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punkpandapatrixk · 1 year ago

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☕️Soul Story with Your Divine Counterpart ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

A long, long, long time ago, in the harmonic realms of Pure Bliss, there was nothing but Dharma. Bored as whoa from a lack of strife, our Souls began to yearn for Drama. In the theatre of the Universe, Game Masters joined forces to create the most hyper-realistic Game of Polarity—of opposites and contrasts. We were told, we would understand Unity better if we could master Duality.

Divine Pairs were invited for the launch of the Game as the unbreakable bond between them was deemed the most powerful, enough to withstand the chaotic nature of Duality and Polarity. In time, we all jumped into the Game expecting all kinds of immersive experiences of playing knaves and heroes, destroyers and builders, enemies and lovers, et cetera, et cetera.

In the beginning, we played amongst many of our own Kind but eventually met those from other harmonics who had later been invited to the Game, too. In a world of illusions… we were dreaming all kinds of events and adventures with our cosmic avatars, and in time, all kinds of storylines intertwined to weave an even bigger cosmic narrative.

We all played for so long we were beginning to forget our true form. Many of us could no longer recognise each other’s Divine Counterparts. A multitude of shape-shifting had caused a distortion in reconnecting to our Original Memory. The game world had now become a second Reality.

🎧Alone Again, Wonderful World by Plastic Tree

🎧I Love You by Off Course

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There is a super special behind-the-story for this PAC on Patreon. If you’re already subscribed, don’t forget to check the full post ^o^v

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Pile 1 – Finally, Happily Ever After with You♥︎

MOVIE: Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

your Home World – Page of Swords

I have a feeling your Home World (at least one of them that is significant in your current stage of soul evolution) was a relatively new world. You’ve come from a civilisation that prized intellectual pursuits more than anything. Your Kind loved to study; you enjoyed improving your environment and society. Researching plants—understanding them and making chemicals and potions with them—was a pastime of your people. You were working to understand your Planet.

Your Home World had many large, expansive libraries of all the things your people had come to learn. Many people loved to visit the library and read and just have fun studying. You were such big-brained folks. There was no school like we know on Earth. There were academies and laboratories for children to partake in research and new inventions. The weather on your Home World was always pleasantly sunny and you could see buildings that are similar to hot houses on Earth. There were gardens and open fields, of course. Vegs and herbs were your main interest and food was aplenty.

People had roles in society but nobody had any semblance of a concept of what we call ‘jobs’ on Earth. People didn’t work for money. People lived with the joy of knowing that they were alive and that the Planet had provided for them. Your people loved the Planet so much—you appreciated and cherished this new world you were beginning to understand. But… this also meant you didn’t have any concept of conflict, power struggle, and war… You didn’t have a military—never crossed your mind the necessity for such a thing.

And so, when warmongering space invaders attacked your Home World you couldn’t protect yourself.

a promise before birth – 4 of Swords Rx

From the moment the space invaders arrived, it was clear that there was no way your civilisation could stand a chance against the enemy’s warships. The imbalance of military power was too overbearing. You didn’t even have an army, not even a fighter. All you could do was try your best to evacuate your people and escape the Planet. Homes and gardens were destroyed and families were torn apart. Friends and lovers calling out names of lost loved ones. Sisters and mothers shielding children and escaping. Brothers and fathers staying behind to buy time.

This horror was etched in your Soul Memory for a long time. Your heartbreak became a default setting when you chose to be born on Earth. As if, you’d forgotten how it feels like to have peace. But you craved it from the deepest unseen well of your subconscious, and at one point in your soul evolution, you prayed to Infinite Intelligence. You prayed that you could be saved from the looping horror of being trapped in the same scenario of sorrows. You had come to resent the Game.

‘Please, salvage my heart from betrayals, isolation and loneliness.’ Infinite Intelligence heard your plea and whispered: ‘If you could remember your Divine Counterpart, they will remember you, too, and you will be calling out for one another. If you could remember your true form, you will remember what your Divine Counterpart feels (looks) like. And all will be fine in all of the worlds again when you meet.’ And you fell back into slumber to find yourself awake on Earth.

finding each other – 5 of Swords Rx

Earth is a world that is just as war-torn as your Home World, if not a lot worse out here. Being born into a world so reminiscent of all your traumas, navigating Life here has not been easy. As if Infinite Intelligence had played a cruel joke on you. But the truth is, Earth is the perfect place for you right now because by being here you resolve your traumas a lot faster than if you had been born somewhere comparatively better. You are in the midst of recovering from bad dreams of lives lost in wars.

Did it cross your mind that your Divine Counterpart has also been doing the same? You’re not alone. You’re working really hard to purify yourself from all of these bad dreams, bad memories, all so you wouldn’t mistakenly destroy each other when you meet. Infinite Intelligence had arranged for you to face your traumas head on so you wouldn’t have to show your ugly healing to each other. That scenario isn’t for you. Isn’t it so graceful?

Although it’s hard to face your challenges feeling like you’re all alone in the wild wide world, trust me, it’s better to have those quarrels and separations with people who mean little. I can hear a soft voice from the aether saying: ‘You’re… the only reason I’m still breathing… We will meet. When I’m good, I can make everything in your world good!’ So confident. So loving, indeed.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💜

story behind your Union – Gold Physician (Hippocrates)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Ambition

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Pile 2 – True Calm That Comes Only After the Storms

MOVIE: Grave of the Fireflies & My Neighbor Totoro (both 1988)

your Home World – 8 of Cups

Quite similar to Pile 1, you still carry deep sadness and heavy regrets in your heart that are, truthfully, only remnants of memories from your Home World. Your Home World was quite advanced technologically. Your civilisation depended on the Masculine energy—Yang energy. Societies were run on varying degrees of strictness but the modus operandi was clear: the masculine form and structural ways of running things were favoured.

Obviously, not everybody was happy about that though for a long time, peace was maintained. However, influences from visitors and ambassadors from other civilisations (by comparison they were freer; more fluid) eventually seeped into the consciousness of the main populace, and in time, underground rebellion groups were formed. These alliances were made amongst multiple races of beings that felt they weren’t accepted (or respected enough) by the main races.

Friction began to tear apart the establishment and government officials tried their utmost to crack down dissents. Many went to prison or got killed in the numerous conflicts that were becoming a plague in your Home World. In a last attempt to preserve the codes of freedom, many elders told their young warriors to flee and find refuge in other Worlds that were, hopefully, more balanced in their operation of Yin and Yang.

a promise before birth – 3 of Cups

You left your Home World carrying a promise to come back and make everything better after you’ve learnt enough about the ways of other Worlds. Tears were inevitable but the determination in your heart was solid. You were a new legion of Ambassadors from your own Home World. You didn’t really want to think of yourselves as refugees, after all, many of your Soul Family members were still living alright in your Home World though things were just… a little too unpleasantly unjust.

When you departed your Home World, you created a mirror image of yourself to accompany you across the Multiverse—a divinely ordained Counterpart. This was possible by the grace of the Infinite Intelligence, of course. In the beginning, you went to the same places and learnt similar things. Over time, your understanding of each other’s capabilities became clearer and, with confidence, you decided you would travel separately from now on.

You had this unbreakable bond and an immense capacity for telepathy, so you weren’t the slightest bit worried about losing contact with your Counterpart. You believed that it would be just as easy to call upon each other and reunite as you deemed fit. Alas, your travels brought you to Earth, finally, and things over here were just… slightly over-the-top chaotic for even you to handle. The level of evil on this new World was… NEXT LEVEL.

finding each other – 7 of Pentacles Rx

Crash landing on Earth! Coming here felt like a major accident. Your whole world upside down. The reason being something related to betrayal trauma. To find a World that’s even more polarised than your own; to see a World that operates on the highest level of toxic masculinity; to be in a World this corrupted by its own leaders; needless to say the whole being born thing was traumatising.

The shocks of being born on Earth made it difficult to reconnect with the essence of who you are on a Soul level. Thus you forgot how to contact your Divine Counterpart. You’ve felt like you have so little guidance living Life on Earth. But deep in your psyche, you’ve always known you’re here for something greater than the mundane. You know you don’t belong to this Earth. You’re here on a mission. You want to build something with someone… Someone dear, but you can’t remember.

Can you believe that you and your Divine Counterpart are meant to inspire the dissolution of anger? Yes, this World so deep in the clutches of aggression. You are special Souls who have been ordained to meet on Earth when the time is right to help inspire peace—after all, it is what you seek and Infinite Intelligence is arranging every couple’s rendezvous in the most magnificently mysterious ways. I think your finding each other is just gonna happen naturally by virtue of matching vibrations. So~ Keep focusing on your Life’s mission and just like that~ BOOM! There they are.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💚

story behind your Union – Green Historian (Herodotus)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Inspiration

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Pile 3 – ‘Kiss You Better; I’m Your Only Other’

MOVIE: Princess Mononoke (1997)

your Home World – 6 of Wands

The Home World that’s currently significant in your soul evolution was a world of glory and magnificence. Your Home World looked nothing like what we know of abundance and celebration on Earth; it was such a rich and happy World. It emanated so much pink, gold, blue, turquoise and soft violet. Back in your Home World, people didn’t even look… humanoid, per se. Your Home World was… fluid. It was a different type of consciousness. Life itself was fluid. Existence was simply flowing with the sweet symphony of the Cosmos.

Your Home World operated on the basis of Love. People were very kind and jolly most of the time. Your people didn’t really understand this whole concept of non-Love. Suffering and terror… what the heck are those? Manipulation and lies… for what? Taking advantage of someone else, murder and theft… but… why? All of those concepts were so foreign yet so fascinating to your people.

When you heard that Earth needed some high-vibe volunteers to ‘raise her vibrations’, actually, not that many people from your Home World were interested LMAO The risks of being separated and forgetting Love sounded not worth a good dime. Your World was so peaceful, loving and fulfilling. But the call from Earth felt a little too urgent! So… Some curious and courageous Souls finally decided to take a test drive. Just a preview. It couldn’t be that bad, you thought.

a promise before birth – King of Wands

With gleeful optimism, you promised people back Home that you would be back with grand stories! Off you and your Soul Mates went to a big academy (on another World) to study and prepare for a reincarnation on Earth. Yup, unlike the other Piles in which they couldn’t help but arrive on Earth, you chose to come here out of genuine curiosity. You were expecting dramatic fun!

You and your Divine Counterpart were giggling with anticipation as you prepared yourselves to dive into the Earth Matrix. You and your Divine Counterpart are powerful Souls; you were confident this Game would be between easy to medium difficulty, although you had been told Earth Game’s level of easy is the equivalent of extra hard anywhere else! Your optimism deafened you to that piece of information🤷🏻‍♀️

You kissed your Divine Counterpart and said, ‘I love you. Let’s find each other quickly in this Game. Let’s have fun and then go back to tell everyone what we’ve seen! It’ll be great!’ Your Divine Counterpart nodded in agreement and waved to all members of your Soul Family and they did the same. With great determination to serve your collective consciousness back Home, you dove into the illusions of Life on Earth🌎

finding each other – 5 of Pentacles

Arriving here, from the moment you were born as a child the world was already chaos. The reality of Earth was too shocking to bear alone. Who would’ve thought the density of Earth would cause you this much pain? Physically, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, everythingally. You thought, ‘Damn, my training at the academy told me nothing, NOTHING, of this!’ Literally you didn’t expect Earth’s negative polarisation would be THIS fucked up.

For you’ve come from a world of nothing but Love, Life on Earth was soul-shattering to say the least. Many moments you’ve thought it impossible to go back to the frequencies of Love and you became dejected as fuck. But you’ve only forgotten that YOU are Love. You carry the memories of all your collective consciousness that supports your coming here. As long as you tap into this Love deep within yourself, so shall you be reconnected to the essence of who you are on a profound Soul level. There, as well, you will feel the heartbeat of your Divine Counterpart.

For you’ve come from Love, it’s as if your Divine Counterpart had left a piece of their Heart in yours so you never feel alone. You are both a complete whole carrying a piece of each other’s essence everywhere you go—a perfect personification of the Yin-Yang symbolism. You are literally inseparable and have never truly been separated. A piece of your Heart in theirs is always reminding them of their ultimate goal in this incarnation: to find each other, weave stories together, and infuse a piece of yourselves into the collective conscious of Mankind as a token of gratitude—for all the experiences.

TURNING THE PAGES🔻💛

story behind your Union – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

the rest of your days – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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kyokosasagawa · 5 months ago

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Fran in Wonderland - A analysis post, of sorts. Maybe more like rambling.

Future Arc --- "Who the hell is this?" Introduced as the latest Varia member to replace Mammon, Fran is a completely new face. No one knows who he is or what his deal is. Not even Byakuran expected him, and it was one of the few moments that indicated that Byakuran had a weakness in his ability to see different worlds..

Fran of the Varia Arc is a complex figure. I cannot analyze him chronologically---no, he leaves crumbs of himself in extras. Interviews. Character songs.

But lets start off with his key trait:

Curiousity.

Fran is an immensely curious young adult. That is his fundamental trait as a character that spreads through both Rainbow and Varia arc.

What he does, he mainly does to satisfy his curiosity regarding powerful people.

In the manga canon itself, he lets Rasiel go away free just to find out if he would be able to beat Xanxus.

Speaking of Xanxus, in an interview he joins the Varia to find out why Xanxus can command respect. In a character drama, he tricks Hibari with his illusions and is impressed by Tsuna being able to see past them.

In his character song, he has Wonderland motifs. But the interesting part about it----he prolongs the torture of the victim in the song, curious to see if they could beat him. if given the chance.

Fran is a curious man that could, in fact, be interpreted as being….well, bored. He wants to find something interesting, so he follows his curiosity.

But he's also fickle, and distasteful, which brings me to the next point.

Lack of Respect / Respect towards Power

Future Fran does not respect other people easily. But to those who he does, they get power beyond all belief. Mukuro is freed with his power, a power that can fight against what we now know is a gang of ex-Arcobaleno.

He insults the rest of the Varia, while never saying anything particularly….mean, about the Xanxus he's curious about. In fact, Xanxus didn't have a single bad thing to say about Fran in the Rainbow arc, while the rest of them remembered nothing but insults.

Essentially, Fran only respects powerful people in the Varia arc. Perhaps its because he himself is powerful, so he doesn't feel a need to care about those who aren't. After all, Lussuria even admitted that Fran could escape from the Varia in the aforementioned interview---but he chooses not to, curious about Xanxus. He thus gives Xanxus his power in battle.

He respects Mukuro, calling him his Master. He helps the man escape.

I think, fundamentally, Future Fran doesn't care for weak people.

In a future where the world is ending, where only three people can trick the Vindice---clearly, he's better than the rest, especially if it was so effortless to trick them like its hinted by him not being even the slightest bit exhausted afterwards.

The thing is though, its hinted that he was always this way.

Rainbow Arc -- Again, who the fuck is this?

Fran. Fran, Fran, Fran.

He's introduced as a child playing in the forest and waterfalls of Jura, France without any supervision. A place that takes the Varia and Kokuyo some effort to get to. Even the Varia admits that he's no ordinary child.

Later, its shown that he's still able to trick the Vindice with his illusions.

So we know he's always been like this. He has, since he was young, always been more powerful than others.

What a wonderful way to get a bloated head like in the Future Arc.

But, in the Rainbow Arc, he's proven he's not the strongest person around.

He's scared of the Shinigami, he's intimidated by Chrome yelling at him.

Sure, he still has to fight in the final battle, but that could just be because the glove didn't fit Chrome. Chrome still had to instruct him.

So how does he grow up, in the Rainbow Arc?

Healing of a Childhood?

Rather happily, actually.

In the future arc, Fran smiles rarely. You get most of his smiles in artwork outside of the manga and anime, or if he's smiling, its for snarky reasons. It's one of the reasons why for the longest time, we had "depressed!Fran" fanfiction everywhere.

No, he chose the Kokuyo to grow up with, and he seems to enjoy their company a lot.

Surprisingly, its Ken who gets the most attention from him and where Fran's character development seems to shine the most.

He goes from considering Ken an idiot, a wild animal in the future arc---to considering him a big brother figure. He even changes honorifics.

He also seems to enjoy the company of Verde, despite bullying him all the time.

And don't forget about Chrome, who he instantly develops a crush on after getting yelled at. Or M.M, who carries him around and protects him.

Family!

The Kokuyo is depicted as a family, unlike the Future Arc.

In the Future Arc, Fran floats around place to place looking for someone powerful. He hangs out in the Varia, hangs out in the Kokuyo, tricks Hibari and tries to trick Tsuna, tries to give that nameless victim in the Special Illusion song a chance to survive and see if they're stronger….

But in the Rainbow Arc, Fran is…he's happy. He sticks with the Kokuyo from day one, and doesn't leave their side, and he becomes an actual kid.

Fran is healing in the Rainbow Arc, and I love that for him.

Conclusion Fran of the Future Arc is fundamentally a different person from Fran of the Rainbow Arc.

Future Fran is curious and bored. He's strong, and he knows he's strong. He's equivalent to a Saitama-like figure in KHR.

But Fran of the Rainbow Arc is still learning how to be a kid.

He's strong, yes, but the Kokuyo is giving him the chance to be better. To become strong, yet loved.

To have Fran without the Kokuyo is to have a unhappy Fran, who calls Ken "-san", who looks at the Varia with distaste and hate.

I don't know what he becomes in the future of the Rainbow arc, but I'm sure its going to be happier.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #fran

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aishabellasbigblogofeverything · 5 months ago

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My post about hating the Barbie movie and how it actually spat in the face of feminism and all that the franchise stands for is done and dusted, I'm afraid, but that being said there are still some points I left out of it that I would like to address, and I will do so here:

The movie portraying women as hopeless endless victims who have no hopes of succeeding or getting what they want out of life is bad enough, but there's a brief blink-and-you'll-miss it scene where Barbie is taking Gloria and Sasha back to Barbieland, and as they're on the spaceship, she says to them that women control everything and have all social and political power, which is fine...but THEN she goes "basically everything men do in your world, women do in ours" and that...that line just makes me so appalled and angry I could SPIT. Like you're really spelling out that you think women in the real world have no power or control in any aspect of society? I understand that it's supposed to be "commentary"(it's not good commentary tho) and that the real world IS a patriarchy, but we HAVE women in power in our world too! We HAVE female Supreme Court Justices! We HAVE women in high office! We HAVE female mayors and CEOs! We HAVE women in positions of power and leadership, period! And yet Barbie creates this illusion that women in our world such as Sasha and Gloria would have NO knowledge of or point of reference for women in power who do any important shit at all; it's completely fucking absurd. But then again, this movie was written and directed by a white feminist. A white feminist, who, like all white feminists, has a complete miserable victimhood/defeatist complex. So of course she projects it onto her female characters(even female characters of color, who are ofc SUPPOSED to be more sad and let-down than SHE is!), like the sad, pathetic fuck she is. And y'all wonder why I hate persecution flips so much. We need to shove that bullshit trope six feet under. If you want to tell a story about the patriarchy, then FUCK, WRITE ABOUT THE ACTUAL GODDAMN PATRIARCHY!!! Don't just do this nonsense "uwu what if men were the oppressed ones and women were the privileged--" no. Stop. Cut it the fuck out. This is getting ridiculous.

This part is probably incidental but fuck that, I'm still gonna knock it. Sasha and Gloria never actually get to experience the matriarchal utopia, and I just find that so depressing. Despite the bleak and frankly miserable lives that they lead, they never get to experience the escapist freedom of living in a society in which they are in charge, where womanhood isn't looked down upon and is in fact honored, where they have power and aren't in danger of being stalked, followed, or killed by men just for walking down the street. They leave their patriarchal world, hoping to see a world that is better, and instead enter a world that is just as bad and equally as patriarchal as the one they tried to escape from. It's truly depressing, especially for Gloria who specifically wanted to get away from her anxieties with real life and just have fun with her daughter for a bit. Instead she has to be confronted with ANOTHER patriarchy, watch the childhood doll she loved and played with have a panic attack and give up on life just like she did, and then give her infamous, cliche, and paint by numbers "being a woman is suffering" corny as hell speech. Before reinventing the matriarchy and getting her power back only by leaning in to patriarchal stereotypes about women's bodies and sexualities. And then leaving back for her regular patriarchy world without getting to experience any of it. It's almost like the movie was literally saying that women will never be able to free themselves from patriarchy and that a better world than this one does not exist. Patriarchy is insurmountable and all-prevailing, says this movie. It's truly tragic.

And honestly, with regards to that shitty ass clusterfuck of a speech, isn't it like, so totes ironic, that part of Gloria's speech is her complaining that women have to apologize for men's bad behavior...only for the "happy" ending of the movie to involve BARBIE HAVING TO APOLOGIZE FOR KEN'S BAD BEHAVIOR?!?!!??!?! Like no one fact-checked that shit and went "wait, something ain't right"? Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?!?! I hate that scene with every fiber of my being and realizing this makes me hate it even more now. Just, ugh.

Tldr: Fuck this movie, but then again, I've said that shit like...several times before. lol.

#barbie #barbie 2023 #anti barbie movie

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staruie · 1 year ago

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The afterlife section is probably not an illusion because Gojo should have no way of knowing things like Nanami seeing Haibara before dying.

honestly ur probably right.. i wrote that other post without thinking much n didnt expect anyone to actually be reading it LOL

if it was not an illusion, i think it may connect to sukuna's CE/CT which iirc targets/slices through cursed energy itself (CE being created by cycles of suffering). he also got to gojo by slicing through the world itself, and disturbed the fabric of existence

this afterlife thing reminds me of what happened before with jogo whose situation was uncannily similar to gojo:

the third image is the form that dagon died in, but jogo is talking to his pre-evolution form...a reflection of the past, similar to gojo speaking to everyone as their teenage selves

as well, jogo seems to be dying a "death without regrets". he talks to sukuna in his dying breath, who says this:

but like, is that really sukuna??? in the very next panel, he appears to have a 180 in attitude and personality. the real sukuna doesnt seem impressed at all; and now with the context of gojo's battle, i dont believe jogo was even remotely close to gaining sukuna's approval.

i think its jogo's manifestation of his own desires, presented in sukuna's form. he was a character focused around strength and he died gaining the acknowledgement of the strongest.

again this is similar to gojo, who consistently desires companionship and an escape from the loneliness of being the strongest. he dies surrounded by everyone he loved and lost, at the happiest time of his life where he was't the sole bearer of being "the strongest". (i personally still feel like this is a rather static end for gojo's character...maybe ill write another post about that cuz this chapter is making me go actually insane lol)

theres also some previous panels that may relate to the state of gojo's afterlife scenes

i really really wonder what the implications of all this is, honestly i got into jjk for satosugu lol so im probably missing half of the story here. i never cared much or paid attention to sukuna, but this chapter makes me want to reread and get a better gist of his character too. especially the theme of love and connections that seem quite prevalent in sukuna vs gojo

sorry for rambling anon this got off topic really quick 💀

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 236 #jjk meta #jjk analysis #im real bad at organising my thoughts #even remotely #but hopefully this makes sense #gojo satoru #text post

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shmowder · 4 months ago

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I am grateful for the work you wrote, it made my heart flutter, especially the part with Maria! It's very tragicomic, I couldn't help but smile when I read it. I have some ideas about the other characters you suggested. For example, Lara. She gives me the impression that she creates the most convincing illusion of domestic comfort. You can't even call her homewrecker, because she is, in fact, home. It seems to me that the relationship with her is not charged with sexual energy, but rather compensates for the longing for family warmth. The lack of love in its purest, platonic manifestation. She'll be sentimental enough to give her poor partner something small to remind her of, like a thimble.

