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keiichikuzuryuwu · 3 years ago

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Place Your Bets

Implied (Future) Keiichi Kuzuryuu x Reader

Summary: This is a reimagining of the manga’s version of the Four of Clubs game, featuring a very stubborn, very smart mother hen Y/N instead of a gentle girl.

A/N: I have literally never seen anyone write for Kuzuryuu and that made me sad, because I love him. Also I know very little about how to actually take care of a baby so please be forgiving.

TW: Blood, leg injury, a crying baby

Walking along a deserted street, a man in a hat was making his way toward tonight’s game. Based on his body language, you would think he didn’t want to go, but in honesty, he was tentatively looking forward to it.

“Oh my god, another person!!” The voice of a woman caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from the lights in the distance. As he looked over, he took note of how clean she was, all glow and innocence compared to the world around her- a new arrival, clearly. But what truly surprised him was the fact that she was carrying a sleeping baby in her arms. It was rare to come across a child here, much less a baby. Perhaps it was her’s, which was why she hadn’t abandoned it yet, “You wouldn’t happen to be this baby’s father, would you? Or at the very least have seen anyone who could possibly be their parents?”

So it wasn’t her’s. The man wondered how long it would be until she gave up on it.

“No, sorry. I’m on my way to a game, so if you’ll excuse me,” He tipped his hat and took a step, only to feel his arm grabbed.

“Wait, what game? Should I be heading there too?”

“You… don’t know about the games? Are you new here?” He already knew the answer, but no point in signaling that to her. She may end up a Heart Specialist and get into his head, after all.

“Yes, actually! One moment, I was going to meet up with my friends, and the next, the entirety of Shibuya was powered down and empty except me and this little one here,” So she’d walked all this way from Shibuya in just a few hours? Maybe a Spades Specialist, then.

“Well then you should come with me. We need to get you registered for a game so you don’t end up a day one victim.”

“Woah, what?? Day one victim??” The color drained from her face, before she grabbed his hand and began walking, “What and where is this game? Is it Trivial Pursuit? Because I’m really good at Trivial Pursuit! Wait, but that’s a one winner game and this is looking more and more like the set up for a death game manga but in real life,” She looked back at him, “Did I get stuck in a death game manga but in real life?”

“Um…” He didn’t really know how to respond to this woman. Regaining his wits, he caught up to her brisk pace and pointed in the direction of the lights, “See those lights? That’s where the closest game is. And, yes, you unfortunately did…”

“Brilliant, let’s go,” She still held onto his hand as they walked, confusing the man. They were complete strangers and he’d just told her that she was walking towards her probable death, yet she continued to hold his hand as though they were allies.

Walking up to the glowing tunnel, the man spotted the registration phones on a table, three of them already missing. The already registered participants were scattered nearby, looking at them strangely. Did they perhaps think he, this woman, and the baby were a family? The thought almost flustered him.

“So what do I do?” The woman asked him when they got over to the table, “Just take one of these phones?”

“Yes, here,” Handing her one, he watched as she tapped to turn it on.

“I don’t like the fact that this facial recognition already had me registered with an ID number,” She scoffed, putting the phone in her skirt’s pocket before hesitating, “Wait, do I need to register this baby too? I mean, obviously I’m not gonna abandon it, but… they’re a baby, they can’t really play a game.”

“No, unfortunately they need to be registered… Here,” Picking up another phone, he held it up to the face of the babe, the ping of the completed registration sounding a moment later, “You keep hold of this one too, since you’re holding the baby.”

“Alright, sounds good to me,” Placing the other phone in her pocket, she cooed at the baby, “You better hope this isn’t Trivial Pursuit or I’m gonna have to kick your butt, baby~ That’s right, that’s right~”

“Please don’t taunt the baby like that. It’s… unnerving…” Nervously pulling on his collar, the man was surprised when she just laughed.

“Sorry, I cope with stress by joking around…” She placed a hand on the back of her neck as they walked over to the others, “The only way this baby isn’t surviving is if it’d be better to do a mercy killing. Other than that, I’m fighting tooth and nail to make sure they get through this with me.”

“You for real??” One of the men closest to them, with spiked, pitch dark hair, scoffed, “You really think you can keep a baby alive here? Put yourself first if you wanna live, lady!”

“Come on, don’t say that!” The woman snapped back, before taking a breath and calming down, “Here, how about we start over and introduce ourselves?”

“This could be a Hearts game, or the rules could state we need to kill each other,” The only other woman there, a stark, gothic contrast to the Mori girl aesthetic of the woman with the baby, stated coldly, “I’ll pass.”

“One minute until registration closes,” A calm, female voice suddenly came from all of their phones, startling the woman with the baby.

“Huh?” Taking out her phone, she looked it over, “Guess it speaks too… These are my least favorite part of this nightmare so far,” Then, she took note of the camera app, “Ooh! Hey, wanna take a selfie?”

“You want to… take a selfie with me?” The man she’d arrived with questioned her, utterly befuddled by this woman.

“Yeah, come on! This might be the last chance we ever get to take a good picture!” Moving in close, she held up the phone, making sure to get both them and the still sleeping baby in the shot, “Awesome! Thanks for indulging my possibly last request!”

“You are way too chipper, lady,” A new man spoke as he walked up. Short cropped hair with designs buzzed into it and a mean face, this man screamed gangster. In reaction, the woman held the baby tighter.

“Entry has now closed,” The phones spoke again, “There are a total of seven participants. Please proceed into the tunnel.”

“I just hope it’s not Spades… I’m not very good at physical games…” The man in the hat grumbled, causing the woman to raise an eyebrow as they walked into the tunnel. About 100 feet in, the woman suddenly stopped, “What’s the matter?”

“I hear something…” Straining her ears for a moment, she suddenly looked up at the top of the tunnel’s entrance.

“Wha?! What the hell?!” Just as the words left spiky haired man’s lips, a barrier fell from the ceiling, creating debris and, more importantly, blocking them in.

“UWAAAHHH!!!!” The baby had woken up due to the world shaking from the force of the barrier’s impact with the ground, only for the woman to pull out a pacifier from her purse and stick it in the infant’s mouth.

“Thank goodness I thought to grab that…”

“W-We’re trapped in??” Goth woman shouted, panic taking over, “But that isn’t the standard!!”

“Guess they really don’t want us to be able to choose the coward’s way out this game…” Gangster guy placed his hand on the wall.

“ARGHH!!” Everyone’s attention was directed to the man in the hat, who was sitting on the ground, blood gushing from his leg, “Some rubble… it went into my leg!!”

“On no!!” The woman with the baby was the first to react, rushing over to him, “Hold the baby, we need to wrap this up and restrict the blood flow!”

“O-Okay…!” Carefully, he took the baby, doing his best not to shake as she took an extra baby blanket out of her bag and used it to create a makeshift cotton bandage.

As she worked, their phones chimed again- “The game will now commence. Difficulty: Four of Clubs. Game: Runaway. Rule: Endure the four trials and reach the goal within the time limit. Clear condition: Reach the goal safely.”

“Trials? Goal? What’s it talking about?” The goth woman mumbled.

“It looks like these are the trials it’s referring to…” At a man in glasses words, everyone turned around and saw what he meant.

In the floor, walls, and ceiling were various doors and hatches. The first door was in a wall, marked ‘Trial One,’ with a timer stating the lock released in fifteen minutes. Next to that, several round hatches labeled ‘Trial Two’ were going to release in thirty minutes. Trial Three’s vents in the ceiling were releasing in forty five, and Four’s hatch on the floor was set to release in an hour.

Spiky haired man noticed a placard on the wall by Door One, and walked over to inspect it.

“The distance to the goal is written here… But I can’t read the most important part. Damnit…” Sure enough, where the number should be, instead was worn down metal.

Looking down at the ground somberly, Glasses stated, “A conjecture… ‘Runaway’ means to flee… Something will come out of each of these four doors after a delay. Perhaps it means we should run towards the goal while running away? If the fourth lock opens after an hour, and we were to run for that amount of time, then the distance to the goal is around ten kilometers…”

“Ten??”

“Game… start.”

At that moment, the timers started counting down, and their phones switched to an hour long timer as well.

“Ten kilometers in an hour is cutting it too close! We can’t afford to waste a second!” With that, everyone save the woman with the baby and the man in the hat started running.

“Can you stand?” The woman asked him as she took the baby back, genuinely concerned about this stranger.

“With help, I think I should be able to…”

“Hey, you lot! Care to help a lady out??”

“I make no promises that I’ll hold on to you till the end…” The gangster helped lift the man to allow the woman to continue carrying the baby safely.

“Thank you in the meantime…” The man got out through labored breaths as they walked.

Within the first five minutes, everyone reached a bus covered in graffiti, the first car they had seen since the game began. By the time the man, woman, and gangster got there, it seemed their fellow players had exhausted it.

“There’s nothing here except junk, and it’s not going no matter how hard I hit the gas!!!” Spiky hair complained as glasses looked underneath the bus.

“The belt is cut, that’s why. Looks like this isn’t meant to be our method of transportation…” Getting up, he began running, “Looks like we have to run! We lost time here, so let’s hurry!”

“Gaaah!! I’m at my limit… There’s no way I could run…” The man in the hat groaned, “Don’t worry about me anymore, you all should hurry on ahead…”

“But-!”

“It’s like he says,” Goth woman cut off the other, “The first trial is about to start… In order to survive in these Borderlands, sometimes we have to do callous things. If you don’t learn that quick, you won’t be long for this world,” With that, she began running as well.

For a moment, the man, woman, and gangster didn’t move, until the gangster helped the man over to the first step of the bus and set him down before walking away.

“You too??” The woman angrily called out after him, “You’re going to desert us??”

“I tried helping… But now, things have changed…” He picked up speed, quickly catching up to the others.

“Selfish cowards!!” She yelled, shaking her fist at them. Sighing, she turned to the man, “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Are you sure? You should go run-”

“Nuh uh. I’ve decided I’m staying here, so I’m staying here,” Scooting around him, the woman gently placed the baby into the dip of the driver’s seat before helping the man up and to a seat so he could prop up his leg, “Let’s see…”

“What are you doing?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her go up and down the bus.

“In order to slow the flow of blood more until we can get you help, we need to raise your leg. By doing that, the blood will- Here-” She took the baby and handed them to him again before looking around more, “The blood won’t be able to pump up there as fast, and it should give us some wiggle room.”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable about this. Are you perhaps a doctor?”

“Hah, no, I just remember a lot. Picked this up from a medical book I read when I was sixteen for fun. I’m actually a Masters student working towards simultaneous degrees in Psychology and Religion with a focus in cults,” Before the man could comment on how impressive that was, the woman sighed, “I’ve found a Japanese to English dictionary, a space heater, a set of keys that turn on this motionless bus, and a gum wrapper, but nothing to prop up your leg,” Sitting in the chair across the row from him, the woman took the baby back and gently bounced it, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens…”

“I’m sorry I’ve dragged you down with me…”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand dismissively, “I’m not much of a runner, and I’ve got this little angel to look after. There’s no way I could run to some mysterious goal even if I wanted to. Besides…” Her eyes shifted back and forth before leaning in and dropping her voice as though they were being watched, “Something about this game is striking me as odd.”

“What do you mean?” The man leaned in as best as he could, voice dropping as well.

“Before I tell you my theory, could you explain what exactly the card level of this game means? You said you hoped this game wasn’t Spades because you weren’t good at physical games, while the woman stated we shouldn’t tell each other our names in case it was a Hearts game. That means the different suits represent different types of games, while the number represents how hard it is, right?”

“You picked that up quickly. Most people don’t realize that their first game, it generally takes someone explaining it to them their second or third game for them to get it,” Thinking for a moment, he nodded, “Very well, since we’re going to be here for at least an hour, I’ll tell you. Yes, the number on the card connotes how hard the game will be, with Ace being the easiest, while King is the hardest. As for the suits- Spades represent physical games, lots of moving around and exertion. Diamond games are intelligence and wit based games, and are the least physically demanding. If you were to find a game of Trivial Pursuit here, it would fall into that suit.”

“I see,” She sounded enraptured.

“Hearts,” He paused, considering his words, “They’re psychological games… They mess with your mind and your morals, and are widely regarded as the most brutal of the four suits. If possible, you do not want to join a Hearts game.”

“And Clubs?”

“Clubs games like this one refer to team battles and a mix of the other’s elements. It’s an unofficial rule that there is always a total win scenario, that it’s possible for all participants to make it out alive.”

“Then that puts us at an advantage!” She nodded decisively, “If Clubs are a team battle, then by sticking together, we have a better chance at survival!”

“But we’re just sitting in a bus?”

“Look mister, I’m trying to remain positive here, so if you could work with me a little?”

“Alright, alright,” The man put his hands up, chuckling. From the sound of it, it was an unfamiliar noise to come from his mouth, “We’re at an advantage because we stuck together while the others are only thinking of themselves.”

“That’s the spirit!” She held out her hand for a fist bump, which the man would have returned, had it not been for the bus suddenly lurching forward, “The hell??”

“UWAAHHH!!!” The motion woke up the baby again, but neither the man or the woman had time to calm them down again, as water was quickly rising around their enclosure and leaking in through some gaps in the windows.

“Oh no, you take Yuuji, I’ll stop the water!” Handing the baby to the man, the woman began to shed layers of clothes, using her jacket, cardigan, tights to plug the gaps. In the end, she was left in just a camisole and her torn up skirt, having even used parts of that to slow the water, “There, that should keep us relatively dry as long as the water goes down soon.”

“You called the child ‘Yuuji,’” The man commented, a bit surprised.

“Huh? I did, didn’t I?” Laughing sheepishly, the woman sat back down, “Don’t know why, they’re not my kid. I don’t even know if they’re male or female.”

“Well, I suppose they do look like a Yuuji,” He looked down at where he was bouncing the slightly calmer baby on his shoulder, “Can I ask why you chose to take this baby with you? You even grabbed their diaper bag.”

“Guess I felt bad about them being abandoned by their parents,” She shrugged, “Something just told me I needed to hold onto them and protect them; which makes no sense, given that it’s not like I grew up with great parental role models.”

“Maybe you just possess a natural maternal instinct, bad parents or not.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’re right.”

For several minutes, neither of them said anything as the man calmed down the baby, lulling them back to sleep.

“It seems as though the water is going down,” The man finally commented, the woman looking out the window to see that they were no longer surrounded.

“Yeah, but now it seems like the temperature is dropping fast!” The woman was right, the air was indeed getting colder, “I’ll go turn on that space heater before Yuuji wakes up again!”

“Sounds good to me.”

With the space heater on, the bus quickly warmed back up, keeping the baby asleep in the man’s arms.

“This cold must be the… how much time has passed?” Looking at her phone’s timer, the woman's brow furrowed, “Forty five minutes?? When the heck did the first trial happen??”

“We must have missed it somehow while we were talking.”

“Weird. Maybe it just passed right by us,” The woman didn’t let it bother her too much, just grateful to have not had to deal with it. Silence passed for a few more minutes as the woman held the baby, before she spoke again, “Okay, something’s been on my mind for the last half an hour, and I gotta know before we die… You were totally faking your personality when we got here, right?”

“H-Huh??” The man’s eyes widened, and he could feel his pulse quicken.

“Acting timid and stuff. Fake, right?”

“I… I…” Sighing, he looked her in the eyes, “How’d you know?”

“I sorta guessed around the time you told me about the suits. Your speech pattern started getting more eloquent, your sentences became longer, and you didn’t bat an eye at the fact that I’m working towards two Masters degrees at the same time. That last thing doesn’t really have to do with the timid thing, but it did tell me that you’re smarter than you seemed. That accident with your leg was very real, something you didn’t account for that truly did leave you near helpless; but before that, it was all strategy so we’d underestimate you in case this turned out to be a single winner game.”

“That’s… phenomenally impressive,” He stared at her in awe, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I’ve been having fun talking with you and didn’t want to make it awkward,” Laughing, she shrugged, “But my natural curiosity got the better of me. I want to die with as few regrets as possible, and I’d regret not getting to see your actual personality,” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kissed the top of the baby’s head, “I hope however this ends is clean and painless. I doubt it would happen, but if my family were to ever find my body, I wouldn’t want their last image of me to be tainted by something like decapitation, y’know?”

“Yes, I… I understand,” Moving closer, the man took the woman’s hand and squeezed it gently, “I promise you, if we survive this, I’ll do whatever I can to help you survive long enough to reunite with your family.”

“Aww, thanks,” She smiled sadly at him, “That means a lot. You’re a really nice guy, even if you are a crafty strategist.”

“I-”

KABOOM!!!!

An explosion violently shook the bus, causing the baby to once again wake up and cry.

“Quickly, on the ground!” The man pulled the woman and baby into his arms and got on the ground, shielding them with his body as the bus continued to shake. It seemed to go on forever, the shaking, as the bus grew warmer and warmer, far warmer than the heat the space heater would have been able to produce. But, finally, the shaking did stop, and the world became quiet outside of the baby’s cries, “Are you two alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so,” After she was helped up by the man, the woman grabbed the baby’s pacifier and returned it to their mouth, “That was the fourth trial, right?”

“I believe so,” He nodded, looking out the window, “All I can see are scorch marks, so I can’t tell, though.”

A little fanfare like tune emitting from their phones answered them, however.

“Game clear. Congratulations! To the survivors of the game, we will now supply you with a Visa.”

“G-Game clear?” The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, “You mean… we won? But that would mean…” Handing the baby to the man, she threw open the door to the bus and hopped out, running around the bus, almost immediately spotting the confirmation she sought, “The goal… It was the bus…”

“It was the bus??” The man limped out of the bus, handing the woman the baby due to feeling shaky as he saw what she’d found, “The graffiti… G-O-A-L… Dear lord…”

“Your injury saved us,” Tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks as she suddenly hugged the man, laughing almost manically, “It saved us! I don’t normally believe in luck, but tonight I think I’ll make an exception!”

“I can’t believe it, though! You were right!” The man laughed as well, “We stuck together as a team instead of only thinking of ourselves, and we survived!”

“Wait- oh no!” Pulling away, the woman frowned, “Those poor people that ran on ahead!! They… If the trials didn’t kill them, then… what did?”

“Anyone who breaks a rule like leaving an arena before the game is over or doesn’t achieve game clear… They’re struck down by a laser from the sky…” His words cause the woman to gasp, a hand covering her mouth, “I hope for their sake, their deaths were as clean and painless as the one you had wished for…”

Taking his hand, she squeezed it gently, “I’ll carry their memories with me, and push forward. As ill as they treated us, I can only hope that wherever they are, they find peace.”

“You’re an incredibly kind woman, Miss…?”

“Oh wow, we never did introduce ourselves, huh? If we’re gonna be sticking together, we should probably at least know the other’s name,” Wiping away her tears, she laughed, “My name is Y/N L/N, Y/A years old, Masters student, and guardian of this little angel until further notice. It’s nice to meet you, Mister…?”

“Kuzuryuu. Keiichi Kuzuryuu, 37 years old, attorney at law, and Diamond Specialist here in the Borderlands. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss L/N.”

“Please, we just nearly died together! You can call me Y/N. Mind if I call you Kuzu?” She looked at him so hopefully that he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse her.

“Alright, you may call me ‘Kuzu’… Y/N.”

“Excellent! Now let’s get out of this place! I’m tired and we need to get you off that leg.”

“I believe I saw a furniture store near here that we could use as shelter before finding something better tomorrow,” He offered as she helped him limp out of the tunnel, the barrier to the outside having been blown off in the explosion.

“Perfect, let’s go there. There’s some supplies to take care of Yuuji in this diaper bag I grabbed, but we’ll need to find some more tomorrow as well.”

“Sounds good to me.”

An hour later, as Y/N and Yuuji slept soundly in one of the spacious beds on display in the furniture store, Kuzuryuu stood outside and pulled out a walkie talkie.

“HQ, please respond. This is Four of Club’s observer, Kuzuryuu,” Taking off his hat, he pushed back his hair and slipped on his glasses, “Surviving players- two of six. Dispatch the cleanup squad to deal with the disposal of tools and materials.”

“Copy that, sir. Anything else?”

“Yes… Tell the others I won’t be back for a while,” He looked back through the doors to where Y/N and Yuuji slept, a small smile on his lips, “I have a player I’d like to place my bets on.”

Y/N L/N

Clubs Specialist

End of Day One of Sojourn

#alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #kuzuryuu keiichi #keiichi kuzuryu x reader #alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #fanfic #headcanon #scenario #aib scenarios

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saffron-nova21 · 4 years ago

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X. Meeting the Team Pt. 2

The Next Chapter Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • You Are Here • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language, a depiction of a panic attack and the reader's panic, mentions of Oikawa having a knee injury and panic attacks, reader yells at Kuroo.

A/N: By the way, please don't hate me for giving Kuroo a Camaro, I know literally nothing about cars, I'll call myself out so you don't have to.

