite Rus when he shortcutted too close to him.

Vanilla and I started looking for a cure the moment Edge started to show symptoms, but we had no headway so far.

**July 4th, 7 atf **

… I saw Puzzle cry in the kitchen last night when I went to look for some mustard. Black was there, trying his best to comfort him.

…I understand how he feels. When I visit my bro it feels like he doesn’t truly recognize me anymore. It hurts my soul.

July 15th, 7 atf

Skull moved into the barn. He took the largest one, as far away from Edge as possible, in order to not start any fights.

Smart of him, because my bro is territorial to a fault.

In other news, my bro has allowed Blue into the pen, and seems to enjoy his company from time to time.

Blue has decided to become the one to care for those that turn Feral, like the fucking goody two shoes he is.

Of course Stretch did not like this, and for the first time I saw them fight, loudly. Stretch hasn’t left the sheep pen in two days since the fight.

Rus and Puzzle delivers food to him, but when they come back they look like he had been mean as fuck to them.

Maybe I should tell Skull that Stretch has been cursing out Puzzle. He hasn’t turned completely Feral yet, and it would be good for the research… and put that lanky fucker down a few pegs….

Fucking Vanilla laughed at the idea, but said it would not be good if Stretch died. I don’t want to take care of the sheep, they freak me out, and Sans is always stuck in his lab, so he can live.

Aug 14th, 7 atf

…I think I am turning Feral.

There is a urge in my mind, like a fire of… something in my mind.

I told Vanilla, and he seemed to age in front of my eyes. He asked me to fight it as long as possible, and write down all the symptoms that I get.

I have already started a separate journal, writing down everything that happens to me.

I hope that it will help in some way at least.

I am going to treat this like a extra long vacation, if anything I will be finally sleeping as much as I want.

Although if Blue tries to do those exercises he does with Edge I will fucking blast him to pieces. 

 sep 3rd, 7 atf 

…I have to move to the barn.

I am nearing my heat, and I almost went after Black’s Pet.

I held myself back before I did anything, with the help of Puzzle distracting me with his talk about food.

The girl is a sweet one, giving Black the peace he needed from that Hell Underground we both have lived through.

I may be a asshole, but I would never hurt his beloved little Pet willingly. Not even I would go so far.

Luckily she sees me like the perverted, teasing other master, and I will make sure that is how she will remember the non feral me.

If you ever read this girlie, know that what I do as a Feral is not the real me. I would never hurt family by my own will.

sep 9th, 7 atf

This will be my last entry in this journal.

I have chosen my pen and renovated it to my liking.

I took the one between my bro and Skull, because I have to be close to my bro, and I don’t mind Skull. 

There is splotches of tears on this page.)I will never admit it, but I am scared of losing myself. What if that vanilla bastard never finds a cure? What if he gives up? What if I hurt anyone? What if I dust myself, or my own brother?

I hope when I return from my “vacation”, it won’t be too far in the future. One of the few perks being a Boss monster, not aging until we die.

Red out, going on vacation.

[shoichee]

okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)

HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻‍♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here

Akashi x Reader

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints

basically you have crackhands

in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely

you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself

your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder

no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health

Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)

when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.

both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands

both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass

you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support

Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is

you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you

even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces

talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular

you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??

to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball

so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine

picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight

your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive

you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand

Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else

“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”

“Yes, Kise?”

“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”

“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”

“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”

“H-How did you know?!”

“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”

“N-No way!!”

“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”

spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you

one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:

“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”

“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”

“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”

“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”

Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”

and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills

her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills

you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised

it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you

these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer

there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters

after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?

there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory

the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars

Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym

Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)

Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”

Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking

now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well

Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…

Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them

the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder

oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you

you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi

and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi

it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently

so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted

at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)

not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess

Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door

you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart

POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic

that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you

chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions

at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint

Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”

when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion

to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)

they still scolded your ears off:

“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”

“That’s…”

“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”

“Er, no, that’s…”

you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress

you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were

they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)

HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss

especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next

Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later

End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT

[thora-jane]

Twin-Way Mirror pt iii

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 3: The twins help you to get settled and together you catch up on how your summers have been

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,321

female!reader, 2nd person POV

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 1: After recalling how you first met Fred and George, you finally arrive at the burrow and reunite with your favorite twins.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,196

female!reader, 2nd person POV

***

The three soon-to-be fourth years had brought in your things, and as you carried the owl cage and your yarn bag, Fred and George Carried your trunk, navigating up around the narrow bends of the staircases that wove their way through the burrow.

“Ginny offered to have you stay in her room-”

“But Hermione’s already there.”

“Harry’s sharing Ron’s room-”

“And ickle Percykins is too big headed and busy with important ministry work to share his room.”

The two let their conversation bounce back and forth before finishing in unison.

“So you’re staying in our room!”

“Don’t worry,” George nodded seriously as he kicked their door open, “All explosions shall be kept to a minimum, particularly during the wee hours of the night.”