Vlad Jr. my beloved. At first it seemed to me that he would not fit into such an affair because of his pragmatic approach to things, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. It seems to me that taking someone's spouse away is also an act of self-affirmation for him, an opportunity to declare himself. He does not like to get his hands dirty, so he will probably resort to threats through intermediaries if his courtship is not eloquent enough. I wonder what his father's reaction will be on that melodrama?..

And, well, Daniil is clearly head over heels. He will shower his beloved with promises to take them to the Capital. A little bit of an old-fashioned romantic escape scenario won’t hurt, is it? Although I think it’s mostly a manipulation strategy to bond with person even closer.

By the way, have you ever consider to try match-ups with Pathologic characters? I think it will be an interesting activity <3

Yours faithfully, 🧡 anon.

I like your take on these characters anon, I'm glad you enjoyed my previous post.

Lara's moral compass tells her that as long as you're unhappy with your current marriage, then the relationship you two share is completely justified.

Ever since her father passed away, she tends to overextend her abilities and spread herself thin, attempting to help everyone everywhere at once. Lara sees a corpse in each person she interacts with, mourning the living akin to the dead.

The world is too big, life is too unpredictable, and she desperately needs to feel in control. Establishing a shelter, giving away material goods, trying really hard to make a difference, to leave this world a better place than she found it, even if it cost her blood and tears.

Maybe that's why this affair didn't feel anything like close to the notion. It started with Lara approaching you instead of the other way around, mentioning how unhappy you seem these days, how she heard the rumours about your loveless marriage.

Offering you a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen, a place to stay the night if living under the same roof with your cold spouse is too draining. Don't worry, no one will get the wrong idea, how could they ever when Lara is known to host any soul looking for a temporary home until they can get back on their own two feet.

At least, that's how it started. She'd tell herself that you just happen to bring out her overprotective nature, that it's simply nothing more than her wanting to be a good neighbour.

And you find yourself enjoying her fussing, even her nagging is akin to a melody. To have someone worry so much over you that they get frustrated and angry because you didn't wear a jacket out in this cold weather? It was a new world in comparison to your apathetic spouse.

Gradually, you've come to think of her as home.

Her presence with you over the breakfast table just felt right, grocery trips spent together as you carry the bags, and she asks for your opinion on which flavour of jam to get this week.

Mundane tasks like hanging the laundry to dry or doing the dishes feel less taxing now, especially with Lara nearby with you in the room.

The domestic married life you were promised but robbed out of, the safety and comfort... It's the sweetest dream you've ever lived.

One which you bitterly wake up from each time night falls and both of you go to your own separate bedrooms. How wrong this felt to be alone at this vulnerable hour of the night, reminiscing about the way her hand held your own as she wished you a good night.

How her nail pressed against the wedding ring you're still wearing.

The tightness around her polite smile.

Lara only realises her true desires when you eventually have to return back to your house, to leave this home you've built with her because people might talk otherwise. She rationalises it as her only wanting your happiness. Her priority is to get you out of this cage, this soul-draining marriage and set you free... even if you don't choose her, as much as that idea stings.

People love and trust Lara; she is renowned for her generosity and soft heart. If there was one person in this whole town who could organically minimise the damages to one's reputation caused by a divorce, it would be her.

...and if she had to exaggerate some unsavoury stories about your spouse in order to make you seem in a much more dire situation, then so be it. Their reputation will tank most of the damage, yours will come out intact in the end.

And maybe... you'd like to take refuge in her house again while this whole situation simmers down? She will protect you, she promises.

You'll always have a home with her, much like she finally found her own home with you. And maybe after a week or two, instead of letting go of your hands after wishing you a goodnight, she tightens her hold and leads you to her bedroom.

Nothing of note happens that night. The two of you finish your nightly routine, like always, in the same room instead of two separate ones this time.

You can't shake the giddy feeling from your chest, and Lara can't stop glancing at you with her big eyes every other minute as if she's reassuring herself you're really here.

The two of you get under the covers, she lets you hog most of the blanket.

The candle is snuffed out.

As the morning rolls around, you wake up with her face pressed against your chest. Your arms wrapped around her, her legs intertwined with yours.

And it feels just right.

Vlad Jr. is paying someone to kill your spouse.

Not in a yandere way, it's nothing personal he reassures you. He's just built like this.

How did you learn about his plan? Because he just told it to you, directly.

The two of you were simply having lunch when he nonchalantly informed you about this, in-between sandwich bites.

Listen, think about it. The best solution is usually the easiest, divorce and reputation management is hard. Getting your spouse out of the picture would be the most beneficial arrangement for both of you.

Well, yes. It is sad that they have to go out this way and have their life cut short. But like he said, it's nothing personal, really.

If anything it's a pretty straightforward deal and he'll make sure to tell the hired butcher to make it a quick clean kill so they won't even have to suffer for long.

The Saburovs won't even get on your case, people die all the time in this town and... you and your spouse are simply not important enough to cause a stir over, no offence. You know he loves you, right? But facts are facts, and this is actually rather convenient for him that you're an average person. It's why he can take you on these lunch dates around town freely and no one bats an eye.

What's that? You don't want them to die?

Ah, well that is quite the pickle huh? And he's not just talking about the one in his sandwich.

There is always option B, leaving the town together. He never planned to take over the family business, and he heard the Capital is lovely at this time of year.

The two of you can start over there, get properly married and well... live life.

But this also means you'll have to abandon all of your friends and family here and never ever return. It is literally social suicide to just up and go sneak into a train in the middle of the night and leave everything behind.

See how inconvenient that would be? I mean where are you two supposed to spend your holidays then if he can't bring you home to celebrate with father and sister?

Which is why the first option is clearly the easier one, so what do you say? Let him kill your spouse? pretty please?

If you feel sad about it afterwards, don't worry. He will spare no amount of money to cheer you up.

His father is fully supportive, surprisingly. Love is love and all of that.

The ever noble Daniil Dankovsky would directly go to your spouse to settle this matter over with.

His courtship with you has been rather public, a scandalous affair even as he spoke plainly about his clear affection for you to any person who asked. He abhors lying and doesn't see a point in pretending that what the two of you share is anything but love.

You care for him, and he cares for you too.

Daniil's convictions and reputation are a double-edged sword. They could either shield you from the social repercussions of infidelity or spell your doom and dig your grave for you.

Your friends are aware, your family is aware, and even your own spouse is aware. The one thing preventing your reputation from spiralling down the drain, is the fact Daniil is a gentleman and took it upon himself to knock at your family's door and explain himself and his intentions to them.

It's very hard to deny his sincere feelings. By all definitions, he is still a respectable and educated man. The Bachelor is walking on thin ice.

Daniil paints himself as the clearly superior choice. His methods are a little unorthodox but surprisingly effective as the most conservative of the townfolks find his crusade to earn the right to properly marry you fair and square rather than start a sleezy affair, a little admirable.

Who cares about losing face in this nowhere town when you'll gain double if not triple the prestige in the Capital just by being his spouse?

What really matters is your family, he understands. And he'll make sure they love him, he'll go above and beyond to show that he is the best son in law they could dream of.

Daniil would be one of the people who would hold themselves back from crossing intimacy boundaries while you're still married. A simple kiss on the back of your hand is the most touch you'll ever feel from him.

He just doesn't like it, the label of an affair. As if it is his fault that someone much less qualified just happened to arrive sooner. If anything, he has always been an advocate for divorce despite it still being a controversial topic.

He genuinely believes that if he proves himself and his noble intentions, then people would eventually understand that if he asks for your hand directly and courts you with honour and dignity, then things must go his way.

Because at the end, you two love each other and he knows that. This isn't some desperate bachelor chasing after shadows, this is a man with a solid conviction and a clear goal, a man on a mission to win over his beloved and earn the right to call himself your husband.

I think between all the characters you could cheat with, Georgiy Kain is simply too golden of a choice to pass on.

The judge, you're cheating on your spouse with the man who officiated your wedding himself.

Also, a whole judge, an epitome of ethics, a founding father of law in this town, an advocate for justice.

He'd be content with keeping your affair more on the hush hush side, so would Victor.

Any character with something major to lose or who knows their relationship with you doesn't fit the label of socially acceptable, would keep your relationship a secret, and think it's the best if you stay married.

Some characters like Aglaya Lilich might do it for your own safety, so you won't become a target for the powers that be as long as you have a cover relationship.

Or General Block, who knows there is a big possibility he won't make it out alive from the war. He'd rather you never become a widower, let him be a fleeting love instead.

Anyway back to the judge, it would be extra delicious if the affair started on the wedding day itself.

You're dolled up in your wedding attire, be it a fluffy white dress or an elegant sleek suit, a traditional ceremony outift or a casual and breezy wear.

The church is empty, you've arrived her much earlier than everyone. You can't help the feeling of emptiness inside you, gnawing at you that this is the wrong direction to head towards, that this couldn't be what your life amounts to.

But you swallow it down, the acidic mouthful of resentment and regret.

And you see the judge in there, much earlier than the rest. He always liked things to be done as soon as possible, it's only thanks to him that the town legal system is running at full efficiency at any hour of the day.

You look at him and force a smile, a polite greeting. People respect this man beyond believe, some marvel and aw at the Kains as if they were gods walking amongst men.

Yet you can't bring yourself to care at this moment or give more than a tight smile.

You look so pretty, so lovely... it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

So why...

You're crying before you realise it, soft tears streaming down your cheeks. Salty and bitter, mournful of a future you've lost, of a doomed life awaiting you outside.

And he simply... gets it. You don't have to speak, you don't have to explain your situation. He knows, of course he does.

He doesn't hush you, he doesn't rush you. He treats you with the dignity of a capable adult even in your most low moments, with the respect of an equal to him rather some lost fawn awaiting rescue.

How shocking it is to receive this treatment after your family and friends pressured you into this marriage because they saw no worth in you otherwise, no hope for you or your future. They didn't care for your brilliant mind or your fragile heart, they thought being someone's spouse was all that you could amount for.

And there he is, the judge himself, appeasing you as someome of equal importance and intelligence to him.

A man of many talents, a grand philosopher and an inventor truly seeing you for the unpolished potential that you are. The hidden gem amongst the rubble, witness the soul beating and screaming caged by your bones to remain content with this average unfulfiling life.

Someone who believes in you, that you can overcome this on your own. You don't need his help, you never needed anyone's pity or grace.

But his affection? Oh, that he can offer you. To let him be the one to steal away your kiss on your wedding day before your spouse ever could.

He's more than content with just one, a simple short kiss that made him feel things he thought were long gone with his youth.

But you pull him into a second then a third, a hunger awakening inside you. A lust for genuine companionship and understanding rather than sexual desires, a lust to taste the lips of someone who shares your mind, to never to have to belittle yourself or water yourself down.

To be understood, a longing to be seen for the brilliant complex soul that you are.

Rather than someone's spouse.

How the wedding day goes without a hitch, you've regained your resolve tenfolds.

How you receive a congratulations letter for your beautiful wedding the next day, an invitation to the Kains' residence, addressed only to your name.

I loved writing this, I hoped you enjoyed reading it!

I'm curious about match ups ngl, but I'm absolutely clueless about how they work. I've seen other blogs do it before but I've never participated or paid much attention?

I'd love to hear more if you don't mind explaining it, pathologic match ups do sound fun.

#♧x reader #♧cheating #♧Daniil #♧younger vlad #♧lara #♧Georgiy #pathologic x reader #♧suggestive #♧🧡 anon

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bromcommie · 7 months ago

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Hiiii, I’m here with some ask game things!

🦴🌸 pretty please!

Hiii, tysm for the ask! <3 🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? Oh god, this is such a fun and insanely difficult question. I truly apologize in advance for how long this is about to get because I'm blanking and also can't pick a single thing to save my life. I feel like I'm still in the beginning of trying to figure style out so inspirations keep changing, but right off the bat Richard Siken was a big one that's recently made a comeback. Pretty revelatory to little me at 15 and still very much an influence many, many years later, especially when it comes to poetry. There's just something to how he weaves his wording from tender to violent + that dream-like, stream of consciousness structure, striking visuals about relatively mundane things and a consistent thread of hope and wonder despite the darkness throughout that I find just lovely. Kurt Vonnegut is also a big nostalgic classic from those formative years. Still very much love the tongue-in-cheek humor and the roundabout storytelling of an eccentric old uncle used to address very real and often grim topics in a very human, grounded way. Just about anything that deals with non-linear time, dreams and memory, too. Everything by Tarkovsky, even though I feel like an absolute asshole bringing his genius up while talking about my writing hobby, let alone my silly little fics, but listen, I was a film major. What can you do. Forever enamored with that man's work.

(Dialing it back a little: I'm also rewatching Russian Doll which does memories and trauma reconciliation and the surreal really well while also juggling humor. It's still somewhat painful, but at least it's also very fresh and funny and very full of life. Would love to be able to write a script with that combo one day.)

In terms of some of the general stuff that extends to fanfic-inspiring as well, I'll always have a soft spot for Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay for many, many reasons. It's beautiful, it's sharp, it's creative! It's a (very) sprawling love letter to the Golden Age of comics and the very ongoingly relevant origins of Captain America! To New York in the 30s-50s! To youth and ideas and intersecting identities and illusions of escape and found family! To coming of age and hope and grief in the face of a rapidly complicating world! To meticulous, meticulous historical research! Michael Chabon, I'm in your goddamn walls. Throw in some basic staples of the WWII mini-series genre, + Babylon Berlin and Chernobyl and a bunch of MKUltra paranoia thrillers for fun times with WS-centered darker undertones and political elements re: the '30s and Cold War era, and there you have it. So that is... way too many things off the top of my head and none of them are necessarily all that reflected in my writing yet, however! They do inspire me. 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

yes I do! They’re dumbasses in two completely different ways (can you tell?) and the absolute bane of my existence. And I would die for them, I really would.

wish I had some better photos but I cleared out my phone recently :(

#god. anyway #sorry this took a hot second!#i was working all day. and thanks again<3 #asks #dharmasharks #ask game

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mmpi-3 · 10 months ago

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now that im in my small beautiful world i am going to explain my mechanisms of kinning ichimatsu and being a predetermined jester. how theyre interconnected. its a long post so ill put it under a readmore

So, to start, lets talk about multi-dimensions, universes, instances, or multiple timelines. I kind of use them interchangeably, they mean similar things. Space, time, and dimesnionality is almost on an x y z axis. . . Its like points on a 3d graph that can move about. This I am still learning about, as I have to do more research into the connection of time and space with universes.

There is a universe for every possibility, but they've already all been played out or predetermined to act in that way? Every timeline is its own universe or dimension. Every action in said universe or dimension is already played out, think kind of like simulations (though I hate that word...) So in technicality there are all different possibilities, but your choice of the possibility has already been ran through, and is predetermined in this instance. Everyone has a predetermined fate, decisions, and role by the runners of these, and its usually an illusion of choice. Do you see the predetermined fate now?

Now lets talk about "jesters" and "leaders." These are essentially code words I have come up with for the main roles I have seen in these universes.

There are jesters, for example me, who are put on these planets or places in these universes and timelines specifically for entertainment of the gods. Our fates are predetermined to live a life of suffering. We may have moments of happiness or peace, but these are temporary meant to make the suffering worse, and thus, more entertaining. This is why its really annoying to hear people say "It gets better." or "It will be okay in the end." I am not the only jester out there, and I believe I may have some specialty being able to sniff out jesters and leaders.

Jesters have a predetermined fate of suffering. It was coded the moment our instance was created. And being predetermined to live a life of suffering. Recently I've come to the breakthrough of trying to prolong the happy moments as long as possible through coping and mental mechanisms, so that the gods get less entertainment out of me. Its all predetermined to happen this way so its like an illusion of choice but whatever. So there is a positive.

What is a leader? A leader is someone who aids the gods, intentionally and aware or not, in the hurting or herding of jesters. These people I do not have as much information on as its just been observations of leaders and what they do. They are the abusers, the doctors, the people in higher places of power institutionally, etc. Or even just people who do not try to play into the system but are better off.

Sometimes I say jesterleader. This is because I cannot determine someones role, they are special and have switched or transversed roles, or are very close in aiding the gods in their quest of harming jesters.

THIS IS NOT TO SAY LEADERS CANNOT HAVE HAD HARM OR ROUGH WATERS IN THEIR LIFE BEFORE. IN FACT, MANY LEADERS HAVE BEEN HURT BY OTHERS IN THEIR LIFE. THe difference is jesters have a specific, divinely intervention, repeated history of harm of which they cannot escape in their life.

All of this I have been slowly learning since my thought of the world ending in 2020 by the gods (specifically lain, of the wired,) something I was mistaken in. The world is not ending any time soon I've learned very well. Not when there's more jesters to laugh at.

Something I'm wondering is if some jesters like me are protected by the gods from death until old age for our especially funny 'jesterquest.'

Now you're wondering, what does this all have to do with kinning Ichimatsu? What the fuck kind of deranged rant am I reading? Mine, bitch.

I can't effect other peoples universes, its all played out already in its own way. But there are multiple "mes" out there that have played out in the past/present/future. I say past/present/future as the 'simulated universes' are being played out in every time, and in every space. Hence why X Y Z axis that the points move about on.

The multiple "mes" of these other timelines are all Ichimatsu. There is no way around this, as me being him is directly tied to my jesterquest through the instances. I have been him in the past, I have been/will be him in the present, and I am him now. This is why I say I am him in EVERY TIMELINE. You bitches dont even kin like I do. So if you want the best idea of what its like to be me, watch Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse. It freaked me out a bit of how spot on it was with the multi timeline self with predetermined fate.

If you made it this far, congrats, thank you for reading, and here's me basically typing this shit out.

#the explanation #Save

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linagram · 2 years ago

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more t1 music info!

hi, it's me talking about the random linagram lore again! also help i have so many things to do and so little time to write kei's vd

so. you're probably wondering what i mean by "more music info". what i mean is that i will finally reveal everyone's undercover lyrics in this post and also t1 song titles and t1 song previews (you know, like in the trailers)!

i should mention that these lyrics don't rhyme, so they probably don't sound like actual song lyrics, but i kinda wanted to write them like that on purpose, so that they could feel like.. uh, english subtitles in a way? :'D

Undercover Lyrics:

Akio: "UNDER, you're the only person I can trust, if you want to prove your loyalty to me, you should just bow down"

Aimi: "UNDER, I have everything I want, but why do I want to cry so much? If you're not my friend, you don't deserve to even breathe"

Shun: "UNDER, I want to forget this boring real world, it's nothing but disappointment. I prefer the fake world I've created in my head"

Naomi: "UNDER, oh, I made you cry? Why don't you tell your parents about it? Ah, you can't do it, 'cause you're dead"

Kei: "UNDER, I gave you what you wanted, so why do you say I'm evil? There was no "safe word", you signed up for this yourself"

Eiko: "UNDER, it's your fault for lying to me, an "invisible wall" won't protect you, I'm about to enter your world"

Asahi: "UNDER, you can buy the whole world for me, but it still won't be enough. Maybe I just want to see "her" again"

Yurika: "UNDER, I want to go back to those days, sorry, Dad and Mom, I don't think I'm ready to grow up"

Riku: "UNDER, no matter how much I bleed, you still refuse to forgive me. Just go and listen to my song again"

Reina: "UNDER, please, just end this already, before I die from being swallowed by my own guilt"

T1 Song Titles:

Akio: Staying At The Top

Aimi: Portrait of Friendship

Shun: Error Screen

Naomi: Empty Desk

Kei: Hot Pink Illusion

Eiko: Lost in Perfection

Asahi: Never Satisfied

Yurika: Heart-shaped Candy

Riku: Jump Together

Reina: No Reason

T1 Song Previews:

Akio: "Don't even think of stealing my crown, who do you think you are? I'm the one who rules this place, you're just a stranger! Stop making them love you because of that bright smile of yours, stop being their sun, they're too used to darkness"

Aimi: "Let's make this world as colorful and bright as our friendship, let's forget about our problems and worries. I'll make you laugh, I'll make you smile, just promise that you won't leave me alone. Let's hold hands, let's sing, let's dance, I hope we'll stay friends forever"

Shun: "There's nothing wrong with me still missing you, right? There's nothing wrong with me still wanting to be with you, right? So why don't you leave him, you deserve better, even though I'm probably worse. What do you mean, I can't even remember your face? You just had too many of them"

Naomi: "No, I can't leave yet, there's too much to do, I'm still here because of you, you won't let me run away. Stop looking at me like that, you don't deserve my forgiveness, just like I don't deserve theirs. I'm drowning in my guilt and swimming like a fish in the sea at the same time"

Kei: "Let's do it already, I can't wait any longer. One? Two? Sure, I'll go with five! Just tell me what you want, I'm okay with anything, don't be shy, I've done worse things. Let me take my rose-colored glasses on, so that I can pretend that this moment is better than it actually is"

Eiko: "I can't wait to finally meet you, I know that you're just as perfect as I imagine you to be. I want to know what songs you dance to, I want to know what movies make you cry, I want to know every single little thing about you. I want to escape to your world, but it's too early for that, but you're already becoming a part of me"

Asahi: "Just give it to me, even if I don't remember what I've asked for. My room has everything other kids want, but it's still not enough for me, it's too empty for me. Please forgive me, I've never been spoiled like this before, so let me enjoy it, let me ask more and more from you"

Yurika: "I can do it, I know I can! You gave me courage, you gave me strength, so let me repay you! You just laugh and say "Your heart is enough", can't you act a bit more serious this time? But my life is so sweet now thanks to you, so let me add my heart full of fear and hope to your beautiful collection"

Riku: "You can forget about everything tonight, there's no need to cry, no need to worry, I'll be here to make it right. Listen to my voice, listen to my song, I know you're starting to feel better thanks to me. Actually, can you do me a favor? I want you to give me a smile and jump as high as you can"

Reina: "I do it because I like it, no motive, no excuse, no backstory. I'm just having fun with my friends, what's wrong with that? Yeah, you're right, a lot of things. So go on, judge me, hate me, you know I want it, I know that you will make the right decision"

#i'm looking at riku's shun's and asahi's undercover lyrics and laughing. I KNOW WHAT THEY MEAN. I KNOW WHY THEIR LYRICS ARE LIKE THIS #it was.. so hard to come up with their song titles #ironically even though reina is 010 and akio is 001 reina's song title was the first one i came up with and akio's was the last #wow asahi and yurika's song lyrics are sure.. interesting :)#👑prisoner 001: miyagawa akio👑#🌸prisoner 002: hanasaki aimi🌸#💔prisoner 003: ishizu shun 💔#🌿prisoner 004: chiba naomi🌿#🍓prisoner 005: sanada kei 🍓#💎prisoner 006: yoshioka eiko💎#🍬prisoner 007: yano asahi 🍬#🎀prisoner 008: maruyama yurika 🎀#🎸prisoner 009: kuroki riku 🎸#🎭prisoner 010: himura reina🎭

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morkitten · 8 months ago

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Cross-posting from Twitter to remind people that every classic Nintendo landmark release stands on the shoulders of a myriad of other games. That the impression of Nintendo as the stewards of game history has a lot to do with their aggressive marketing and with the fact that many of the games they were directly iterating on did not see a release in the US. Even when they did release in the US, they often did not have the same notoriety due to indirectly competing with the marketing might of Nintendo of America.