Stepping out of Kuroo's sleek black 2013 Camaro, your eyes look at the large gym, the sound of volleyballs hitting hardwood floors bringing back memories for you. Glancing out of the corner of your eyes, towards your taller friend, you remembered the last time you'd walked into an unfamiliar gym. You'd met people who you'd made life-long friends with and he'd helped you get out of an awful situation.

Kuroo, Kenma, Lev, and... Well, really, the majority of the Nekoma High and Fukurōdani Academy volleyball clubs... They'd helped you realize when you needed to put your foot down and start looking out for yourself, rather than worrying about stepping on people's toes. While yes, you had lost two of the most important people in your life, by doing so, you also met quite a few people who truly were looking out for you and your happiness.

Did you hate Atsumu and Suna for the way they treated you? No. They both did a lot of damage, through their words and actions. But, at the end of the day, you'd all been so much younger and you weren't going to waste the rest of your life, hating people who weren't even in the picture, anymore. Or so, you thought.

You didn't ever intend or want to see them again, after the emotional turmoil they'd put you through. Little did Kuroo know just how badly you would respond to seeing them again.

"Are you going to stand there and keep reminiscing over when you met me, or are you going to walk inside and make some new friends?" The teasing smirk on Kuroo's lips only reminded you of the fact that even though he was pretty much a mother to you and Kenma, he was a teasing asshole. He knew how to press all of the right buttons and it would never fail to piss you off.

Walking forward, Kuroo walks forward and grasps the handle of the door, opening it for you. You don't hesitate to begin walking into the gym, flipping Kuroo off on your way. "You talk to me like a preschooler, y'know. And you wonder why Kenma calls you mom behind your back."

Stepping into the gym, you were in awe of your surroundings. Sure, this was an Olympic-level gym, but it looked far too pretty and clean to be a place for as grueling a training regimen as you could assume these athletes were put through.

What you were most pleased to find was that it didn't reek of sweat and floor mats. Instead, it had an almost fresh smell to it. It was partitioned up into three different rooms, as far as you could tell. The largest room was the one you were standing in currently, a weight room; different machinery is scattered neatly around the room and you notice that several ceiling-to-floor mirrors are lining the walls for the boys to observe their form while they work. Across from the door you'd just entered through was a wall of glass, which you could only hope was reinforced, and on the other side was a true volleyball gym, where you could see a few people working on their spikes, even if you couldn't quite make out who they were yet. The last room was closed off and much smaller than the other two, so you assumed it to be where the showers and changing room were located.

"Your highness!" You hear a familiar voice, turning to see Iwaizumi approaching you with a snarky grin, a small white towel hanging from around his neck. He wore a sleeveless grey shirt, only bringing more attention to his defined biceps. Sweats drip down his temple and you find yourself a bit embarrassed when you notice his lip still shows signs of the damage you'd done, the day prior. "So kind of you to finally join us."

Despite the lack of a real smile on his face, one of your own tugged at your lips, knowing that he was only teasing you. "You know, Iwa, you could always just admit that you missed me." Sending a wink his way, you notice that a few of the men are stopping what they're doing to look towards you, their attention captured by how loud Iwaizumi had previously been.

"Baby owl!" You can only brace yourself as you hear the former captain shout to you, knowing he was one for hugs. You didn't quite expect to be scooped up off of your feet. Laughter escapes you as Bokuto spins you around, practically bouncing up and down in joy that you were here. "You missed my spikes, earlier! They were so good, they were so good! They even would have made Akaashi proud!"

As Bokuto places you back down on the ground, some of the other boys are starting to approach, a few looking concerned by the way you gripped Bokuto's shoulder to steady yourself. And though you weren't paying attention to who it was, the three who'd been in the area of the gym and net had entered the weight area and gone for their towels and water bottles.

After you manage to shake yourself out of your dizzied state, you look at Bokuto with a smile. "Yeah, Bo? Well, you'll have to show me some more, later, yeah?"

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you spot Iwaizumi staring at you, brows pinching together in slight concern for your wellbeing. He places a bottle of water in your hands, before looking a the excited, silver-haired volleyball player, "Let's be careful, Bokuto. It's only their first day."

"They're looking a little dizzy, Bokuto. You might want to refrain from doing that in the future." The deep voice catches you off-guard, eyes flicking towards the very, very tall, scary man, now standing beside Bokuto.

He wasn't just tall, but he had quite a lot of muscle to his frame, giving him the build of a fucking giant. With wide eyes, you look him over. Despite his size, upon closer examination, he seemed a lot gentler than you might've previously mistaken him for. Kind eyes like that didn't belong to someone who would snap you in two... Right? Your eyes move away from his face, trailing down his body. From strong-looking biceps to defined thighs, the man seemed like a machine, more than anything. He couldn't actually be real, right?

"The fuck are you guys feeding him? Holy shit, hi there, B-F-G." You nod towards him, "Is your hair green or brown, because I'm looking at it and I'm gonna be honest, it's confusing me about as much as that Karasuno kid's did. Holy shit, I think I'm haunted by those memories." A mock shudder runs down your spine.

While Bokuto and Kuroo are used to your trailing off-topic, Ushijima looks confused, the poor thing. "What is a... B-F-G?"

"Big friendly giant. It's what they used to call this tall-ass first year who went to volleyball club with us, as well. You should feel special, Ushiwaka."

"Oh my fuck, Yaku, is that you? You got taller! That's criminal. You were my short king!" A pout graces your lips, while you step forward to give your old friend a large hug.

While Yaku hasn't found himself looking an insane amount taller, he did gain a bit of height since his time in high school. He stood in front of you, a hand resting on the back of his neck and his shoulders drawn back. He'd always had this feel-good, confident aura about him and it was something you'd always deeply respected about him. It was good to see that hadn't gone away.

After a brief hug, Yaku opens his mouth to speak, only for Kuroo to beat him to it. "I thought that was Kenma?"

Sighing, you roll your eyes. "I had to put Kenma in a different bracket, or else he would very easily surpass all of you in everything. I mean come on now, this is Kenma we're talking about," you muse with a self-satisfied smirk, making Kuroo raise an eyebrow.

Though, unbeknownst to you were the thoughts going through Kuroo's head. If only you knew why Kenma did all of the things that he did for you.

"I'm so excited to be working with you guys," a grin makes its way onto your lips as you clasp your hands together in front of you in excitement.

The smile that spread over your lips was contagious, even making Ushijima crack a small smile of his own. Out of anyone Kuroo had known, even with your aggression and the talking you'd do when you got excited, you were one of those people who people couldn't help but find themselves drawn to. And none of the men in the gym were able to quite explain why they found you as endearing as they did. Maybe it was the fact that you most certainly had no filter, whatsoever.

Bokuto places his hands on your shoulders, looking at the others on his team, "They're such a good player, guys! They could have gone pro if they wanted to! They have the best jump-float I've ever seen!" His loud bragging unknowingly catches the attention of the three final members of this group, who'd been caught up in conversation and getting a drink of water.

Yaku juts his chin out a bit and if you hadn't known him as well, you'd have thought the look he gave you was downright scrutinizing. But, being the person you were, and him being the person he was, you knew that he only took Bokuto's words as a challenge. "Oh yeah? Then that should be good practice for our receivers and I."

"If you needed service aces to practice on, you could have just asked, Mori! I wouldn't have minded helping you out, outside of my work hours." You smile as you look towards the libero, "I've been needing to get out of the apartment, for a while. Even Kenma can only handle so much of my dumbass."

Ushijima's curiosity gets the best of him and he cocks his head to the side, wondering what profession you'd chosen, rather than a career in volleyball. And so, yet again, Yaku is beaten to the chase, Ushijima speaking before the smaller man can get his mouth open. "What do you work as?"

"Youtuber some days, but twitch streamer, more often than not." Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to smile, "My roommate got me into it, actually, and from there, it became a profession for the both of us. Though he's got a dozen other jobs as well, it's pretty amazing."

A hand comes to ruffle your hair and after quickly identifying it as Kuroo's you lean into the display of affection. "We're talking about you, not Kenma."

"Speaking of," Bokuto speaks, even though it has nothing to do with the topic at hand, and his hands come up to guide your shoulders in the direction of the gym, "You need to set for me!"

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows, looking impressed, "You can set, as well?"

Nodding excitedly, you dive into an explanation, stopping before Bokuto can steal you away, "Yeah, I play a lot of different positions, actually. My ex-boyfriend was a middle blocker, my childhood friends were a setter and a spiker, and my older brother was an outside hitter - plus, he was amazing at defense, so he helped me a lot with perfecting my service aces when I played in high school. So you can say I was always a well-rounded player."

"Not to mention that you and that ex-boyfriend of yours were almost unbeatable, together. Almost." A warily familiar voice came from behind you, making you look back and grin from ear to ear.

The germaphobe had hardly changed, since high school. He was as tall as ever with a good build to him - only befitting for a volleyball player. As well kept as ever, he stood in front of you, reminding you of the number of times you'd ended up facing him across a net, years before. Though, unlike back then, now you were able to look towards one another for a friendship rather than a healthy rivalry.

"Why if it isn't Sakusa Kiyoomi. It's been forever!" With a questioning glance thrown your way by none other than Bokuto, you explain. "When I was at Inarizaki, we played against Itachiyama all of the time. Kiyoomi and I traded numbers after we bonded over our hatred of large crowds."

Sakusa lets a small uncharacteristic smile slip onto his lips as he glances towards Bokuto, "We haven't really kept in contact, but they'll be a welcome challenge, on the court, again."

"Is that a certain germaphobe of ours... Smiling? Omi! I didn't know you could do that! I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks!"

That voice. Why was he here? Your body goes stiff underneath Bokuto's touch, making the large male draw back to check on you, eyebrows pulled together in concern, until he spots what, or rather who you're staring at.

Because there the two are, standing in all of their glory. Suna Rintarō and Miya Atsumu. They didn't look all that different from the last time you'd seen them. Even though, it'd been what? Nine years?

By the way you go rigid, Suna's eyes drop to the floor, almost guiltily. It had been nine years and you still hated them. Though, he supposed they both deserved it. When you'd told them that you were leaving Inarizaki, they made your life even worse than what it had been. They gave you absolutely every reason to leave, rather than try to convince you to stay.

Before anyone can say anything, you catapult yourself into the air in an attempt to flee the building, much resembling a cat. You just, bolted in the first route you saw working and that was apparently through the air. Kuroo had to jerk you into his chest before you could face-plant to get you to calm down for a second. Sakusa narrowed his eyes as he looked between Suna and Atsumu - had they really been so awful to you?

"I quit. I'm not gonna do it." Your words sounded childish, you knew that but you didn't care, shaking your head as you pull yourself away from Kuroo, having half a mind to leave and not talk to any of the men here ever again. Well, more two of them, than anything else. Though, as you pull away, it dawns on you: was this why he had been so dead-set on you coming to 'help the team out?' With this question in mind, you turn around to face Kuroo. "Did you know they were going to be here?" When he doesn't respond, you feel your breath catch in your throat. The air you were breathing felt heavy inside your chest. He couldn't do that to you - he wouldn't. You flex your hands a bit - everything wasn't actually crumbling. Just remember what Kenma said... Breath...

You can't find the words or guts to continue until he reaches for you, anger quickly rising. What made him think he had any right to comfort you when he'd put you in this situation? "Do you not remember any of what happened in high school? Do you not remember how he," pointing a dramatic finger at Suna, "manipulated me? How bad he hurt me, more than once?"

"Do you not remember what he let happen?" After pointing towards the faux-blonde briefly, you drop your hand back to your side, "Oh no, I forget, you weren't there to see the damage they did, right? Because you went off to University and forgot all about Kenma and me, until we got out of high school, as well, right? Right?" You were hardly able to speak, trying to catch your breath in between words. Your voice was growing faint and strained, due to your lack of oxygen in your lungs.

You knew that everyone's stare was on you, only worsening your panicking. Your hands come to your shirt, wringing the ends of it as you try to ground yourself. But you couldn't stop. You just kept talking, needing Kuroo to understand why you were angry, why you were upset. He needed to understand what you were feeling and what he had done.

"You left me, with strangers, in a big city, after promising me it would all be okay. I wasn't welcomed back with my grandmother and brother, after the falling out. But did you even bother to check up, once, after you left? Did you even care, after promising me it was going to be okay? Come on, give me an answer, huh?" You weren't quite sure what brought up all of these old feelings. Maybe it was having to see the two that caused you all of that distress. "Fuck you, Tetsurō."

Kuroo couldn't deny the fact that he was surprised by the way you lashed out at him. He was wondering where all of this anger had been, years ago. Why hadn't you or Kenma ever said anything to him about this? He was fumbling, no words would escape him, no matter his efforts to get something out.

An uneasy silence hangs in the air for a few long moments, everyone looking between you and the former Nekoma captain. Truthfully, you'd never really dealt with everything that had happened, emotionally. You just kind of shoved it down and distracted yourself with being at a new school and video games.

"Bokuto, take Miya, Ushijima, and Suna and go and practice on the court, for a while." A firm voice saves Kuroo from having to respond, making everyone look towards the athletic trainer. "Yaku, I think you should escort Kuroo out. I'll take Y/N home, today." Iwaizumi walks over to you, looking at Sakusa, "Go get me a cool, damp towel, okay?"

You aren't quite sure if Kuroo leaves willingly, or if Yaku has to force him out, but you don't really care, at the moment. Iwaizumi places an arm around your shoulders and brings you over to a bench to sit on, uncapping a water bottle for you. He crouches down in front of you and hands it to you. "Hey, look at me. It's going to be okay, can you focus on breathing for me, right now?"

You weren't crying, were you? Why was it so hot in here? Why couldn't you just calm down? Everyone was looking at you, weren't they? Had you acted irrationally? They were going to hate you for being so dramatic, weren't they? So much for a good first impression with the boys...

"Did you hear me?" Iwaizumi's voice cuts through your thoughts, making your eyes shift to his. Without a word, you move your eyes back down to the water bottle in his hands, "Breath, Y/N."

Easier said than done. "Al -," you swallow shakily and nod, "Alright."

You move your eyes away from him - bad idea Y/N. When you spot the men glancing over at you while they distractedly get to work, you don't quite register that they wanted to check on you, because they were worried about you, mistaking it, instead, for judgment. You opt for closing your eyes, tapping your fingers together rhythmically to help you calm yourself down.

Looking you over, Iwaizumi is reminded of all the late practices that he would find Oikawa collapsing from exhaustion or due to his knee injuries. Though, Oikawa only got this bad when he held the weight of not making it to nationals on his shoulders. Was this a panic attack that you were having, like Oikawa use to have? Or was it something else? He noticed you reach out to him, after a moment of his thinking, and he offers you a hand, silently nodding when you flash him a grateful, weak, but grateful, smile.

Slowly, your breathing mellowed out and the tears pricking your eyes slipped down your cheeks, your head hanging as you attempt to withdraw your hand from Iwaizumi. Though, your eyes move back up when he gently grips your hand, holding it in his, still. It isn't long after that when you feel nimble fingers grip your chin, tilting it up so that Sakusa can gently pat your cheeks and face with the cool cloth. You knew he didn't like touching people much and you were tempted to tell them that they didn't have to do this for you. But their touch was so gentle and their presence so calming that you couldn't bring yourself to open your mouth.

Instead of saying anything, you relax against Iwaizumi and Sakusa's touch. Normally it was Kenma who'd be doing this for you, just as you'd do it for him, but Kenma wasn't here, right now. And you were left to depend on yourself and these very kind, very gentle men.

It doesn't take Yaku long to make his way over, sitting on the bench behind you and gently rubbing circles against your back. "You okay there?" He asks you after a few moments of silence.

Letting out a breath, you open your eyes and nod. You pull your hand away from Iwaizumi and pull your head from Sakusa, turning from them, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Though, you aren't expecting Sakusa to grasp your chin once again and tilt your head in their direction again, "You aren't and we all know it, so cut the act."

Yaku sends a glare towards the taller man, "Sakusa!"

"What?" He snaps back. "I'm right, aren't I? They're not okay and they have every right to express it."

Iwaizumi sighs and looks at you, ignoring the other two, "Drink some water, okay? Look, after today, you don't have to return, I think we'll all understand if you don't want to... But, and you can ignore what I'm about to say if you want, I think that you need closure. Even if that comes from just having to tolerate occupying the same building as them."

Glancing over his shoulders, you find Suna and Atsumu both glancing in your direction. They looked so guilty... Why did you care? You frown and give him a shrug, "Whatever..."

Looking at you, Yaku nods slowly, "We'll try and keep you away from them, alright?"

After a nod of confirmation from Sakusa, you sigh and take a sip of the water bottle Iwaizumi had offered you. "Okay. Fine, yeah, I'll... I'll keep helping out." You confirm. "But, I'm going to bring Kenma for the next few days, just to make sure... This doesn't happen again." Gesturing to where the three sat, doting over you, you lower your eyes again.

"Whatever is going to make you feel most comfortable," Iwaizumi tells you, bringing a hand to affectionately ruffling your hair, watching the way you immediately lean into the affection.

"Let's get to work, what do you say, Y/N?" Sakusa hums, tone surprisingly gentle with you.

You finally stand up, capping your water bottle. "Yeah... Yeah. What can I do for you boys?"

Kenma and you both have a history of having panic attacks and you both are very good at calming one another down, due to your years of experience.

The boys might have just met you, but they all quickly developed this sense of 'I need to protect them' after what happened in front of them.

Atsumu let someone blackmail you, while you were both in high school and Suna continuously used you for his own amusement after he lost his memories and before he got them back. And they both said hurtful things when you announced you'd be leaving.

I am so sorry for how late this was, honestly. I just couldn't get it written how I wanted it. And even still, I don't really like the end result. But no matter, here it is, now, I hope you guys enjoy it. I hope you guys are having a great day, as well! Remember, sweetheart, I'm proud of you. You deserve to eat, get a good amount of sleep, and drink some water, I am so proud of you. Have a great day, alright! I'll have another chapter out tomorrow 🤍 I love you guys.

General Taglist:

@kookie-doughs @halesandy @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @its-the-aerieljeane @onlyonew @kac-chowsballs @saltylettuce @thathoneybee3 @daninaninani @akkeyomi @vintagexparker

The Next Chapter Taglist:

@anime-meme-sanctuary @nachotrash @haijkk @maadaaaa @prettyinblack231 @sakusasimpbot @kellesvt @bebetiny @ash-levi @calumsfringe @z3ld4 @erinoikawa @bandaged-despair @chaseyui @atria-avior @just-that-bi-girl @one-simp-more @hxked @universalmay @himboos

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years ago

Note

For the headcanon thing

I think Hatter likes to watch bad movies. Like the really bad ones. The ones that make you roll your eyes/laugh/cry at every single thing about it, doesn't matter if it's plot or acting. But you know what he loves more than watching those awful movies alone?

Watching them with someone else.

"hey, Mori, wanna watch a movie?"

"...no."

"c'mon, you'll like this one."

"no, I won't."

"...no, you won't. But I will enjoy your presence. C'mon bro, do it for the sake of bonding time."

"*sigh* fine..."

(inspired by real life events)

💕 Sleepover 💕

Rating: PG13 for language and alcohol consumption

Relationship: Takeru (Hatter)/Aguni

Tags: banter, friendly insults, Just Guys Being Dudes, drinking, swearing, love confessions (sort of), They Talk A Big Game But The Love Is There

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Mori!”

Bangbangbangbangbang!

“Moooooori, let me iiiiiiiiiin!”

Clunk!

Click!

Creeeeeeaaaaaak!

Aguni opens his apartment door, wincing at the slap of summer heat that greets him as he does.

“C’mon man,” an overheated and impatient Takeru implores, “it’s miserable out here!”

“You bring me samosas,” Aguni asks, crossing his arms across his chest, “Because I’m not letting you in without my samosas.”

Takeru’s face twists into a look of shocked indignation.

“Would you really leave me—your best friend on this beautiful green Earth—to swelter and die on your doorstep in this blazing summer heat…all because I forgot the samosas?”

Aguni considers.

“No. I’d ask you to swelter and die in the parking lot. Neighbors’ll kick up a fuss if you block the stairwell.”

“Well it’s a good thing I got two orders this time,” Takeru shakes the bag enticingly, “so we don’t even have to share.”

“Someone’s splashing out,” Aguni murmurs, taking the bag from Takeru’s outstretched hand and standing aside so the man can enter his home, “Don’t suppose there’s a reason for all this…”

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice,” Takeru says flippantly, toeing off his shoes, “a little ‘thank you’ for welcoming me into your home.”

Aguni carries the bag of food over to his coffee table and sets it down, being careful not to disturb the place settings he had so thoughtfully arranged. Two plates, two spoons, two glasses of water—all neatly placed in the center of his new, sage-green placemats.

Hopefully nobody spills curry on them.