“We understand that beauty sleep is very important to a lady at this stage in life. And we would not want to be the cause of you being any uglier than you already are,” Fred added, mirroring George’s tone as they set down your trunk in their room. After which George promptly smacked him on the head.

“How dare you insult our lovely guest. You foul git, no wonder you’re not her favorite!” You smiled to yourself, placing the cage on the windowsill and your bag on the cot. The two were still shoving each other, but as you turned around you were able to get the first good look at them that you’ve had in months.

They had both shot up so much in the past few months. And their hair, it was even longer than Harry or Ron’s.

It didn’t look too bad, either.

“Careful there, Eros might come back and fly straight into your mouth if you leave it hanging open like that,” George cracked, “Why the open drawbridge?”

You realized you might have been staring for a second, not only that, but your mouth wasn’t exactly closed. You clamped your jaw shut, then opened your mouth again to stammer out, “Your hair’s so...so tall.” You could feel your voice crack at the last word, and you immediately regretted it.

The two boys nearly fell on each other with laughter, gathering up a handful each of their hair and holding it up so it stood on end. Between laughs they both gasped out, “Your HAIR! So TALL!”

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face. Grabbing a pillow off of one of the twin’s beds, you smacked them both with it. But your beating left no impact on their fits of giggles and instead they grabbed you hands and pulled you into a group hug, messing up your hair before you shoved their arms off with a grin and exasperated sigh.

“Shouldn’t we go wash up? I’m starving,” You said, trying to squeeze in between the twins and out the doorway. You paused, turning to the twin nearest to you and leaning up to their face, staring rather closely.

“Urm…(y/n)? What are you doing?” They hesitated, not breaking eye contact, but freezing up when you tucked their hair behind their ear. Your hand lingered slightly as you searched for a cluster of freckles but came up empty.

“Just trying to figure out which one you are. It’s a bit difficult with all that hair. Nice to see you again, Freddie.” You smiled, patting him on the head before heading off to the bathroom to wash up. You couldn’t hear exactly what had happened, but you figured one of them had smacked the other on the head again. It was a wonder no one had ever gotten a concussion with all the smacking and hitting that happened.

***

Dinner with the Weasleys was never a dull moment. Hardly anything was a dull moment with the Weasleys around. Soon enough, the nine of you retired to the living room, where you and Molly sat working on your projects while everyone else buzzed with excitement that you’d be off to the Quidditch World Cup in the morning.

“(y/n), you’re going to love it. It’s Ireland against Bulgaria and for sure Ireland is going to win!” One of the twins exclaimed from their spot behind you. Ron started to argue, going on about how Viktor Krum was far better than all of Ireland put together.

“He’s a fine example of what the true art of Quidditch can be! You of all people would appreciate that, right (y/n)?” Ron pleaded, ignoring Fred and George’s show of swoons and sighs and Ginny’s giggles from her spot on the couch. It was true, you were a fan of Quidditch, but you weren’t quite that great at it, something about it just didn’t quite stick with you.

But in no way were you bad at flying. You were actually fantastic at flying, and you loved it. In your first year of flying courses at Hogwarts, not only had you managed to exceed at flying, but you were also the only one to successfully dabble in broom tricks when Madame Hooch wasn’t looking. Flying wasn’t a game for you, it was more of a dance.

But of course, Quidditch was no dance.

“I’d like to see (y/n) try and play quidditch,” a twin laughed, sitting down next to your spot on the floor, laying back so his head was resting in your lap, “Artfulness only gets you so far, Ronald, but you need more than cool tricks to be good at Quidditch,” He looked up at you, an apologetic grin on his face, “no offense, of course.”

You looked down at him, his hair spread out on your yarn as he smiled up at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment. For a second, everything seemed to go quiet. Of course, it didn’t actually fall quiet, the other Weasleys continued on with the conversation. But you and Fred (your best guess, at least) didn’t say a word as you sat there, looking down at his head in your lap. It was the quietest he had been since before dinner. His face seemed so patient, like he wasn’t going to say anything until you said something first, like he was waiting for you to do something, or come up with some sort of response.

You felt your face get warmer, and your mind quickly made the excuse that the cause was from his breath. After all, his face was close enough to yours that you could feel him breathing on you.

You shrugged off the thought that this interaction held any particular meaning as you stuck out your tongue and poked him in the nose with your hook, “Get outta my face, Fred,” you retorted, biting back a smile.

He shot back to sitting in front of you, turning around so he could face you again as he leaned in with a frown, “Come now, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings but there’s no need to call me ugly! We both know you could make it onto the team if Oliver wasn’t such a stiff and Harry wasn’t an insufferable golden boy.”

You paused, setting down your yarn and hook. In the background you thought you heard Harry object to the twin’s comment, but you paid more attention to the face of the boy in front of you, tucking his long hair behind his ear and tilting his head in order to get a good look behind his ear. Freckles.

“My apologies, George,” you answered, not moving your hand from the side of his face.

“None taken, my fine lady friend,” He smiled, keeping his head still, “After all, noticing the subtle differences and nuanced signs of beauty is a skill that is only acquired through rigorous practice.”