So if you're sick of this bullshit but you love Nintendo games, here's a list of games to try that will expand your world outside of that company:

If you like Pokémon

If you ask for a consensus of what RPG videogame is the best, Dragon Quest V will very likely be the answer if you're asking Japan specifically. It very directly inspired Pokémon. The DS version looks and plays amazingly and was the first time the game got localized in the West. Prior to DQ5 though, the mechanics of "monster taming" that DQ5 and Pokémon uses actually find their origin in the Megami Tensei series, of which Persona is a spin-off of. Other than those, there's Digimon Story Cybersleuth, the Monster Rancher games, and of course, DQ5 spawned a whole monster raising spin-off with the Dragon Quest Monsters series.

If you like 2D Mario

Super Mario Bros. was definitely a huge deal, and nearly all platformers after it were directly or indirectly inspired by its weight. However, games like Pac-Land and Ghouls'n Ghosts actually preceeded it, so it's not like scrolling platformers began their existence with Mario! With games released after Mario, there's the Sonic series, Klonoa: Door to Phantomile (pictured), Klonoa 2: Lunatea's Veil, Rocket Knight Adventures, Dynamite Headdy, Ristar, Rayman Legends, the Megaman and Castlevania games, and the technical platformer masterpieces Gimmick! and the Umihara Kawase series.

If you like 3D Mario

Jumping Flash! is a 3D platformer pioneer released a whole 2 years before Super Mario 64 and I honestly like it better! Jumping Flash! 2, the Ape Escape games (pictured), Penny's Big Breakaway, Chameleon Twist 1 and 2, the Ratchet & Clank games and Sackboy: A Big Adventure are all superb too.

If you like 3D Zelda

Megaman Legends is a fantastic 3D action and dungeon exploring game and actually released before Ocarina of Time, too. You also have the Ys series (started 2D back in 1987 but has a ton of fantastic 3D entries to this day!), Okami, the dot Hack series, Tail Concerto and Solatorobo.

If you like 2D Zelda

There's absolutely no shortage of great games in this category. Beyond the early Ys games: Beyond Oasis (pictured) is a beautiful top-down action RPG with beat'em up mechanics made by Ancient, the developers of Streets of Rage 2, and the company of legendary composer Yuzo Koshiro. It also had a sequel on the Saturn, with Legend of Oasis. There's also the Mana series (the first game, Final Fantasy Adventure on the Game Boy, I like better than Link's Awakening), Unsighted (developed by two brazillian trans women!), Crusader of Centy, Linkle Liver Story, Soul Blazer, Terranigma, Illusion of Gaia, Sylvan Tale and Alundra.

So there, please try some of these games out. I've not touched a Nintendo game in 10 months and I've cleared over 35 wonderful classic games in that meantime, some of which are listed here. Don't let the one company colonize your mind into believing that's where all the games you like come from, because they're the most well-known in the US, because Nintendo of America indoctrinated whole generations into mostly only consuming their stuff. My focus is on classic games because that's what I like, and also, because it feels like people remember less and less games from a decade+ ago that were not Nintendo.

Yuzu Pays $2.4 Million to End Nintendo Lawsuit

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awkness · 5 months ago

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Serial killer!Platonic!Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 1)

(Part 2) (Part 3)

You don't have the best home life. With your father being a violent drunk and your mother out of the picture, there's little to love about your home. The only silver lining is your older brother, Ben, who's practically raised and protected you your whole life and makes living in this household easier.

But in a surprising turn of events, your father is declared missing, and Ben is granted temporary custody of you. As time passes, you grow more concerned with the circumstances of your father's "disappearance", Ben's behavior, and just how safe you are in your own home.

Content Warnings: murder, gore, isolation, manipulation, physical violence, briefly mentioned child abuse, child endangerment, and general yandere shenanigans. If there's anything I forgot to list here, let me know :3

Authors note: first time posting my writing, hope you like this! This is a bit of a slow burn and features a slightly amoral!Reader. Readers age is left ambiguous

You'd like to think you were good at sneaking around the house. Years of having to creep around at night as your father slept had taught you a lot about the right way to hold yourself, which floor boards to avoid, how to open doors so that they didn't make noise. Tiny bits of knowledge and skill that all seemed to have been in preparation for this moment.

There's a full moon tonight, and you can see it shine through the curtains on the back door window, the only light in the house. Socked feet carefully move through the kitchen floor as your heart rate picks up. Your shoulders slowly hunch in on yourself as you close in on the door.

You haven't felt terror like this before. It's so much different from the horror movies you used to stay up late and watch as a child, or even the fear you felt when your father came home from his business trips. This was different. It twisted your stomach into nauseating knots and sent your heart up to your throat, making its terrified, rapid beating the only thing you could hear. You were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything around you had this strange and distant quality to it, like the whole world had shrunk down to only two things: the backyard door, and your brother.

Was he still looking upstairs? There hadn't been any noises from there in a while. Now that you thought about it, you haven't heard anything in a while. The thought causes tears to start to form in your eyes, and you swallow hard and try to blink them away. Not now. Not until you're out.

Clammy hands grasp the cold metal of the doorknob, and you almost let out a sob in relief. Shaky, you begin to undo the lock, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet house. You cringe as the door opens and lets out a long, loud creak, breaking whatever illusion of stealth you had.

Distantly, you recall a memory of you complaining about the noise to Ben. He had told you that he wasn't going to fix it, that it was better to keep it that way, just in case anyone tried to break in, he would hear it. You wonder if he ever thought about someone trying to break out.

"(Y/N.)"

For a brief, horrible moment, everything stops. Your mind, your lungs, your heart, they all seize up in fear at your name. You were never supposed to be afraid of his voice.

Your lungs squeeze painfully, and you take in a sharp breath, chest heaving. Legs tense, instincts desperately urging you to leave, but your mind kept you rooted to the spot, running through the scenario in your head. Even if you sprinted now, full speed, you would have to stop to undo the latch at the gate to leave the backyard. It would only take a few seconds, and that might be enough for Ben to catch up to you.

"(Y/N), look at me."

If it were anyone else, you would have bolted by now, legs tearing across the lawn as you made your escape. But it was him. Your brother, the same man who cooked your dinner, who helped you do your homework when you didn't know what you were doing, and would then help you cheat when he couldn't figure it out, either. The same voice that would tease you, scold you, nag you, and encourage you, and now kept you from leaving. Against your will, you turned around.

He was standing in the kitchen entrance, bathed in shadow. You could barely see his bruised face, the moonlight only outlining his features just enough for you to see the crazed, panicked look in his eyes, and his chest heaving like he was the one being chased and not you. If you hadn't seen it when you stumbled upon him in the basement just ten minutes prior, you could have missed the blood on his shirt.

But you hadn't, and it was all you could stare at.

For a moment, it's all you do. He stares at you, while you stare at the blood between you two, not a sound to be heard as you both stand, as if under a spell.

He finally breaks the silence.

"Close the door."

You look up to meet his eyes, and the brief act is enough to snap you back to your senses.

You run.

By all means, you tried your best, you really did. But whatever edge that the adrenaline gave you was no match for Ben's superior speed. He was taller than you by nearly a foot and used to run track when he was in high school, of course he would catch up to you.

You were halfway to the gate when he snagged your arm. A short, abrupt shriek leaves your mouth and then his other hand covers your face, smothering any noise you were trying to make.

In one quick, fluid motion, his arm lets go of your hand and then firmly locks around you, back pressing against his chest, the same blood-covered chest you saw before, stained by the body of your poor, mutilated father in the basement you saw only minutes ago, the body hardly recognizable as he had began hacking his limbs into small, easily disposable pieces. His decapitated head lay carelessly on the floor, empty eyes that seemed to plead to you for help as you watched numbly, stricken dumb until Ben finally noticed you staring.

And now he's dragging you back. Back to the house, down the stairs, to the basement, where he'll pin you to the table and do the same thing he had done to your dad-

You lost control of yourself. There was no thought behind what you did. You thrashed and kicked like a wild animal, screams trying to rip through your muffled mouth. You struggled like you had never struggled in your life, and it meant nothing. He was almost at the back door, and you hadn't slowed him down a second. In a fleeting moment of lucidity, you think to hook your leg on the door and to try and slow him down. It works, but only for a moment. With a sharp pull, your leg gives and suddenly you're back inside, helplessly watching the back door swing close. The sound of the lock latching breaks you out of your fit, and dread sets in, stilling your body as you finally realize you can't break free.

As your breathing starts picking up, you finally hear your brother talking, who seems to have been speaking to you for a while. His voice is the same gentle, calming tone one would use on a skittish animal while trying to get them to calm down. It makes you feel ill.

"Shhhhh, it's alright (Y/N), you're fine, you're fine. I need you to relax, alright? C'mon, kid, deep breaths, just like that, you're doing good. Breathe with me."

You feel his chest move against your back as he begins to breathe deeply. The slow, rhythmic movements bringing back emotions from memories of him calming you down from previous anxiety attacks and similar situations begin taking over and give you a false sense of security. Against your better judgment, you relax, if only slightly, against him.

"There we go, that's it. Just take it easy."

And for a second you both stand like that, completely still, as the weight of everything sinks into the both of you.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to let go of you and I need you to promise me you're not going to try anything. No screaming, no running, no nothing. Is that clear?"

It takes you a second to realize he expects you to respond, and you nod quickly, hoping it doesn't seem too enthusiastic.

He sighs and lifts his hand from your mouth. When he doesn't hear your yell, and releases you from his grip, only for him to take your hand.

"This is... going to be a long talk. Let's go sit down in the living room."

Without waiting for you to acknowledge him, he drags you towards the living room, and sits down, having you take the seat next to him.

Enough moonlight peaks through the blinds for you to see Ben. He's hunched, leg bouncing a mile a minute, bruised and bloody hands clasped together, as he shifts in the seat, trying to get comfortable. You don't think there's much of a point. This isn't going to be an easy conversation, there's no point in stalling.

You're reminded of a similar conversation you two had on this couch. Years ago, he sat you down (albeit, under much less distressing circumstances) and told you how mom wasn't coming back home. That she was divorcing dad and leaving you both with him. At the time, you thought it was a little silly how nervous he was. Of course she was leaving. She hadn't been home in months, and even before that, she hadn't been involved enough for you to care about what she did. Her being out of the house for good was a relief to you. A strange stab of guilt runs through you as you remember hoping your dad would leave your life permanently, too.

Ben's leg hasn't stopped bouncing, you see he hasn't looked your way since you sat down. If he's waiting to figure out how to start the conversation, you know you'll be waiting all night, and that's the last thing you want to do. You're going to have to be the one to break the silence.

"You killed dad."

Not the most elegant opener, but it's simple and to the point, so hopefully the bluntness will make it easier for Ben to talk.

He takes a sharp breath and glances down, bouncing becoming quicker. You hate how you feel guilty for making him uncomfortable.

"Yes." He replies, "I did."

He unclasped and clapsed his hands again, and then stared into them, like they held the answers he was looking for. Time passes, and for a moment, you think you're going to have to speak again, but he beats you to the punch.

"He was drinking again. I mean, he always drinks, but it was a lot more than usual. It was the only reason I came down there. He's always making noises down there, but this time, with all the beer he was going through, I thought he finally kicked the bucket, you know? Just a crash and then nothing. So I went to check it out."

He takes a breath and shifts in his seat again, and you can only sit there and watch as he struggles through his story.

"I come down and he's on the ground and his eyes are closed, so I go to check his pulse. That's when he springs up and grabs me, starts yelling in my face about God knows what."

That part is true. You remember hearing that a couple of hours ago, but hearing dad yell is a fairly common occurrence. Common enough that the neighbors wouldn't think much of it, anyway.

"I try and get him off me but he starts hitting me. I can't get him to stop, so I start hitting back. But he wouldn't stop, he..."

He pauses for a moment, a shadow passing through his face. You don't want to interrupt him this time.

"When I realized what I was doing, he was gone."

He sighs and wipes his hand over his face, the shadow recedes and it returns to its previous anxious look.

"If I had called the police and told them what happened, they wouldn't believe me. And even if they did, they would have taken you away from me, and I..."

His face pinches in a way you've never seen before, almost like he's in pain. His eyes glisten with tears.

"I don't know what I would do if you were gone, (Y/N). I couldn't live with myself."

You look down, face heating up with a shame you don't understand.

"If I could hide his body, wait a couple of days, and report him missing, it should be fine. Not like he has any friends, and the neighbors don't care about him. They know he's a drunk who takes off for weeks on end, so it's not like him going missing this is suspicious. And while he's missing, I should be able to get custody of you. Not like there's any other relatives to take care of you. I've got a steady job, I'll be able to take care of you. It shouldn't be a problem."

You look up, and you're taken back to see him staring at you, with a sad, almost pleading look.

"I didn't want you to see that, (Y/N). You weren't supposed to be involved. I honestly thought you'd be asleep by now. I knew I should of locked the door, I should of..."

As he spirals, you start to zone out as you consider everything he's said. You know he's lying. Maybe not about everything, but there's either parts that he's purposefully leaving out or making up. Perhaps, given some time and some well thought out questions from your end, you could parse together the real story, but... did you want to?

Your father is dead. There's no fixing this. You also don't have any other relatives nearby, and the ones you do have you either haven't seen in over a decade or haven't seen at all. If your brother isn't the one taking care of you, that means you'll be put in the foster system. Considering your age, you know your chances of being adopted are slim to none, and the horror stories you've heard of other kids going through the system are enough to make you shudder. You don't know if you could make it.

Yes, he killed your father, but it's not like you ever liked the man anyway. And watching Ben dismember him was... horrific, to say the least, but you can understand it, from a logical perspective. In order to move him, it makes sense that he had to take him apart, even if he seemed a little too emotionless and callous during the whole process.

That only leaves one thing left to consider: do you think Ben will hurt you?

You stare at this grown man, this murderer, your one and only brother, as he sits in front of you, talking himself to the almost to the point of tears, trying to convince you that everything wasn't as bad as it was.

That's been your whole childhood, hasn't it?

You barely remember a time before mom left, and dad would be out most of the time, so it was Ben cooking you breakfast and walking you to the bus stop, making sure you had a lunch already packed in your bag. He would be the one to ask you how your day was, to make you dinner, and to watch whatever movies you wanted, even if he was a little too old for your shows. He would smile and play along with you, just because it made you happy. In those moments, you could pretend you had a normal, functional family, and you were grateful for him.

When dad was home, Ben was the one who made sure everything was safe. And when dad was too drunk and wandering about the house, you would sleep in his room, and if dad ever tried to get to you, Ben would put himself in between you two, protecting you at the price of a broken nose and a handful of bruises. And then when it was over, and you would go over to him and tell him how sorry you were, only for him to put on a brave face and tell you that he was fine when he was clearly not. If you insisted, he would placate you by letting you bandage him, but he would do it with a smile on his face, making little jokes as you patched him up that would have you both coming out of it with a smile.

Everything he did was to make your life easier. This isn't any different, isn't it?

You reach out and take his hand, and that's enough to stop him mid-sentence.

"It's okay, Ben. I understand."

He blinks at you owlishly, clearly not expecting you to say that.

"You do?"

The disbelief is evident in his tone, but you don't blame him for it. You can hardly believe yourself, but it's the truth.

"Yeah, I don't blame you. Besides, what's done is done, we can't change that."

You take a breath, readying yourself for what you need to ask next.

"What do you need me to do?"

This shocks him more than your previous words, and he shifts, looking visibly uncomfortable with your question.

"I don't want you to be involved-"

"But I am." You interrupt. "I know what happened, so I'm a part of it. I need to know what I need to do."

You see him swallow, and you watch his face as he slowly takes in your words, the weight of them sinking in, his face morphing from anxious to somber.

He takes his hand out of yours and puts it on your shoulder.

"The only thing you need to do right now is to go to sleep. We'll need to go over our cover story soon, but that can wait until tomorrow. It's late, and I know you're tired. I can take care of everything from here."

He squeezes your shoulder and makes a motion like he's going in for a hug, before jerking back, thinking better of it.

Instead, he looks at you, a sad, grief-stricken look on his face.

"Goodnight, (Y/N). Sleep tight."

"Goodnight." Is all you reply before he lets you go. He gets up and makes his way to the basement as you watch from your spot on the couch.

You know you both won't be able to sleep well tonight.

You stumble down the stairs, still half asleep, grumbling while trying not to trip over your own feet.

It had taken you a while for you to fall asleep, yet your body had refused to let you sleep in. As soon as the sun rose, you did as well. Unusual, given that it was summer and you always slept in, but you suppose the stress of last night and your upcoming talk with Ben wouldn't let you rest for longer than a few hours.

As you make it downstairs, you enter the kitchen. The first thing you notice is Ben, newspaper in hand, reading at the dinning room table. Or at least it looked like he was reading. After watching him for a moment, you noticed his eyes unfocused as he stared off into space.

In broad daylight, you're able to take a better look at his injuries, and it's much worse than it had seemed last night. He's got a busted lip and bloody knuckles, with several bruises across his arms. It makes your stomach twist in the familiar way seeing him hurt always does. The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent than usual. Did he stay up all night?

At least he changed his clothes. The blood from yesterday is gone, replaced by the familiar sight of him in old, ratty pajamas.

"Good morning." You say, more to announce your presence than anything else.

He jumps in his seat, newspaper crinkling in his hands, seemingly taken completely off guard by your arrival. Yeah, he definitely didn't get any sleep.

"Good morning." He finally replies a little too quickly, folding the newspaper and laying it down as he got up. "How did you sleep?"

You shrug. The banality of the question contrasted uncomfortably with its context, making you not want to linger on it. "Better than I thought I would. You?"

He awkwardly shuffles in place, obviously not having any idea what to do with himself now that he was standing, but refusing to sit back down. "Uh, couldn't get any. Was busy."

The weight of the words brought an uncomfortable lull in the conversation, and your eyes wandered as they tried not to look at his.

"Well, uh, you gotta be hungry, right? Why don't we go out to eat? I'm sure there's some restaurants still open, we can sit down to eat, or swing by that doughnut shop you like."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out, given you look like... well, that." You gesture to his injuries.

He looks momentarily confused before the realization hits him. Self-consciously, he hides his wounded knuckles behind his back and looks towards the ground.

"Breakfast at home is fine, too. My pancakes are better anyway." He says a little too tensely, the joke not quite landing right.

The next thing you know, the kitchen is alive with the sounds of cooking as he quickly whisks the ingredients together, and then begins pouring them into the pan.

You walk over to the pantry, scanning the shelves.

"We don't have any syrup."

Ben lets off a soft groan, and you wander over to the freezer.

"Well, pancakes without syrup aren't the worst, just a little dry." He grumbles, more to himself than to you.

You open the freezer, inspect its contents, and announce your discovery.

"We have ice cream."

You turn back just in time to see the questioning look he shoots you.

"Ice cream? For breakfast?"

"Well, considering the night we had, I figured we could use a little pick me up."

He sighs, and his brows furrow as his cheeks heat up, his face a strange mix of irritation and shame. Under normal circumstances, you would never be able to get away with this, but considering everything that's happened, you can imagine it won't take him too long to cave.

"Hm, well- fine. Just this once."

You nod and grab the tub of ice cream. You suppose there were a few perks to watching your brother dismember your father in front of you. Maybe later, you could ask for that game you've had your eye on...

A plate of fresh, hot pancakes is put in front of you before you can fully finish that thought, and you search in the cutlery drawer for the ice cream scoop.

"Leave the tub out for me."

"Will do." You reply.

You prepare your plate and set it down at the dining table, digging in as he finishes making his pancakes. When he finally sits next to you, you're halfway through your stack, already getting full. You watch him pick up his fork and knife, ready to cut off a piece, but instead, he just stops, eyes empty as they focused on the vanilla scoop slowly melting. Seconds tick by, and he still doesn't move, unaware of the time passing, or you watching him.

You suppose you could blame your lack of sleep on what you did next, or perhaps that innate sense of mischief that all little siblings are born with, but in your heart, you know better. Nothing could be as disturbing as watching your brother silently stew in whatever internal misery he was in.

So, without thinking, you scoop up some of the melting ice cream on your fingers and smear it on his nose.

His eyes went wide in shock and his body tensed when he realized what you had done. The rapidly melting dessert threatened to drip down his nose as he sat, and another painful moment of tension passed between you two.

Maybe that wasn't the best idea.

Before you can apologize, his face cracks into a small grin, empty eyes filling with much-needed warmth. You let out a breath as your shoulders relax, relieved at the familiar sight. He takes a small dollop of now melting ice cream from his nose and tastes it before he speaks.

"Didn't I teach you not to play with your food?"

"Not well enough, it seems." You quip back.

Then, with a mounting sense of horror, you watch him pick up a much bigger glob of ice cream off his plate as his smile turns into a devious smirk.

"I guess I was never the best role model, was I?"

Before he can smear the food over your face, you jump out of your chair and run to the opposite end of the kitchen where he gives chase. The two of you run around the house, carefree laughter filling the air, without a thought to anything that transpired the night before. Ben always had a way of making you forget your worries.

Everything after that was pretty simple. Ben talked you through the cover story and what your part would be, which basically amounted to "I was asleep when everything happened." That suited you fine, anything that minimized your time talking to the police was welcome. Ben handled most of that as well, spinning a tale about how your father was binge drinking more than usual, and then had up and left in the middle of the night. The only reason Ben hadn't stopped him was that this wasn't out of character for him to just up and leave with no car, no phone, or anything but whatever drink he had.