“You brought one of your weird movies again, didn’t you?”

Takeru rolls his eyes. Shoving his arm into his messenger bag, he rummages around its contents for a moment before yanking a dark, thin rectangle and holding it up for Aguni to examine.

“The 1977 horror classic, House,” he explains with an edge of exasperation, “is a critically-acclaimed work of art that has been inspiring both film fanatics and the average man for nearly half a century.”

“Straight from the back of the box,” Aguni mumbles, opening the stapled-shut paper bag and peeking at the containers inside, “Anyways, I thought you didn’t like scary movies.”

Takeru scoffs.

“Not sure what gave you that idea,” Takeru says, shoving his feet into his slippers—yes, his slippers, black velvet with red-and-gold dragons embroidered on the front because ‘I’m here enough to warrant my own damn slippers’ and ‘these are fucking awesome,’ “We saw Hereditary in the theater!”

“And you were scared the whole time,” Aguni points out, gingerly lifting their food out of the bag and arranging the containers on their respective plates, “You had to sleep with the lights on for a week. Screwed up your cat’s sleep schedule and everything.”

Takeru swans his way over to Aguni’s refrigerator and opens it, more or less sticking his whole head inside to examine its (admittedly meager) offerings.

“It’s not my fault that Ziggy is such a smart, beautiful boy who knows what ‘lights out’ means. And besides,” Takeru says while examining the bottle of white wine Aguni had put in to chill, “I’ll be staying here tonight, so it won’t be an issue.”

“So the cat gets to sleep, but I don’t?”

“You, my dear, get a evening of my company, complete with scintillating conversation, cultural enrichment, and—as we have already established—your very own order of samosas,” Takeru calls out from the kitchen, rummaging for a suitable pair of wine glasses, “And besides, I plan on sleeping deeply and comfortably knowing that any and all monsters would no doubt eat you first, giving me ample opportunity to flee the scene…”

Aguni lifts the lid off his curry, admiring the rich yellow hue and inhaling its bold spices. There are even a few extra chilis lying on top, which is a lovely surprise.

Takeru arrives at the table, glasses in one hand and wine in the other. He gives the spread a discerning once-over and then a nod of apparent approval.

“Anyways,” Takeru says, twisting off the top of the wine bottle (not without giving Aguni a look of distaste as he does it), “I’m a bit disappointed in you, Mori-chan. I thought you’d fight me more on this one…”

“It’s a losing battle,” Aguni concedes, sitting himself down in his usual spot and turning on the television, “I have too many brain cells and not enough patience to go through the usual theatrics.”

Takeru hands him a generously-full wine glass—not as full as his own, of course, but still more than what the average person might pour.

“This’ll help the brain cell problem,” he says with an over-enthusiastic smile, “probably the patience, too. Wine makes you sentimental.”

“Hmph.”

“See? It’s already working.”

“Yeah, well,” Aguni grumbles, taking a small sip of his beverage, “better get the movie started before I change my mind.”

Takeru begins his usual indignant grumbling as he fumbles with the DVD player. Aguni could help him, but, frankly, it’s entertaining to watch his friend struggle with the simple electronic setup.

When Takeru manages to get the tray open, he gives a small cheer of victory. Aguni stifles a smirk.

Hopefully the movie is this much fun.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

“Mori. Hey, Mori-chan.”

Aguni rolls his eyes, and then himself onto his side to face Takeru.

“What,” he grumbles, squinting in the dark as he tries to make out the other mans’ shape, “piano thing still got you upset?”

“It ate her fingers, Mori,” Takeru whisper-shouts, “and then it got the rest of her too! That’s enough to upset anyone!”

“It wasn’t even that scary,” Aguni mentions, shimmying his shoulders in order to find a more comfortable spot on his futon, “besides, you don’t even play piano, so you don’t have to worry.”

Takeru is silent for a moment—a blessed, beautiful moment.

“I guess you’re right,” he says after his brief contemplation, “but that’s not the only thing on my mind.”

“I’m guessing ‘sleep’ isn’t one of ‘em?”

Takeru scoffs. There’s a shuffling and fluttering sound from his neighboring futon as he turns to face his disgruntled companion.

“In due time,” Takeru says, “what plagues me now is more of a philosophical question.”

Aguni sighs.

“Remember the part where that guy got turned into a pile of bananas?”

“Yeah,” Aguni responds, “that was weird.”

“What if that happened to me,” Takeru asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “would I turn into a pile of bananas, or would I be a different kind of fruit?”

Oh, you’re different alright, Aguni thinks to himself, but he knows better than to say that out loud. Takeru’s using his ‘this is going to keep me up all night unless you give me a good answer’ voice, so Aguni starts thinking about how best to answer.

“I think you’d be melons,” Takeru concludes, “yeah…definitely melons.”

“Because of my round head and lack of hair?”

“No,” Takeru snaps, “well, that wasn’t my original thinking.”

Aguni subtly checks his phone—half-past one o’clock in the morning, too late to send Takeru home on a train to ask his cat these burning questions instead of him.

“Why,” Aguni asks, “do you think I’d be melons?”

“Well, like you, melons are strong and tough on the outside. Make a nice thud sound when you smack ‘em.”

“So do I,” Aguni mentions, “if you get the right spot. But I also hit back, so that’s not very melon-y, is it?”

“Hm. I suppose not. But,” Takeru says, “where you really start to resemble the melon is on the inside.”

“Inside, huh?”

“Yeah,” Takeru considers for a moment, “underneath all that tough rind, melons are soft. Sweet, too. Nothing fancy, they’re not trying to prove anything, they’re just…good. Like you.”

Aguni hadn’t been expecting something so…sentimental. It’s a touching departure from their usual quips and playful jabs, and it makes something warm and kind of familiar bubble up in Aguni’s heart.

“And also,” Takeru tacks on, “they’re green. And green is your favorite color! So it’s perfect.”

“I think you’d be a strawberry,” Aguni says after a beat.

“A strawberry? You mean only one?”

“Only one,” Aguni confirms, “but one of those fancy designer ones, the kind they grow in those hydroponic farms and sell in department stores for thousands of yen.”

“I heard about a guy who got murdered at one of those places,” Takeru says, “some yakuza guy who was selling weed on the side, someone put a hit out on him and used the body for fertilizer.”

“That’s…disturbing,” Aguni replies, “but that’s beside the point. Don’t you want to know why I think you’d be a single strawberry?”

“Is it because they’re red?”

“Sort of,” Aguni says, “Got a lot of seeds, too. Get stuck in your teeth pretty easily, if you’re not careful.”

“I am rather tenacious.”

“You are.”

Aguni considers his next words carefully. His relationship with Takeru is…complicated, and uncertain, and if anyone ever asked him what they ‘are’ he wouldn’t know how to answer.

“Strawberries are sweet. They’re sour, too. You’d know the flavor anywhere. And you…”

He pauses. Takeru, for once, doesn’t try to fill the silence with his own voice.

“…Well, those designer strawberries are all one-of-a-kind, just like you. So that’s why there’s one one,” he says slowly, “and I like strawberries. Might even, uh…love ‘em.”

“Oh, Mori…”

Something flops onto Aguni’s blanket—once, twice, and ah, it’s Takeru’s hand, and he’s looking for something. Aguni slips his arm from under the covers and covers Takeru’s hand with his own. This is apparently what Takeru had been searching for, because he pulls Aguni’s hand closer to himself.

“You know,” Takeru says, “now that you mention it, I think I might love melon, too.”

Aguni feels lips against the back of his hand—a soft kiss, gentle, a reassurance as much as an act of affection—and he’s glad for the dark of night that hides the blush of his cheeks.

“I feel better now,” Takeru announces, giving Aguni’s hand a light squeeze, “In fact, I think I’m falling asleep as we speak…”

“Hmm,” Aguni hums in agreement.

He’s still holding Takeru’s hand, and Takeru, his—neither seem too keen on letting go, at least, not for now.

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #writings and such #aguni morizono #hatter/aguni #I didn’t go with ‘bad’ movie per se but like…..if you’ve seen it you know #‘house’ is a FUN movie and I like it very much #I tried not to spoil too much in case you wanna watch it yourself!!!#we need more of them being cute together

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hoodwinkd1 · 4 years ago

Text

Your Eyes Whispered Ch 8-10

Fic Summary:

Chapters 4-7 here. Ch 11-13 here.

Chapter 8: why they lost their minds and fought the wars

“His eyes fluttered shut a moment before his head hit the soft fabric, meaning Eris did not watch the massive blade appear above him and stab him through the heart.”

A burst of agony shot through her heart, jolting Rhia awake. She grabbed at her heaving chest, a scream stopping halfway out her throat, as her mind caught up to her instincts. As sudden as it came, the pain vanished.

“What the fuck?” she breathed out, blinking a few times to confirm that she was, indeed, conscious and no longer dreaming. A glance around the room told her that she had fallen asleep on the couch again, too anxious to go to bed, but too exhausted to stay awake.

The soft glow of the parchment caught her eye. Rhia snatched up the paper, cursing herself for missing Eris’ reply. She read the short message three times before her blood stopped pounding. Thank the Cauldron. He’d arrived back at the palace and had even reconnected with his most-trustworthy brother in the search for their mother. Rhia might have rushed to the palace and demanded entrance if not for that reply.

One worry aside, Rhia’s mind turned back to the phantom pain. She checked her body again, finding nothing unusual or injured. Running a hand through her knotted and frizzy hair, she stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Nothing would fix a mysterious, bad dream like a cup of tea.

----

Eris let out a weak gasp at the very real, very painful burst of agony that shot through his heart. The golden sword had appeared out of thin air, slicing through his ribcage and landing disturbingly near his most vital organ.

“Help.” His voice was soft, hoarse. “Lucien--”

Thank the Cauldron for Fae hearing. His brother shoved the door open, metallic eye spinning wildly. “Eris!” Lucien shouted, sprinting to the side of the bed.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Lucien demanded, placing his hands on either side of the blade. “Send a signal, a message, fucking something to the healers. Don’t give up on me now, you horrible prick.”

Eris took in a shaky breath, summoning his magic as best he could. He flexed his fingers and shot out a weak blast of fire that zig-zagged out of the room, hopefully heading towards someone who could help.

He could feel his power fading. “My...I can’t...healing isn’t…”

Lucien closed his eyes, trying to feel the extent of the damage. “Your healing isn’t kicking in,” he finished, his tone tinged with panic. “The blade is stuck, cursed to prevent you from removing it or stitching yourself back up. FUCK!” His long-hair fell across his face as he pulled and pulled, to no avail.

“Try something else,” Eris hissed. Dark and light spots danced across his vision. Blood loss would kill him faster than any nasty curse if Lucien couldn’t get the damn thing out.

The younger brother swore again. “I don’t know what else I can--.” He took a deep breath and focused both his eyes on the sword. Lucien tightened his fingers around the jeweled handle.

“I can feel it,” he murmured. Eris had no idea what had changed, but wasn’t exactly in a position to ask for clarification. “There’s a spell.”

If Eris could speak, he would have offered some sarcastic reply for that obvious answer. He managed a half-hearted eye roll instead.

His eyes started to close of their own accord. The sword had struck almost perfectly, killing him faster than anyone would arrive. “Lucien, you can’t let Auster--”

“Shut up. Shut all the way up,” Lucien snarled. Eris’ eyes flew open in surprise, only opening wider when he beheld the sight in front of him.

His brother’s hands had turned molten, shining with light as pure as day. Eris could see cracks forming in the sword’s handle, as jewels began to fall off. Lucien grunted, squeezing his hands even tighter, before letting out a large growl and yanking the sword fully out of Eris’ chest.

There were many ways Eris could have reacted to the anomaly, but his body chose to black out immediately.

The High Lord dreamt of dark brown lips and curly hair. He couldn’t speak, so he kept thinking of a name, over and over again.

Rhia.

Rhia dropped her tea cup, shattering the pretty little trinket on her hardwood floor. She whipped her head towards the door, expecting to see one devastatingly handsome red-head in her foyer. She swore she heard his voice calling her name, but her house remained empty of him and his scent.

“That’s it,” she declared, waving a hand to fix the cup and marching towards the front room. She grabbed a long, black cloak, placing the hood over her face. Even if she must break into the most heavily guarded building in the whole damn Court, Rhia would find Eris and get some answers on the oddity of the past few hours.

---

“Welcome back, my Lord.”

Eris groaned at the sarcastic use of his title, cracking his eyes open just enough to see Gerwin standing over him. His head ached at the tiny movement.

“What happened?” he asked, coughing to clear his dry throat. He didn’t sense Lucien nearby.

The weapons master shifted his weight. “Not sure. By the time I arrived, you were unconscious and beginning to heal. Lucien provided some additional medicinal power to close up the wound enough to transport you to the Hospital Wing.”

Eris let his eyes drift shut again. “Where is he?”

Gerwin coughed. “Well, let me start by clarifying that this was not my idea.” Eris growled lightly. “Fine! Some of the council decided to...restrain him.”

Yet again, his advisors proved to be the most useless and idiotic group of males in this world. “They’re all fired immediately, of course. Remove Lucien from whatever cell they put him in.”

His friend snickered. “I hope you heal quickly, if only to allow me to witness whatever shit storm comes of this whole ordeal.” He squeezed Eris’ shoulder once on his way out. A nurse quickly took his place, their practiced hands gliding over his chest to sense any lingering bleeding. They also placed a small cup of water in his hands, which Eris drank eagerly. He considered passing out again, but thought Lucien might appreciate his attention until he was no longer in prison.

Unsurprisingly, Eris received a truly unpleasant visitor only minutes after Gerwin left. Moris stalked through the door, black cape fluttering behind him. The male didn’t do himself any favors by dressing like a villain caricature and making melodramatic entrances.

“My Lord,” Moris greeted, planting himself next to the bed. “I heard you were awake. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Eris smirked. “I never left, though I appreciate the sentiment. Is my brother out of bonds?”

The older male stroked his chin. “About that. We cannot let him free until we are certain he had nothing to do with this atrocious act. After all, Lucien could stand to benefit from your demise.”

So could you, you treacherous fuck. Eris held his tongue. “I am ordering you to release him or forfeit your position as an adviser. Any further questions?”

He enjoyed the gaping look on Moris’ face immensely. “My lord I--”

“And it’s Lord Lucien. Do you forget your place so quickly?”

Moris looked furious. He was saved from responding as a young guard burst into the wing. Panting, she bowed to Eris.

“My apologies for disrupting your healing, my Lord,” she managed between breaths. “Normally we could handle an intruder, but this one seems...different.”

Eris bit back a groan. He really didn’t have the energy to handle some overeager Fae trying to break into the palace, which happened almost biweekly. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m sure Captain Fern can handle--”

“She’s very powerful,” the guard interrupted. Her face flushed bright red. “I--I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but Captain Fern insisted this was abnormal. She made it to the third floor before anyone could stop her and it took seven of us to finally subdue her.”

Eris was relatively sure he had stopped breathing. He held up a hand to stop the guard from her rambling. Praying to the Mother, the Cauldron, anything, he felt for the unbreakable thread attached to his heart and gave an experimental tug.

Rhia was in the palace.

“Get out of my sight,” he snarled at Moris. “In fact, never enter it again. I want you and your fucking cronies out of my palace before dawn.” Turning to the guard, he pushed the blankets off his legs. “Take me to her and to my brother now .”

“What are you doing?” Moris sputtered. Eris ignored him. “You aren’t fully healed yet, sir!”

The guard, to her credit, didn’t waste a moment to stare at his blood-soaked tunic or ask if he was healthy enough to sprint through the halls. She turned on her heel and led him down several flights of stairs, nodding to her peers protecting the entrance to the dungeons. They opened the doors just as Eris swept through, pushing past two more advisers and four other guards that attempted to stop him. The bond pulled him forward.

“Open the gates,” the High Lord demanded, punctuated by a low growl. “Both of them. Now.”

Gerwin appeared at his shoulder. “Eris, you shouldn’t be up so quickly.”

He brushed off his oldest friend. The iron gates on two adjacent cells swung open. Lucien stepped out of one, giving his brother the dirtiest look he could muster. “Took you long enough,” the younger Vanserra mumbled.

Eris didn’t acknowledge him. A smaller figure had stepped out of the other cell, her face unreadable.

“Everyone out.” No one hesitated to follow the command. Eris’ tone promised swift violence. Even Gerwin took a step back, before Eris grabbed his wrist to stop him. The underground hall remained silent for several more heartbeats, until the retreating footsteps quieted.

Ever the obnoxious twat, Lucien broke the tension. “I saved your life one time and immediately got thrown in prison. Very classy, brother.” He gestured to Rhia. “Who’s the trespasser?”

“You’re covered in blood,” Rhia stated. Her face remained impassive, but Eris could feel a bit of panic from the bond. “Like, the most blood I’ve ever seen on someone who isn’t dead.”

This was shaping up to be the longest night of Eris’ life, and he’d slept through most of it.

He decided to handle one problem at a time. “Your hands glowed and removed an enchanted blade from my chest. What powers are you hiding from me?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “I’ve never done that before, obviously.”

“Blade? In your chest?” Rhia questioned.

“Enchanted?” Gerwin added.

Could a person have multiple headaches at the same time? Eris rubbed his forehead. “All of you, we’re going to my chambers and discussing...well, all of this.” His gaze snapped to Gerwin. “Oh, and I officially fired all of the advisers, so you might want to start handling that.”

“Fantastic. Truly wonderful timing.” He shook his head. “I will be demanding an absolutely massive raise this year.” Gerwin turned to leave. “And a full, detailed description of the last few hours.”

Eris’ strength began to fail him. “Lucien, will you do the honors and winnow us upstairs?” He leaned against the cold, stone wall, not bothering to hide his weakness anymore.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “Winnow my half-healed arse of a brother and a mysterious criminal up to his chambers? Sure, why not?” He grabbed Eris’ shoulder and held out a hand to Rhia. She squinted her eyes in suspicion, but took it anyways.

---

Rhia tried to keep her breathing even as Lucien vanished them. She detested winnowing with other people, hated how out-of-control her body felt. She opened her eyes to see a lavishly decorated room, covered with gold and red patterns. Several couches and chairs surrounded a large fireplace, nestled between ceiling-to-floor windows with the fanciest curtains she’d ever seen.

“And yet you always insist we meet at my place,” Rhia muttered. She almost jumped when Eris let out a bark of laughter, blushing when she realized the others could hear her comment. She turned her head, watching closely as Lucien helped him onto one of the couches. “What happened?”

All of her worry and panic came rushing back. A fucking enchanted blade. That explained the phantom pain and the discomfort she’d felt as the bond chafed her. It had tried to show her something was wrong, pulling her towards her injured mate. She even had to hold back a possessive growl at Lucien’s less-than-gentle handling of his brother.

“I think I understand it now,” Eris began. “Auster tricked me into leaving the palace long enough to set some sort of trap. Kidnapping our mother, I would guess, was simply a distraction.”

Lucien collapsed onto a maroon chair. “Then where the fuck is she? And why hasn’t he shown his face yet?”

“He’s waiting for an official announcement of my death,” Eris guessed. “Or to feel the mystical High Lord’s power come to him.”

Rhia cleared her throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt, someone needs to tell me how the hell my--the High Lord came to be covered in blood.”

Eris shifted his gaze to her. Her knees almost buckled, adrenaline leaving her body, as she scanned his face for any lingering pain.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, sitting up slightly. “I should’ve started there. When I arrived in my room earlier tonight, a blade appeared and stabbed me through the chest as soon as I lay in bed. Lucien had to undo some sort of spell that made it unremovable and stopped my healing powers.”

Her knees actually did buckle at that. She stumbled backwards, fortunately landing on an armchair. “That-- I felt something a few hours ago.”

“Who are you?” Lucien demanded. “Eris?”

Rhia waited for him to respond, only to realize he was looking at her for permission. She melted a bit, at Eris’ willingness to put her needs first, even during this chaotic time.

“You can tell him,” she said quietly. Lucien looked at her again, his mouth opening slightly.

“She’s my mate.” Eris did not stop looking at her. “We haven’t made anything official yet. This remains a secret.”

Lucien stood suddenly. “Excuse me.” He stalked towards a door to the side, swinging it open to reveal a bathing chamber.

Rhia jumped slightly as he slammed the door shut. “Did I do something?”

“No,” Eris denied sharply. “You’ve done nothing wrong. He’s sensitive about mates.”

Rhia made a mental note to ask for more details later. “He saved you from the enchantment?” she asked instead of probing.

“It doesn’t make much sense, but yes.” Eris stretched his arms out, working out some kink in his back. “That kind of magic isn’t usually found in the Autumn Court.”

“What do we do now?” Rhia sunk back into her chair.

Eris tilted his head. “We?”