You smirked, debating whether to move your hand or not. You could almost swear he was leaning into your touch, but you ignored the thought, “I take it you’ve had the practice?”

“Oh, years of it,” he winked. He opened his mouth again to say something else, but before he had the chance, Mr. and Mrs. Weasely stood up, announcing that they were off to bed.

“You kids ought to get some rest too, we leave bright and early tomorrow morning,” Mr. Weasely said, glancing over at all of you, “We’re meeting up with the Diggorys and it’s best not to keep Amos waiting.”

Shortly after, Ginny and Hermione got up and said their goodnights. Then Harry and Ron. After that, it was just you and the twins sitting around in the living room, with George had draped himself across the couch, Fred sitting on the floor leaning against the chair, and you sitting in the middle of the floor, lying on your back with your arms tucked behind your head.

“What about your summer, (y/n)? You’ve been awfully quiet about what you’ve been up to the past few months,” George asked lazily, his hand tucked under his chin as he watched you work at the lion's hat.

“Oh, not much. A bit of reading, a bit of yarn work, letter writing. Also having my parents pester me about studying traditional school subjects, but that’s nothing new,” You sighed, craning your neck to look back at him, “I don’t lead as exhilarating a life as you guys think I do.”

But George didn’t really seem to hear that last bit, “I don’t get it. You’re a witch. You’ve spent the past five years learning magic, wouldn’t those be your traditional subjects? That doesn’t really make sense. And besides, what if you decide to live fully in our world? Muggle University wouldn’t do you that much good, would it?” He rolled off the couch and laid down next to you, “I mean, say you were to live with us for the rest of your life. It wouldn’t matter much how in depth you know the muggle world, right?”

You paused, setting your project down on your chest, “I suppose you’re right,” you sighed, stretching your arms in front of you before placing them at your side, “But good luck explaining that to my mum and dad.”

“And what if we did?” Fred piped up, crawling over to be with the two of you, “What would they do? Not charm us with their lack of magic? How threatening! Oh, hold me (y/n) I’m quivering in my socks!” He declared, grabbing your hand and hugging it to his chest, “Will they dare recite their ‘traditional muggle subjects’ at me? How terrible!”

You laughed not pulling away as you waved your free hand dramatically in front of the three of you, “Traffic regulations! Basic laws of parliament! Analysis of English literature! Taxes! Maths!”

“Oh! I’m so scared!” he cried in a high-pitched voice, holding your hand tighter as he curled up into your side, “Don’t let them take me, (y/n)!” he mumbled into your shoulder. You couldn’t tell if he was laughing, or fake crying. Either way, you chuckled a bit before leaning your head against his with a sigh.

“I mean it though,” George started again as he rolled onto his front and stared up at the empty fireplace, “If you stayed with us in the wizarding world, would they still make you go to a muggle university?”

You looked at him thoughtfully before reaching up and ruffling his hair, “I’m not sure, Georgie. I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah?” He looked down at you and stuck out his tongue, which you took as an agreement, before looking back to the clock.

“It is rather late, isn’t it?” you asked. Before he could respond, Fred started fake-snoring into your shirt sleeve, having not moved from when he curled up in the first place.

“Oh shut up, you big baby,” George rolled his eyes, nudging his brother’s head with his foot, “I’m going to bed. If this menace gives you any heartache just holler for your knight in shining armor and I’ll send mum to get his arse.” Fred mumbled something into your shoulder, hugging you close as George lightly kicked him again.

After George had started upstairs, you tilted your head to face Fred, “Do you plan on moving anytime soon, Freddie?” You smiled as he pulled you closer, mumbling something again before looking up at you.

“What if I’m already asleep?’’ he asked, a stupid grin on his face, “What would you do then? Awake a sleeping beauty? You wouldn’t. Would you?” he leaned up and kissed your forehead, “that would be a crime.”

For a second you could have sworn your heart stopped. You guys didn’t do kisses, did you? Mrs. Weasley did, and you once kissed Ron and Percy on the cheek as a joke. But you and the twins never did kisses. Was this a new thing? It might be. Part of you hoped it was.

You paused, several questions bubbling up in your mind. It was then that you noticed the look on Fred’s face, his brow furrowed and his eyes were scanning your face, “You alright, (y/n)?” He seemed nervous, and you could feel his arms pull back slightly.

After a moment, you smiled and sat up, “Never better. I am a bit tired though, and we have to get up early. We ought to go to bed, right?” You stood up, brushing back your hair before gathering up your project and stuffing it into your bag.

The two of you quietly began your way upstairs, his arm over your shoulder. You opened the door as quietly as you could, tip-toeing past George’s bed and over to your trunk, rifling through the dark to find a t-shirt and some sweatpants and heading off to the bathroom to change.

You were nearly out the door when a tired voice yawned from under blankets, “Goodnight, (y/n). Sweet dreams.”

You turned back, smiling, though you were sure he couldn’t see you. “Goodnight, Georgie. I’ll see you in the morning.”