Which was true, it was a rather annoying habit that had your neighbors side-eyeing your family and complaining to your brother whenever they got the chance. It all seems to have worked out, though, as they provided great testimony when asked by the cops if this was unusual behavior for him.

Where the story differs from reality is that your father always managed to wander home. The way Ben tells it, he left and simply never came back. He had waited so long because he was sure that the man would return sooner or later like he always did, and didn't want to cause trouble when it wasn't necessary. Given your father's reputation, the cops believed him easily.

Soon after, your father was declared missing and your brother was appointed as a consevator on behalf of your missing father, allowing him to manage the house you lived in and pay the bills. He was also granted temporary custody of you, given that he was the only family you had in the area.

As for your home life, things were surprisingly normal.

In terms of your routine, very few things changed after those first few days. Sure, Ben often had to work late now and was more busy filling out paperwork to make sure everything was fine, legal-wise, but it had little effect on your life outside of those first few weeks. You settled back into the routine you had before: wake up late, and spend the day doing whatever you pleased. If Ben wasn't working late, you would both eat dinner before winding down and going to bed. Except now, there was no more waiting for your father coming home, or having to hide in your room and count the days before he leaves again. The peace you felt while openly sitting in the living room, with no obvious threat looming over you, was both exhilarating and disconcerting.

The neighbors seemed to act differently towards you. You would go out to pick up the mail and see them either out walking their dog or sitting on their front porch, taking in the summer sun. You would make eye contact with them and the look they gave you wasn't annoyance, or that vaguely pained look they gave when your father was being particularly loud the previous night. It was odd, some cross between pity and something you couldn't put your finger on at first until you finally connected the dots: suspicion. What if they knew, or at least suspected, that he hadn't just wandered off? Even without any clear evidence, it doesn't take a genius to see why you and your brother would want your father gone. After that, every time a person looked your way, you could feel their hidden disgust at you. They knew what you were and what you had abetted, even if they never said it out loud. Slowly, you stopped going outside, preferring to stay cooped up in the house instead.

Ben didn't mind much, even encouraging your hermit life style. But in all fairness, he didn't seem to mind much these days, always in high spirits, no matter the circumstances. The bad days were good, and the good days were amazing, especially when you both spent them together. The best day for him, though, was when he was appointed temporary custody of you.

After court, he had taken you out to a fancy restaurant in the good part of town and told you to order anything you wanted. It was the first time you held a menu that had lobster on it.

He even has a framed photo from the day hanging up in the hall, like it was some sort of celebratory adoption event, and not the day he was granted temporary custody of you because your father is missing.

But isn't it technically adoption? You know your father isn't coming back, so it only leaves Ben to take care of you. And that's a good thing, right? When you were a child, you had always fantasized about what life would be like if it was just you and your brother living in this house, no parents around. Child you would be jumping for joy, ecstatic about the turn of events. You should be happy, so why is it you can never look at the framed photo without feeling odd?

There was just one questionable development from this event, and that was your brother's habit of visiting the basement more often.

The only reason you knew was because you noticed the door was sometimes left open, and the occasional muddy footprints that would lead down into the basement. They would be cleaned up before you could see them again, leaving you wondering if you had only imagined it.

Your father... the corpse couldn't still be down there, right? What other business could he have down there?

You tried not to think about it too hard. It haunted you anyway.

One night, you had a dream. You were descending the stairs to the basement, flashlight in hand, trying to find something. As you opened the door, a pungent, rotting smell burned your nostrils. For whatever reason, your dream self had continued on, scanning the area, stopping once the frail, white light landed on a dismembered corpse.

You struggled against your dream self, trying to will them to run back up the stairs, but they continued, creeping ever closer to the foul, bloated pile of flesh, until the soles of your shoes were covered in the liquid runoff from the gore.

Suppressing a gag, you bend over, trying to get a better look at the corpse's face, only to see yourself.

That dream left you as scared as you were confused.

The stairs to the basement have always intimidated you for as long as you can remember. The lighting was poor and the stairs were worn, as if they were older then the rest of the house, letting off a creak with every step. The door itself was in bad shape, with paint pealing and a doorknob that couldn't lock half the time. The inside was bare and damp, only functioning as storage for whatever possessions your father, and now your brother, owned that they didn't mind mildewing over.

Though the fear lessened with age, you never had any reason to go down there, so you never had to fully confront it. You had mostly accepted that there was always a small, childish part of you that would be apprehensive of dirty, dark places like basements, and you were mostly fine with it. Unfortunately, recent experience had made it a full blown fear again.

Yet here you were, standing right at the edge of the stairs, debating on whether or not to go down.

You worry your lip, mentally sorting through your options.

On one hand, you had no business going down there. Ben said he would take care of it, and you trusted him, there's no reason to doubt him. But on the other hand, there was no reason for Ben to be going down there so often in the first place. If the body had been removed from the house, then what was he doing? Where was the body? Why had you never seen him enter or leave the basement? Could you just be making this up? But you know you saw the footprints going down there. And yet...

"(Y/N)?"

You startle and quickly turn around only to see your brother behind you, a nervous smile on his face.

"Everything alright?"

Your gaze lowers as you continue to bite your lip. You taste blood. You know you should quit, but a little blood has never stopped you before.

You hear a small sigh before he walks over to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. His attempt at being reassuring, you assume.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me, (Y/N)."

If you weren't so consumed by your anxieties and fears, perhaps you would have thought over your words before blurting them out, but that wasn't in the cards for today.

"Is dad down there?"

You still hadn't looked up, eyes glued to his feet, but you could feel the mood sour ever so slightly. Or maybe you were imagining that too.

His voice came out hushed, but earnest.

"Of course not. What makes you ask that?"

"You've been going down there a lot lately, and you never have before, I just assumed..."

Your voice had gotten quieter as you spoke until it finally died out at the end, the ridiculousness of the statement seeming obvious when you said it out loud. You were making a problem out of what, exactly? Your brother going into the basement a couple of times? Is that really all it took to make you suspicious of him? You feel a lump form in your throat.

He speaks to you, tone even, slow and reassuring, like a parent to an upset child. Your face heats up in shame.

"The water heater hasn't been working right. I've been down there trying to repair it, but I haven't been able to keep it running hot water for more than a couple days at a time, so I have to keep going down to fix it. Do you remember yesterday when you told me something was wrong with the shower?"

You easily recall a memory of yourself taking a shower, the water suddenly going cold. You had got out to go complain to Ben about it. Why hadn't you connected the dots sooner?

You nod, and he gives you an encouraging smile.

"You've had this on your mind for a while, haven't you?"

You nod again, more vigorously as the lump in your throat turns painful, and your lip begins to wobble. You tried to swallow it all down as you began to speak, voice wobbly and frail.

"I've just been so worried, all the neighbors keep giving us funny looks, and I had this dream-"

Your throat closes as you choke over your tears. Without thinking you cover your face, shoulders bunched up as you try to hide yourself. This was stupid, why couldn't you stop crying?

Warm arms wrapped around you, comforting and firm, as put your hair

"It's alright, kid, you're okay."

Without thinking, you hug him back, the comfort too tempting to resist.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't think it would be an issue. If I had known you would of been this upset, I would of told you about it before. I should of known better."

You struggle to repress your sobs as you shake your head and push away just enough to look at him.

"It's not your fault. I was being stupid, I should of said something."

He smiled and nodded, seemingly content with your answer.

"Why don't we go sit down and watch a movie? You can pick it out."

You nod back, and that's enough for him to give your shoulders a squeeze as he moves to let go, but you don't let him.

"Wait."

He looks back, expression encouraging as he waits for you to continue speaking.

"If he's not in the basement, where did you put him?"

His smile stays on his face, but it looks strained. His eyes lose that warmth they had before, an empty quality entering them. You're painfully aware of the fact that you and Ben are the only two left in the house, and how close you are to the basement. A chill runs down your spine.

"Do you really want to know that?"

His hands were still gripping your shoulders, and you had a feeling they would stay there until you gave him the right answer.

"No." You lie.

He lets out a breath, and so do you, both of you relaxing at your submission. His hands fall from your shoulders, going to your back as he guides you away from the basement.

"That's for the best." He says. "You don't need to be worrying about that, alright? That's what I'm here for."

You nod, at a loss for what else to do as he guides you towards the living room.

The next day, you notice a new lock on the basement door. Neither of you comment on it.

#yandere #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere original character #yandere oc #x reader #yandere x reader #gn reader

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zmalkarnar1 · 4 years ago

Text

What About Us? Part II: Oikawa x Male Reader

Here is the second part of the Oikawa x Male reader I posted the other week. Wasn’t satisfied leaving it where it was.

Again, if you aren’t ahead in the manga there are spoilers. Enjoy.

“Iwa-chan, I have to get this done!”

“No. You need a break Y/n.” Iwaizumi said, pulling Y/n away from his computer and through his pigsty apartment.

“But Iwaizumi, just another thirty minutes...no, just another hour and I can be done with this piece,” Y/n whined, pulling back towards his pc.

“Y/n, we agreed to meet with Hanamaki and Matsukawa for lunch. We would’ve been there already, but I swear you’re as bad as Trashykawa, forgetting everything except your art.”

“Just a little bit, I just need a little more time,” Y/n pleaded, trying to pull away from Iwaizumi.

“Y/n. I will carry your ass outside and drag you by your ear.”

“But Iwa-chan…”

“Now,” he said, arms crossed, exasperated as if he was dealing with a child. He probably was. Y/n wilted under Iwaizumi’s gaze, and slowly got up, shoulders slouched. Iwaizumi hung his arm around him.

“It’ll be fine. Some time with friends will do you good.

Giving d/n a pat goodbye, Y/n let Iwaizumi lead the way to the restaurant they had promised to meet their friends. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Y/n’s eyes gazed at the surrounding cityscape, the final vestiges of winter fading away as the new birth of spring sprouted forward. Iwaizumi was right; he needed a break. Though he’d never admit it to his friend. Even his walks with d/n have been little more than fever dreams to him, everything was focused back on his work.

“Man, it's nice out. You should have told me the weather was this great,” Y/n teased knowing full well Iwaizumi had done just that.

Iwaizumi stopped and stared deadpan at Y/n. He’d forgotten that Y/n was sometimes just as bad as Oikawa, well, not quite as bad. At least, he’s gotten worse ever since they left high school. Iwaizumi always let it slide; he figured it was how Y/n dealt with all the stress piling up on him. Y/n was always cheerful, and a bit of a tease, but Iwaizumi knew that more often than not, it was a façade, a smokescreen. He was hiding his pain, just like he did in high school. Iwaizumi wasn’t fooled however.

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”

“Huh? No more than normal,” Y/n said, that ghost of a smile returning to his face. “Why’d you ask? Worried about me?”

“Yes, I am. Trashykawa told me how you’ve been working yourself into a mental breakdown,”

“Oikawa, that snitch!” Y/n cursed under his breath. He should have known Tooru was going to rat on him to Iwaizumi.

“Yea, he is, but you really can’t keep on like this. Ever since he went back to Argentina you’ve been even more of a recluse. You barely even check your texts!” Iwaizumi said

Y/n sighed, letting his walls lip for a moment. Iwaizumi was right. He was always consumed with work. He loved his aft, his animation. He loved that his work was enjoyed and held dear to thousands around the world. Despite the high demands of his employers, and the fact he barely survives week to week, he still loved art. But now it was something else.

Ever since he had met Tooru that winter, it's like he was woken up from a trance. After they left high school, all throughout college, everything had happened so fast. His mother sick, his father leaving; Y/n was exhausted and broken down. Before Oikawa showed up, he was barely alive, just walking through each day, one after the other, barely recognizing the world around him. He had lost so much, and, Y/n admitted, work allowed him an excuse to bury his exhaustion and pain deep inside, trapped behind a wall so thick he became numb to the emotions roiling inside of him. His pain and tears hidden away, his work was the perfect escape, despite the endless tasks his job required. It was his way to shy away from the world. Better to be busy than alone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t cry, or feel the loss of his family, he just didn’t want to confront it, not alone like he was. He didn’t want to feel so hollow, so torn, alone. So he worked, and worked, until Tooru showed up on his evening walk one winter day, and the dam that had begun to leak from overwork and exhaustion burst. His memories and old feelings he left unresolved boiling to the surface. And now he couldn’t get his mind off of Oikawa. Oikawa, who sent him a text encouraging him each day, a word of support awaiting him on his phone each morning as he woke.

And every week, Tooru found time to call him, sharing volleyball stories and giving Y/n a chance to destress from work. Each call happened during Y/n’s waking hours, which meant Oikawa must have been getting up at ungodly hours just for a chat. With Y/n’s unresolved feelings with Tooru came all his damned emotions, threatening to tear him apart, and the last thing he wanted to do was show weakness to his friends again.

So, Y/n did the only thing he knew, throwing himself into a job that was slowly killing him. He stopped responding immediately to Oikawa’s morning texts. He let the past two calls go to voicemail. Too busy with work, deadlines with animes being pushed up. He could talk next week.

Y/n vaguely remembered talking with Oikawa for a few minutes before making a weak excuse about work again. In truth, he really didn’t want to handle these emotions right now, and as stressful as work could be, his art allowed him to be numb and bury them all away. But since Tooru kept coming back, it was getting harder and harder to hold them in check.

“You know Y/n, you’re going to have to deal with your feelings and emotions eventually,” Iwaizumi said

Y/n stumbled, “What? What do you mean?”

“Even a blind man can see that you’re hiding your feelings for Oikawa behind your work. You’ve done that for years. You’re going to have to face him eventually.” Iwaizumi said, shrugging. Perhaps Y/n wasn’t as good an actor as he thought.

“This coming from you? All your emotion is wrapped up in violence,” Y/n scoffed.

“At least I’m a stable, functioning adult.”

“Hey! I’m functioning!” Y/n argued

“You’d forget to buy food if I didn’t stop around every once and a while.”

“That only happened once!”

“It’s not my fault the two of you have the emotional intelligence of a toddler.” Iwaizumi said

“Iwa-chan, so mean” Y/n whined in imitation of Oikawa

“Don’t be like him or I’ll whack you!” Iwaizumi laughed, “Anyways, you really are going to need to find some way to work through your emotions. You’ve held in everything that’s happened since high school and your mother’s death. Consider this an intervention.”

“I know,” Y/n said, aware that he was right. “Food first. Emotions can wait.” Forever, if Y/n had his choice. “How’s work with the national team going?”

“It’s busy. Honestly, I’m always a little worried that Ushijima is going to break Hinata’s face one of these days at the rare times the team is actually together.”

“Must be fun though,” Y/n hummed.

Y/n let Iwaizumi ramble on about his work, glad to be off the topic of the emotional wreck that is his life. He didn’t really listen, and he knew Iwaizumi could tell, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Oikawa was back in his head, and he kept wondering when he’d be able to move past it all.

By the time they made their way to the restaurant, Maki and Mattsun were already there. They already had drinks. Apparently they’d been waiting a while. How late was he? As he went to sit next to Iwaizumi, Makki was already teasing him.

“You know, I remember when you’d get all flustered why you were even a minute late to class,”

Y/n blushed, “Oh shut up Makki. At least I passed all my classes. What was your Algebra II grade again?”

“He’s right. Remember when Y/n panicked when he forgot about the English test?” Mattsun said,

“Oh, I won’t forget that,” Iwaizumi laughed, slapping Y/n on the back, “Was so afraid of failing he skipped class, hiding in a broom closet, and somehow managed to lock himself in.”

“Stop it!” Y/n whined, “I left my work for this!” The others just laughed. It was all in good fun, he knew.

As their food came and went, Y/n allowed himself to step away from work and enjoy an afternoon with old friends. He still kept his walls up though. He was strong enough to not fall apart in front of his friends.

“So how is Oikawa?” Mattsun asked, bringing up the topic that Y/n had been purposely avoiding for the entire lunch.

“He’s fine, I guess.” Y/n said, “Big game coming up in a week or two.”

“You guess? Aren’t you talking to him every week?” Makki asked

“Y/n here has been ghosting him because he’s afraid that he likes him again,” Iwaizumi teased

“Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t care for him. We can all tell you’re still inexplicably obsessed with Oikawa.”

“Stop it!” Y/n begged, a slight blush forming, “Can we change the topic. Please?”

“Ok, we’ll stop teasing you. For now.” Iwaizumi said, as Y/n nodded gratefully.

Y/n left the restaurant with Iwaizumi, heading back to take d/n for his afternoon walk to the park.

“What are you going to do Y/n? You really can’t keep on like this.”

“I know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks Iwa-chan,”

“I can walk with you and d/n for a bit if you want,” Iwaizumi said, “I have nothing else planned today,”

“No thanks. I need to think this through on my own,” Y/n said, waving farewell to Iwaizumi.

And then he was alone again, walking d/n down the very path that brought him to his fateful reunion with this old boyfriend, and shattered the illusion he had been living under. If he could even call it living.

“What do I do, d/n?” Y/n whispered, scratching the dog’s ears before throwing his tennis ball again, watching d/n rush through the dog park after it.

I still like him. God I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Y/n took a seat on the new spring growth of grass as d/n came bounding back to him. The animal, sensing Y/n’s discomfort, sat down next to him and dropped his head on Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n chuckled, scratching his ears again, “Thanks d/n.”

Sitting together with d/n, Y/n knew what he had to do. Before he did anything else, he needed to resolve things with Oikawa, however they played out. He took out his phone and rang Iwaizumi. He was going to need a big favor.

Oikawa sat down in the locker room before the game. It was the biggest game of the year. Biggest game since the Olympics the previous summer. This game would decide if him and his team would enter into the Men's Volleyball Club World Championship Tournament. Tobio was sure to be there. Oikawa would too, in order to show his former underclassmen that he was now the superior setter.

Yet for the first time, his mind wasn’t entirely on the game. No matter how he tried to settle in and prepare as normal, his thoughts drifted back to Y/n./ Y/n had been ghosting him. Not fully, but even when they did talk, he had been distant and full of excuses in order to slip away. And then suddenly he texted saying they had something they needed to talk about.

Oikawa was worried. Has something happened? Had he pushed too hard? He wanted to give him space, but he was worried for his old friend. His love. Was Y/n okay, or was it that he just didn’t want to talk with Oikawa anymore? Was their relationship truly and fully broken? Never had Oikawa been so distracted from volleyball. He knew he dealt with the break up by throwing himself further into the game. But now that he’d had that chance meeting, he couldn’t deny it; he still loved Y/n. Because no matter what happened, he was always the one who supported his volleyball dream, and was there for every win and every loss. He left the locker room, his thoughts still lost and confused.

Y/n cheered, poster in hand, as the players emerged onto the court to warm up. He had watched the Olympic games, but this was his first time seeing a league game. It’s not like they showed Argentine Volleyball League games in Japan. When the game started, he only had eyes for Oikawa

Tooru’s game was off. Y/n could tell that something was bothering him. He could see him make mistakes, however slight, preventing his team from getting into a rhythm. A toss too high, one too close to the net. The game was still close, but Tooru’s team just couldn’t seem to take the lead. Y/n felt a little guilty. Was it him, his ghosting, his late night message, throwing his old friend off?

It can’t be. Nothing has ever broken his focus from Volleyball before…

Oikawa muttered to himself. He wasn’t playing well. By no means was it bad, but his tosses refused to leave his hands the way they should. They were always just a touch off. Too low here, too far from the net there. And then he’d scramble, overcompensating for the next one. And his team became unhinged.

Their receives became shaky, and their spikes wild as they began to rush. A setter's job was to restore balance to his team. That’s what Blanco would have done. But today, Oikawa was spinning them closer and closer to disaster. He was the farthest he’d ever been from reaching his goal. He couldn’t get Y/n off his mind. Even his serves faltered.

They went down the first set. It was okay. It was only one set. The second they brought to a deuce, but fell a few rallies later. His chances of making the Club World Championship this year slipping further and further away. And still Y/n invaded his thoughts. They’d have to be perfect the rest of the match.

But things started off the same way. Oikawa’s first serve slamming down just outside the line. 0-1. The next few rallies were short, but slowly and surely they fell behind. 7-9. Oikawa’s toss went just a breadth too high again, and the spike was dug, blasting back down on their side of the court. 7-10. The serve came at them, their libero flying it high up above the team. A good receive, if a little off center. Under it right away, Tooru set it to his middle blocker, already in the air. It was good, and the quick passed through the block, only to be dug before it could reach the floor. Back at them, barely dug, Oikawa’s team scrambled to get it over, a chance ball for their opponents. The toss flew up, the block in place and shutting down the avenues of attack. The spike came down hard anyways, blasting off the block and heading towards the stands.

Oikawa was after it a split second later, diving into the group towards the sign boards, he blasted the ball back up in the air to his team. But as he scrambled up, something in the second row caught his eyes. He usually ignored the crowds during games like these, but a poster was written in Japanese, and he couldn’t help but stop to read it, even as his team were barely treading enough water to keep their heads above the stormy surf of the match.

Go Tooru, Go. Rule the Court.

Only one person would create a banner like that for him. Still on his knees, he brought his gaze up and me e/c eyes sparkling down at him, Y/n’s smile full and invigorating, cheering his name. “Go Tooru, go!”

Oikawa froze. His mind went blank. Every time he tried to bring it back to the game, it fell apart. Only one thought remained.

Y/n is here. Cheering for me. In Argentina, in the front rows, watching and cheering for me. He came all the way across the globe to watch me play.

For the first time that he could remember, Oikawa completely forgot about volleyball as the rally ended, him still staring up at Y/n. He completely forgot about volleyball. At that moment the only thought going through his mind was that no matter what happened, him and Y/n were going to be okay. Then he heard his voice again, screaming over the crowd.

“Remember Tooru, the team strongest as a group of six is the stronger team!” Y/n called out.

All the frustration and worries wracking his mind fell away and he was back into the game. With Y/n at his back, nothing could go wrong. And he remembered Iwa-chan’s words. Stronger as a group of six. He’d been trying to force everything on his own, just like when he was a kid.

Tooru stood up, shaking his head and dusting off his jersey. Looking back up to Y/n he gave him the warmest smile he could and a simple nod. Then, he was back to the game.

“Sorry,” he said to his team as he returned to the court, “but I’m back now.”

His team only nodded, seeing something change in his eyes, and the match truly began.

Y/n looked down into Tooru’s dazzling brown eyes, eyes he always seemed to get lost in. Then he realized the rally was still going on, and Tooru was still on his yankees, staring up at him as if he were a phantom. Y/n’s heart fluttered and a tear threatened to fall from his eyes. Had Tooru really forgotten about the rally? For him? Indeed, when the ball finally slammed down a moment later, Tooru was still looking up at him. Yes, Tooru really did forget about volleyball for him. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

Maybe he does think about me as much as I think of him.