“Don’t even try to send me home,” Rhia warned. “I know we haven’t...made anything official, but I’m here now and I’m staying.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He shot her an infuriating smile. “Once Lucien calms down we’ll have to--”

They both froze in shock. The most beautiful female Rhia had ever seen winnowed in the middle of the room. She had long, blonde hair that curled perfectly, draping down her back, over a body that would entice even the most faithful male.

“You,” she hissed, pointing a sharp, manicured nail at Eris. “Don’t speak. Where is Lucien?”

Eris didn’t flinch at her obvious fury. “I’ll have to speak to answer your question, Morrigan.” The blonde snarled. “He’s in the bathroom.”

Rhia would find the situation humorous, if she wasn’t physically present. One of the most fearsome warriors of all time stood in front of her, threatening a High Lord without hesitation.

Lucien chose that moment to rejoin the conversation. “How did you get past the wards?”

Mor scoffed. “A nice attempt to keep me out. We’re going to Velaris, immediately.” She stalked towards the younger Vanserra.

He took a step back. “You can’t show up and start making demands. What is going on?”

“Elain sent me to find you,” Mor explained.

Lucien shook his head. “She wouldn’t just send for me.”

Mor sighed. “Something...happened to Carina and Elain saw that you would be the only one who could help her.” She snapped her fingers. “My niece is dying and you’re coming with me now.”

Eris stood up. “What happened to her?”

“I know you have some bizarre friendship with her, but you do not speak to me,” Mor growled. Her eyes widened as she fully took him in. “What happened to you?”

“An enchanted blade appeared and stabbed me, and Lucien saved my life” Eris snapped. “I’m betting the same thing happened to her, did it not?” He looked at his brother. “Go. Quickly.”

Lucien didn’t hesitate any longer. “I’ll be back and we’ll renew our search.” He grabbed Mor’s arm, and the duo vanished again.

Eris stared at the spot where they’d last stood, his chest heaving. Rhia felt for the bond, hoping he hadn’t ripped his wound open.

“Rhia, I am so sorry.” His gaze didn’t meet hers.

“You know infamous war heroes and are friends with Carina Archeron.” She smiled slightly. “I’m a bit shocked, but you don’t have to apologize for any of that.”

He still didn’t look at her. “There’s history there. A history that I haven’t shared with you yet, which makes me a wretched person.”

She shook her head. “You can share anything with me.”

“Not this,” he responded, then winced. “I mean, I will share this with you, because you deserve the full truth, but it will change the way you look at me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle that.”

Rhia stood up and walked over to him slowly. He tracked every step. “I told you about the darkest part of myself and you didn’t even blink. In fact, I’m pretty sure you told me you loved me.” She let out a soft laugh. “We have too much on our plates tonight. You’ll tell me after we bring your mother home safely, and I won’t look at you any differently.”

“You can’t promise that,” he whispered.

She raised her hand to his face, gently tilting it up until he looked at her. Finally. “I can promise that. Fortunately, my logic and rationality are completely compromised. Because I find myself in love with you, too.”

She didn’t wait for his response. Leaning in, Rhia slid her hand from his chin to his jaw. They shared a breath, a heartbeat, before she closed the distance and kissed him.

He froze for a moment, before placing one of his hands on her cheek and spoke against her lips. “A horrible choice, really,” he muttered, then kissed her fully.

Chapter 9: time moved too fast

HUGE TW FOR VIOLENCE AND MENTIONS OF BLOOD! I have put "XXX" before and after, but it's most of the chapter, so please don't read if that's a trigger for you.

Eris was reasonably sure the enchanted sword had killed him. It must have, since this moment could surely only exist in death.

His mate. His strong, fearsome, powerful, brilliant mate saying she loved him before kissing him.

If this was death, Eris didn’t really mind.

He moved slowly at first, giving Rhia time and space to move at her own pace. Eris’ hands slowly slid down her arms, coming in to grab her waist when she pressed herself closer to him. He let out a small gasp when she responded in kind, twisting one arm around his neck to grip his hair. Eris died a second time when he felt her lips quirk up into a smile against his.

“Sorry,” Rhia laughed. The sound raised him from the dead. “We have some larger issues at hand to focus on, don’t we?”

Eris pushed a curl out of her face. “Never apologize for doing that. But, yes.” They stepped away from each other slightly, both sighing softly at the loss of contact. “Hopefully, Lucien won’t take much longer in…” He trailed off. Eris cursed himself for forgetting that one of his best friends’ lay bleeding, in the same position he had been in mere hours ago.

“He’ll save her.” Rhia’s tone was firm, matching the hand she placed on his shoulder as she guided him back to the couch. “What horribly impulsive plan are you thinking up?”

“Nothing unnecessary,” Eris countered. “Gerwin already placed the palace under lockdown, shutting down all communication with the rest of the court. So now all we have to do is send out my death announcement.”

Her eyes narrowed. “To draw Auster in?”

Eris spread his arms out wide. “Well, I’m not actually dead am I? Though I wasn’t sure I hadn’t gone to some paradisal afterlife for a moment there,” he teased.

“That’s not funny,” Rhia huffed, crossing her arms. He held out a hand to pull her to the couch, which she refused. “Are you sure no one’s able to leave? Mor seemed to show up rather easily. And if word gets out that you’re alive---”

“Mor is more powerful than anyone in this building,” Eris insisted. “I promise, the announcement of my death will travel fast, too fast for anyone in this palace to deny.” He extended his hand more, quirking one eyebrow. “Come, sit with your poor, injured mate.”

She finally took his hand, failing to restrain a small smile. “Are you using your wound to entice me into coddling you?”

Eris grinned, before yanking her suddenly into his lap. “Is it working?”

He waited eagerly for her reply, continuously monitoring her body for any signs of discomfort or tension. Whatever snark she planned to throw at him was interrupted by Lucien’s return.

XXX (beginning TW: blood)

The tan male said nothing at their mildly compromising position. Eris noted his grim expression and bloodied hands, heart rate rising with worry. “Did you--”

“She’s stable,” Lucien confirmed. “The Inner Circle is acting more insane and territorial than normal, but Carina will recover in a matter of days.” He seemed to notice the blood on his hands for the first time, crinkling his nose in disgust. “I should clean myself up, but I’ll wait if we’re about to murder another family member.”

XXX (ending TW: blood)

Rhia controlled her expression with ease, but Eris could sense a wave of shock and horror through the bond. He hadn’t specifically told her Lucien had helped Tamlin kill two of their brothers on Spring Court lands, deservedly so, and hoped she wasn’t reconsidering their entire relationship at the moment. Eris also hoped this would be the last time him or Lucien had to kill a relative, not only because they were simply running out.

“I’ll send a note out right now.” Eris magicked a piece of parchment and scrawled a message to Gerwin. “Let’s hope the Court doesn’t get too excited over my demise; I would hate to let them down when they hear from me again.”

----

Lucien thought it disrespectful that Auster made them wait three tedious hours before showing up at the front gates, declaring himself the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. If a male put so much time and effort into overthrowing his brother, then he should at least be timely in seizing the throne.

XXX (beginning TW: blood)

The blood on his hands itched. No wait, that wasn’t right. His hands itched under the layers of blood. Lucien scratched his left hand idly, admitting to himself that his mind might be heading towards some sort of breakdown. It really did feel like the dried blood was moving, tickling his skin.

XXX (ending TW: blood)

Eris hadn’t brought up his newfound power. Neither brother had any sort of explanation for Lucien’s curse breaking abilities and neither brother wanted to uncover any new secrets at this point in time. Feyre’s face flashed in his vision, the memory of her sharing a meaningful look with Rhys when he yanked the sword from their daughter’s chest haunting him. Of course those nosy bastards would have a theory or know something he didn’t.

Maybe he should just go back to the human lands. Even the light scent of fear and apprehension from the mortals around him hurt less than the cold wall of separation he slammed into everywhere in Prythian. His life continued to be a series of lonely places, watching from the outside.

Eris’ snarl drew him out of his melancholy. For Cauldron’s sake, they’d reached the throne room while he drowned in his self-pity. Lucien steeled himself as he followed his brother past the guards, throwing a satisfied smirk at their wide eyes.

“Move,” Eris demanded. Everyone in the hall slid to the walls, some even kneeling at the sight of their clearly-not-dead ruler. Lucien admirably stopped his eyes from rolling at that.

Rhia and Gerwin had taken a secret passageway to a corridor that overlooked the throne room, only used by the elite guard to monitor from above. Lucien hadn’t expected Eris to allow his mate to come anywhere near the imminent carnage, but his brother had actually suggested she accompany the weapons master. Watching them interact was equally fascinating and agonizing.

The double doors swung open. Lucien wished he could frame the moment Auster saw them enter. His sociopathic brother usually kept an entirely emotionless face, never showing joy or fear or anger, until that moment when surprise took over his features.

Auster controlled himself. “Lying to your people now, are we Eris?”

“Stabbing your High Lord through the chest?” Eris retorted. “This will be the quickest treason trial and execution in history.” He waved a hand towards the elders that had assembled to hear Auster’s claim. “I would offer you all the chance to vote, except I fired you hours ago. Leave my damn palace.”

Lucien felt a small niggling in his brain. Two against one, truly four against one; the odds were not in Auster’s favor. And yet the twisted male didn’t make any attempt to flee or plead for his life.

“Tsk tsk, brother,” Auster clicked his tongue. “Is that any way to address the males that have served this Court centuries longer than you have?”

Did he expect them to fight on his side? Lucien eyed all the non-Vanserras in the room. Six old bastards made the fight seven against four, but none of the advisers would cause any trouble for even him, the lowly banished son. Eris could easily burn them to a crisp himself.

XXX (beginning TW: violence)

“Enough.” Eris drew his sword and sent a wave of flames down his arms. “Remove yourselves or stand against me, I really don’t care.” In a heartbeat, he’d launched himself at Auster, who raised a shield of fire in the last second, barely dodging the attack. Two of the advisers ran for the doors, wisely removing themselves from the violence. The other four backed away slowly, eyeing the brothers analytically as if to see who would gain the advantage.

Lucien’s senses went on high alert. His instincts jumped before his brain could register what had caught his attention, his left hand shooting a burst of flame to incinerate an arrow that shot at his face.

“Fuck,” he growled, drawing his own sword and launching himself towards Eris. The arrow had come from the secret corridor, which Gerwin and Rhia were allegedly defending. He blocked two more projectiles that aimed for his brother, his movements distracting Eris from making a killing blow. Auster’s allies were here.

Another adviser bolted for the door, which didn’t go over well with the hidden archer, who shot him down quickly before continuing to harass Lucien.

“Finish him already,” Lucien roared, the heat of his brothers’ battle stinging his back. His metal eye whirred around the room, anticipating arrows before a normal Fae would.

Auster laughed. “Am I to understand you killed our father? Your pathetic attempt today has me questioning if you were truly capable of doing it alone.”

Eris snarled in response. Lucien turned his head in time to see him throw a massive wave of flame at Auster. While the entire royal bloodline could defend themselves against burns for a while, a wall of fire would suck enough oxygen from their lungs to weaken them quickly.

“He has a protection spell,” Eris panted, keeping his vision locked on Auster’s attempts to escape the inferno. “I need you to break it.”

Lucien slashed another arrow. “I have no idea how to do that!” The temperature in the room swelled.

Eris glared at him. “My mate is running around a palace crawling with assassins and traitors while you whine. BREAK IT!”

One breath in. One breath out. “When I say, stop roasting him and turn your attention to the archer.” Lucien flexed his fingers, allowing the forbidden magic in his soul to run through his veins unchecked, allowing the secret part of himself that he never acknowledged to rise to the surface. “NOW!”

With a grunt, Eris shifted the flames to the hidden window, blocking any more arrows from landing. Lucien didn’t give Auster enough time to inhale before thrusting his hand around his neck and squeezing . He ignored the knife that rose up to meet his chest, only focusing on leeching the spell onto his own body.

The world shifted into slow motion. Lucien heard a yell from the brother behind him and a wheeze from the brother in front of him. He felt a breeze flow from his hand, down his arm, across his body, flowing over his heart at the exact moment the knife hit his flesh.

Time sped up. Lucien flexed his finger one more time and Auster fainted, gravity pulling his body to the ground. He heard a crash behind him, turning to see Rhia standing in the broken edges of the formerly hidden window, the archer’s body bleeding out on the marble floor beneath her.

“Sorry I’m late,” she breathed, only looking at Eris. “We ran into a few complications on the way.”

----

Eris wanted to stare at her forever, standing meters above him like the angel she might be. He gave himself one last second of adoration before forcing himself back to the real world. He spun on his heel and approached his brothers.

“Lucien.” He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, afraid of whatever trance the male seemed to be in. “You can let him go.”

The tan hand unflexed, one finger at a time, and Auster’s body slumped to the ground fully. Eris didn’t hear a heartbeat.

“Are you injured?” He couldn’t smell any blood but… “I saw the knife hit you.”

“I stole his protection spell,” Lucien explained, stilling staring at the dead body. “Did I--he’s dead.”

XXX (ending TW: violence)

Oh Cauldron. Eris really hadn’t wanted his youngest sibling, his only true sibling, to tarnish his soul any further, had wanted to take that burden himself.

“Thank you,” was all he could think to say. Lucien finally met his gaze. “Please, stay here as long as you need. Just don’t...don’t feel like you have to run away.”

Lucien nodded. “I’m not leaving until we find Mother.”

Gerwin swept into the room. “I cleared the halls and sent out another notice, revoking your statement of death. Also, a messenger from the Night Court arrived and requested your presence at the border.” He took in the scene before him. “Unfortunately, they want you immediately.”

Eris squeezed Lucien’s shoulder and stepped away. “I’ll go at once.” As he passed Gerwin, he lowered his voice. “Make sure they both get settled for the night.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he stood close enough to touch Rhia again. Breathing in her scent like a pain killer, he reached out a hand. After so much violence, he wouldn’t blame her for retreating into her protective shell once more.

Delightfully, she took his hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Hurry back,” she whispered against his tunic.

Eris couldn’t and wouldn’t argue with that. “Will you stay?”

“Hurry back and maybe you’ll catch me before I leave.” She had the audacity to wink at him. He heavily considered ignoring Rhysand’s summoning.

Rhia released him and shoved his arm lightly. “Go be High Lord.”

Eris glanced around the room one last time, quelling his anxiety with the sight of his family alive and well. He blinked and the dense forest appeared.

Feyre and Rhysand watched him appear. His heart almost stopped at the Fae standing next to them.

“Mother,’ he croaked, almost falling to his knees at the sight of her. Two long strides brought them together, into a crashing embrace.

“My baby,” she crooned, pulling back to look at his charred and bloodied clothing. “My poor son. What did you have to do?”

Eris brushed off her concern. “Are you harmed?” He spared a glance for the couple across the border. “What happened?”

“She was being held in the Hewn City.” Feyre stepped forward. “Auster and Keir formed an alliance months ago. Our spymaster is creating a report for your Court with all of the details we uncovered today.” She let out a shaky breath. “Please, tell Lucien, we owe him a life debt for what he did today. If he hadn’t shown up, Carina would have…” Her mate stepped forward as she trailed off.

Eris looked at his mother. “We all owe Lucien more than he deserves after this week. What happened to Keir?” The asshole should have died the moment he sold his daughter into slavery, but there was no time like the present to rectify past mistakes.

“Mor and Azriel had no trouble handling his trial,” Rhysand commented drily, rubbing a hand idly on Feyre’s back. “Treason is a capital offense, after all.”

Eris nodded. “Interestingly enough, Lucien and I agreed. Auster won’t bother your Court ever again.” He shifted his gaze away from his mother, unprepared to face whatever emotion shadowed her face.

“We’ll be sending a summons for a meeting in the next few weeks.” Rhysand slid his hand fully around Feyre’s waist. “Your attendance is mandatory.”

The arrogant male winnowed his mate away before Eris could respond that of course, he would attend. The dramatic effect of it all almost made him chuckle. Almost.

“Let’s go home, Eris.” His mother placed a warm hand on his cheek.

Back to his throne. Back to the weight of his crown. But also, back to the only people he loved.

Chapter 10: one step, not much (but it said enough)

Eris released his mother as soon as they landed in the foyer. Their arrival turned heads, including Gerwin and the Vanserra’s head of household, Liang. The two Fae walked over to meet them immediately.

Eris stepped out of the way as Liang grabbed his mother’s hands. “What happened? Do you need a healer? By the Cauldron, Eris, what took you so long?”

“Hush.” The Lady of the Autumn Court squeezed her oldest friend’s hand. “Let’s not draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

“It’s your damn palace,” Liang muttered. “I’m taking you to the medicine wing.” She turned her sharp gaze to the males. “You have quite the political mess on your hands. Fix it.”

Gerwin blinked at her disrespectful tone, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Eris rolled his eyes and turned to walk to his chambers, waving at his friend to follow. Liang and her husband had served together as Generals in the First War, earning enough victory for the Autumn Court that Beron had offered them both generous rewards. The couple had divorced because Liang only asked for her husband’s demotion after he refused to listen to her and allowed the escape of several important prisoners. Eris could still see his mother’s face lighting up at the female general’s request, could still hear her requesting Beron hire Liang as their overpaid, under-worked head of household.

Gerwin had likely only heard of her battlefield prowess, but everyone in the palace knew to give Liang the utmost respect usually accorded to the royal family. Which she basically was, Eris mused, especially since she had moved into his mother’s chambers following Beron’s death. A topic he had no interest in probing further.

“The Night Court will be sending a summons in the next few weeks,” Eris stated. “Make sure you have some people available to run security checks on whatever location they choose.”

Gerwin nodded. “Will you want me to join you?”

Eris shrugged. “If you want to. I’m wishing for a calm, boring meeting, but imagine that won’t be the case.”

“Nothing delights me more than temperamental High Lords,” Gerwin grinned. “I mean no offense, but do you really want me in your chambers right now?” They’d stopped in front of the door. “I would guess you have...better things to do.”

“Don’t be like that,” Eris groaned. “And no. I’m ordering you to go away and get some rest. You’re on personal leave for the next few days after I’ve so horribly overworked you.”

Gerwin slapped his shoulder, a bit harder than needed. “Yes, yes you have. If you see a massive tab in your name racking up at The Oak, ignore it.” He stalked off, avoiding any denial the High Lord might have with using royal funds to buy drinks for the entire city.

Truly, Eris didn’t care. Gerwin could spend his money far better than he could. He only cared about the fact that he could smell someone in his bedroom, sense a warm presence that heated his blood and settled his heart. He pushed open the door, and Rhia spun around to greet him.

“Is your mother--OOF,” she sputtered, as he grabbed her into a tight embrace. “Hello to you, too.”

Eris pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on hers. “Is this okay?” he murmured softly. Rhia nodded, her nose brushing against his lightly.

“More than. You look happy.” She ran her hands up his chest, fingers dancing until they reached his jaw. “Tell me your mother made it back safely.”

“Yes, she’s unharmed and in good hands.” Eris leaned his head into one of her palms. “How are you? Today was intense.”

----

Rhia scrunched her nose at his question, drawing a quiet chuckle from his lips. She didn’t want to think about the ordeal, beginning with a fatal stab wound and ending with a murder.

“He wasn’t the first Fae I’ve killed,” she replied after a moment. “I’ll get over it soon enough.”

Eris sighed and pulled away. She almost protested, but he was only moving them towards the couch. “Not what I asked. How are you right now?”

She sat sideways against the velvet back, tucking her legs underneath her, dropping his hand to run it through her tangled hair. Unsurprisingly, her fingers got stuck only a quarter of the way down.

“I’m a lot of things. Happy that you’re safe. Thrilled that the prick is dead. Worried about Lucien, because he’s clearly not fine, although I know I just met him--”

Eris flicked her nose lightly. “Has anyone ever told you that you don’t know how to talk about your feelings? I asked about you. What do you need?”

Rhia frowned. “Pot, meet kettle.” She grabbed the hand that had flicked her and linked their fingers, letting them both drop to her thigh. “I don’t know. I guess, I think it would help me if I knew what happened. Everything before my arrival and everything after you left.”

She had never been good at naming her emotions or asking for something from others. Yet, as Eris began speaking, fulfilling her request with no argument, Rhia did feel the tension begin to leave her body. Her usual strategy, make sure everyone else is okay and deal with the private shit later, took a much larger emotional toll than necessary.

His story filled in the gaps in her understanding. She tried to remain impassive when he finished telling her about meeting Rhysand and Feyre at the border; he sensed her excitement nonetheless.

“You can never tell them how obsessed you are,” Eris teased, pulling their joined hands to his mouth for a quick kiss. “I’ll never forgive you if you inflate their egos even more.”

Rhia smacked his shoulder with her free hand. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s just hard to imagine that Feyre Cursebreaker just appears and has a conversation with you. You make her sound so normal.”

“Seeing the High Lord of Autumn isn’t impressive enough for you?” She could’ve sworn he pouted, actually pouted at her. “You never seem surprised that I’m normal.”

“I was a complete mess when you first appeared on my doorstep,” Rhia argued. “I could barely form a sentence or say anything coherent when you announced we were mates. Thanks for giving me absolutely no warning on that, by the way.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t my brightest strategy, I’ll admit.” Had he drifted closer to her? Rhia found it a bit difficult to focus on his words. “I had pined over you for a century, imagined your voice and pictured the day I would officially meet you countless times. Can you blame me for losing all sense of dignity and propriety in that moment?”

Rhia gaped at him. “Could you try to be, oh I don’t know, less good at taking my breath away?” Eris’ eyebrows shot up. “I try to tease you about something and you turn it into a beautiful, heart-melting remark!”

“Are you asking me to not to say beautiful things to you?” Eris asked, his tone incredulous. “If it helps, you took my breath away the first moment I saw you, and you haven’t given it back since.”

Rhia ripped her hand from his to throw a pillow at his face. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

Eris caught the pillow easily and tossed it back to her. “I thought females enjoy compliments and beautiful prose. How am I supposed to impress you, then?”

“And what do you know about complimenting females?” Rhia narrowed her eyes in mock anger. “I thought you were tragically pining over me this past century.”

“Of course,” Eris acquiesced. “I haven’t even looked at anyone else in a hundred years. Maybe that’s why my attempts to flirt with you are so weak.” He glanced at the window briefly, drawing her gaze to the dark sky of night. “Will anyone worry that you haven’t returned home yet?”

Rhia sighed. She really did need to get back. Sofine would be out of her mind with worry and her students would expect to see her first thing tomorrow. “I should go.”

“Let me winnow you,” Eris insisted. “I know you’re more than capable but…” He hesitated for a moment, gaze sheepishly turning down to the floor. “I’ll feel better if I see you home safely, after all you had to go through today.”

She placed a finger on his chin, tilting his chin back up. “Please.” Grasping his arm tightly, however, she winnowed them to Malefic before his magic could spark. He let out a small gasp at the sudden movement, before shooting her a heart-stopping smile.

“More than capable,” he echoed. Rhia hid her blush by turning towards the door, removing her wards and leading him inside, neither one eager to end their time together.

They stared at each other, taking a minute to soak up the simple joy of knowing tomorrow would be better than today and that the story line hadn’t ended.

“I should--”

“Do you want to--”

A nervous chuckle. A confused glance. Eris cleared his throat.

“Do I want to what?”

Rhia rolled her eyes. “Would you like to stay the night? With me?”

Eris’ eyes widened. “Are you ready for that?”

“Not like that,” Rhia rushed to add. “I have a guest bedroom. I’m not… very good at sharing a bed.” She coughed once. “This is silly, we could’ve just stayed at the palace, instead of my boring guest room--”

“I’d love to,” Eris interrupted. “I’m sick of the palace. People always try to make me wake up early.”

It was such a small gesture, but such a lovely one too. Rhia couldn’t explain the fluttering feeling that came from having Eris spend the night, something that a normal couple might do. Even if they couldn’t share a bed and wake up in a tangle of limbs, having her beloved under the same roof felt like progress.

She expressed her thoughts in the only appropriate way. With a small smile on her face, Rhia stepped into Eris’ space and wrapped her arms around his waist. He responded in kind, reaching one hand up to cup her cheek, the other rubbing circles on her arm.

“Can I kiss you?” she breathed.

“Always.” He closed the immeasurable distance between them, their lips connecting in a way that sent shivers down Rhia’s spine. Kissing Eris felt like a dream, her body intangible and her mind foggy. The infamous prince of Autumn, the cruel son of a cruel High Lord, savoring her mouth like there was nothing else he’d rather be doing. She leaned even further into him, both their hearts jumping at the contact, before settling into a synchronized rhythm. Rhia heavily considered pushing herself in that moment, testing the boundaries of her sanity, and inviting him to her bed tonight.

Eris pulled away first. He placed a delicate kiss on one temple, then the other. “Show me my room?” His voice slid over her like a blanket.

“Follow me.” Rhia led him upstairs. She was equal parts disappointed and relieved that he’d asked before she could revoke her earlier insistence of different rooms. Kissing Eris should count as an intoxicant, she decided, prohibiting her from changing her mind on her boundaries. The thought made her chuckle.

“Will you let me in on the joke?” inquired the male of her thoughts.

Rhia opened the door to her barely-furnished guest room. “Maybe tomorrow. If you make coffee.”

The High Lord of Autumn pressed one last kiss to her unruly hair. “You drive a hard bargain, Rhia. Good night.”

Eris fell asleep quickly that night, the scent of his mate luring him into peacefulness. Rhia took a bit longer to succumb to exhaustion, however. Face blushing at her pathetic heart, she spent a good ten minutes writing down every lovely and romantic thing he had said to her that day. It was silly to think, but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing a single memory of this experience, of falling in love with Eris.

#eris #eris vanserra #acotar #acosf #sjm #mating bond fluff #autumn court #fluff #fluff so sweet it rots your teeth

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nebulablakemurphy · 4 years ago

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Misconception

John Murphy x Emori

Summary: In the aftermath of the last war Emori and John become a family of three.

Warnings: Possible spoilers for the 100 season 7, mentions of child birth.

Earth is nice. A bit different than any of them remember. Quiet, more serene; just the remaining members of the human race and the ocean, for the rest of forever.

The food is much nicer than algae, the ground vaster than the expanse of the tin can they’d called home for six years.

Yet not as luxurious as the castle they’d occupied in Sactum. But this is home, this is where they put roots down. This is where they’re going to live.

It’s been about three months, since judgement day. Death, transcendence, and everything in between.

Emori still loves catching her fish, proudly displaying them to anyone within shouting distance.

Her body is beginning to fill out, just the slightest bit. In a way that assures John she’s not hungry. She’s happy, and healthy, and wants for nothing.

Days are spent with friends, that have become family. Nights are reserved for themselves, more often than not, ending up a spent pile of limbs on their makeshift mattress.

“John?” Emori mumbles, still basking in the after glow of their love making. “Are you sleeping?”

“Emori, I love you,” Murphy sighs, bonelessly curled around her back, “but I’m gonna need a few more minutes before I’m good to go again.”

“Not that,” Emori huffs a laugh.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, toying with the fingers of her badass hand.

“If something happens to me-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” John says, reassuring himself as well. Emori is fine, she will be fine.

“I need to know that you won’t try to-“

“Hey,” John stops her a second time. “Baby, nothing is happening to you.“

Emori pauses, then forces the words past her lips. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Deafening silence.

Murphy clears his throat. “Jackson knows?”

“Confirmed it this morning.” She nods, staring down at her hands.

“We have Sanctum.” He reasons, “all the medicine there.”

“We do.”

“Then we’ll...figure the rest out.”

“Is this alright, John?” Emori asks, with bated breath.

“All those years on the ring, when we were playing primes; the timing was bad. Always a war to fight, people to save. Now, all we have is time.” He pauses, hoping the right words will come. “I don’t love the idea of sharing you, but if it’s with our kid, you won’t catch me complaining. What I should be asking, is if this is alright with you?”

Emori allows the corners of her mouth to curl into a smile. “I want this baby, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

John takes a steadying breath, placing a hand over the barely there bump. “You and this baby will have everything you want.” He kisses her shoulder, speaking directly against her skin. “I promise.”

“You’re what I want.” Emori whispers, resting her hand over his.

———————————————————

Emori is well on her way to the second trimester; but the nausea still gets the best of her on occasion. Causing her to just miss Raven’s shoes, as she purges the contents of her lunch onto the sand.

“You feeling alright?” Raven asks, immediately. “Should I get Murphy?”

“No, I’m fine.” Emori insists, with a shake of her head.

“That’s the second time this week.” Raven is not so easily convinced. “Jackson should check you out.”

“Jackson has,” Emori purses her lips. “Nothing to be concerned about. I’ll survive a little morning sickness, even if it does last past morning.”

“You’re-“ The mechanic breaks off. “You and Murphy? How?”

“After years of walking in on us, you know how.” Emori rolls her, brown, eyes.

“Well, congratulations. Right?” Raven claps Emori’s back, lightly.

Congratulations...yes, that’s right. “Thank you.”

“How far along?” The brunette leans in, with renewed interest.

“Almost three months.” Emori tells her.

“Have you thought about names yet? Because I think Raven could be unisex.”

Emori let’s out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to mention it to John,” she teases. “But I think you’ll be our only Raven.”

“It was worth a shot.” The woman shrugs. “Hey, do you want to see what I’ve been working on?”

“No nuclear reactor or toxic radiation involved?”

“Why would you think that?” Raven snarks.

“Then yes,” Emori agrees, “I’d love to.”

————————————————————

“Hey,” John greets his love, when she enters their hut. “Good day?”

“Raven and I are working on a pipe system that will pull drinking water from the valley. We’ll be able to get it from a tap.” Emori grins, a bit of pep in her step, as she comes to lie beside him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Exciting.” Murphy deadpans, leaning into her warmth.

“It means actual showers, John.” Emori stares down at him, propped up on one elbow. “No need for the lake or running back to Sactum.”

“I thought you liked sneaking off to Sanctum.” Murphy nuzzles the underside of her jaw.

“I miss Kaylee’s bed.”

“Maybe Raven can build you one of those.” He jest, crossing both legs at the ankle.

“Speaking of Raven,” Emori trails off. “She suggests that the baby should also be named Raven. I told her I’d run it by you.”

“Yeah...” Murphy narrows his eyes, “not gonna happen.”

“I don’t think we should name this baby after anyone, living or dead.” Emori admits. “Bringing honor to the people we’ve lost is much bigger than that. With this baby, we start over.”

“I want that too, Em; to start over.” John whispers, there are so many things he would do differently now. “Do you have any actual names in mind, for our bundle of joy?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ll come up with something.” They’ve got time. “If not, hey you, should be sufficient.”

“Very funny.” Emori frowns, feeling her stomach turn.

“You ok?” John takes her face in his hands.

“A little nauseous, it’ll pass.”

“Be nice to your mother.” Murphy insists, attention now directed at Emori’s belly. “I’d like to keep her around.”

————————————————————-

Days turn into weeks, Emori’s bump grows. There is no hiding it now, even if she wanted to. The others have been very supportive, offering their babysitting services, when the time comes.

Emori flips back the flap of their shelter, waddling over to their bed and flopping down, without a word.

“Rough day?” Murphy asks, coming to sit beside her.

Emori offers a groan, in response.

“Should I massage your feet or something?”

“Or something,” she grumbles, “my back hurts.”

“Say no more.” John eases skilled fingers over the skin of her back. Applying slight pressure to the tense muscles. “One back rub coming right up.”

Emori sighs, relaxing into his touch.

“We should revisit names. Hey you, could make their big debut anytime now.” He murmurs, their child responds to his voice, with a swift kick.

“What are you thinking?” Emori wonders, resting her hand against the fluttering life in her abdomen.

“Odessa.” If she hates it, back to the drawing board.

“It’s beautiful...” Her voice catches in her throat. Saying things aloud makes them real, names make them real. “Are you hoping for a girl?”

“I’m hoping for a healthy baby, and a healthy you.” John annunciates each word for emphasis.

Emori nods, knowing better than to press the issue. “Now we need something for a boy.”

“Lady’s choice.” He kisses the back of her neck.

“Kai?” It’s different and unique, just like their child will be.

“It’s got a ring to it.”

————————————————————-

“John!”

The sound of Emori’s frazzled cry has Murphy chucking his dinner plate aside. Racing for the tree line, where he finds her, perched on a log. One foot bare and elevated off the sand.

He kneels down, taking the raised leg into his lap. “What’s wrong?” John asks, unable to spot an obvious problem. “Did you trip? Something bite you?”

“My shoe fell off and I can’t reach.” Emori informs him, crossing both arms over her chest.

Relieved, he chuckles, “that’s adorable.”

“It’s not.” Emori scowls, “I hate it. Now get the shoe.”

“Oh come on, this is the home stretch. Might as well try to enjoy it.” John will miss her belly brimming with new life. The promise of a future he wasn’t sure they’d have.

“Would you enjoy not being able to see your toes?” Emori snaps. She will do anything for her child, but she misses her independence.

“There are worse things,” he shrugs, bending down to retrieve the shoe. “Besides, I’m more than happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Emori fights back a smile. Watching him complete the task, with a brisk kiss to her lips.

————————————————————

Emori’s pained groan wakes John, from a dead sleep.

“‘Mori?” He grumbles, rubbing at tired eyes.

“Don’t panic,” Emori says, curling in on herself. “I’m having contractions.”

“Yeah?” He springs into action. No false alarm this time. “How far apart?”

“Not far enough.” She attempts to lighten the mood.

“We need to wake up Jackson, and get you to Sanctum. Can you walk?”

“I can try.” She nods, through gritted teeth.

“Never mind, I’ve got you.” Murphy sighs, lifting Emori carefully into his arms.

“Before we go...” Emori stalls, knowing he won’t like what she has to say. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Talking can wait, this can’t.” Murphy replies, moving quickly toward the doctor’s tent.

“If things don’t go as planned and it’s a choice, between me and the baby; you choose the baby. You choose the baby over me, you choose this baby over everyone.”

“Emori, we’re not doing this now.” He shakes his head.

“Promise me, John.” Emori feels tears burning at the back of her eyes, but makes no effort to fight them.

“Emori-“

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.“

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” This is the time that everything goes to plan. This is the time it has to.

“Promise me.” Emori’s voice is hoarse, as another contraction seizes her muscles.

“I promise.” He promises that neither of them are going anywhere. Losing Emori once was bad enough.

————————————————————-

They’re back in the operation room, the same one where John lost the love of his life. The equipment is here, poised and ready to go. It only makes sense for it to be here. Fate is cruel that way.

“Alright, Emori,” Jackson touches her knee. “You’re a full ten centimeters. When you feel the next contraction, I want you to push.”

John doesn’t miss the nervous tremor of her bottom lip. “You and me,” he reminds her. ”We’re doing this together.”

“I love you, John.” Emori smiles, through the pain. Then taking a deep breath in, she bears down.

“I love you too.” Murphy whispers, squeezing her hand tightly. Although it kills him to see Emori in pain, John remains calm and focused. This time it’s for something, this time she isn’t dying. “Good job, baby.”

They continue on like this, until her limbs are heavy with exertion, and his hand has lost all feeling.

The exasperated sound that leaves Emori’s lips, with a puff of air, is bearable. The tortured whimper that follows makes John wish he could do it for her.

“Emori, you’re doing great.” Jackson assures her. Stealing a glance at the beeping monitors beside the bed. “But I’m starting to see signs of fetal distress.”

“What’s that mean?” Murphy demands.

“It means we’ve gotta move this baby.” Jackson confirms both of their fears.

“I’m trying,” Emori says.

“What if she can’t?” John asks, watching fear and defeat paint her features.

“Then the only option would be a cesarean section.” None of them want that. But they have the equipment, he has the experience.

“Look, no offense, but we all remember what happened the last time you pulled something out of her.”

“This is different.” Jackson reminds him, “no internal damage.”

“We’ve been at this for hours, maybe Jackson’s right,” Emori agrees. Anything for this baby.

“I know you’re tired. But I need you to finish strong. Our baby needs you to finish strong. When the next contraction comes, you’re gonna push like hell, and we’re gonna have this baby.” Murphy insists, helping her lean up, so that he can climb onto the table behind her, for support. Her back now resting against his chest, with his legs bracketing hers.

“Ok,” Emori nods, adjusting her grip on John’s hands. “But if it doesn’t work-“

“It will work.” It has to. John rests his cheek against hers. Feeling Emori’s body begin to tense with the next contraction. “3,2,1, go.”

Through gritted teeth, Emori finally manages to move the stubborn baby down. Of all the birthing positions they’ve tried, this one finally seems to help a bit.

“Here comes the head,” Jackson announces.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Emori.” John kisses her sweat damp temple, her head clunking back onto his shoulder. “Deep breath, do it again.”

The scream that follows could raise the dead, full fear and desperation and then-

A second voice joins hers, much smaller and higher in pitch. A baby, their baby. Announcing it’s arrival to the world.

“Hey, you’re done.” Murphy says, grounding her to reality. “You did it.”

“I did it,” she smiles, peeling her eyes open.

Jackson places the wailing child on her chest.

Still covered in dark blood, she is the most perfect, wonderful, thing either of them have ever seen.

“Hi baby,” Emori let’s tears fall freely, “my baby.”

“Get a load of you, beautiful.” Murphy whispers to the infant. Her tiny eyes are open wide, trying to focus on the sound. “Welcome to the world.”

“She’s got your eyes.” Emori would recognize that color blue anywhere.

“You ok?” John asks, noticing how lax she’s become.

“Fine.” Emori assures him. “Tired, but fine.”

“Everything alright down there, doc?” He calls to Jackson.

“Everything’s good.” The doctor is all smiles. “Once she delivers the placenta, I’ll stitch her up and we’re all clear.”

Both their heads snap toward him.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got anesthetic this time.” Jackson clarifies.

Relieved Emori sinks back into John, humming to the newborn, who is beginning to stur.

————————————————————-

The sleepless nights are endless. Leaving the first time parents worried that maybe they aren’t cut out for this. Maybe they aren’t doing enough. But after a few weeks, they fall into a routine.

Odessa is a happy baby, with her father’s eyes and a head full of chestnut curls. She resembles Emori for the most part, which pleases John to no end. The little girl has everyone wrapped around the tiny fingers of her badass hand.

“Did you teach her to fish yet?” John calls, spotting Emori at the shoreline. Holding their daughter to face the waves, basking in the orange glow of the setting sun. “She’s gotta start pulling her weight around here,” he jests. Closing the distance between them, to caress Odessa’s chubby cheek.

“She might be a little young to cast a net.” Emori laughs, feeling John press a kiss to her head. “But she’ll learn.”

The eleven month old kicks her legs, reaching out for her father. “Dada.”

“She wants you.” Emori takes a step toward him.

“Not your finest decision, kid.” He mutters, under his breath. Taking the little girl into his arms. “I’d much rather be held by your mother.”

Emori smiles at the scene before her. Their daughter latches onto Murphy’s nose, with her right hand. “Fatherhood suits you, John.”

“I don’t know about all that.” The only thing that he knows for sure, is that he can’t mess up. He can’t mess her up.

“I do.” Emori assures him.

Murphy stares at his wife, with nothing but adoration and wonder; their child in his arms. “We should do this again sometime.” He nods toward Odessa.

“Funny,” Emori raises her brows. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Misconception taglist: @arcticaid @camilahopper05 @silver-gold-copper

#emori the 100 #john murphy x emori #john murphy #memori #emori x murphy #emori kom spacekru #john murphy fanfic #the 100 spoilers #the 100 season seven #the 100 imagine #the 100 fanfiction #memori fanfiction #memori fic #Christinawritesthe100

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wowzers-howzers · 5 years ago

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Ok *slaps hands together* got some good good content right here. Rohan x wife!reader x Jotaro

Reader is joot’s wife, sex pollen stand trope, you know the deal. It’s obviously smut so like yea. Also, it’s a collab with @sacreddarknesss and we listened to Dreamscape the entire time we wrote. Brit Knee is an OC me and my friend came up with on the fly.

Mori mori mori moriocho radioooooo

Morioh was a quiet town, save for the occasional unruly stand user. Rohan sighed to himself in boredom. The only bad part of this town was the fact that there was nothing to do. When inspiration is lacking, the only thing to do was wander around until it struck.

The artist stands up, slowly stretching his back out. Hearing a few pops, he smiles to himself. Maybe he could go check on that new cafe downtown? Or maybe he could people watch down at the beach? Options.

Rohan checks his Rolex and notes that it’s a little after lunchtime, prime time at the cafe. He decides to go there and packs up his camera and a small sketch pad should inspiration strike him.

Walking briskly down the sidewalk, Rohan sees a streak of pink in the corner of his eye. Odd; He slows his walk to a stop and looks around cautiously. Something isn’t right.

Rohan’s emerald eyes flit across the street and at the various suburban homes lined up neatly as far as he can see. Nothing seems off, until he notices an unusual plant breaking up the monotony of the pristine lawns. It looks to be a large Calla lily in full bloom. That shouldn’t even be possible, Morioh doesn’t have the proper climate to support those. Odd.

Deciding to investigate, Rohan crosses the road and silently creeps toward the flower. Inspecting the leaves, suddenly a fine mist sprays out from the stalk of the flower. A sickly sweet scent envelopes Rohan in a stupor. His senses are overwhelmed with the strong smell and he finds himself on his knees coughing. His eyes are watering from the aroma.

“What the hell?!” He shouts, covering his mouth with his shirt. Rohan quickly scans his surroundings, hoping to find the stand user, but he has no such luck. Damn. He fishes his phone out of his messenger bag and dials Jotaro’s number. He was given orders to call Jotaro should any stand related problems arise.