Then he was on his feet and flashed Y/n the brightest, most genuine smile he’d even seen from Tooru, his eyes enrapturing for a moment. As Tooru nodded to him, returning to his team, Y/n knew he still liked Oikawa Tooru, and it was okay.

The rest of the game flew by and Tooru melted into the match. With Y/n’s eyes at his back, he and his team flowed into each set and roared back to life, ruling the court. And every few points, Tooru turned to lock eyes with Y/n, to ensure he was still there, that he wasn’t a dream plaguing his mind. It only helped to serve to rekindle Y/n’s feelings for the brunette. It wasn’t just about volleyball. Maybe it never was.

Oikawa’s serve slammed down for another ace, ending the fifth and final set. Y/n cheered him on as his team won entrance to the Club World Championship. After celebrating with this team, Tooru ran over towards the stands, yelling for Y/n, but it was hard to hear over the screams of the crowd. Y/n took out his phone and pointed to it, screaming “Call me later!”

Y/n knew he had to spend some time working with his team, but knew Tooru got the message as he nodded and waved before trotting off. Y/n could wait one more time. He could wait once more. When Tooru was done with his team he’d come for Y/n and then...then they’ll see. Leaving the stadium, Y/n made his way to his motel, to await Tooru’s call.

What am I doing here? Halfway across the world? To do what? Confess I still love him? Why’d I let Iwaizumi get into my head?

Y/n sat in his motel room, doubt beginning to wrack his mind. He had rejected Oikawa, ultimately, by refusing to come with him again. And now, here he was, in Argentina, unable to speak the language, with no idea what he was doing, following erupting emotions he never dealt with and can no longer control. In fact, they were driving him crazy, he needed to deal with this. All he could do was wait, and he hated it.

Oikawa joined his team in their locker room. They were already celebrating, jostling each other and him, but Oikawa had thoughts only for Y/n. Even their post game meeting was a blur to him. As it ended, Tooru immediately grabbed his phone. It was flooded with pictures from his game, including a few of him on all fours gazing in disbelief up at Y/n.

“Iwa-chan will love this one,” the message below the picture read.

No! I can’t let him send that to Iwa-chan. He’d tease me for weeks.

Tooru rushed out of the locker room, not even bothering to change, his team looking at his back knowingly. He was lucky it was a home game. Even as he rushed to his car, his phone was already dialing Y/n’s number.

“Y/n, where are you at?”

“Back at my motel,” Y/n answered

“Where? I’m coming!”

With Y/n’s motel and room number, Oikawa hit the roads of San Juan to find him.

Y/n waited. Tooru was on his way. He needed to deal with this, whatever the result. But now that he was finally shifting through his emotions, the loss of his family, the loneliness, the stress of his dream tearing him apart, he began to falter. Now that he finally recognized his feelings for Tooru, he was afraid, terrified of what was to come. It made him miss the numbness of his work.

He was scared Tooru didn’t want him like he hoped he did. He was terrified that he did, and it would fall apart. He was afraid of being weak in front of Tooru again. And with those thoughts rushing through his mind, his neurons firing doubt through his brain, Tooru arrived.

“Y/n, I’m here, open up!”

The door opened with a slow whisper, but Tooru burst in, slamming the door open past Y/n, engulfing his (shorter/taller) friend into a crushing bearhug.

“Y/n, I can’t believe you came! What are you doing here? I thought you had work!?”

“Can’t breathe. Tooru, let go.”

“Sorry. But why are you here?”

“You’re all sweaty too! Couldn’t you have at least changed out of your uniform,” Y/n whined as Tooru finally let him down.

“I just had to rush over. I didn’t want you waiting for a second longer. So? I thought you didn’t want to leave Japan? Did you enjoy the game? Thanks for coming!”

“One question at a time Tooru,” Y/n laughed, “like I texted, there’s something we need to talk about. And I wanted to do it in person.”

“So, what is so important you had to fly across the globe for me?” Tooru teased

Here Y/n began to stutter, and then stop. He couldn’t do this.

“You aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Y/n shook his head.

“That’s okay. I can wait,” Tooru said, his voice quiet and gentle, stepping back to give Y/n a little space. “How about we go grab some food and head to my place. I have a spare bedroom. Might be more comfortable than this dirty motel,”

“Y/n only nodded, grabbing his stuff.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving. I used just about all of my spending money on the plane and game ticket. I haven’t had much for food.” Y/n admitted.

“That’s some planning,” Tooru laughed, “You used to try to have every detail planned out.

“Oh, shut up and drive.”

The two made their way to Oikawa’s place, eating the takeout Tooru had ordered and picked up on the way.

“How’d you get off work?”

“I, uh...spent an all nighter, or two in order to catch up. Maybe three? I don’t really remember much of it. Iwa-chan was less than pleased.” Y/n admitted, scowling when he remembered the scolding Iwaizumi had given him.

“I bet he wasn’t. What did he do?”

“Nothing fun. Speaking of Iwaizumi though, you’re a snitch. You told him,” Y/n accused.

“What? Me? I never!” Oikawa argued, dramatically trying to protest his innocence, his arms flailing around wildly.

“Hands on the wheel! I know you told him!”

“Fine, I did.” Tooru sighed, his tone getting serious, “I was worried.”

“It’s okay. I got payback.”

“What?”

“Iwaizumi and crew are going to love some of those photos,” Y/n said, smiling

“You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t Y/n!”

“Oh, I did. Expect some hard core teasing,” Y/n laughed as Oikawa groaned.

“Come on, we’re just about there.”

To Y/n’s surprise, Oikawa’s apartment was very nice, and immaculate. Y/n imagined it would be a disaster area, much like it was when they were kids. Maybe Oikawa had grown up a bit. More than Y/n had apparently.

Tooru jumped into the shower to clean up as Y/n settled into the spare bedroom, that night they watched a movie in relative silence and turned in. Taking out his phone, Y/n began texting Iwaizumi.

Y/n: I can’t do this Iwa-chan.

Iwaizumi: Y/n, you have to deal with this, and everything else. You can’t keep bottling it up.

Y/n: Iwa-chan, I’m scared

Iwaizumi: Do you still love him?

Y/n: I think so.

Iwaizumi: Then talk to him!

Y/n: But I don’t know. Does he still love me?

Iwaizumi: No buts! I saw that photo. He is, and always has been, completely in love with you.

Y/n: Ok, ok, I’ll tell him.

Iwaizumi: Good. If not I will fly over and beat both of you till you figure this out.

Y/n slept alone in Oikawa’s spare room. He had it in case family visited, which they did from time to time.

The following day, Oikawa took Y/n sight seeing through the city of San Juan. Y/n enjoyed the sights and spending time with Tooru. However, with each passing moment his stress and fear continued to build. His gaze shifted away and each time Oikawa could see it, breaking him, what Tooru knew he should have been able to see years ago. When the day came to a close, they found themselves back in Tooru’s apartment, sitting quietly on his couch. Tooru was going to give y/n as much time as he needed.

“Tooru, I…” Y/n stopped and sat back, an exhausted sigh breaking free. Tooru could tell he was holding back tears.

“If you’re not ready yet…”

“No.” Y/n interrupted, “It’s just...I never…” Y/n sniffled, choking back his tears. Tooru’s heart began to throb in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold Y/n in his arms, to caress him, and make his pain and fears vanish into the night. But he didn’t want to push Y/n if he wasn’t ready.

“Sorry. I promised myself i wouldn't cry,”

“You’re hurting still, aren’t you. It’s okay,” Tooru said, reaching his hand out to Y/n’s and squeezing it, hoping to reassure him.

“I just didn’t want to be weak in front of you again. It’s always like this. I hate being so weak,”

“Weak? Y/n, you aren’t weak!” Tooru argued

“Yes, yes I am. All I do is hide from everything,”

“You’re the last person I’d call weak,” Tooru said, turning his h/c friend so he can look into his pained, but pretty e/c eyes. “Y/n, I’ve seen you push through school, with top marks, virtually alone. As your dad practically abandoned you, it was you who helped your mother, even as she was sick. You who, despite everything, came to school with a smile, never late, never missing an assignment, a club meeting or practice of yours, or a single one of my games. You bore everything on your shoulders alone, often to the detriment of your health. And never once did you complain or let it break you, never once did you allow yourself to show your pain to anyone. I know now, deep down, how much pain you were really in, and you hid it so well. I was completely oblivious to it, selfishly obsessed with my own doubts. Y/n, you are my definition of strength.

“Tooru,” Y/n whispered, no longer able to hold back his tears.

“And you know what. It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It’s okay to let it out. That doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been my pillar so often, will you finally let your walls down with me?”

Y/n couldn’t hold it in anymore. He fell into Tooru’s chest sobbing. His unresolved emotions from his mother’s death, the stress from his deteriorating finances, even the anger he never really dealt with resolving Tooru, all of them came flooding to the surface. And, of course, the love he still felt and buried deep beneath his skin. He allowed it all to overwhelm him finally. He could deal with it as long as Tooru was there.

Tooru held him, so gently, understanding that, despite how strong his love was, he was brittle and wounded, and whatever he needed, Tooru would provide. So he held him close and gentle as a babe and let Y/n cry it out. He rubbed his back when Y/n muttered, “I needed you, and you were never there.” Tooru understood. Part of this was because of him, because he failed to see how much pain Y/n was in during their third year.

“It’s okay, you can be vulnerable with me. I’ll never see you as any less.” Tooru whispered. “You can be as strong as you want, or as weak as you need to be Y/n, I’ll always be here. Just please, stop numbing yourself.”

They laid together until Y/n stopped crying. And then, as Y/n didn’t pull away, or talk, only snuggled closer to Tooru, he held him tighter. Together they remained in each other's arms until the early morning hours.

Tooru smiled, looking down at Y/n who had fallen asleep in his arms. He was tired. Mentally drained. Tooru would be whatever Y/n needed to be. And he’d wait, however long it took, for Y/n to forgive him and return to this permanently. He stayed awake the entire time, running his hand slowly through Y/’s blonde locks. He continued to caress him until Y/n shook awake. It was nearly two a.m.

“Tooru…” Y/n yawned, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes, “what time is it?” “Two a.m.”

“What!?” Y/n pulled away from him and Tooru freely let him pull away, already missing his warmth. “I thought I was just dozing off for a few minutes.”

“Oh, you dozed straight to sleep.” Tooru laughed

“Sorry,” Y/n said, turning away, “About this...I,”

Tooru interrupted him before he could go any further, “Again, it’s okay. I’ll be what you need me to be, and nothing more until you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, sitting up straight, “We need to talk,”

“You ready?”

“Yea. About us.”

Tooru waited for Y/n to continue, but he went quiet. “What about us?”

“I don’t want to wait. For you. For you to finish with volleyball. To have room in your heart.”

“Y/n,” Tooru sighed, fear rising in his chest, afraid that Y/n was going to ask him to give up volleyball, to give him the ultimatum he always feared. He couldn’t choose between them, “I’m not going to stop my career,”

“I know. I don’t want you to. But I can’t wait either. I want more.”

“More?”

“I want to try again. With you. Us. I don’t want to wait. I can’t,” Y/n said, “So, is your offer still on the table?” “...you’re sure?” Tooru whispered, hoping that he wasn’t asleep on his couch, that this wasn’t just another nightmare meant to torture him.

“I am. I need to know. Ever since we met at New Years, everything came to a head. Realize I was drowning myself in my work, using it as an excuse to ignore everything else. I did that in college too. I’ve ignored the feelings of my mothers death, my dream, and you. But when you showed up…I can’t do it anymore. But I need to know. I want more. Is there any way we can work? Yes or no, I need to know before I move on. That’s why I’m here.

“You aren’t kidding right?”

“No. So, is your offer still open?”

“Yes!” Tooru yelled, pulling Y/n into another crushing bear hug and pulling Y/n down onto the couch on top of him. “Of course my offer is open. And I want nothing more than for us to work. But I can’t be here all the time either,”

Y/n looked away, fearful for just a moment,

“But, that said, if you give me the chance, I will do everything I can to make you feel loved, to be your pillar, to hold you when you need to be vulnerable. I won’t abandon you like before. I’m stronger now. I’ve learned to balance volleyball and the rest of my life. I can make this work. I promise.”

Y/n smiled. “Then maybe, maybe I’ll be alright,”

“Can I kiss you?” Tooru asked.

“Yes.”

Tooru flipped Y/n over so his back was on the couch, Tooru looming over him. He cupped Y/n’s cheeks, pulling them in together, locking their lips. And Y/n’s fears, his pain, they weren’t gone, it didn’t vanish in a puff of smoke like a fairy tale, but with Tooru he knew he could be weak. He could allow himself to feel again. With Tooru, he knew he just might be okay.

As their lips parted, Y/n felt Tooru pick him up and carry them to his bedroom.

“You’re tired,” he said, gently placing Y/n on the bed and pulling the covers over them. “Rest now. We’ll get the details tomorrow. Sleep my darling, sleep.” Tooru pulled Y/n in close, head to his chest, and together they fell asleep in each other's arms.

“Y/n, don’t go! Not now! Please,” Tooru whined as Y/n tried to make his way to the airport security.

“Tooru, I left d/n with Iwaizumi. I imagine he’s sick of the animal. Plus, I still have to wrap up a bunch of things before I can move.”

“But we just got together n/n,” Tooru whined, pulling Y/n in for a kiss, asking for entrance with his tongue, which Y/n denied.

“Not here. At home. When I return. Then you can have all you want,” Y/n teased

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“But what if I don’t want to wait?”

“It’ll be a few weeks still. I’ll come back and then we can have some fun,” Y/n said, teasing, moving to whisper in Tooru’s ear, “Then we can figure out whatever citizenship work we need to do if we decide this works.”

“Fine, fine. Just a couple of weeks. And call me every day!” Tooru whined, reluctantly letting go of Y/n.

“I love you Tooru,” Y/n said, as he moved away to get through security.

“I love you too Y/n.”

One year later:

Oikawa’s serve blasted into the back corner of the opponent’s court. The libero dove for it, making contact, but the ball went spinning out of control, well out of reach of any of the opposing team members. The set came to an end, 25-19. There was only one set left.

Y/n cheered for his boyfriend before looking back down at his notebook. He had promised not to work today, but he snuck in some of his art without Tooru noticing. He was working on his own manga. He had yet to get anything officially off the ground. Most of his work had been denied, but he knew that in the writing business, that is the norm more often than not. It was okay. He would continue to work until he made that dream a reality. As for his animation, he still worked from home in their shared apartment, but had lightened his workload. And in a lucky break, one of his supervisors left and recommended him as her replacement. He now almost made something resembling a liveable wage.

He was lost in his art. He knew that Tooru would be meeting with his team between the sets and could sneak in a bit of editing and drawing. Despite being in the front, right behind the bench, he was sure he’d be safe from Tooru’s eyes. But he was so absorbed in his art, he didn’t notice when Tooru came striding up to him, hands on his hips glaring at the artwork.

“You were supposed to be taking a day off, Y/n,”

Y/n jumped, and slowly closed his sketchbook, trying to hide it beneath the chair, “What do you mean Tooru, I am” he smiled, pretending to be innocent.

Tooru sighed, “You’re as hopeless as I am. Come on,” he said, grabbing Y/n’s arm and pulling him onto the court behind the bench.

“Tooru, what are you doing, the fifth set is about to start!”

“Don’t worry, both teams agreed to a short disruption, come on,” Tooru said, pulling him onto the court.

“Tooru, why are we on the court?” Y/n asked, blushing, unused to being in the spotlight with crowds staring down at them, many as confused as him.

“Look up.”

Y/n followed Tooru’s finger up to the screens above the court. Usually showing the game on the court, or replays, the screens now read the words, “Will you marry me, Y/n?”

Y/n turned to glare at Tooru, “Really. You are proposing to me during the middle of a volleyball game.” “Yes. I wanted to show you that I love you just as much as I love volleyball,” Tooru said, “Maybe a little bit more even,” Y/n sighed, “You know, this is a low move. I almost have to say yes, with everyone watching.”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru whispered, “Are you really that uncomfortable?”

“You’re lucky you already knew I was going to say yes,” Y/n muttered, knowing they had discussed the possibility in detail over the past month or so. Y/n shook his head and pulled Tooru in a kiss on the middle of the volleyball court. “Does that answer your question?”

Tooru pulled Y/n into another hug, leading him back to the bench as the crowds cheered. Y/n watched from the bench as the fifth set continued forward. He still wasn’t where he wanted to be yet, but Y/n knew that he and Tooru were going to be alright. He would let Tooru help rebuild him. He could make it through anything as long as he had his husband by his side.

Here’s the ending. Not sure I like it, but it’s what came out. Again, sorry it’s so long. Too all those who distract themselves through work. Hope you enjoyed.

#oikawa x male reader #tooru x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #oikawa tooru

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lettrespromises · 4 years ago

Text

PLAN À TROIS.— TODOROKI, BAKUGOU.

A.N:

❝ dear reader,

why hello it is i, nikki, back at it again. this post was specifically written thanks to @sasukelore’s big brain, meaning that this one is for the boys with the booming system, top down, AC with the cooler system😔✊🏻. it’s my first attempt at writing smut (which means it’s a direct ticket to hell) so please bare with me, i hope you’ll like it! if you have any feedback, please feel free to send it to me! also, my requests are open for business hehe.

sincerely yours,

nikki.

P.S: “plan à trois” has a double meaning— it means “threesome” in french but it also literally means “a plan involving three people” which is the core of the story, both literally and figuratively. ❞

Genre: Smut. (All three of the characters have been aged up.)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drugs (but no actual use of drugs), unprotected sex (please use a condom), nudity, spanking, choking, cunnilingus, blow-job, temperature play, threesome, dirty things.

Word count: 6.5k (she’s a big girl, don’t be shy.)

Letter object: One hotel. One gala. One mission. One person to take down. Three heroes. You and Shoto have to play the perfect fake couple to gain your enemy’s trust, the only thing is, Shoto has no clue how to behave as a couple. The unexpected help comes from Ground Zero who seems a bit too impatient and eager to show Shoto how to really treat a lady.

Metaphorically speaking, the heroes are seen as the predators and the villains as the preys, it’s always been that way— an eternal game of hide and seek, which only ends in binary results, either victory or loss. The latest news concerning the hero world had put this little game to a halt: the hushed rise of the anti-quirks drugs were concerning. The enemy was everywhere and nowhere, it was all whispers, a thread of ‘who said what’, mere illusions replaced authentic clues. The rules of the game had been changed into a paradox where the villains became the predators and the heroes were deemed as the preys.

The rule of silence, which could have easily been personified as the ringleader of this dystopic scenario, was cruel— anyone could be suspected of being a link of the drug chain. But fret not, if you were suspected and voices started to echo around louder and louder, a little bit of hush money was the price to pay to reinstate the rule of silence. Anyone could be a culprit, even (or mostly) into the highest spheres of society. Those who are worshipped in an agnostic way, they were on top of the social food chain and, perhaps even, on top of the drug chain. These elites have been very vocal about their will to suppress the almighty authority pro-heroes possess— feeling threatened for their own sake and their own inferiority complex, they were willing to play dirty to be able to rule the country with an iron fist.

The corrupted elites still remained as elites and enjoyed their mondane occupations— galas being one of them. It was a dream opportunity for you as a pro-hero, a room crowded with highly potential culprits served on a silver plate with a cup of champagne to serve as the cherry on the cake.

Stealth missions were highly dangerous if you didn’t have a cover good enough, and treading on the playground of influential people could possibly cost you your career as a pro-hero, but if you managed to succeed, you were bound to bask in glory. Keeping a realistic cover is the number one check on the list entitled “how not to blow up your whole mission and be hated by the rest of the country.” Luckily enough, your agence had already done all the dirty work for you and sent you everything you needed— a flawlessly cut evening attire, a shockingly well-done fake ID and a full file regarding the background of your character, all down to the tiniest details. And I cannot emphasize enough “all” the details...

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Amongst the myriad of details (and some of them were completely unnecessary, I mean, was your favorite fruit really important?), one of them was impossible to ignore. “Shoto Todoroki, really?” His name rolled off your tongue for a reason, you were supposed to play his pseudo fiancée for the night. Your thumb brushed the surface inked with his name, unconsciously wishing that if you were brushing hard enough, his name would disappear and so would your almost wilted high school crush on him.

Your silent complains were cut short, the sound of someone knocking on your door stirred you from the invasion of your thoughts. Then the knocking sound echoed once more. “Just a second!” Has anyone heard of the concept of patience? Waiting a few seconds for someone to open the door isn’t a inhuman task. Eventually (although it could’ve have been funny to let this mysterious person fume because you purposefully took too long), you opened the door to your hotel room and it just felt like you had welcomed a storm in. Much to your surprise, there were two surprise guests, two U.A alumnis just like you— Shoto and Ground Zero.

“Well, shit, were you planning on letting us fucking die in the hallways, woman?! What the fuck took you so goddamn long, ha?” When I mentioned a storm earlier on today, I meant Bakugou Katuski— his annoyance was transcripted upon his face through the frowning of his eyebrows and the wrinkle sitting between them. “It’s good to see you too Bakugou, glad to see you missed me after all this time.” His hands were shoved in his pockets, clearly not keen on listening to your sarcastic remarks nor wearing a tuxedo for the night. “Tch. Keep your smart ass talk to yourself, dumbass.”

You had indeed let a storm invade your hotel room. But unbeknownst to you, you had also welcomed a hypotizing breeze, the polar opposite of Bakugou, and apparently future fiancé for the night: Shoto Todoroki. His facial expression reflected nothing but pure serinity, a signature stoic face which radically clashed with Bakugo’s scowl. Todoroki was so discreet, almost blending his presence with the newfound silence. He was wearing an evening suit of his own, aquamarine was his color after all, it was a known fact since your high school years.

“Y/N, as you may be aware, I am here for the stealth mission. Bakugou is going to accompany us just in case something goes wrong. It was a last minute change, but considering the household names who are going to attend this gala, too much precaution is better than not enough.” Ohh, so that was the reason why the angry gremlin was here. Although, you wondered how Shoto felt about the two of you acting as a fake engaged couple, was he still serene about that? “Yeah, while you two fake lovebirds will be busy eating each other’s faces off, I’m gonna be around to check if there is any intell on these anti-quirk selling bastards.” Each of his word was accompanied by a hand gesture pivoting between you and Shoto and, of course, the same old look of annoyance plastered upon his face. You and Shoto, on the other one hand, appeared a bit surprised at the use of “fake lovebirds”, it just hasn’t sunk in yet... Denial, perhaps?