Rohan waits with bated breath as the line rings several times. His hands grip his pants tightly, knuckles turning white from strain. Rohan feels his entire body burning, like a flame swallowing him up. A haze falls over his vision. This stand could pose a serious threat if he doesn’t get Jotaro here now to take it out.

Finally, the line clicks and a female voice greets him on the other side.

“Hello? Who is it?”

Rohan’s throat tightens up and his mouth goes dry.

“Get Jotaro,” he manages to sputter. He hears a commotion on the other end as (y/n) fetches her husband. Rohan swallows roughly, trying to ignore the pulsating tension flowing through his body.

“I don’t know where he is. Are you okay?” Concern is evident in her voice.

Rohan clenches his jaw.

“Enemy stand. Go to the old bookstore. I’m across the street,” he gasps out.

The dial tone drones on. He hopes that she is hurrying. He doesn’t know how much more he can deal with choking every time he breathes.

Rohan lays down on the cool grass, his senses heightened and feeling every blade of grass against his skin. His head pounds with what feels like a migraine and his vision swims deliriously.

He can’t get the sound of her voice out of his head. The soft tone plays on repeat.

Jotaro’s wife was a wildcard. She was a powerful stand user, but she rarely used her powers, preferring to be a support on the back lines. She had a quick wit and didn’t hesitate to give verbal lashings to anyone she believed deserved it. The image of her stuck in his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could never quite capture her in drawing. Her soft features, silky hair, lovely curves. Wait. Rohan tried to snap himself out of it. He had never thought of her in any sexual way, mainly out of respect to Jotaro, but now? He couldn’t help imagining her plush thighs in his hands, her gasps for more, how warm and soft she would feel around him. What was he doing?

Rohan feels a new tension in his stomach and notices his pants tightening slightly. He moves to sit up and groans at the friction. Why was he so hypersensitive? It must have something to do with that stand.

Panicking slightly, he realizes that he may not be able to actually fight the stand user. His mind is too clouded and stuck on his base desires. Part of him has the sick desire that (Y/N) will help him with that after they defeat the stand user. Rohan imagines her form, covered in glistening sweat after an exhausting battle, chest moving up and down as she pants.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears a shout of his name. Oh. His name. The way it flows out of her mouth has him whining. More. He wants her to say his name more. (Y/N) sprints across the street and kneels down next to Rohan.

“Are you hurt? What happened? Did you see the user?” She rapidly fires questions at him. Rohan stares at her in a daze, unable to speak. She frowns slightly and puts a hand to his forehead.

“You’re burning up!” She shouts, but Rohan can only comprehend her soft skin on him, hoping to feel even more. He barely chokes down a whimper when she takes her hand back.

Her (e/c) eyes shoot around her surroundings, looking for anyone who may be watching. She slowly stands up, clenching her fists as she calls out her stand.

She notices movement behind the curtained window of the house whose lawn they were in. Bingo!

Bounding to the door, (y/n) quickly rips the door open and grabs the user before they have the chance to even react.

“What did you do? Tell me what you did!” She yells at the cowering man in her grasp. He looks back at (y/n) in utter disbelief, how had he been found out so quickly? He smirks as he stands up slowly, looking over the female, assessing how much of a threat she is. (y/n) glares at the man, his long blonde hair parting on the left side, with hints of a strawberry pink highlight going down the middle of the part. His blue cyan eyes look her up and down rapidly, perhaps if he activates his stand in time he could have a chance of seducing her.

He smiles widely now that he has the skeleton of a plan forming in his mind. He adjusts his belt buckle, showing off both the gender symbols, his entire outfit screaming 80’s. The white bell bottom pants, the pink v-neck shirt, and the bedazzled pink scarf around his tense neck showing off one of his many amazing hobbies.

“Why hello there beautiful, what brings you over to my humble abode?”

“Well I can’t kick your ass without coming inside now can I?”

“Aweee easy kitten, I don’t mean much trouble. I just wanted to help your friend out there, it seems like he was a little wound up.”

“What the hell did you do to him!”

“Heh, well sugar, I’ll tell ya, if you let me have a little fun with ya.” His smile grows wider as (y/n) glares harshly at him, ready to kick his ass into the next millennium.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but there is now way in hell I would ever even consider ‘messing around’ with you. Now tell me what the hell you’ve done to my friend or I’ll beat your ass!”

“Oooh~, kinky. Well, my dear, my name is Brit Knee and it seems that I’m going to have to teach you a lesson on how to be much nicer to people, you naughty little thing.~”

(Y/n) grimaces in disgust. Fucking cretin. Brit waves his hand up dramatically in the air as his stand materializes, a bright pink stand covered in calla lillies emerges from the ground. It’s face is made from one giant calla lily, and it makes a noise which roughly sounds like a horse neighing. It raises its petal covered arms and fires lillies at (y/n), who quickly doges out of the way.

“That’s it!” (y/n) yells summoning her stand, a giant dolphin-human hybrid emerges from behind (y/n).

“Tell me what you did,” she growls out, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him in the air. Brit chokes at the pressure on his neck.

“Fine!” He sputters. (Y/N) drops him to the ground abruptly, standing over the pathetic man ready to fight if he tries anything.

“Bare Naked Ladies is an aphrodisiac, but I can’t take away its effect,” he cries. “Once you inhale it’s fumes, if you don’t have sex within 24 hours you die!” Brit whimpers on the ground, curling into a ball. “I can’t do anything now so please don’t kill me!”

(Y/N) scowls in disgust. This stand’s power is absolute hedonism. What’s this about dying? She never knew a stand could do something like that.

“What do you mean? Are you even telling the truth?” She interrogates the bawling man.

“I said what I meant! He will die! I swear I’m not lying! Please don’t kill me!” He continues cowering like a little bitch.

“Well how do I stop it?” She questions.

“Well...uhhhhh...hmmm...my best recommendation is take him to a whore house,” he mutters under his breath.

“A what?!”

“Get him a prostitute!” Brit Knee cries out.

“He’ll have to fuck it out of his system!”

“What the fuck kinda stand is that?!” She screams.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me! I am creature I cannot help this!” He cries. (y/n) glares at the broken man before her, almost pitying him. But then she pushes her pity aside and decides to deck him in the face.

-Time skip-

Rohan is curled against the ground, cradling his massive headache. (Y/N) slowly approaches him, hearing him groan in pain.

“How could I be so stupid? Putting my face in a plant! I, the great Rohan Kishibe, have made an utterly terrible mistake!” He cries out to himself.

“Shut up, stop being a baby,” (Y/N) scowls at him. “I found the stand user, he’s done. Let’s get you fixed up,” she leans down to pick up the smaller man.

Rohan cries out almost immediately after (y/n) touches him, which makes her pull away in shock. She sees him sweating and clenching his jaw. Rohan struggles to get to his feet alone.

“Don’t touch me,” he breathes out.

“Are you okay to walk?”

“Who did this?” Rohan demands.

“Brit Knee bitch,” she solemnly answers. “Sorry, that was a joke,” she trails off.

Rohan doesn’t even acknowledge her, “Where is Jotaro?”

“I don’t know. I’ll take you to the hotel in the meantime, you’re in no state to go anywhere alone right now,” she reasons, offering an arm to Rohan again, which he promptly refuses.

“We can call Koichi when we get back. He may know where Jotaro is.” (Y/N) looks sympathetically to the artist. He was drenched in sweat and visibly struggling to keep a grip on himself. He walked with a drunken stupor and (y/n) couldn��t help but grab his shoulders to steady him.

“Please,” he begs her, “I don’t know if you should do that.”

“Well I do know that you can’t walk so unless you have a better idea, this will do,” she snaps at him. Picking him up in her arms, she speedwalks to the hotel, ignoring any passerby’s who look oddly at the pair.

(y/n) enters the hotel, doing her best to ignore the gazes of the staff and any guests who happen to walk by. They probably thought she was having an affair, as they knew that she had checked in with her husband who was definitely not the man she was carrying up to her room right now. Rohan tries his hardest to ignore the problem arising in him, but it’s hard to do when the woman you’ve been silently pining after is holding you in her arms. (y/n) quickly makes her way to the suit and enters, using her foot to kick the door closed. She makes her way over to the bed, gently setting him down, much to his dismay.

Rohan breathes in the smell of the sheets and notices how much they smell like her. How many times had she and Jotaro laid in this bed together? If only she knew how badly he wanted to take Jotaro’s place, holding her and loving her until neither of them could stay awake.

Oblivious to Rohan’s thoughts, (y/n) quickly dials Koichi’s home phone. She bounces leg to leg, praying for someone to pick up soon. The line connects and she smiles brightly, happy for a breakthrough. Rohan notices her smile and can’t help but breath out heavily, wishing he could make her smile like that.

“Hello, this is the Hirose residence. Who is this?”

“Hey Coochie,” (y/n) laughs to herself at her joke, “Is Jotaro there?”

Rustling is heard on the other end as Coochie goes to check, a distant sounding “yes” is heard as he readjusts the receiver.

“Yes he’s here, want me to get him Mrs. Kujo?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He sets the phone down and runs off leaving (y/n) on hold.

(Y/N) worriedly looks toward the artist resting on her bed, hoping that Jotaro has an answer on what to do about this. The phone is picked back up and a gruff voice answers.

“(y/n), what’s wrong?”

“Well, ya see, um…” she trails off. “Rohan got attacked by a stand, I took care of the user but there are some...residual effects.”

“Residual effects?”

“Um, he is, uh, incapacitated by, well I don’t know how to put it. The user said something about fuck or die.”

“What?”

“Fuck or die? I don’t know but he made it clear that if Rohan doesn’t get release within 24 hours, he will die.”

“Well isn’t there a strip club in this town? Take him there. He has enough money to get a happy ending,” Jotaro reasons.

“I don’t think so? Even if they did, I really doubt it’d be like American strip clubs where money will get you anything.”

“Does he have anyone who he can call for this?”

“What, like a booty call? Him? Fat chance of that, but I’ll ask,” she answers. Calling out to Rohan, “Do you have anyone who um, you could ask for, hm how should I put this? A favor? Of the sexual kind?”

“I’m not a whore,” he shoots back.

“Yea that’s a no from him,” she informs her husband.

“No wonder he is so awful. Can’t even get laid. Well, do what you have to do.”

“What? What are you saying Jojo?”

“Fuck him. Quick and easy. It’s not like we have any other options. We can’t just let him die. Good grief, woman, what do you think I’m saying?”

“But! I can’t just! I-I can’t do that!” She protests.

“Why not? You aren’t cheating on me, and it’s not like he will come back for more. If that’s the only way to save him, I’ll allow it.”

“Jojo! I feel like I should have a say in this!”

“Okay. What do you want to do about this? Do you have any better suggestions?”

“Not really, but there must be some other way,” she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What’s the issue then?”

“I-I don’t want to do this alone…”

“Good grief, speak your mind!”

“Please come back. We can do it...together?”

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes,” he abruptly ends the call.

(Y/N) let’s out an unsteady breath. What had she just agreed to? A threesome with her husband and Rohan? How would that even work? She glances over to Rohan, seeing him panting.

Five minutes pass agonizingly slowly. Finally, the door to the room is opened and quickly slammed shut as Jotaro stalks into the room.

Jotaro glares at the man on the bed, “Pathetic.”

Rohan scoots away from the side of the bed closest to Jotaro, inadvertently bumping right up against (y/n).

“Are you sure this is the only way?” (Y/N) looks at Jotaro.

Rohan covers his lap under the fluffy duvet and looks down.

(Y/N) rubs his back, to which Rohan responds with a low gasp.

Jotaro’s eyes squint, “It seems this is the best course of action.”

Rohan looks between the two, silently praying that one of them will break the tension and just start.

(Y/N) shakily puts her hand against Rohan’s chest.

“Don’t worry, we will take care of you,” she soothes.

Rohan shudders at her low voice and pushes against her touch. Jotaro gets the message and stands behind (y/n) resting his hands on her hips.

She nervously pulls Rohan forward into her grasp and gently kisses him.

It’s like a shock to his system. Rohan can’t help himself as he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her back onto the bed, her legs straddling him. Jotaro leans over and leaves soft kisses up and down (y/n)’s neck, ending by sucking against the junction where her neck meets her shoulder.

Rohan’s hands roam all over her body, coming to rest on her chest. He gives an experimental squeeze, eyes lighting up when he hears her shuddering groan. Jotaro holds her hips tightly in his own grasp, hot breath fanning across the back of her neck. The taller man pulls her ass towards himself and slowly grinds against her, feeling himself start to harden.

(Y/N) reaches a tentative hand down to Rohan’s lap, and squeaks in surprise when he roughly grabs her hand and pushes his hard length against it. Rohan shakily sighs, finally getting some form of friction. Taking his lead, she massages him, pressing the palm of her hand firmly along his cock.

She sighs as Jotaro, kneels behind her, giving her support from the awkward angle she was in. He gently caresses her ass, ghosting his large hands over her heat.

Rohan whines against (y/n)’s touch and quickly breaks apart from her soft kisses to take his shirt off, finding the constriction unbearable.

“Calm down there buddy,” (y/n) laughs nervously, only to be met with Rohan’s lust-blown eyes. His mouth is parted slightly, panting. Rohan looks to Jotaro, as if asking permission to do something. Jotaro nods slightly. Rohan roughly pulls your shirt up and off of you, leaving you in a bra. Jotaro makes quick work of that, flinging the now useless garment somewhere in the room.

You gasp in shock and Rohan greedily takes one of your nipples into his mouth, already roughly grabbing and massaging the other one.

“R-Rohan!”

He growls against you and lightly nips at your sensitive chest. Jotaro, not one to be outdone, pulls your pants down and off of your legs, leaving you in your underwear. He presses one hand roughly against your clothed slit. Your back arches against him.

Rohan pulls you down to sit on his lap, relishing in the heat between your legs rubbing against him deliciously. Jotaro glares at him, resigning himself to holding your head back for heated kissing.

You wiggle your hips, gyrating on Rohan, sending him into even more of a frenzy than before. Jotaro snakes an arm around you to reach down your front side. His hand momentarily rests against the elastic band of your panties before diving underneath, teasing you with one finger against your lips. You whine against him, trying to adjust your hips to feel more, but Jotaro refuses to give in and finger you. Instead, he gently presses against your clit, adding more and more pressure every time you move against him.

“J-jojo, please,” she whines needily.

“Please what?”

“Please go in, please use your hand, I can’t take the teasing,” (y/n) grinds against Rohan and Jotaro’s fingers.

Suddenly, Jotaro dips his fingers into her wet pussy, roughly finger-fucking her. She screams out, slamming her hips down, making Rohan moan as well.

Hearing him, (y/n) looks down and sees how painfully clothed he still is.

“Rohan,” she mewls. “Take your pants off, please~”

He visibly shakes, hearing her beg and say his name so sweetly is like music to his ears. He slides his pants down, leaving him in only boxers. (Y/N) palms against him before grabbing him through the thin material. He gasps at her hard touch. Keening against her for more, Rohan bucks his hips into her grasp.

(Y/N)’s thighs squeeze against Jotaro’s hand, prompting him to take his hand out, seductively licking her moisture from his fingers before giving her another open-mouth kiss.

Tasting herself on him, she moans against him, tilting her hips against him to give him a roll. Jotaro breathes out heavily before pulling back and stripping off everything. (Y/N) finds herself licking her lips, watching her husband take it all off for her before he rejoins her on the bed. Jotaro presses his thick length against her still clothed pussy, rubbing in between her thighs, groaning at the feeling.

Rohan watches with rapt attention, the pure eroticism of the action making him drool. He watches (y/n)’s face as it contorts in pleasure. Rohan grips himself, tugging himself out of his boxers, grabbing her hand to grip him directly.

His tip is leaking, after being so needy and wanting for so long, he can’t take much more waiting.

Jotaro grabs (y/n)’s hips, hands playing with the band of her panties before ripping them off.

“H-hey! Those were my good ones!” She protests.

“Shut up, I’ll buy you more,” Jotaro silences her, one hand holding her neck, not putting pressure on it yet, but just holding it there. Rohan, taking the moment she is distracted, runs his fingers through her folds, gathering up moisture.

She squeaks in shock, watching as Rohan puts the finger in his mouth, sucking her essence off of him.

“Exquisite,” he sighs, gazing at her adoringly.

“Mine,” Jotaro replies, possessively grabbing (y/n)’s body, positioning himself at her entrance.

“Me first,” he grunts, relishing in the feeling of her tight walls clamping down on him.

(Y/N) let’s out a shaky gasp, never getting used to how well her husband fills her up, just how large he is. Jotaro finally bottoms out, only to pull her hips back up before dropping her back on his dick. Rohan watches, eyes stuck on the sight of her cunt swallowing the large dick whole.

“Make yourself useful,” Jotaro glares at Rohan, prompting him to stimulate her clit while she bounces on his cock. Rohan eagerly complies, using his hands to rub against her.

(Y/N) cries out, overstimulated from Jotaro’s dick jackhammering into her combined with Rohan’s skilled hands working her clit.

“G-Gonna cum,” she gasps out, thighs clenching, hips bucking against Jotaro.

“Cum for me, show him how well I treat you,” Jotaro growls in her ear.

(Y/N)’s orgasm hits her like a freight train, spasms ripping through her body as her vision whites out from the pleasure. Her pussy clenches onto Jotaro’s cock, bringing him to release too.

He holds her hips steadily against his own, panting in her ear as he empties himself out into her. Rohan finds himself transfixed by the sight of Jotaro’s cum oozing out of her.

“Here. Your turn,” Jotaro removes himself from her folds still breathing heavily.

“Blow his mind, honey,” he whispers against her ear. (Y/N) shudders at the gravelly tone in his voice before nodding, falling down to cage Rohan between her arms. Her arms support her weight, not wanting to just fall against the smaller man. He is broken out of his stupor when she lines herself up against his cock and sinks down slowly.

To say Rohan enjoyed it would be an understatement. It was pure bliss, Jotaro’s cum acting as a lubricant, allowing him to slide against her velvety walls. The warmth made him feel like he was melting underneath her, eyes rolling back as she finally reached the bottom.

Giving an experimental roll of her hips, Rohan’s arm shot up to her back, his nails digging in in pleasure.

“A-Ah~ (y/n)! Please,” he begged. Oh how the mighty fall. The great Rohan Kishibe, reduced to a begging fool at the slightest provocation. If he had the mental wherewithal to be ashamed, he would be, but right now, the only thing he could think about was how warm and wet her pussy was as she bounced up and down on him.

(Y/N)’s sweat-covered body warmed up again, the angle Rohan’s dick hitting her in just the right way. Her back arched, pushing her pelvis against him. The new position added just the right amount of friction against her clit with every bounce of her body.

“Rohan, I’m, fuck, I’m cumming!” She shouted, her hips losing rhythm as she ground herself against him, clenching down. Rohan moves his hands to her hips and roughly pulled her up and thrust into her, not wanting to lose the delicious friction.

Gasping out, (y/n)’s body went into overdrive, the added pleasure wiping her out entirely. “F-fuck~!”

Rohan moaned his approval, hips canting to meet her hips every time he dropped her down onto his dick.

“So close,” he cried out. Unable to hold out any longer, Rohan slammed with more fervor. Like an animal seeking release, Rohan held her body tightly against him until finally the coil of tension snapped, crying out as he rode out his orgasm.

“(Y/N)!” Rohan couldn’t help but scream her name, shooting his cum inside her to mix with Jotaro’s. His vision was filled with stars, drool spilling out of his parted mouth, body entirely blissed out.

Jotaro watched in amusement, he knew his wife was a dream in bed. He watched as she rolled off of Rohan to the side. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her to the bathroom to clean her up.

“You’re welcome,” he said, kicking the bathroom door closed to clean (y/n) up.

Rohan, thoroughly spent, stared up at the ceiling, unable to move from his pure exhaustion. His body finally started ramping down, finally relaxing after hours of pure tension.

#My writing #rohan x reader #rohan x reader x jotaro #jotaro x reader #part 4 jojo #rohan kishibe #jotaro kujo #youtube

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annie-blackhill · 4 years ago

Note

Hi~ Could I request oneshot Chuuya x fem!reader where they’re partners and she gets a new partner so they’ve been spending time together like training or going to missions together and chuuya gets jealous and they kinda get into an argument about it~

If its possible can you give it a happy ending I know it’s too much sorry~ tysm 🤍

#3 Request

Oh, hun it ain't too much at all! I live for all of your ideas, prompts and amazing minds!!! Thank you for your request this is by far my 3rd request!!!

Alright, so I kinda decided to make it in Dazai Dark Era, so, reader will be partnered up with Dazai for awhile.

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Chuuya wasn't always the type of be too jealous or petty when it came to his partner and best friend (L/N) (Y/N).

He's known her for quite the time and they've been friends for long. But as he sat in his office and stared as Dazai and (Y/N) discussed about the upcoming mission they were partnered together to finish, he felt his chest burn with jealously and his mind was filled with red. The red of Dazai's blood.

He was no yandere but still, Dazai always managed to get on his nerves without even trying to do it at all. Kudos to Dazai for his talented skills!

"(N/N)-chan~ I think that's all for now. If you need or want to know anything else for the prep of the mission, just ask me, alright?" Dazai purred at the woman while sending Chuuya discreet wink and sly smirk that (Y/N) didn't notice at all.

"Of course, Dazai-san. I'll you around then. Oh and Chuuya, Dazai-san, I'll be heading out for awhile. I'm sending Mori-san some important documents concerning the last mission Chuuya and I went on together," (Y/N) excused herself from the two boy before walking out of their shared office room.

"Chuuya, I can't believe that you're actually jealous! I knew you liked her! Just admit it, Chuuya, you like (Y/N)!!!" Dazai exclaimed, teasing the ginger.

"So, what if I am? It's got nothing to do with you, Dazai!" Chuuya started shouting at the bandage wrapped boy and that was the start of a huge argument that flew completely away from the original topic and moved onto a mere playground insult throwing game.

"I leave the two of you alone for 1 second and this happens. Why am I not surprised?" (Y/N) said sarcastically as oon as she entered. Both boys immediately stopped and starting pointing fingers at each other.

"(N/N)-chan! Chuuya was the one who started it!" Dazai whined.

"(Y/N), Dazai was the one who started it!" Chuuya defended himself.

"Shut up the two of you, I still have reports to finish and Mori-san told me to inform you two that all of you're reports are due tomorrow!" (Y/N) scolded the two boys before starting to rapidly type on her laptop.

Most of the afternoon flew by just like that with the three of them trying their best to finish their leftover paperwork.

Dazai had been the first to realize that they were finally off work.

"Ah, I'll be late for my little meet up by now," Dazai groaned as he quickly saved all of the files and then started to quickly pack up his things.

"Well then, see you tomorrow, Chuuya, (N/N)-chan~!" Dazai said as he exited the office.

As soon as Dazai was out of the office, Chuuya decided to confront (Y/N) about his concerns about her getting closer to Dazai.

"(Y/N)... Maybe you should asked boss whether or not you could either ask out of the upcoming mission or maybe you could get someone else to be your partner," Chuuya suggested.

"Chuuya, you now that I can't go against whatever Mori-san has asked of me to do. If he's assigned me with Dazai the there has to be a reason as to why he did so," (Y/N) reasoned with Chuuya.

"Dazai is nuts, (Y/N)! He's a f***ing psychopath! Have you seen how that guy's mind is?! He'll twist the whole situation to match his needs and then he'll trick you to fullfil his needs and you'll end up being the fool in the end!" Chuuya exclaimed.

"Just because Dazai is smarter than you doesn't mean that he's a psycho, Chuuya!" (Y/N) argued.

And that was how the argument sparked like a volcano ready to erupt, and erupt it did.

Their shouts and yells jumped off the four walls of the room and bounced back to them, making their shouts and yells more powerful than they actually were.

"I'm just trying to look out for you, okay?! You're my best friend, my partner!!! Andi like you! I like you so much that even the smallest thought of Dazai using you makes me want to choke that bastard to death right here and now!!! I want to keep you safe!" Chuuya shouted without even realising what he had just confessed to her and when he saw (Y/N)'s beautiful (E/C) orbs widen, he realized his mistake.

"You like me?" she muttered, eyes still wide.

Chuuya immediately looked away, cheeks flushed a light pink and he was embarrassed beyond his wits, he didn't expect his confession to be like this.

"I like you too," (Y/N) blurted out too.

This made Chuuya literally choke on his spit.

"You're not saying that out of pity, right? You genuinely like me too, right?" Chuuya asked, the look in his eyes almost made (Y/N) melt because at that moment he almost looked like a lost child, desperate and disbelief in his eyes.

"I'm not saying it out of pity at all! I really do like you back!" (Y/N) answered with a bright smile of assurance on her face.

"If that's the case then... Will you go out on a date with me tomorrow?" Chuuya asked, scratching the back of his neck out is embarrassment.

"Of course, I will," (Y/N) replied.

At that, Chuuya lit up like a Christmas tree and they both packed up their things and decides to head out for a celebratory wine drinking outing.

To say the least, Chuuya has never felt more grateful than he ever did to Dazai than that day for making him so jealous.

✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️

Thank you so much for reading,I hope you like the one-shot, and I'm sorry if it was too short for your liking but I'm a little busier with online school these days.

I'm still accepting requests though, so please send in requests if you all feel like it!

Hearts and hugs,

Anis the Unknown

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs

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hermannsthumb · 5 years ago

Note

different anon but i would love that rec list you mentioned ....👀

ok here we go my most up-to-date and comprehensive newt/hermann rec list yet! combining elements from all the other ones i’ve made! this is in no way a be-all-end-all of the best newt/herm fic or anything, these are just ones ive remembered to bookmark--i’ll def edit and add stuff as i go bc i know i left a bunch off

for the most part they stay away from uprising bc i don’t like to read uprising compliant fic LOL

G/Not Rated:

Portrait. by VictoryCandescenceWe all know about Becket and Mori, the Last Rangers of Hong Kong and the late Marshall Stacker Pentecost. But Doctors Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler might be two you haven’t heard about until now. And when you hear their story, you’ll wonder how it ever stayed a secret for so long.

the future’s owned by you and me by kaiyenYears after they stopped writing each other, Newt and Hermann run into each other on the steps of Cambridge University Library. Quite literally.

The Love And Care Of Your Pet Kaiju Skinmite by IasNewt brings home a new pet. Hermann is justifiably horrified.

Don't Hang Up Yet, I'm Not Done by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse“With all due respect, sir,” said Hermann, “I fail entirely to see any humor whatsoever in this situation.”“Yes,” said Pentecost. “It adds to the effect.”The world is ending, Hermann Gottlieb is a radio show host, and Newton Geiszler is absolutely convinced it all has something to do with aliens.

Alternate by perniciousLizardNewt accidentally ends up in a place that’s almost exactly like his own reality, with one major difference.

Operation: RTF by purpleeyesandbowtiesMako’s bio teacher is acting weird. Well, weirder than normal. And there’s a new teacher who Mr. Geizler claims is a college buddy, but there’s something about this whole thing that feels….off. Naturally, the only reasonable solution is Operation: RTF.

Hypothetically by supersymmetryAka Tendo sets Newt and Hermann up on a blind date because someone had to.

Mariposa (aka westworld au) by janewestinTwo years after his last encounter with the host called Newton Geiszler, Hermann finds himself back in the park.

D = V * T by seabassThere are no monsters, mutants, or war. Robots do not stand as gladiators against the test of Man. Warriors do not drift together, close in thought and will and action.There’s just a hole in the desert. And it grows.

there’ll be no life of crime by ByacolateAs much as he respects Stacker Pentecost, Hermann hates him a little for dangling Hannibal Chau in front of Newton’s eyes like a toy mouse on a string.+ the rest of the series…..!

Ships Ill-Lit At Night by Rikku (the same author has an excellent uprising fix-it if you’re interested)Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler are correspondents for years before they first meet, and then it is years more before they will admit to even being friends. Meanwhile the war rages, the monsters that rise from the sea surely too powerful to be fought with brittle ships of wood and sail.At least when the Fleet fights it, they must all stand together.

A Sharp Dressed Man by AveleraHermann’s latest book needs an author photo. However, when he’s given a makeover and a suit that actually fits for the photo shoot, his appearance is so transformed that Newt mistakes him for his (much hotter) older brother, Dietrich.Hermann decides to play along.

It Was Only A Kiss, How Did It End Up Like This by AnonymousPuzzler“Hermann, come on, I don’t have to be up for another hour, go shut off your stupid alarm so I can go back to sl—”Finally, Hermann had grumbled incoherently, shoved himself up on one elbow, kissed Newt full on the mouth, and rolled out of bed.Suffice to say, Newt was very, very much awake after that.

and i couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted by LvslieHe still smells like Newt; bears traces of his recent nearness. Clothes sleep-wrinkled from the proximity, from the way Newt’s ankle has during the night hooked around the calf of Hermann’s good leg and dragged his whole body seamlessly closer. Cheek half-flushed from the face unconsciously nuzzled his into the side of Hermann’s neck—evidence of his presence, fast asleep, as Hermann lay still and fretful for hours an end, staring at the ceiling and feeling sick with wanting.[An early 20th century AU inspired loosely by Maurice and Age of Innocence.]

Meet Me There Across The Water, And We’ll Start An Endless Storm by CancerConstellationHermann, an honorably discharged veteran has retired to continue working as a Keeper at a Lighthouse. It is perfectly solitary, and with little in the way for incidents. Newton is the sailor that washes up on the seashore after a summer storm.[Late 19th century Lighthouse Keeper AU–or the one where Hermann was an aspiring artist whose dreams got a bit derailed, and Newt is the sailor that needs to learn to take his time with things.]

It Was Love At Second Sight by rednightsHermann receives the first letter when he is eighteen years old.or: Kaiju don't attack the Earth, but Hermann and Newt still write letters, botch their first meeting, and fall in love, not necessarily in that order.

the truth about me (and the truth about you) by danimagusNewton suffers from a bout of memory loss and is told Hermann is his fiancé. Hermann plays along, to his endless shame.

Transducer by hal_incandenza (or: 1970s espionage AU)“I need you to hide something for me.”“Oh, excellent. Of course, Newton, please allow me to jeopardize my career. And yours as well. My pleasure. Do go on.”“Yeesh, relax,” said Newton. “It’s a personal thing, not a work thing.”“As if there is any division between the two,” Hermann snapped.If only you knew, Newt thought.

First a Darling, Then a Marvel by isozymeNewt runs a simulation given three constraints:1: Newt wants to clone a kaiju2: Hermann does not want Newt to clone a kaiju3: Newt is going to clone a kaiju anyway

Can I Be Your Memory by agrajagHermann suffers from amnesia after a bump to the head and is suddenly very nice to Newt. Newt is way too gay to handle this. And what will happen when Hermann’s memories return?

The Geiszler & Gottlieb Post-Saving-the-World Lecture Tour (series) by zach_stone

if you would stay In the wake of the world not ending, while certain heroes are invited to a parade of talk shows and press tours, the two-man remains of the PPDC’s K-Science division are scheduled for a series of guest lectures in a good selection of the world’s major universities.Newt and Hermann travel to from Hong Kong to Boston, and Newt tries to come to terms with a world that’s not ending and his feelings for Hermann that are becoming harder to hide.

find shelter somewhere in me“You ready for this?” Newt mutters as they approach the podium.Hermann shoots him the smallest smile, touching Newt’s wrist. “With you, always.”The Geiszler and Gottlieb Lecture Tour continues, and Newt realizes Hermann may not be coping with the aftermath of the war as well as he pretends to be.

Darling by BeeLoveIn which Newton rides Hermann for all he’s worth. Or at least tries to.

Our Breath Will Still / A Short Distance Ahead by irisbleuficThis story is a study in monster-hunting and risk-taking, professional and otherwise.

Problems with Local Denim Topology (accnt orphaned tragically)This is how, when the chaos of Newt’s life finally settles down into something approximating normal (one apartment, one nine-to-five job, one handsome husband, and no kaiju), he finds himself struggling to pull on an old pair of skinny jeans.

Sea Swept by cypress_treeA high seas fantasy AU in which Hermann is a ship’s navigator and Newton is found washed up among flotsam.

Surrounded by berlynn_wohl (all of this author’s newt/hermann PWP is like. fucking top tier.)Newt is involved in a teleporter accident, with sexy results. That’s it, that’s the fic.

Circumstances by glassfrogIt was Newt who suggested the handcuffs.

newmann drabbles & fics by skeleton_twinsa collection of short newmann fics

#maria's newmann blogging #ask #Anonymous

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hms-chill · 5 years ago

Note

The RWRB gang involved in a sort of shooting or something at a really huge international event. Worst-Injured Character (Henry) Half-Conscious And Begging To Know If The Others (Alex most especially) Are Okay.

“The Olympics, Six Years Later”

"I can't do it. I need a big, strong athlete to carry me; my legs are too sore," Alex complains. "There were so many steps yesterday. I'm going to die."

They're only halfway to their seats for the 2022 olympics, but after their trip to the Great Wall the day before, they're all starting to feel it. Bea, June, and Pez had opted to take the skylift to the top, leaving them well rested to enjoy the wall itself (which was comprised almost entirely of more stairs), but Nora had dared the boys to take the stairs with her and raced them to the top. It was a great idea in the moment, but between that and the number of steps on the wall itself, they're all regretting it the next day.

"Race you to the seats," Nora says, and Alex perks up almost immediately, pushing past the others to elbow her out of the way and get what could only be described as a "running" start if his bedraggled slouching upward counts as running. Nora's not far behind. They're both out ahead of the others, muscles straining, panting and laughing and elbowing each other, when it happens.

The next day, someone will say it was just bad construction. The stadium went up too quickly, and some things didn't set just right or get checked well enough. Someone else will say it was sabotage; sugar mixed into the concrete to weaken it as an act of resistance. Someone else will say a bomb went off, and people will talk about whether it was too early or too late or right on time. But in the moment, all Henry knows is that one second, he's trying not to be too obvious about watching Alex's ass, and the next, the steps below him are falling away. He barely has time to scream.

Alex and Nora feel the steps shake. There's a crash, the sounds of collapse. Someone screams. They turn around a second too late to see it happen. Henry's gone. Pez is gone. June and Bea are on the other side of a hole in the stairs, one that goes straight down to the basement of the stadium, where it ends in a pile of rubble. Bea has her hands over her mouth, a picture of horror, and Alex's brain starts to short circuit as he tries to process Henry's absence. Beside him, nora is running forward. He's not sure if she's going to try to jump over the hole or look into it, but he grabs her arm to hold her back just in case. She leans over the edge, then shouts.

"He's... he's... Alex, help me." She's reaching into the hole, and when Alex comes level with her, he can see Pez, clinging to a broken piece of metal with wide eyes. Alex lies down beside her, and between the two of them, they get Pez out. Nora wraps him in a hug immediately, but Alex is back to the edge of the hole, looking frantically. Henry has to be there somewhere, too. He has to be holding on. He has to be safe.

"Henry! Henry, where are you?" He doesn't realize he's crying until there's a hand on his shoulder, and Bea's pulling him up and into a hug. "Henry... he's... he's down there somewhere. He's not... He's still here. I know it. I... He's not... I'd know if he was."

Bea just holds him close, and they're both sobbing. There are other arms around them, and June starts trying to guide them up and away from the hole. Alex only lets her move him down the stairs to the ground floor, where he and Bea both settle as close to the rubble as they can get and refuse to go anywhere else. Alex knows that if he moves, if he leaves, he won't be there when they find Henry. He has to stay, because when they pull Henry out of the rubble, Alex has to be there to love him right away. So he stays put, and so does Bea. There are people moving around them, crews starting to move rubble and officials shouting in what feels like every language on the planet. Alex barely processes any of it. He refuses to process anything beyond Bea's hand in his and the pile of rubble in front of him, because anything else, anything more than this terror, will destroy him.

Henry knows, logically, that he must have blacked out as he fell. Because even if he is surrounded by nothing but darkness, death shouldn't hurt this much. He tries to shift, tries to move, but he can't. Something's pressing down on his legs, something else on his chest. He's lucky to have his head and an arm relatively free. Instead, he does what he can to take stock of his situation, asking himself what's happened, what hurts, and what he can control. His mind won't focus. At least the answer to what hurts is simple: everything. Every part of his body is in pain, and when he tries to cough the grime out of his throat, the pain that shoots through his ribs makes everything flash white. In the pitch blackness, it's almost a relief.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes. It's enough to make him laugh a bit, though that hurts as much as anything else. Even at the best of times, he doesn't answer his phone for anyone but--

Alex.

Alex had been higher up. He'd had farther to fall. It's a miracle Henry survived, but Alex...

No. He isn't dead. If he was dead, Henry would know. But if he's not dead, that means he's down here somewhere, running out of air and probably hurt worse than Henry is. He's hurt worse and probably buried deeper, and Henry feels his heart start pounding at that. It's going to hurt like hell, but he takes a deep breath anyway and shouts, "Alex! Alex!"

He barely manages those two before he's reduced to coughing up the dust he's inhaled, trying to hear any sort of response over it. Deafening silence. In theory, he knows yelling won't really change anything. He should protect his throat, make sure not to make enough noise to unbalance anything, and wait for someone to find him. He'll have enough air for a while, and he doesn't seem to be bleeding, so he should be okay. Unless he's bleeding internally. Or unless someone digging shifts something the wrong way. Or unless this was an attack of some sort and the area isn't safe enough for relief teams at all.

He's thought about dying, of course. He's probably thought about dying more than the average twenty-something, given the number of 'Someone-Might-Try-To-Kill-You' lectures he grew up with and the raging dumpster fire that was the years after his dad's death. But he hasn’t thought about it all that much recently. With Alex and their friends, with things as perfect as they are, death seems miles away. It’s not something Henry’s wished for since they got together, and not something he’s given much thought to recently.

He thinks about it now, and he's surprised to find himself a little scared. He pushes it down, and quotes float to the front of his mind, snatches of other people’s words, glimpses into their views of death so he won’t have to imagine his own.

“... the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying...”

“... dulce et decorum est pro patria mori”

“... look for me under your boot-soles...”

Henry tries to cling to those, tries to piece together enough bits of their thoughts and words into an idea of his own. But faced with the possibility, with the idea of actually leaving behind Alex and the others, of abandoning the future they could have together, he can't seem to think of anything else.

When another thought surfaces, though, it courses through him with a pain worse than anything he's felt yet. It's a reminder that Alex fell, too. He had to have. If Alex fell, or if any of their friends did, that means his own death isn't the one Henry needs to worry about. If he loses Alex, if he loses Pez or Bea or any member of their group, he's going to fall apart. New words replace the old, words of grief indescribable, the life he could find beyond this mess.

"...while I had him the rest seemed good enough/ But he ain’t here...”

“... he is lost among the stars...”

“... I cannot now accustom myself to your absence...”

And that's when the tears start to gather in his eyes, when the sobs begin to tear out of him, shooting pain through his throat and ribs that only amplifies them. He's scared. Looking at how badly everything could go wrong is terrifying, and even imagining how much he could have already lost is the worst thing he's ever felt. If he's lost them, or if he's about to make them feel the pain he's terrified of, he's not sure things would ever be alright again.

His tears have slowed, and he's starting to get dizzy when a shower of pebbles hits his forehead. He realized he's probably bleeding from somewhere around the time his eyelids started to droop closed, but he forces them to open. There's nothing to see but the blackness he's been surrounded by since he fell, but something's happening. The pebbles have to have meant something. When he was a kid, getting briefed on what to do in case of a fire, they taught him to tap the floor so that rescuers could find him. He's not sure what it will do in this case, but he has to try. His hand feels like lead as he lifts it, but he manages to tap three times. Three little taps, just like he’d do on Alex’s knee or the back of his hand somewhere public. Three little taps, like the ones he’s gotten used to getting in return, when Alex needs his attention or when he’s given an interviewer an answer that Alex particularly appreciates.

Three little taps: ‘I love you’.

He tries to force himself to do it again, but his hand is too heavy. It’s getting hard to think now, and the sliver of light that's opened above him feels like the other end of the universe. Still, he fights to keep his eyes on it. Because somewhere, somewhere in that light, is Alex. He knows it.

When they pull Henry free of the rubble, coughing, he’s the same color as the sheets on the gurney. His throat is rubbed so raw from the gritty air that breathing hurts, meaning his voice is shot, but he manages to rasp, “Alex? The... the others... is Alex okay?”

The paramedic smiles slightly, but moves aside without answering. Henry’s fighting to keep his eyes open, to look for Alex as best he can. He has to find him. Then there’s a hand grabbing at Henry’s, and he can hear Alex’s voice, wrapping around him like a blanket as his eyes drift closed. He doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the condition of his throat and his lungs, but he taps Alex’s hand three times. The gurney starts to roll as he hears Alex sniffle, but the hand never leaves his. With all of the chaos around them, the plethora of languages and the shouting of the paramedics, the only thing Henry can focus on is Alex’s hand in his. He knows he’s probably lost consciousness at least once, but for every moment he’s even marginally awake, Alex is holding his hand. And more times than he can count, Alex is giving it three little taps. When he manages to give them back, he's rewarded with a kiss to the back of his hand, and he could swear he hears Alex sniffle a bit more.

He wakes up properly in a bed with clean sheets, Alex’s hand still holding his despite the fact that Alex is deeply asleep in the chair next to him. It hurts to breathe, hurts to think, hurts to move, but he turns as far as he can toward Alex anyway, trying to see if he’s hurt.