“Speaking of kissing and shit— you, half and half bastard, do you still have a fucking stick up your ass or do you know how to act in a relationship?!” His interrogation was accompanied with a daring glance thrown in Todoroki’s direction and an eyebrow lifted just to emphasize the characteristic of his question a bit more. A bold question which immediately found its answer from the mouth of Todoroki, needless to say, you felt this remark coming. “Bakugou, you’re the last person here who could pretend having the knowledge necessary to provide relationship advices.” You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape at Todoroki’s remark highlighted by its bluntness, although you quickly changed your mind once you felt Bakugou’s stare landing on you with such rage causing you to hush your laugh by biting your thumb.

“Ha?! What the fuck did you just say, half and half bastard? Use that fucking mouth for yours for good measure and let’s see if you can kiss Y/N correctly. I won’t let this mission be blown up by your stupid ass.” This time, there was a hint of amusement in Bakugou’s voice, it was hard to distinct if he asked that because he truly cared about the mission or if he just wanted to push Todoroki out of his comfort zone. But the ghost of a smirk drawn upon his face seemed to support the second hypothesis.

“Guys, just a second here. I understand why we have to take care of our cover but it’s not like Todoroki and I are going to kiss all night long.” Your gaze alterned between Todoroki and Bakugou, it became impossible to hold your gaze on a fix structure due to how flustered you felt, and soon enough, your cheeks were quick to adopt a rosy tone. “Y/N, are you scared of kissing me by any chance?” You secretly hated the obvious tone of concern in Todoroki’s voice, he was willing to do anything to make this mission a success but also make sure you were comfortable around him. “N-No! It’s just… I don’t mind it.” What a miracle, you finally managed to look at him in the eyes but the blush on your cheeks was as lively as ever. “Then damn, if you don’t mind it just fucking kiss already we don’t have all night, dumbass.” You could tell by Bakugou’s body language that he was growing more and more impatient by the second, his arms were crossed over his chest— he was getting pissed.

Todoroki captured your attention once more when his index brushed the surface of your skin right below your chin while his thumb was carefully set upon your jawline. His orbs shone by their gleam of reassureance, his eyes met yours, as a silent way to ask your for permission and you fluttered your lids shut as an answer. As if it was some kind of second nature to him, his other arm compassed your waist in order to bring you close to him. His lips finally touched yours. Each one of his actions was so soft, you could barely feel them yet, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips were melting ever so perfectly with yours, as if your lips were the sole one which could fit is, you couldn’t help but to hum as the carefulness of his lips overwhelmed you. The kiss was shy, experimental, and yet so agonizing. He was temptingly and agonizingly slow, which only made you crave for more. However, given the lack of oxygen, you had no choice but to (relanctutly) break the kiss. You opened your eyes and basked in Todoroki’s beauty, still in awe at what just happ—… “Oi! Have you ever kissed anyone before, Icyhot? Fucking hell, what was that?!”

Of course this was bound to be expected— the angry gremlin in his natural behavior. You and Todoroki exchanged a look which held a thousand questions before you felt your wrist being caught by a much warmer palm, and eventually, you were yanked straight into Bakugou’s chest (not that you were complaining.) “Open your damn eyes and look, this how you fucking kiss a woman, dipshit.” The sound of his voice roaring against your eardrum made you flinch in the nicest way possible. Bakugou naturally made himself at ease all while maintaining his gaze upon Todoroki who was looking at him in return with a noticeable disdain in his eyes.

Bakugou was challenging him in a way, he perfectly knew that Todoroki was observing his every move, hence why he took the liberty to let his palm roam over the curve of your derrière as a way to taunt him. However, the taunt didn’t last too long not to make you feel uncomfortable. He quickly settled one of his hand on the small of your back (to maintain you as close to him as humanly possible) whilst his other hand was set upon your neck. He didn’t waste any more time and went straight to business.

Bakugou’s kiss was, as expected, a vivid contrast compared to Todoroki’s kiss. While Todoroki’s felt hesitant, caring, sweet… Bakugou’s kiss was rough around the edges and his sole purpose was to make your knees weak. Once he crashed his lips upon yours, he immediately swiped his tongue over the surface of your bottom lip, demanding immediate access to your mouth. You knew better than to upset Bakugou so you pleased and allowed his tongue to explore your mouth— your tongue was at his mercy for a few instants before finding a steady rhythm for you two. His presence was overwhelming— his smell, how close you were to him with nowhere to escape, his mouth, his tongue, everything caused you to rightfully let a moan escape into the kiss. At the sound of it, Todoroki’s eyes widened while Bakugou smirked into the kiss, he knew he made a point. You, in return, started to tug at his blonde hair— the rough atmosphere of the kiss affected your actions as well. Just prior to breaking the kiss, Bakugou’s teeth dug into your bottom lip and applied a few pressures while you were looking at him with pleading eyes to continue. Once he got what we wanted, he ended the kiss with a surprisingly soft peck upon your lips.

With his hand still settled on the small of your back, Bakugou turned to Todoroki’s direction and offered him his biggest smirk to show his secret victory. You were left breathless by the kiss, a series of uneven hot breaths crashed down onto Bakugou’s skin.

If anyone were to walk in your hotel room, they would be able to feel and even touch the graduating tension in the air which almost felt agonizing. The tension was mostly radiating off of the two men, a silent battle for dominance had been declared through glances, holders of pure will to outbest the other.

Todoroki observed the scene on his chair, and unbeknownst to him, Bakugou had indirectly offered him the best seat in the room to watch the manifestation of his talents. An almost inaudible sigh left Todoroki’s lips which translated into a sign of discontentment. “Y/N, come here.” The tone was strict, cold even, and you felt obligated to do as told.

Detaching yourself from Bakugou’s embrace (you could tell he didn’t want to let you go judging from how his palm lingered on your back), you stepped away and made your way to Todoroki, a quizzical look noticeable in the reflect of your eyes. “What now?” You asked. Todoroki gestured to his lap and you knew what it meant, it was a speech without any word necessary.

Paradoxically enough, Bakugou stared at the scenery in front of him in pure silence, and although it was very unlike him, he was mimicking Todoroki’s actions earlier on- he wanted to witness how Shoto was going to respond to his own deeds.

You placed your hands over Todoroki’s shoulders to gain stability before sitting on his lap, it was a foreign feeling, but goodness, it was already addicting as hell and you were not interested in finding a cure. Both of Shoto’s hands crawled on the same spot where Bakugou’s hands used to linger just a few moments ago, you understood rather quickly that he was using his own methods against him. You were the center of Todoroki’s attention, his gaze graced your frame and he was loving the sound of your uneven breath, he wondered if he could make your respiration even more irregular.

He paid no mind to mind to the silent Bakugou who was already fuming in his corner as Shoto delivered a succession of pecks on the delicate flesh of your neck, and you tilted your head just enough to let him play on a wider surface. He traded the pecks for a few daring bites on certain areas, he needed to find your weak spot. “A-Ah... Shoto!” the sound of his name rolling off your tongue coated in such bliss was enough for him to curve his lips into a smirk.

It was a brief moment of peace before he dug his teeth on the same spot and you failed to prevent any whimpers from coming out by biting your lower lip. He knew you were restricting yourself, prisoning these beautiful sounds of ecstasy, and he didn’t like any of it. He focused on your lower lip and rubbed the oh so soft surface with the pad of his thumb to prevent your from biting it, and thus, keeping your sounds of pleasure to yourself.

“Don’t be shy, love. I’m pretty sure both Bakugou and I can agree on the fact that the little sounds you’re making are too divine to be hushed. Will you be a good girl and let us hear the sounds you’re making?” It was as if his voice was coated with honey, just his voice alone was enough to make you feel weak, and if you paid enough attention, you were pretty sure he purposefully blew a fit of cold air onto the skin of your neck. “Yes, please... I’ll be good, so good.” From that moment you knew you were at his mercy and he enjoyed every second of it. “You’re such a good girl for us.”

And so he continued, but it was rougher this time, a harsh contrast compared to his hesitant kiss from just a few moments ago. His teeth dug into the flesh of your skin harder this time, the sole purpose of leaving a mark on your crimson colored flesh was haunting his mind. To accomplish said purpose, Todoroki alternated between biting motions and a few swipes of his tongue on the newly bruised skin. The whimpers coming out of your mouth shamelessly only added fuel to his fire. He knew what he was doing, and you knew just how sensitive this particular area could get.

Once he judged it was enough, he delivered a few pecks on the love bites, a way to kiss his art into your skin. “You’re so perfect, love, so perfect with my name written over your skin.” He whispered between kisses. Your head was thrown back, fingers grasping at the roots of his hair, your mouth agape- your whole body language testified of the addictive effect he had on you.

Such bliss couldn’t last for long, and quickly enough, another voice was being heard, a roar even. “Oi, oi, oi! Don’t even think for a single fucking second that you can have her all to yourself, half and half bastard.” It was almost a miracle that Bakugou had observed you in silence, but as expected, patience was nowhere near his forte. He had already crossed his limit long before you sat on Todoroki’s laps. Bakugou’s eyes were strictly focused on your frame, he was completely under your spell after observing how your chest would rise and fall unevenly to grasp any ounce of oxygen.

Your knees felt weak already, you could only stare at Bakugou and silently ask him to continue, to make you feel even weaker, to make you experience pure bliss. You wanted to say his name, it was right on the tip of your tongue, but as you observed his figure reducing more and more the space between the two of you, you just admired him in silence.

“Hah? What’re you looking at, brat? You want more? Is that it? You want fucking more? Say no more.” You should’ve known that the wicked smirk plastered upon his face was a pre-indicator of what was bound to happen. He lifted you off of Todoroki’s lap, the latter frowned a bit at the lack of your presence on him, and carried you to the bed before dropping you on the mattress. Todoroki was quick to follow from behind and stood right next to Bakugou, his hands already busy taking off his jacket and unbuttoning the first button of his evening shirt. “I’m sure that Bakugou and I can find a little agreement. After all, we can share, correct?” Todoroki’s rhetorical question found its answer once Bakugou let a discreet chuckle escape from his mouth after throwing his jacket God knows where and messily undoing his tie. “We’re gonna take real fucking good take care of you, baby girl.”

You were refraining yourself from already touching you, it took all the strength in the world not to give in to the most passionate temptations. But deep down, you already knew you were bound to be overwhelmed by pure bliss judging by how they were looking at you. You could only hum in response, unsure of how your voice would have sounded under the heavy influence of desire.

Bakugou made the first move, after all, his poor soul felt left alone when Todoroki overwhelmed you with pecks and bites. He crawled over you, his knees were on each side of your waist, his hands however, assured total domination- his right hand clutched your wrists now pinned above your hand while his left palm settled by force on your throat, needless to say, the pressure was already applied on your windpipe. “You wanna’ play that game with me, hah?! Let Icyhot have all of you to himself and I got fucking nothing in return? Babygirl, I don’t watch, I fucking play.” It was too ferocious to be qualified as a whisper, and yet, when Bakugou pronounced the last bits of his sentence right in the shell of your ear, you felt like you were floating in pure bliss. “Answer me.” His grip on your throat felt a bit tighter. “P-Please... Ju-Just do whatever you want... With my body.” The lack of oxygen felt agonizing, you were deprived of fresh air and you were laying on the bed while Bakugou exuded pure confidence and domination, an aura so thick, you wished you could’ve touched it. “That’s my babygirl.”

As Bakugou’s lips crashed onto yours, forcing its tongue into your mouth while maintaining the right amount of pressure on your throat to offer you a panorama of new sensations, Todoroki had already gotten rid of his shirt. If you paid close attention, you could see shy flames on his shoulders, he was absolutely adoring the scenery unfolding before him. Everything about you filled his senses, the sight of you giving in to Bakugou was nothing short of divine, the whimpers leaving your mouth in cascade whether the reason was the lack of air or the fierceness of Bakugou’s intentions was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Everything was perfect.

You felt the oxygen become one with your body again once Bakugou broke the kiss and allowed his hand to travel from your neck down to your chest, but his eyes were never leaving yours. He wanted to watch you come undone under his touch, he swore it to himself.

“I’ll take the bottom half. Icyhot, I don’t give a damn about what you do, just don’t fucking interrupt me.” His eyes were already set on the prize, your heat in all its glory. Shoto said nothing in response, you were the holder of all his undivided attention. As Bakugou took a firm grasp of your thighs, opening the way to his newfound purpose, Todoroki took over the top half of your body- he started by planting a succession of pecks from your lips down to your collarbone, passing by your neck, and each kiss was amplified by the cold air he was blowing on the surface of your skin. The contrast in temperature cause you to allow a few whimpers to escape, you already knew you craved for more, it was a way of manifesting it.

“You won’t need that, will you, love?” He said while pointing at your shirt, as his index was already hooking the fabric. It was a rhetorical question of course, you simply answered by humming. Your silent response was the only thing necessary for Shoto to send your shirt flying somewhere in the room. He continued his trail of kisses down to the valley of your breasts, the same cold air following him as he went.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, had already gotten rid off your skirt, but not before letting his palms explore the generous cheeks hidden underneath it, and eventually, leaving a slap right on this area which caused you to yelp in surprise. The pad of his thumb was already brushing against the surface of the fabric, oh what a pleasure it was when he felt the sensation of humidity coming through your underwear. A sensation so good, so addicting, so divine that it brought a sly grin to his face. “Already so wet for us, babygirl? You’re not wasting your damn time, hah?” Your skin was burning under his touch, you could already feel the chills running down your spine and he hadn’t even taken off your underwear yet.

Todoroki took the strap of your bra between his thumb and index, and much to your suprise, he used the right amount of his quirk to burn the fabric and applied the same treatment to the other strap. Before you could even protest about the poor outcome of your bra, he planted his lips on your own to keep you quiet. Now, he focused his attention to your breasts and the bits of clothing left which prevented the upper half of your body from being fully exposed. He took the opportunity given by Bakugou who had gotten rid of your underwear which made you arch your back to unclip your bra. There was nothing stopping him now. He let his gaze fell on you, so full of adoration, while he leaned down and caught the last piece of fabric remaining of your bra between his teeth. His eyes held so much envy, so much desires which reciprocated in the reflect of your own orbs.

Shoto threw your bra out of his mouth, and there you were- your body bare in all its glory. “Fuck, you’re so perfect...” He whispered right against your chest, causing you to let out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. He used his mother’s inherited side to trace the contour of your breasts, he knew he was going to earn a moan in return and he was so please to hear such a sinful melody at the clash of his cold fingers against your burning skin. His thumb and his index worked in harmony to twist the bud of your nipple and overwhelm it by Shoto’s cold touch while his tongue delivering hot saliva on your skin was already doing wonders on your other breast, a perfect balance between cold and hot which made your arousal erupt even more and someone was quick to notice...

“Oi, doll face, focus on me, not on this goddamn fucker. Don’t you feel so fucking good when I touch you like that, hah?” His burning jealousy amplified the voracity of his deeds. Every single one of his touch served the purpose of pleasuring you, but also outdo Todoroki’s touches. He needed to be the best at everything, including making you melt under his touch. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the desire to close your eyes and let your body attract all the attention while basking in pure bliss was too strong and yet, Bakugou’s voice roared into your mind, you couldn’t help but lay your eyes on him through half-closed lids.

Once he knew he was the bearer of all your attention, he put his body and mind to work. Both of his hands planted your thighs on each side of his body, you felt too weak to move under his touch and did not dare resist the pressure. You whined in advance because you knew what was coming- and boy, did he look good with his face buried between your thighs.

One long, sharp, vertical lick was all it took to let yet another moan escape your lips once more, and to Bakugou, it was the best reward. The heat of his tongue responded to the heat of your core, it was pure harmony. He licked the your core over and over again, tasting you, loving you, worshipping you even. One time he left lingering kisses to the side of your core, another time he was left licking motions all over your folds because your taste was the best thing he had ever felt. His motions echoed to your whines and moans, he was sure of hearing a sinful melody each time his tongue entered in contact with your skin.

“Keep making these noises for me, don’t be fucking shy.” His hot breath on the center of your heat embraced perfectly the succession of his actions, “Y-Yes... P-Please, I want... I need more.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let a low chuckle leave his lips, in response to your needy attitude, he left a harsh slap on the surface of your butt, to which you whined loudly in response. “Such a fucking filthy mouth you have there, hah?” He smiled to himself, knowing perfectly that what he was about to do was bound to leave you as a whimpering mess. Without any warning, he slid two of his fingers inside your core, and fuck, you were tight. His thumb was brushing against your sweet bundle of nerves which had already been cherished by Bakugou’s tongue earlier.

You clutched the sheets of the bed to release some of the buildup pressure inside, it was as if a tornado, a volcano and a firework were exploding at the same time in your stomach, each of them resulting in a series of whimpers and moans at the overstimulation. Your lids were shut close already, yet, they kept fluttering over the invisible crimson touches left by both Todoroki and Bakugou.

Speaking over Todoroki, he was tasting you in such a different way as he started to get the grip of Bakugou’s mechanic. His mind kept roaming and roaming, he knew that just one mark on your neck was not quite enough and he needed to beat Bakugou at his own game- he positioned himself right over your right breast and blew a fit of fresh air, causing him to smile at himself for being the reason of such a reaction, and dug his teeth into your flesh. Motivated by the the way you kept tugging at his hair, he kept biting the same area over and over again until sucking your flesh just enough to create yet another love bite over your breast, such an intimate area, isn’t it? And now his whole name was written on it.

“B-Bakugou... I can’t take it... Ahh! Anymore, please, please...” His fingers weren’t enough anymore, you were pleading his name, begging him to become one with you because you were unsure as to how you were going to keep the unleashed pressure within you ruin you. “So eager for my fucking cock, aren’t you?! You’re gonna count with me each inch entering your fucking cunt, got it?” You were willing to do anything at this point- Todoroki’s bites and his cold touch, Bakugou’s fingers and tongue, it made you fill dizzy but you knew, deep down, you were slowly approaching a pure state of bliss. “Yes... Yes I will.”

For his own purpose, Bakugou took his fingers off your core and flipped you on your stomach so you could be on all fours. You were giving him the view of worthy of a masterpiece: the crimson colored marks on your butt cheeks, the vivid rosy tone of your dripping core, oh he wanted all of you. “Love, don’t you forget that I’m here too, right? Open your pretty mouth for me.” You did as Todoroki preached, opening your mouth for him to stick his index in there. “Suck.” he commanded, to which you obliged by creating hollows in your cheeks and embrace his finger around your tongue, this feeling was beyond perfect, beyond the wildest fantasies his imagination had to offer. He could only let his subconsciousness roam about how his cock would feel around your perfectly pouted lips.

Bakugou’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers turning white in the process while your flesh adopted a reddish tone in response. With the use of the pad of his thumb, he spread the pre-cum leaking all over his length, and so it began: the first inch. “One.”, it sounded more like an order than a statement, “...One.” you echoed, your response didn’t come quick enough to Bakugou’s liking, making you earn a harsh slap on your cheeks in return. Then another inch “Two.” , another faint sound coming from your lips “T-Two...”, yet another slap on your abused flesh. And so it went on, the process remained the same- another inch, another whisper escaping your mouth between sobs, another spank.

On the other side of the bed, Todoroki was stroking his own length at the sight before him. You were on the brim of tears, and Bakugou didn’t show any mercy regarding your current state. “I’m sorry, her mouth is going to be full soon, she won’t have room to count out for you.” Bakugou grunted in response to Todoroki’s taunt. His strokes became gradually faster, like a crescendo if you will. His other hand, however, was placed right underneath your jaw to give you some support and your mouth was already open in anticipation for what was bound to happen.

With his hand to keep your jaw steady, you welcomed Todoroki’s lenght into your mouth and he automatically let a groan as the tip of your tongue caressed his sensitive tip. You imagined how rewarding it must have felt for them to hear your own moans and whimpers because hearing Todoroki’s moan felt like a blessing to your eardrums.

Your tongue circled around his cock, your hand was pumping his length, and Todoroki wondered if this is what heaven looked and felt like. Your whimpers were hushed by the presence of his member in your mouth, but somehow, even these half silenced sounds of pleasure sounded even better to his ears. He felt his lids shut close under the miracle work of your tongue while his hand lingered in your hair to motivate you to keep going.

Bakugou, frustrated by this change of plans due to Todoroki’s own personal pleasure, slid the entirety of his phallus into you abruptly. The shock caused you to remove Shoto’s member from your mouth momentarily to catch your breath and release yet another whine before pleasuring Todoroki again. That came as a surprise to no one, not even Shoto himself, but Bakugou’s pace was rough and almost animalistic.

The sound of his testicles clapping against your flesh testified of the pace and yet, it felt so enticing. Bakugou was not so vocal, but he did leave his fair share of grunts as he buried himself into you more and more until reaching your cervix. It was too much, your core was burning, hell your whole body was on fire. The tears that threatened to fall had put their threat to execution, you knew you were close, the overstimulation was getting the best of you leaving you in a whimpering, trembling mess.

You continued to stroke Shoto’s length with your tongue, but his need to take control took over him. The same hand that rested in your hair suddenly took a firm grasp of your hair and he thrusted himself into your mouth and from there, his grunts became more repetitive. Truthfully, it was the only push he needed to bring him over the edge, the previous work of your tongue had put him under a spell. A spell he never wanted to wake up from. He knew what was coming, you felt it too but how the tip of his phallus was tickling your throat deeper and deeper.

Shoto didn’t even notice the small flames making their apparition on the blades of his collarbone, meaning that it was finally time for him to cum. He set your mouth free and hinted his length towards your chest, letting the drips of cum color your skin, and allowed the most magical moan to leave his already parted lips in satisfaction. “Love, look what you fucking did to me. You’re so beautiful, so beautiful with my cum all over you.” Your first instinct was to fill your lungs with oxygen, something so common yet it was cruelly needed. You looked through your lashes at Shoto with pleading eyes while he looked at you with a glimpse of adoration in his. His digit was carefully wiping the excess of cum leaking down your chin to place it right into your mouth. He could only stare in awe at the sight of you tasting him. He felt so full, and fulfilled. He was finally at peace, soaking in pure bliss.

The grasp Bakugou was holding over your hips became even harsher, which you though was impossible just a few seconds before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grunted, trying to keep his volume at bay by digging his teeth into his lower lip but it was all too much to be contained. He knew his climax was close, so close that he could picture it if he closed his eyes just for a second. Bakugou’s name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer, his name had turned into the only thing you were able to say. “I-...Ah! Inside, inside, fuck, please...”, you felt a wave of pleasure taking over your body, a pleasure so intense, no word could have done it justice. Oh well, that was the sole indication he needed to hear before digging his nails into your sides, causing you to arch your back and bite the sheets, already preventing the cascade of whimpers from echoing in the room. “Fucking hell... Cum with me, now.”

With one last thrust, Bakugou came within you, his face was facing the ceiling as he came undone with you. His cum slid within you and in return, your body thanked him by letting your own juice flow all over his length.