He’s dirty, covered in the same layer of grime Henry is. But he’s not obviously bandaged, and he’s not in a hospital bed. He seems to be okay. Across the room, June, Pez, and Nora are piled nearly on top of each other on a couch, some sort of arrangement that only they could ever make comfortable. Bea is in an armchair next to them, sleeping as well. Henry smiles and taps Alex's hand three times, and Alex squeezes back. Henry lets his eyes close again. Alex is okay, their friends are okay, and that means that everything else will be okay, too.

On AO3

Notes:

The 2022 olympics are in Beijing! And I've been there, so I can write about it a bit more easily, which is fun given how important the olympics are to these boys! And from what I remember, there are just... so many god damn stairs to get up to the top of the Great Wall, y'all. Then once you're up, there's just... more stairs. It's all stairs (until you take the slide down, which is awesome).-

This is a bit odd, but if anyone’s good at reading cover letters, please let me know! I’m applying for some things I really want, and I’m scared. On a similar note, if you want to, you can buy me a Ko-fi here! Thanks y’all!

Sources for quotes (all of which are gay):-Todd, Dead Poet's Society-"Dulce et Decorum Est", Wilfred Owen-"Song of Myself", Walt Whitman-"The Lost Pardner", Badger Clark-"Last Meeting", Seigfried Sassoon-A letter from Lafayette to Washington, 1799

#rwrb fic #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #bea fox mountchristen windsor #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #pez okonjo #FirstPrince #hurt/comfort #mostly hurt not gonna lie #angst with a happy ending #i don't kill my gays i swear

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chocafe · 5 years ago

Text

the rhythms of summer — lee eunsang

summary: eunsang isn’t like the other spirits. one touch of the human skin will cause him to obliterate into the summer haze, and that’s enough to frighten you and your love for him. genre: romance, angst, fantasy, friends to lovers word count: 4.3k a/n: inspired by the animation movie, hotarubi no mori e.

Eunsang is everything the world admires. He is the bittersweet aroma of coffee beans. He is the warmth that summer possess. He is the hope that everyone longs for. He is simply everything. However, he is not human.

“Eunsang, are you out there?” You call out into the empty forest, gliding your bare hands against the rusty tree trunks.

“I’m here!” Eunsang says with excitement as he magically pops up in front of your eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You scared the living out of me!” No matter how many times you meet Eunsang, you will never get used to him popping in and out whenever he pleases to. Sometimes, you wished that he could walk normal like others, but then you remembered, he isn’t normal ─ Eunsang isn’t even a proper human being. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that little quirk of yours.”

His lips stretch into a smile and you’re sure it was the prettiest thing you have ever seen. “That’s what happens when you’re friends with a spirit like me.”

“I’m friends with a spirit that I can only see in the summer.” You notice how Eunsang’s smile quickly disappears by your comment. “B-But you’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for! Seeing you in the summer is the highlight of my year!” In between each word, your voice trembles as you try your best to bring up Eunsang’s confidence and liveliness.

“You really think so?”

“I know for sure.” You take your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead. It sure is hot in the summer. “It’s wonderful that this forest is right next to my grandparents house, but is hours away from my actual house in the city. Maybe when I get older, I can get a job over in this area, just so I can see you whenever I want to.”

“I would really like that.”

Actually, Eunsang would love that.

Your and Eunsang’s happiness was measured in the amount of laughters you two shared and the amount of days spent in the hazy summer season.

There’s something about Eunsang that soothes your heart. You don’t know how he does it and what it is about him. What you do know is that he’s purely the epitome of comfort.

Ever since you shared how you’ve been encountering endless numbers of sleepless nights, Eunsang begins to sing you a serene lullaby, causing you to fall asleep within the open meadow field. Despite always being eager to see you, Eunsang doesn’t mind the fact that you’re sleeping when you should be spending time with him. He cares for your overall well-being and if sleep is what seems the best for you, then he’ll choose that over swimming laps in the river.

Within the time being, Eunsang manages to braid the stems of flowers together to form a handmade floral bracelet. “All done!” He shouts in excitement, only to immediately close his mouth right after as he remembers that you’re sleeping peacefully beside him. Rather than continuing his conversation with himself, he chooses to smile instead because he’s extremely excited to show you the bracelet he had made for you.

He takes a quick moment to look at you and ends up staring at your face for a whole minute. Were humans always this pretty when they were sleeping? Were you always this pretty when you were sleeping? His heart skips a beat and he wants to remember this image of you forever.

Oh, how Eunsang wishes he had the ability to see you every single season, every day, every minute and every second; But the two of you were only limited to seeing one another in the summer.

Eunsang wants to watch you underneath the spring cherry blossom trees. He wants to jump on dried leaves and drink seasonal pumpkin spice lattes with you. He wants to play out in the angelic snow and perhaps, kiss you underneath the mistletoe.

“What are you thinking?” Eunsang questions as he lightly slaps himself in the face, trying his best to stop all of the upcoming thoughts of passionately kissing you. Nevertheless, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop imagining as his cheeks flush into a peachy shade of embarrassment.

Once more, he gazes right back at you and then at your lips.

“Y/N is sleeping, so they won’t know.” Eunsang thinks as he hovers his face above yours.

The urge to kiss you takes over Eunsang’s body as there was only a five centimeter gap in between your lips and his very own lips. He was so close, yet so far.

He pulls himself back to his original sitting position. “I can’t.” There was a certain heaviness in his heart, but a marked lightness in his soft tone of voice.

Eunsang can’t kiss you.

He can’t even lay a single finger on you.

One touch of the human skin and Eunsang will obliterate into the dying hot sun.

It’s not funny, but Eunsang awkwardly laughs and it rings through his bones like an unwanted phone call. “Why would you even try, you idiot.” He takes a big deep breath before sighing.

As he proceeds to drown himself in daydreams, he soon hears the sounds of you whimpering in your sleep. Sweat is dripping down your skin, your breathing pattern becomes peculiar, and Eunsang is terrified at the sight. You must be having a nightmare.

“Y/N.” Eunsang constantly calls out your name. “Y/N, wake up!”

No matter how loud he screams out, it wouldn’t be loud enough for you to wake up. In a rush, Eunsang speedily grabs a piece of wood and hits your open forehead. It was his last resort and the only thing he could potentially think of in a nervous state like his.

Your dream cuts to an end without receiving a proper ending roll credit and you wake up in pain. You were dazed, confused, head throbbing and the first thing you wanted to do was to yell at Eunsang in pure furiousness. “What is your problem? Why would you hit me with a stick while I’m sleeping?”

“Y-You” His voice began to shake since he wasn’t used to you yelling at him. “You were shaking in your sleep. It seemed like you were having a nightmare, so I thought it would be better to wake you up instead of letting you suffer.”

“You could’ve just called out my name instead, you know.”

“I did. I tried, multiple times.”

You couldn’t help, but to compare Eunsang to your mother. On the mornings where you’re too tired to wake up, your mother would barge into your room and profusely shake your arm until you were wide awake. Eunsang isn’t like your mother because your mother is human and Eunsang is a spirit who could not touch a single soul.

He’s different and you’re sorry.

It takes you a moment to realize that he couldn’t physically touch you to wake you up. “I’m sorry for getting angry when you were merely trying to help me.” The tone of your voice suddenly changes as you become apologetic in the snap of a finger.

“Hey, it’s okay!” Eunsang isn’t the type to hold grudges. “Do you remember what you were dreaming of?”

“Yeah, I do.” You scratch the back of your neck due to feeling uncomfortable because of the so-called dream that felt way too real.

“What was it? Was it a nightmare? Actually, you don’t need to tell me about it if it’s a little traumatizing.”

Moments before, you had dreamt of Eunsang disappearing into the void. It’s a constant nightmare of yours that remains to shake you to the core.

You don’t have the heart to genuinely tell Eunsang your biggest fear, so you tell him a white lie. “It was the worst nightmare. I dreamt that I was back at school and there was suddenly a test I didn’t study for!”

Eunsang tilts his head and raises an eyebrow that says really? Either you’re lying or you seriously hate school, and Eunsang chooses to believe the second option.

“Oh! Since you’re up─” He grabs a hold of the flower bracelet he made while you were asleep. “Look at what I made for you!”

Naturally, you brought your wrist to Eunsang as he began to place the bracelet on you, avoiding any skin contact with a bright smile on his face.

In a generation like yours, many people seem to adore materialistic gifts instead of gifts that truly come from the heart. You, on the other hand, would take the beautiful mother nature gifts Eunsang surprises you with than anything else in the world.

“It’s really pretty!” You comment.

You’re prettier, Eunsang thinks to himself, but giggles as a vocal response.

“I love these type of gifts from you, I really do.” You raise your wrist into the sky, so you can look at the beautiful bracelet and the bouncy white clouds, together, as one. “This just reminded me how you always used to pick out four leaf clovers for me in the past. We could be running down the hill, but once you see a clover, you would stop and place it behind my ear.” The nostalgic memories you shared with him began to play in your head like a movie.

“Ah, I forgot!” Eunsang swiftly stands up on his two feet. “Throughout the seasons, I’ve been collecting all of the four leaf clovers I’ve been coming across, precisely so I can give them to you once you visit!”

He runs off into the forest, telling you that it won’t take him too long to retrieve them all. You don’t mind waiting in the meadow because you’re too busy admiring the bracelet and the four leaf clover you had stuck behind your clear phone case.

Not even a minute passes by and you hear rustling noises behind the green bushes. “Eunsang, you’re back!” You say, only to turn around and lay eyes upon a slender cat-eye like man. “Wooseok?”

His facial expression was serious and the atmosphere he gave off was mysterious, but once you stated his name, he broke character like a shattered glass. “Wait, you know who I am?”

“Of course! Eunsang loves talking about you all and he mentioned a few times that you were very good looking, so I can only guess that you’re Wooseok out of everyone.” Rather than being afraid that you were meeting a spirit, you were more than happy to know that you were having a conversation with a friend of Eunsang’s.

“He isn’t wrong, I am pretty good looking.” Wooseok brushes his delicate fingers through his hair, but abruptly stops himself as he recollects as to why he originally wants to speak to you. “Listen, I need to speak to you, but it’s pretty hard to find you without Eunsang by your side.”

Wooseok makes his way towards you and grabs you by the chin, something full spirits were capable of doing. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on Eunsang. He isn’t like the rest of us and if you’re the reason he disappears then─”

Before Wooseok could continue on, you cut him off by slowly pulling his hand off of you. “I know everything, so don’t worry about it.”

Indeed. You knew everything about Eunsang and maybe that’s why the two of you were the greatest friends you both could ever wish for.

Eunsang wasn’t like the other spirits that roamed around the forest. He isn’t a monster, but he sure isn’t human anymore. Eunsang was merely a human child who was abandoned in the forest. He was destined to die, but every forest spirit took sympathy for him and used all of their magic to keep him alive. A body like Eunsang’s is weak as he solely depends on magic to keep himself alive. With one touch of the human skin, he will vanish as he’s just as fragile as the winter snow.

“So, you know everything?” Wooseok’s voice lowers down due to his surprise for your knowledge.

“Yes, I know everything. Despite you threatening me, I know that you and the others are all to kind to even harm a human being like me.” Wooseok was ethereally pretty, but his personality said otherwise. “I know you all think of him as a little brother, and to me, he’s my friend. We all don’t want to lose him, so trust me, I’m going to make sure Eunsang won’t be gone anytime soon.”

Wooseok opens his mouth and then immediately shuts it close as he hears the distant sounds of Eunsang running through the forest. At a time like this, he’s incapable of saying anything more because if Eunsang found out that Wooseok tried to scare you, then Eunsang would finally blow up and might even ignore Wooseok for the rest of eternity. Wooseok decides to vanish into the air because the thought of Eunsang hating him sends shivers down his spine.

Eunsang comes running back, out of breath, with a basket filled with tiny four leaf clovers. The sight of Eunsang is enough for your lips to creep into a smile and he does the very same right back at you.

Four leaf clovers are lucky, unlike Eunsang.

However, Eunsang is lucky enough to have met you and you’re just as lucky enough to have met him too.

“Hey, Y/N.” Eunsang clears his throat and stares off into the radius, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Hold onto this stick.”

“The same stick you hit me with earlier?” You look up at Eunsang and notice that he was flushed with a scarlet shade appearing all throughout his face.

Oh? Is this embarrassment? Nervousness? Shyness? Every single emotion combined?

Not only did you notice the fact that Eunsang was blushing, but you acknowledge that this is his way of asking to hold your hand. Without saying anything more, you grab onto the other end of the stick as the two of you walked besides one another.

Even though you were happy, you still felt a sharp pain inside of your heart. This had reminded you that you and Eunsang will never be able to be together. You will never get to be held in his embrace. You will never get to see him outside of summer. You will never get to properly experience love with Eunsang.

The river is lukewarm, but that doesn’t stop you and Eunsang from dipping your toes in the water. The sun is being eaten up by the sky and once more, you’re reminded that summer and your time with Eunsang is coming to an end.

“Have you ever been in love?” You randomly blurt out, kicking your feet as small specks of water splash onto your face.

“Excuse me?” Eunsang chokes up because he was never ready for a question like this. “Why do you want to know?”

“Is it my fault that I want to know whether or not my friend has fallen in love before? Come on, tell me about it!”

He hesitates before responding back. “I can’t tell you.”

Eunsang can’t tell you the true answer to your question because he fell in love with you and is still in love.

“Don’t want to tell me? Then I’ll tell you the story of how I fell in love.” It might take Eunsang years to gather up the courage to tell you about his love life, but it only took you a mere second for you to want to tell him about yours.

“Huh? You’ve been in love before? You’ve never mentioned it before.” Eunsang’s eyes widens as he’s almost frozen with shock, modestly hurt that you’ve fallen in love with someone who surely isn’t him.

“I met him in the summer heat five years ago. At first, I thought of it as a small crush since I was so young and naive at that time, but as I grew older, my feelings became even stronger than before.” You looked off into the sunset with a slight grin. “I realized that I’ve been in love since the very start and I still am in love with this person.”

He laughs softly, but thinks somewhere inside of him must be the sound of his heart breaking. “That person sure is lucky to be loved by you.”

“Yup, you sure are lucky.”

Eunsang quickly turns his head towards you and it takes him a second to process what you had just said. He’s in disbelief, and yet, he doesn’t need you to say it twice because he heard you clearly the first time.

“I’m sorry.” Are the only words that roll off his tongue.

What are you saying? You’re absolutely in love with Y/N, Eunsang thinks, but somehow doesn’t say it.

“It’s okay.” From the very start, you were prepared for Eunsang to reject you. The two of you were never meant to be with each other to begin with. “You don’t need to love me back.”

But I do love you back, He doesn’t say anything.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He repeats himself. “I’m sorry that I can’t properly love you like other humans.”

What does he mean?

You’re still not sure how he feels about you.

Nevertheless, the two of you sit there in silence, feet in the water, staring at the sunset like it’s the rising tide.

The countryside differs so much from the city life you’re used to. Unlike the city, the countryside is dark with not much people in sight once the moon emerges into the night sky.

Maybe it was Eunsang’s urge to protect you or maybe it was his need to spend as much time as he possibly could with you; But after every time the two of you hang out, Eunsang would walk with you all the way to the end of the forest, so you could walk back to your grandparent’s house in peace. Ever since you met Eunsang, you’re not an ounce afraid of the lightless forest. However, you still allow Eunsang to walk with you, each and every time, because you love having him by your side.

It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

The only sounds you hear are the footsteps of yours and Eunsangs, and the four leaf clovers shifting around in the basket you were holding.

As you continued to walk through the forest, there was a sudden tug at the bottom of your shirt. You turn around, only to find Eunsang holding on while he stared directly at the ground. “Eunsang, what’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry. It brings me so much pain.” He grips even tighter onto your shirt, wishing he was holding you instead.

“What are you talking about?”

“I want to experience being in love so badly, but I only want to if I’m with you.”

He wants to be real ─ For you.

Eunsang takes one step closer and that’s enough for you to snag your shirt away and take five steps away from him. “What is wrong with you? Remember, we need to keep a distance between us.” Your heart is rapidly beating, not because you’re in love, but because you’re frightened at the fact that Eunsang is putting his life at the line. “Don’t be irrational!”

“That’s exactly it.” He brings his head up and there’s tears flooding the whites of his eyes. “I’m sick and tired of this distance between us. Don’t you know how badly I want to be with you?”

You could see how desperate Eunsang was and you’ve never seen him in a state like this before. Seeing tears fall down from his eyes caused you to freeze up and become speechless at the moment.

“Y/N, I love you.”

Eunsang doesn’t need to think twice.

He is certain that he is in love with you.

There are times where Eunsang would long for you in the autumn, winter and spring. There are times where he wants to spend time with you and do nothing, but run into a field and pick out every flower that he deems as beautiful as you. There are times where you tell him stories of your city life, because you know how bored he could get in this lonely forest. There are times where Eunsang wishes it was only you and him on Earth. Each of these moments were when Eunsang strongly feels his love for you, and he loves realizing it every time. Falling in love with you makes him feel more like a human than he will ever be.

“You know, I love you too.” You remind Eunsang once more and it falls out of your mouth as easy as reciting the alphabet.

“Then, may I kiss you?” He takes a few steps closer to you, breaking the forbidden gap.

“You shouldn’t.” You say with quivering lips.

“But I want to.”

The basket of four leaf clovers crash onto the ground.

In a matter of seconds, Eunsang presses his soft lips against yours and finally has the power to wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly in his embrace. He doesn’t want this kiss to end and he never wants to stop holding you, but everything has an expiration date, including him.

You were completely unprepared for the kiss, but that didn’t stop you from passionately kissing him back. You would think that after all the summers you’ve spent with Eunsang ─ watching him talk, laugh, smile ─ that you would know all there is about him and his lips. With him being a spirit, you’ve never imagined his lips being this warm pressed against your very own.

The kiss ends as soon as the two of you feel your tears combine into one.

“Are you out of your mind?” You scream out loud, but not loud enough as your tears were powerful enough to fill you up.

“Are you out of your mind? For falling in love with a spirit like me?” Eunsang places his hand onto the side of your face, bringing both of your foreheads together, so they can touch and lean against one another. “How silly must I be for also loving you?”

Is this what it feels like to experience love? Eunsang is glad he can finally let you live through this, but despite being glad, he begins to think how much he’s going to miss your warmth.

Eunsang detects that it’s too difficult for you to speak with tears spilling down your cheeks. He takes a long, deep breath, as his fingers and voice trembles all at once. “I’ve always loved being with you. Every single time, I felt like I was alive. Y/N, you make me feel alive and I want to thank you so much for that.”

Parts of Eunsang begins to fade away into the air and within a minute, he’ll be nothing but a figment of imagination. As your arms were wrapped around Eunsang’s waist, you can feel him become lighter and you were never prepared to say your final goodbyes to Eunsang. He was supposed to be your summer delight, not your nightmare in disguise.

“Y/N, please tell me you love me once more.”

“I love you.” You beam your eyes towards Eunsang, never wanting to forget his face. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!”

“I love you just as much.” Eunsang manages to muster up his famous soft smile, amidst the tears that were continuously streaming down his cheeks.

It would be amazing if time finally stopped, but time doesn’t care for anyone.

“Once I’m gone, falling in love with me will feel like a dream to you.” He leaves a soft peck on your forehead and continues to wipe the tears off of your face, despite being in the same frightful state as you. “I hope that this dream has been a happy pleasant one.”

Everything hurts and you’ve never knew love could bring this much pain to the two of you.

“Eunsang, don’t say that.” In return, you kiss his lips once more. “I will never forget you and I want you to know that I was more than happy in every moment that we shared together. You’re the one who makes me happy. I─” Your tears choke you up. “I just wish we had more time. Why would you do this?”

“Because I love you.” His voice is still comforting and it will forever play in your head. “I’m so delighted to hear that you were happy in every moment we shared, even if our time together was limited to one season of the year.”

Before you could say your last goodbye to Eunsang, you feel the cold breeze hit you and you were holding nothing, but the air.

“Eunsang?” You quickly turn your body around, trying to detect your lost boy in the hidden forest. “Eunsang!”

Eunsang isn’t hiding.

He’s long gone now.

Your weak legs give up and you fall onto the ground, burying your face into the dirt. “Why does it feel like I’m suffocating?”

Spilled four leaf clovers are scattered out everywhere.

You heavily cry out loud as tears drip down from your chin. There was no Eunsang to bring you back to comfort and he wasn’t coming back anytime soon, not even at all. “Eunsang, please come back!”

There’s something mystical in your pocket and you’re unsure as to what it is. You could feel it’s light stem and when you pull it out, you lay eyes upon a four leaf clover. It was as if it was Eunsang’s last wish to give you the last four leaf clover he had picked out for you that following day.

Summer will never be the same without Eunsang.

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