Silence invaded the room. No more grunts, no more moans, no more cries. Pure silence inhabited by the uneven breaths of three protagonists who had just touched heaven by the tip of their fingers. Three victims of passion.

Bakugou pulled out of you, earning a whimper in return at the sudden feeling of vacuity. Your legs were shaking, and you secretly thanked every God for allowing you to stay relatively steady on all fours for this long and be able to endure the bestial-like pace of Bakugou. Needless to say, you were panting, you mouth was agape and you were crying for air. Your body immediately crashed onto the mattress, the soft feeling of the sheets enveloping your skin after reaching heaven made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud.

Bakugou and Todoroki shared a look, a small grin even, before crashing down onto the mattress next to you. You were unable to move, your mind was comparable to a wild blur as a result of your orgasm. A rush of words flew through your air but absolutely none of them was powerful and meaningful enough to qualify how you were feeling. At peace? No, not strong enough. Full? Nope, did not carry enough meaning. It was a unique feeling, worthy of all the praises in the world.

Todoroki draped an arm over your waist and left a trail of kisses upon the flesh of your shoulder, a silent way to thank you for allowing him to experience heaven in a rush. Bakugou, on the other one hand, was facing your back and allowed his index to draw invisible patterns on the skin of your back. Paradoxically enough, the silence carried more words and emotions than an actual speech. Until...

“So... Um, about the mission?”

573 notes · View notes

omg-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not (Part 12/15)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Kinda nervous posting again since it’s been a while, but we’re winding down to the end of this story with only three more parts to go (2 chapters + an epilogue). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy!

Part 11

Home.

You are home. It’s supposed to be home.

But it wasn’t. To you, it couldn’t be.

This place feels too far from home, too foreign. You had no memories of it, no recollection of the safety and security it offers. Not even the faintest remembrance of the laughter, smiles, and tears; the fondness and the sadness these four walls have witnessed over the years.

You can’t call it home. You don’t know where home is, and you’re not sure you have one anymore.

Not after leaving him behind.

It’s cold and dark when you first wake, sleep weighing heavily in your eyes. A pair of curtains block out the sun from filtering into the room, leaving you to wonder if you had slept through half the day. With a yawn, you stretch, the bed underneath creaking as your body fully rouses from yet another night of fitful slumber. Almost a month back in New York, and it doesn’t make sense to keep blaming your lack of energy on the time difference.

The ache is still ever-present. The pain caused by the void in your heart remains, sharply throbbing in your chest with its refusal to go away. Two heartbreaks, two betrayals, occurring five years apart, but it feels as though not much time has passed in-between.

It hurts to ponder about it, that evening when your seemingly perfect little world came crashing down. Hiding behind rose-tinted glasses, you were unknowingly tricked, fully caught up in a well-crafted illusion. His illusion. Love has blinded you to the sad reality, and in the end, it left you a shattered mess, a hollow shell of your former self.

You doubt you’ll ever be whole again.

Forcing yourself out from under the covers, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before scrolling through your notifications. Nothing was of interest to you, fortunately; you didn’t have the energy to respond to those you suddenly abandoned. Friends who cared about you but realized you were never close to them. Not in the way it used to be.

As you skimmed over the new texts and emails, you then came across his now unsaved number. The moment you stepped on the plane, you deleted his contact from your phone and blocked him. Yet the last messages he sent to you were still there and haven’t been read since, though you already knew what they could entail—

I’m sorry.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Please give me another chance.

Let me fix this.

Just come back, Y/N. Come back home.

Home. There was that damn word again. You were beginning to loathe it, even more so knowing that whenever you think of home, you wind up thinking of him.

The last time you saw him was the morning after the storm. Booking a one-way ticket back to the east coast, you then spent the early hours packing as many clothes that would fit in a single suitcase. Tears had long since dried up, having none left as you headed down the stairs, ignoring the look he gave you from afar.

He was dressed in the outfit he had on the night prior; his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and it was quite obvious he endured no sleep. Your resolve nearly crumbles as your gazes connect, bodies close enough that he could reach out the slightest bit, and he’d be holding your hand in the palm of his.

Fighting the urge, you didn’t cave in. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for it—for him.

No, never again.

As expected, he followed you out of the house, remaining quiet as he watched the cab driver load your luggage in the trunk. You paid him no attention when he approached the vehicle once you climbed in, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. With nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, you decided it was best to leave California, not that you belonged there anyway.

It played out like a scene from a movie—the taxi pulling out of the driveway slowly as the raindrops started to fall. Hearing him call out your name, his voice cracking with each syllable, made you hesitate for a beat. Perhaps you could forgive him, you had thought in that split-second. Forgive and forget; let what happened in the past stay in the past.

But even if you did, the pain’s still there, and it was overpowering. This pain resulting from his deception had been too consuming, too unbearable to move on.

You told the driver to hurry as you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.

The atmosphere in the car was fraught with grim silence. As the house sequestered in the hills vanishes in the rearview mirror, you knew you were running away from it all. You couldn’t stand being here in LA, where every turn, every corner, and every street reminds you of a life that wasn’t truly yours.

As idyllic it once was, you wanted no part of it anymore. Instead, you sought for familiarity, the life you used to have, the one you could only remember.

What you thought was your real home.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you had broken down in the backseat, never feeling more alone than you did at that moment.

You wish you could forget, but it’s not that easy. It’s never easy. Memories of him linger in your mind, still tragically fresh as they haunt you day in and day out. Closing your eyes, you could see him wearing this smile that used to make your stomach flutter. You came to love his smile the same way you had loved him wholly.

Now? Seeing it was a stab to the heart—a reminder of how he took advantage of your condition, your vulnerability. Of every lie you were fed. That smile, the one you previously hoped to wake up to for the rest of your life, had been an act, a facade.

Everything had been a facade.

A sudden knock on the door startles you, and you clicked off the phone screen before announcing to whoever that they could come in. Your mother Nancy enters soon after, her face displaying concern when she realizes you had just woken up. She’s silent as she walks towards the window and then pushes the curtains aside, the sunlight outside immediately washing over the room.

Briefly, you squint to adjust to the brightness, a confirmation that it was past noon already—another wasted day.

“Hey, darling,” she speaks softly as she moves to sit on the mattress beside you. “How are you doing?”

There’s no point in lying, but as much as you greatly appreciated her caringness, you didn’t want to burden her with your problems. They were yours to deal with and yours alone.

“Better.” And that, you were. Just a week ago, you finally stopped crying yourself to sleep. “I might even go out tomorrow and look for a job. Can’t keep freeloading under your roof, right?”

You release a half-chuckle, a small attempt to lighten up the mood. It was comforting when your mother cracks a smile in response.

“Oh, hush. You’re always welcome to stay as long as you need to,” she assures, a loving warmth radiating from her tone.

Lips pressing together, you sense that she has another thing to address. “What’s wrong?”

Nancy pauses to take a breath, shoulders rising and falling. For some reason, you’re on edge, finding yourself bracing for what was to come.

“Have you spoken to Keanu lately?”

Upon hearing his name, you swallowed away the lump in your throat. After telling your parents what had transpired, it stirred up various emotions—mainly anger from your father, sorrow from your mom. Their hearts sank as you recounted the story, tears blurring your eyes that you couldn’t see their faces. It was a good thing, however; you probably wouldn’t have reached the end.

Since then, they’ve refrained from speaking of him and to him. He’s called the house on a few occasions but could never get past the automated answering machine. Pictures of the two of you hanging on the walls were taken down shortly after the revelation, and you were unsure of who had done it.

Your parents still couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He had played them the same way you were, twisting the truth and omitting facts. Painting himself in a way that made them think allowing you to stay with him was the best decision when just months before he treated you as if you didn’t matter.

As if he didn’t love you.

“No.” Curt, you had nothing else to say.

“He’s a persistent one, I’ll tell you that. Left another message last night,” Nancy comments, feeling her stare as you fiddled with the hands in your lap. The next time she speaks, it’s slow and controlled. She’s careful with her words, wary of how you would react to what she has to say. “Hon, the last time you were here, you told me something. Something that I probably should have mentioned the day you woke up in the hospital.”

You tense, eyes flickering up to hers. “What is it?”

She sighs deeply, her smile fleeting and replaced by a taut frown. “I knew you and Keanu were having… problems. Not the full story, but enough that told me you’ve been unhappy for a while.”

“W-Why didn’t you bring this up then?”

“Because the second I saw him in your hospital room, I could see how much he loves you. How scared he was at the thought of nearly losing you—”

“Pfft, sure he was,” you scoff at the statement in disbelief. “What he did—you don’t do that to someone you love. You don’t lie to them, betray them. Hell, if you had given me a heads up earlier, then it would have saved me all this trouble.”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you get it? He’s an actor. Of course, he’s good at playing pretend. Got us all believing that things were all sunshine and rainbows. He fucked up and fucked up even more by lying. I’ve always had a bad track record in relationships, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.”

Tension hangs thickly in the air, an apology murmured at the end of a passing second. You didn’t mean to snap at your mother, to let the anger and betrayal consume you that you began taking it out on others although unwillingly.

But you were just too goddamn hurt. Every day, the memories are suffocating you despite constantly wishing and pleading for them to disappear. That life, the one you had with Keanu, no longer exists, and yet you were still holding onto the frayed remains of it, not ready to move on—to let go.

You grieve. You grieve and mourn for the recent past, the happiness and love you experienced in the time you were left unaware. Never have you felt so complete, so content, and much at ease. You had turned a blind eye to the signs, to the small inklings of doubt brewing inside because you thought that there was no way you could get something else as close to this.

Perhaps you were both to blame after all.

“I thought he was different,” you whisper, sorrow flowing from your words. “I thought he was the one. The man I’d settle down with, marry, and then maybe someday, be the father of my kids. We’d build an entire life together, a family, a future. The kind of life where I could look back on it fifty years from now when we’re old and gray and not regret a single thing.”

Feeling your mother’s hand come on top of yours with a light squeeze, you fought off the tears forcing their way from your eyes. You swore you would never shed a tear for Keanu ever again, but you are crumbling from within. The weak walls you put up are now tumbling down, leaving you even more vulnerable than before.

“I want to hate him. I want him to feel my pain and suffer through it, knowing that he’s the reason why. But I can’t. Somehow, I just can’t.”

“It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him,” Nancy adds solemnly, and you nod shakily. “You’re healing, dear. So far, all you’ve done is put on a bandaid, but it doesn’t mean the wound closes up immediately. It’ll burn, it’ll bleed, and it’ll ache, and right now, that’s what you’re feeling; the pain of a fresh open wound.”

“Make the pain stop,” you mumbled incoherently as you lean against your mom’s side, wet cheeks pressed to her shoulder. “It has to stop.”

“And it will,” she promises, listening to your soft and tired cries. “It’ll take time for the wound to heal, but eventually, it will. Until then, life continues, and you would have to as well. You don’t have to go all-in right away, but don’t let this heartbreak hinder you from living, sweetie. You’re strong, and I believe you will feel that same happiness again, in one form or another. But you won’t find it unless you go out and look for it.”

For the first time in what seemed like a while, you felt something other than loss and despair. It creeps into you slowly, half-expecting a cold, crushing weight to fall heavily on your chest rather than the warmth and light it is. But as quickly as it came, the sensation subsides, a wave of loneliness, emptiness filling the vacant space surrounding your heart.

A shuddering breath released, you then reflect upon what your mother said about time and how time heals all wounds. You wonder how much time is needed until you can finally break free from the remnants of the past and breathe again. Could be days, weeks, or even months more, but it’s right there, waiting for you on the horizon.

You may not have a place to call home, but what you do have is time.

---

Seconds turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours. The sun sets, the moon rises; bright, blues skies bleed into a fiery red before dimming to an inky darkness. The world spins on its axis as people wake, move, then sleep, and the cycle begins all over again.

Two weeks have come and gone, and life pushes onward. You could tell by the scenery outside where the season of fall has taken charge of the Northeast. Days are shorter, with nights stretching out longer as the year fades into winter. Time was flying by at a brisk pace. Very soon, a blanket of snow will cover the ground you walk on, reminding you to take a step back and admire the natural beauty of mid-November.

The crispness of the late afternoon air is refreshing as it fills your lungs, a welcome change from the hazy summer heat. Leaves that were once lively shades of green are now painted in deep hues of amber and burgundy, and they crunch beneath your boots with each leisure step down the earthy path. The nearby lake is as pristine as ever, sparkling freely underneath the rays of the ochre sun as it waits for the impending frost.

Wandering about outdoors for hours now, you were lost in your stream of thoughts. You honestly felt better, not entirely mended, but just enough that you can step out of the house and explore the quaint little town. A picturesque place, it was a perfect settlement for your retired parents where everyone knew everybody; their faces, names, the street they lived on. Boilding down to more personal details such as knowing the pets they owned, which book club they’re a part of, and any recent travels.

When the townsfolk saw you, you sensed the feeling of familiarity. Those you passed by in the streets waved at you, and though you couldn’t exactly recall your relationship with them, it made you smile. Recently, old friends and family in the area had begun reaching out after hearing you were back. You never gave them the full explanation, only revealing that things in California did not work out, and you figured it was best to leave.

Was it a permanent decision? Most likely. Life here is simpler, quieter. You enjoyed the peacefulness, favoring the calm atmosphere of this town much over the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. It gave you space to think, to focus, to breathe. To reacquaint with yourself, rebuild who you are as a person by taking this journey of self-discovery.

It’s the brand new start you desperately wanted, needed. An opportunity to find your place in this world without the past holding you back. Without the shadow of the woman you once were looming over you. And if your memories don’t ever return, which deep down, you hope they never would, you would be fine with it.

You were tired of being stuck searching pieces of the past. You had to live.

Trekking up the gravel road leading to your parents’ home, a black car sits on top of the hill, one that you did not recognize. Perplexed, you approached the house with hesitant steps, dragging your feet through the pile of dead and dry leaves. There was a moment of panic when you noticed a man sitting on the front porch steps, hands clasped on his knees as he hung his head low, a curtain of dark hair masking his identity.

But you don’t need to think twice, for you already know who it is.

“Keanu?”

His name slipping out of your mouth feels different now. Gone is the affectionate tone that it was usually spoken in. It held no meaning, void of any warmth or tenderness. Keanu, the name is bitter on your tongue, a poison that could cause you to spiral down yet again, and saying it out loud brought upon a rage that swirls through your veins.

How dare he show up here unannounced?

As you take your breaths, one… two… three... and out, Keanu straightens his posture and meets your stern glare. Slowly, he gets up, the expression on his face hard to read. But aside from that, he looked worse for wear. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent, the beard on his chin was unruly and untamed. He appears gaunt and exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept a wink ever since you walked out of the door and out of his life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re the first to break the thick silence, a testament of your bravery and strength of some sort. Brows furrowing and teeth gritting in anger, it contrasts with Keanu’s lax demeanor as he steps closer. “No, stay back. You have no right to be here right now.”

“Y/N, please...” He speaks calmly, each and every one of his movements measured. “I’m not here to fight—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you seethed, shaking your head as you stormed past him and towards the door. Tears brew in your cloudy eyes, a sign of how much he still affected you. Seeing him again after all this time only proved that the wound he had inflicted bleeds to this day.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Keanu quickly trails from behind, his voice dripping with utter desperation. “Please, just… give me a chance to talk. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you won’t ever have to see me again.”

The seriousness in his timbre causes you to halt in your tracks. Swallowing dryly, you turn around, sad, tired eyes reaching his guilt-filled ones. Keanu stands before you with a face written in despair, making him barely recognizable. The way he’s staring at you as if he’s hopeless and in pure anguish is unsettling, and you almost pitied him for it.

“Y/N…” He pleads softly, defeatedly. “Hear me out, please.”

You wrestled between your options, half apathetic, half curious of what Keanu had to say. Unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, he mutely begs for you to relent, and if this is all it takes for him to leave you alone, leave you for good, then so be it.

“Ten minutes,” you muttered, low enough that he barely catches it at first. Crossing your arms against your chest, the gentle autumn wind rustling through the trees pierces the silent air as you observe Keanu staggering forward, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, gazing at you with his searching brown eyes. “I-I know saying it a thousand times won’t make a difference, but I really am sorry. What I did before and after the accident was inexcusable and selfish. I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself that. Don’t expect you to do so, either. You probably hate my guts right now, and flying out here might be a mistake, but I needed to talk to you in person. To say goodbye one last time.”

Brushing his hair back, Keanu then pads over to the trunk of the car, and all you can do is wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long, but he makes two trips to unload two boxes, setting each of them down in the space separating you two. He instantly notices the confusion etched across your features, burying his hands in his coat pocket with an exhale.

“Are those—”

“All the things you left behind,” Keanu finishes feebly. “Thought you would want them back.”

Stunned, a mirthless chuckle escapes your throat. “You didn’t have to do this. Those aren’t my things anyway.”

“But they are—”

“They’re not mine,” you cut him off with a weary gaze. “Keanu, I’ve said this before; I’m not the woman you fell in love with. Not anymore. Look, throughout those months we spent together, I tried to fit into this life everyone told me I had. A life that’s far from what I was used to. God, it feels like a dream being her. So confident, happy, and successful. Waking up from the coma, of course, I would want that. I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship which left me broken and unworthy of anything and anyone. Then you showed me the love I thought I didn’t deserve, and it kept me from realizing that it was all too good to be true.”

Eyes faltering to the ground, your fingers fumbled with the hem of your sweater, ultimately distracting yourself from the tears threatening to fall. “The truth is, I didn’t know you. You were, are, a stranger to me. You had done things behind my back, hid details that would have been a deal-breaker, but you didn’t care. I’ve thought about it a lot lately; would I have stayed if you told me from the very beginning. I wasn’t sure if I was madder at you kissing someone else, knowing how much it would hurt me, or the fact that you lied to fix this—us.”

There is a moment of silence that weighs over everything. The wind stops blowing; the leaves are motionless. Time seems to slow around you and Keanu as he waits for your next words. Words that you are still searching for since you hadn’t prepared to voice those thoughts out loud. They all came rushing, flooding like a broken dam, too overwhelming to keep at bay.

“Which one is it?” Keanu probes delicately, equally afraid of which answer you’re going to give.

“Neither,” you revealed, surprisingly. “I’m angrier at myself for falling too fast; for being the naive little girl who let herself be fooled, who refused to listen to her instincts even though she knew they were usually right.”

You see Keanu open his mouth to speak, but you weren’t done. “I always believed this accident was a curse. It erased years worth of memories that, at this point, I’ll never get back. But now, I see the good that came out of it. Our fights, our arguments, they were all signs that our relationship was falling apart, but I couldn’t let go of it—of you. I held onto us thinking the bad will just phase out eventually when in reality, I couldn’t bear giving up on you and this life we shared.”

Another pause. “Huh, funny. Looking at it, the same thing happened all over again.”

With that said, you felt relieved, somewhat lighter. Despite previous inclinations, you didn’t shout or yell at Keanu. Nor did you discuss to the fullest extent of the suffering you’ve endured. Strangely, it was nearly therapeutic admitting all of that to him, to yourself. For months, you had been unable to let go and accept the truth, allowing fear and doubt to control your actions.

But that was then, and this is now.

And now, it was time for you to be free.

“Guess this is it,” Keanu sighs dejectedly. He didn’t come here to win you back, knowing there’s nothing that he could do or say to repair the damage. Like you, he’s letting go, letting this be the closure he needs, and you need as well. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “Guess this is goodbye.”

Before you could leave his sight to spare Keanu the awkwardness, he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait a second. Swiftly, he goes to retrieve something that’s lying on the front seat, something that you’ve spent countless hours flipping through. He then reluctantly passes it over to you, and you’re unsure what to do with it.

“Your pictures,” he points out, though you were already aware. “I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything by giving this, but this book is yours. Keep it, burn it, do whatever seems right to you. But I want you to know, to remember, that I did love you. I still do, and these photos are proof of it, even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that I’m telling the truth. You deserve love and to be loved, Y/N. More than anything in the universe. I fucked up my chance to be the one to tell you that every day, but it doesn’t mean the next person you fall for will.”

“Ke…” your voice suddenly breaks with emotion, uncertain of what to add after his statement. It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him, your mother’s earlier words echo in your mind, ringing true in your heart. Even after everything, a piece of you still loved Keanu, and saying goodbye to him more painful than you anticipated.

As you stand frozen, Keanu inches nearer until he’s by your feet, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your cheek. He strokes your face with a tender caress before tilting your chin upwards to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb along your lower lip gently. You allow him to have this moment, to hold you and study you for a final time, commit you to memory as this would be the last.

Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him press a soft kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it immediately spreading throughout your body before he slowly pulls away.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Keanu says, opening the driver’s side door of his rental. You look at each other once more and see the subtle, hopeful smile he shoots your way. “And don’t be afraid to love again.”

You watch as he starts driving away, opting to wait until the car is finally out of view before releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

In your hands is a keepsake of your memories. A collection of captured moments that you had cherished so dearly. But things are different now; mistakes were made, words were said, people have grown apart. You found no reason to linger in the past when there’s nothing left to salvage.

Nothing left to do but heal.

The warmth of Keanu’s kiss eventually disappears, the world around you unpausing, continuing as it was before. You stay standing in place, glancing back and forth between the book you clutched on tightly and the boxes laying on the ground.

Yet in the quietude, the wind still blows. The leaves still fall, and the earth still spins.

Time resumes, bit by bit; passing for life to move forward—

For you to move on.

Part 13

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lilyette @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @breakthenight @allie1804-fan @partypoison00

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves

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intomymindspace · 4 years ago

Text

Just One Day ✰ Ushijima Wakatoshi

Just One Day by BTS

ushijima wakatoshi x gn!reader

Through the Summer and the Fall // Haikyuu!! Songfic Series

a/n: hi everyone, I'm sorry for falling off the map for a bit. I was feeling really just overwhelmed and burnt out, but also disheartened because of my fics not showing up in tags and stuff. oh well. I also started another semester of college... and on the first day, I found out that my ex had cheated on me 🤡 n e ways,,,, this fic is heavily influenced by that. thank you for reading my stuff and sticking with me. I just wanna be loved sometimes, yanno?

Word Count: almost 5k?

Warnings: none, just Oikawa mentioned as being a bad ex bf for unknown reasons. this is also probably unedited, so I am so sorry if there are any mistakes

If I have just one day I'd like to fall asleep with your scent If I have time on a tight schedule I'd like to soak myself in your warm, deep eyes

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he would take you to Tsutsujigaoka Park. He would hope it was near the end of March, so he could take you for a walk while the cherry and plum blossom trees were blooming. Regardless of the season, he would make sure to prepare a blanket and two bentos, and maybe even a sketchbook or two. The two of you would talk, and walk in a comfortable silence as you viewed the nature around. If any food stalls were open, Wakatoshi would make sure to bring extra pocket money to buy you something you wanted. His hand would completely engulf yours if he held it, and as he walked you back to your dorm room, he would even dare to ask permission to kiss you.

Tendou watched his best friend fondly, smiling as he recognized the faraway look in Wakatoshi's eyes. The ace was thinking about you. Tendou saw this look quite often, whenever Wakatoshi needed to calm down during a match, when he needed a break from studying, and even when you visited to coordinate cheers for upcoming matches. The olive-haired boy had never said anything about you, but this was one thing that Tendou was always able to read.

As the cheer captain of Shiratorizawa, it had always been a little tough for you. While coming up with cheers and leading the school to rally during games was easy, being in a relationship with Oikawa Tooru was the unsolvable variable in that equation. Wakatoshi had only wished the best for the both of you, as much as he pined from afar. You were happy, right? Did Oikawa make you happy?

There were many times where he had seen your puffy eyes, your cheeks rubbed raw, your voice not as loud as usual. It was never his business to ask - you were his rival's partner after all (or recent ex-parter, he had later discovered), and he was sure that Oikawa had given you a nasty impression of the ace.

He wondered if he could still have you, even if it was just for one day. Wakatoshi knew better, however. He knew the last thing you wanted was another man in your life. You didn't need someone who always reminded you of the boy who never prioritized you, who never shut down his fangirls and always left you insecure. Wakatoshi always felt guilty, even though he knew it was for no reason. Maybe if he had built up the courage to talk to you during first year homeroom, things would be different.

Even if it was for just one day, Ushijima Wakatoshi could've taken care of you. He could've balanced his priorities, appreciated your support, and crushed your insecurities. He could've been everything Oikawa wasn't. Wakatoshi was not a man of many words, but he knew the ones he could have spoken would have counted for something. He was never a man of empty promises, empty ambitions, and empty dreams. As the buzzer went off, Wakatoshi was brought back to the reality of the current game.

It was a shame, he thought, that Karasuno had beaten Aoba Johsai. He would've liked to put Oikawa in his place one last time.

As he stood back up with the rest of his team, he made his way over to the edge of the court. He breathed in and out, hearing your voice ring loud and clear. Your voice parted the crowd, and his heart couldn't help but flutter.

"Ushijima! Ushijima!"

You were cheering for him after all, right?

He bounced the ball, hitting it against the ground to make sure it felt right. As he heard the referee blow the whistle, he thought about what your face would look like when he served. Would you be ecstatic? Would your eyes widen in shock? Would he scare you, as he does so many others?

As the volleyball slammed into Karasuno's court, the crowd went wild. Wakatoshi glanced into the bleachers, already knowing where you were standing. The look of awe on your face was evident, Wakatoshi thought. He would certainly make the next serve if it meant seeing you smile again - even if it was for just one day.

Your voice when you call my name I want to be sunk with that voice and swim I want to know you more I am an adventurer who explores an unknown forest called "you"

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he would take you to the Sendai Uminomori Aquarium. He would stare at you under the black lights as you admired the jellyfish, floating in their tanks, their tendrils extending and waving to say hello. He’d catch himself in the reflection of the glass, his lips in a rare, soft smile as he’d watch you press your hands gently against the divider. He could imagine the look on your face - would you smile at him the way you used to smile for Oikawa? Would you finally have the sparkle in your eyes that had left? Wakatoshi hated that he would compare himself to the setter... but how could he not?

Would you enjoy the opposite of Oikawa?

He pondered this as he sat during the graduation ceremony. You were sitting a few rows up with your class, and he was placed next to Tendou, Semi on the opposite side of the red-haired blocker.

The chances of him ever seeing you again were very low. He would be playing with the Japan National under-19 volleyball team until his birthday, and from then he’d be trying out for the division one teams. Wakatoshi wasn’t sure what you would be doing - Tendou had told him that you had mentioned you’d be going to Tohoku University.

Wakatoshi’s biggest regret was never talking to you. He knew he had a multitude of opportunities, whether it be communicating on cheers, or simply just joining in on the conversations you’d have with Tendou and Yamagata. He knew it wasn’t his place, to try to replace the remnants of Oikawa in your heart with himself. But he would make sure that his last day with you wouldn’t be for nothing.

He found himself being dragged into pictures upon pictures - not that he minded, of course. He would make sure to ask for copies to keep as memories. He would need them for the documentary Tendou insisted he’d have. He couldn’t help but look at the smile on your face as you held up peace signs with Goshiki and Shirabu. You had gotten closer to the team during your third year, something Wakatoshi was forever thankful for. Tendou smiled, gently nudging the ace.

“Wakatoshi-kun, won’t you say something?” His olive eyes met Tendou’s crimson ones. Most would take Wakatoshi’s silence as indifference, but Tendou of all people knew better than that.

“Ah, you already have something in mind, don’t you?” Wakatoshi nodded.

“Will you go through with it?”

“Yes. I think I will.”

You had been comforting Goshiki through his tears and sniffles, promising to keep in contact with your precious kouhai. Once again, a rare, small smile curled Wakatoshi’s lips. You were still so caring, even when you’d been treated badly.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” You seemed surprised by Wakatoshi’s inquiry, but nodded nevertheless. Giving Goshiki one last pat on the head, you followed Wakatoshi as he lead you away from his and your teammates.

“What was it that you wanted, Ushijima-san?” Wakatoshi took the time to memorize the way your hair was lightly rustled by the breeze.

“Hold on, wait!” Tendou jogged up to the two of you, camera in hand. “Gotta take a photo of our two favorite captains!”

You leaned into Wakatoshi, your diploma in one hand and a peace sign in the other. Your smile was radiant, and Wakatoshi gingerly wrapped a loose arm around your shoulders. He didn’t even realize Tendou had counted down the seconds until the flash appeared, for he was too focused on looking down at your shining face. His best friend left as quickly as he appeared, shouting promises to send copies later. You turned back around, an expectant look on your face. Wakatoshi’s heart was fluttering in his chest, but his mind felt an odd sense of calm.

“We do not have military style uniforms, but I understand that it is common for boys to give the our second button to the one we cherish most.” He paid attention to every detail he could - the way your breath hitched in your chest, the flush in your cheeks, and your wide eyes. Without much effort, he ripped the second button off his suit jacket and presented it to you.

“Will you please accept it?”

Wakatoshi couldn’t help but wish you all the luck and happiness in the world. Even if it was for just one day, he was glad to see you one last time.

I appreciate a masterpiece, "you" Because your existence is an art Every day I imagine like this all night long Because you are nothing more than just a dream to me

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he’d take you to Universal Hollywood. He was never one for thrill rides, but Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind riding on the Hulk if it meant holding your hand as you screamed for your dear life. He would make sure to treated you to a nice, iced butterbeer and matching Harry Potter gear. Granted, he also wasn’t much of a fan, but he would be more than willing for you. He’d stand with you in the shade as the two of you sipped on the cold drink, the bustling life of Diagonal Alley creating the illusion of escapism. He’d remember to post a picture or two for Instagram, since Tendou always bugged him about starting a public social media.

Did Oikawa ever post photos of the two of you? Wakatoshi wondered if the setter had ever cared to do so. It had been nearly two years since he had gifted the button on his uniform to you - and he often found himself going back into his camera roll to find the photo Tendou took after graduation.

You had accepted it with a blushing face, not knowing what to say. Wakatoshi didn’t need an answer from you. He was more than content with the thought of you. He hoped you were doing well in college.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Wakatoshi heard a familiar voice say. The ace turned around to find Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s ace, standing in front of his very eyes.

“Iwaizumi-san, it is good to see you again.”

“Same goes to you, Ushijima-san. What are you doing here?” Ah, Wakatoshi thought, he must be referring to why I’m in this unbearable heat.

“My father is holding a training camp on campus, and invited me to attend before division one tryouts.” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re Utsui-san’s son?” Wakatoshi nodded.

“What are you here for?”

“I’m majoring sports science, and well, I was kinda hoping to meet your father while studying abroad to see if I could intern with him after graduating.” Wakatoshi nodded politely.

“I am on my way to see him right now. I would not mind introducing you to him, I am sure he would be more than willing to speak with you.” Iwaizumi thanked him profusely, falling in step beside his previous opponent as Wakatoshi began walking again.

"What teams are you hoping to tryout for?" Iwaizumi asked.

"I would like to play for the Schweiden Adlers."

"Ah, I'm sure they'll want you. Any division one team is probably dying for you to choose them."

"Thank you. Are you not pursuing volleyball?" Iwaizumi shook his head.

"Nah. I love the sport, but I think I'd rather train or coach players." Wakatoshi nodded.

"Though, Stupidkawa still is, obviously. He's been in Argentina for a while now." Iwaizumi noticed the slight furrowing in Wakatoshi's eyebrows, his face seeming forever etched into a frown, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry from bringing him up like that." Wakatoshi merely brought his hand up to wave away Iwaizumi's worries.

"What's funny is I actually go to college with his ex - they were at Shiratorizawa with you, right?" Wakatoshi couldn't help the way his eyes widened at Iwaizumi's mention of you.

"I have not spoken to them in a while. How are they?" He asked, keeping his olive eyes in front of him. Iwaizumi only smiled.

"We've actually gotten pretty close. I wound up in a bio lab with them in our first semester, and it turns out they're majoring in nutritional sciences."

"Is that so? How does Oikawa feel about that?" The brunette beside him knew better. After all, the two of you had become close friends. You had told him about Wakatoshi's confession.

"Shittykawa is pouty as always. He knows what he did wrong, though, so he doesn't complain." Iwaizumi looked up at Wakatoshi. "He's actually thinking of trying things again the next time he visits Japan." Wakatoshi tried his best to hide the disdain in his reply. Surely, you wouldn't want to retry being in a relationship with the setter, right?

"I did not think he would have the time." To Wakatoshi's surprise, Iwaizumi barked out a laugh.

"I don't think they'll accept any of his new advances. They've been focused on themselves and getting their degree for the most part." Wakatoshi wanted to ask what the ace meant by 'for the most part,' but his lips remained shut.

"That is good to hear." Iwaizumi smirked.

"I'm sure it is, Ushijima-san. After all, they did keep your button."

Maybe, Wakatoshi thought, just one day was not enough.

If I can be with you just one day If I can hold your hands just one day If I can be with you just one day Just one day If you and I can be together just one day

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he would make sure you had his undivided attention. He was fairly good at time management - knew when to start tasks, and he knew when to stop them. He could easily devote time for you while still being a pro-volleyball player. He would spend the day doing whatever you would want - whether it be going shopping (and holding your bags), taking a hike (he would pack extra snacks just for you), or simply staying in for a day of relaxation (he'd even make you your favorite dish, but Wakatoshi wouldn't be able to guarantee how good it would end up tasting). He'd make sure you felt loved and cared for, returning the same affection and effort that you gave to him.

He had been playing for the Adlers for almost a year now, the newest addition being Kageyama Tobio. Oikawa's disciple, he used to call the black-haired setter. To be honest, he quite liked Kageyama. Wakatoshi was just surprised that the orange-haired crow didn't follow him.

As Wakatoshi took his duffle bag and clothes from his locker, he found himself staring at some of the photographs he had printed out and taped to the inside of his locker. There was one of the Shiratorizawa team, used as a roster in his third year. He looked the just the same, in his opinion. The next one was of him and Tendou at the airport. The redhead had shaved his long locks, but the delighted look in his eyes was still present. Wakatoshi would make sure to call him on Friday, just like they did every week. They were best friends, after all.

The last photo was the one Tendou had snapped the day of graduation. Wakatoshi found himself always looking at it. The smile on your face would ground him before practice, before games. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could still hear your cheers in the stands. He would open his eyes, serve, and think of the same smile he always sought out in the crowd.

Wakatoshi had always wondered how you were doing - he thought about you everyday. He knew he could easily give into Tendou and Hoshiumi's pleas for him to create at least a Facebook page, or ask Iwaizumi for your number. But, it wasn't as simple as that, at least in his mind. You wouldn't want him anyways, would you? Not when Oikawa still seemed like such a big wall, at least in his mind.

He could still remember that day like the back of his left hand. He still remembered the way you smiled as you hugged Goshiki through his tears, and he still remembered the look in your eyes when he asked if you would accept his affections, without a need for them to ever be returned?

Wakatoshi questioned why he limited himself to being with you for just one day. Was he being patient, waiting for a day that would never come? Why was it that he convinced himself that the only way he'd ever see you again was when he dreamed?

"Ushijima-san?" It was Kageyama that pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Yes?" The setter merely frowned, holding his phone out for Wakatoshi to look at the screen.

"TOBIO-KUN!!!" It was a text from Hinata Shouyou. "LOOK WHO I FOUND IN RIO!!!" Below it was a picture of Hinata, his tongue out, the Rio sun setting behind him. Next to him was no one other that Oikawa Tooru, his tongue out as well. Wakatoshi's eyebrows furrowed immensely, his lips frowning.

"TOORU-KUN SAYS HI!!!" The situation alone was already jarring enough. Wakatoshi looked back up at Kageyama, to find the same look on the setter's face. Was Oikawa taunting him? Had Oikawa visited Japan before Rio? Had he bothered you? Wakatoshi had assumed that you still lived in Miyagi - you were almost done with your degree, if he counted the years correctly. What would you do after you graduated? Would you go back to Oikawa? Forgive him for all the things he had done? Or, would you find someone else? Would you move on (or, had you already moved on? Wakatoshi wondered this frequently) and find someone who would give you everything Oikawa couldn't, and everything Wakatoshi could?

He remembered the tears when you had gotten the call during a joint practice. Would he remind you of those painful times?

For just one day, Wakatoshi wished he could take all your troubles away, as old or as new as they were.

You will blame me a little, or a lot maybe I know I couldn't see you more because of my dream Then please give me one day, even one day in dreams is fine All the words I couldn't say, making an excuse that its reality

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he take you to Zuiganji Temple. It was nearly Christmastime, which meant the new year was just around the corner. On the first day of January, he would go with you to pray at the temple. He would stroll with you, hand-in-hand, as you admired the nature that surrounded the temple. The two of you would give offerings to the kami, clap your hands together in prayer, and receive good fortunes. Wakatoshi would make sure to pray for many more New Years with you.

The old Sendai City Gymnasium, now the Kamei Arena Sendai, sent him back to high school. They were even playing the MSBY Black Jackals. He remembered how you cheered for him in the stands, voice loud and smile bright as your pom-poms waved in your hands. He would most certainly imagine you in the crowd - he always did.

As the starting lineups are announced, Wakatoshi finds himself thinking about how the different the members of MSBY Black Jackals are. He would remind himself to go say hello to Sakusa and Hinata after the match. Out of the corner of his eye, Wakatoshi swears that he saw a glimpse of your hair. No, he thinks to himself. You were studying nutrition in college, so why would you be on the court? He didn't know if you'd be in the stands - would you? After all, Semi and Reon did come to watch the match.

He peers over to the opposite side of the court once more. He didn't know that the MSBY Black Jackals had a manager. His eyes must have been messing with him. Imagining you cheering him on had never been a distraction until now. Had he eaten something unusual this morning? Were the chia seeds in his overnight oatmeal expired? Wakatoshi thinks that it couldn't possibly be you. You weren't the person standing in a black and gold jacket on the opposite side of the course - they just had similar hair.

Bokuto Koutarou, as always, makes a scene as he leaps across the court during his introduction. Hinata and Miya Atsumu are yelling and laughing wildly, and the crowd goes crazy. The silver haired wing spiker then runs back to his team, giving them all enthusiastic high fives as he goes down the line. As he arrives at the end, he spins the manager around before picking them up, hugging them affectionately as he lifts and spins them around.

Wakatoshi's eyes widen as he finally sees the manager's face - and its you. It was really you. His breath seems caught in his throat. His chest is tightening like crazy, and he knows the exact reason why. He knows he had never stopped loving you - and now that he was seeing you again for the first time in years, his heart can't handle itself.

"Ushi-kun, are you okay?" It was Hoshiumi who pulled him away from his thoughts this time. The white-haired man was staring up at him with wide, concerned eyes. His eyes followed Wakatoshi's gaze, which lead straight to you.

"Is that the person in the picture that you always stare at in your locker?" Wakatoshi hears Kageyama sputtering, nearly choking on his water.

"Senpai is here?" Kageyama's eyes are wide as he looks across the court as well. Once he spots you, he frowns. "Stupid Hinata. Didn't even think to tell me that they were on the team. Their manager and nutritionist, no less."

Wakatoshi remembers when Kageyama first saw the photo in his locker.

"That's Oikawa-san's ex, right? I forgot they had gone to Shiratorizawa with you." Kageyama was peering into Wakatoshi's locker, forgetting personal space. The wing spiker nodded.

"Yes, they were the captain of the cheerleading squad." Kageyama nodded.

"They actually went to Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High. They always tutored me throughout junior andante high school and always bought me snacks, even after Oikawa-san - " Kageyama cut himself off. "Senpai was always very kind to me."

Wakatoshi nodded at the setter. "Yes, they have always been kind."

"Were you close to them? Ushijima-san?" For a few moments, Wakatoshi simply stared in silence at the photo.

"No, I would not have considered us close." He allowed himself to smile. "But, they are very dear to me."

Wakatoshi would've been more bothered by the Adlers' loss if it weren't for the fact that you were there. Seeing you there, smiling as you congratulated your team was more than enough to keep him at bay. However, he would make sure to beat the Black Jackals next time.

Wakatoshi had approached, almost with caution, as he trailed behind Kageyama and Hoshiumi. What should he say? Did you even want to talk to him? You looked really close to Bokuto and Atsumu (in fact, you seemed close with most of the team in general). Would you remember him? (That was a stupid question, he then decided.)

As he stood awkwardly behind the reunion, he continued to stare at you. You were laughing along with something Meian had said, and judging by Atsumu's face, the captain had made fun of him. His phone kept on buzzing, and he finally checked it only to find that it was the old Shiratorizawa groupchat.

"Look at this idiot" texted Reon, attached with a photo that must have been taken barely a minute ago. It was zoomed in and a bit grainy, but it revealed Wakatoshi staring at you. Yamagata had replied with an emoji of two eyes looking off to the side.

"Wakatoshi-kun" Tendou had texted, "If you don't go up to them right now / I will personally fly all the way to Japan / to kick your ass"

"OMG IS THT SENPAI / TELL THEM I SAID HIII / AND THAT THEY LOOK GORGOUS TODAY" Goshiki spammed, making Wakatoshi sigh. He looked back up, only to make eye contact with you - immediately, his breath felt as if it was lodged in his throat once more. A smile graced your lips, and you began to walk over. Wakatoshi could only stand there as you approached him.

"You were amazing today, Ushijima-san. I'm glad I got to watch you play in person again." You looked just as beautiful (or perhaps, even more than so) as you did all those years ago. Before Wakatoshi could even reply, you began speaking again.

"If you're free sometime this week, before you go back to Tokyo, I would love to catch up with you." You were playing with your fingers (a nervous habit, he had realized while in high school). If it weren't for his complete focus on you, he would've noticed both teams smirking and giggling like schoolgirls at the two of you.

Maybe, Wakatoshi thought, he could finally be with you for just one day.

I want to say at least one word right among them I didn't think it would be easy to forget you Am I selfish if I wish you won't forget me so easily? You're standing in the middle of me

If Ushijima Wakatoshi could be with you for just one day, he would make sure to perfect his vows. He would rehearse them over and over again to Tendou as his best friend (and man) made sure Wakatoshi looked perfect. Wakatoshi would already have memorized everything by heart, but Tendou would insist on him having a copy in his pocket, just in case. He would let you choose whatever decorations and colors you liked, and he would make sure to spare no expense if it meant seeing you smile. Wakatoshi was an Olympian, after all.

What would Oikawa's vows sound like? Would the setter charm you with sweet words and promises of love, like he had once done? He knew Oikawa did not matter anymore - he no longer questioned if you still loved the setter, or if you were still healing from the breakup (even if it was already so many years ago, Wakatoshi just wanted to make sure). He no longer compared himself to Oikawa, but he still wondered what it would be like if Oikawa were in his position.

"Thank you once again for designing and creating our outfits, Azumane-san." The long haired man smiled, placing the finishing touches on Wakatoshi's custom suit.

"It is my pleasure, Ushijima-san." The designer cracked a smile. "After all, you did pay me."

"Are you nervous, Wakatoshi-kun?" Tendou asked. The short-haired man was smiling at Wakatoshi.

"Should I be, Tendou-kun?" Wakatoshi truly did wonder this. Should he be feeling nervous? Because truth told, he wasn't. Wakatoshi couldn't feel a single nervous bone in his body, and Tendou only laughed.

"If you are, I wouldn't blame you. You're getting married, after all." Iwaizumi barged into the room as he fastened the cuff links.

"Are you ready, Ushijima-san?" He felt Tendou pat his shoulder.

"Yes, I am."

How could Wakatoshi be nervous for a day he had only ever dreamed of?

He stood at the end of the aisle, as patient as ever. It was a medium-sized wedding, as close family and friends from high school and beyond were invited. Tendou stood just off to the side, followed Iwaizumi, Kageyama, Semi, and Bokuto. As the music began to play, Wakatoshi readied himself. For obvious reasons, he hadn't seen what you looked like - and Azumane made sure to keep the design of your outfit "top secret."

He inhaled deeply, paused, and then exhaled. As his olive eyes traced your approaching figure, Wakatoshi found himself just as breathless as he was, all those years ago. You were shining just as bright. Wakatoshi didn't cry - he didn't need to in order to express how he felt at that moment. He was calm and happy. Your hands were cold in his much larger, much warmer ones. Wakatoshi took them both as you stepped up to the platform. Had his eyes always been this soft, this fond? The smile on his face was evident - and he could care less if anyone were to be surprised by a break in his often stoic face.

Wakatoshi never needed to wish for just one day with you. Not anymore, at least. He could take care of you, and be with you for the rest of his days. He realized this as he saw the tears well up in your eyes as he finished his vows. The were no longer any reasons for him to compare himself to Oikawa. Not when you were standing before him, wedding ring slipped around your ring finger. He could prioritize you, praise you, and love you the way he had always wanted to.

"For so long, I had so deeply desired to spend even just one day with you. I am forever grateful that you would choose to spend more than one with me."

If I can be with you just one day If I can hold your hands just one day If I can be with you just one day Just one day If you and I can be together just one day

thank you for reading!! once again... please do like AND reblog if possible. and let me know what you think. I crave validation and attention. I'm so lonely its unreal.

- Crystal

through the summer and the fall masterlist

blog masterlist

my ko-fi (but only if you can and want to!)

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima imagine #ushijima wakatoshi imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader

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