#analogical oneshot

[estro-gem]

Jax x Ragatha: Eyes

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's Note:

When he looks at me... and I look at him... and he looks at me... aNd I lOoK aT hIm - I'll stop now I was meaning to write about the other characters, but these 2 were stuck in my head! Blasted!

I craved fluff, so I give fluff. This is a simple, short and sweet scenario. It might take a bit for me to write again, but we'll see how it goes. Let's hope there's no mistakes in the grammar! No warnings; other than the fact that the characters belong to Gooseworx~

Sorry if I disappear for a while, I'll try not to make it too long. Final year degree stuff...

SUMMARY:

Ragatha hand-embroiders something under Jax's merciless stare.

Please enjoy!

EYES

Watching someone repeatedly poking a needle through fabric shouldn’t be so interesting.

Ragatha decided to blame it on the obvious; Jax was stuck in a digital world where every day was a chaotic deadline with the pressure of your whole family coming for a visit this coming evening and your house was still a mess, because you didn’t have the time or energy to clean it this morning, since your cat decided to shred the last toilet paper you had in you house and you had nothing to wipe with, thus it cost you an early trip to the store, but you missed the bus and it was raining, so you ditched the store to just walk to work, only to realize that you haven’t changed out of your pajama’s yet and you had no spare clothes, forcing yourself to attend a meeting with water dripping down your legs and you clothes sticking to your body.

That was oddly specific…

The point is that everyone craved some form of normalcy. Jax was allowing himself to just exist her presence, who was caught in the slow, tedious process of embroidering a purple piece of fabric by hand. He didn’t make an effort to keep a conversation going, but the ragdoll wasn’t bothered by it. Her hands tingled where his big eyes were fixated, watching intently.

They were situated on a two-seater couch that they randomly found back stage. It's been a while since the group first carried it out to place it off to the side, near the main area. It was rarely used, unless it was a scenario such as this one; Jax watching Ragatha embroider quietly.

At first, she thought that he was looking for an error to point out, or even just to mess with her by trying to make her self-conscious with his unblinking staring. To counter whatever she thought he had planned, she would just discard the fabric and thread, while she wasn’t too far into her progress. In doing that, this would be a practice trail to complete her embroidery project away from prying eyes in the future and she would have the satisfaction of seeing Jax’s face when he saw how unbothered she was losing her progress or messing up.

But the snarky comments never came.

That’s alright, Ragatha could work with that! He was just being patient, until she had something to show for her time and effort. Until her work was something of value to lose. It was only a matter of time before the bunny brought up his old schemes again, so in the meantime, she would just have to continue. She was actually making great progress; it was starting to really look like something.

Oh no…

Ragatha didn’t think that she would make it this far. What started as two big dilated, black pupils, evolved into two large golden eyes staring up from the purple fabric. She was currently hyper-focused on the black rim surrounding the brilliant golden sclera of the second eye, almost completing the set. It was coming on so nicely.

The doll wasn’t nearly as brave as she was before. She wanted to curse her patience with herself, with this project, with Jax being Jax...

A mysterious flush of heat and tingles dragged itself up the red-head’s face. She couldn’t understand why – she was annoyed, but she wasn’t angry. She wasn’t even human, so the sensations, though otherworldly, was not the strangest thing to happen to her – she could take and axe to the face without so much as a squeak – but it was still puzzling her. It was making her feel lightheaded, as she suddenly became very aware of her steady calm breathing and abruptly fumbled to consciously control it. It was like she was a flustered mess that suddenly forgot how to breathe. All her well-practiced hand motions briefly paused as there was a moment of deep contemplation.

The tingling heat instantly evaporated from her face, only to flare up onto her now frozen hands, hovering closely over the embroidery.

Ragatha almost twisted her neck with how quickly she whipped her sight to Jax sitting next to her.

She was probably hallucinating, but she almost believed that she saw him lean back slightly, as if reigning himself. The bunny was comfortably sitting back with his one arm hanging over the back of the couch they shared, bending his elbow to rest his cheek on his hand. If the doll shuffles closer, he would practically have his arm draped around her shoulders, and she would be able to rest her head in the crook of his neck.

His eyes were fixed on her hands that was now folded atop one another, covering the golden orbs she spent so long on. He didn’t look bored, per say, but he did sport his usual smug, unbothered expression. If anything, he looked content, but Ragatha knew Jax better than that. She could feel that the intensity of his gaze prickling over her now heated hands meant that he was deeply invested – interested. If she felt his eyes so prominently fixed on her hands…

Was he focused on her face before?

“Ya makin’ somethin’, Dollface?” Jax asked nonchalantly, lazily trailing his gaze up to her face. He was wearing that smug grin - and the poor dolly suffered the severe rush of heat bite into her cheeks again, desperately trying to focus. She missed the fierce flash in Jax’s eyes as she tried to keep her darn breathing steady; not quite able to just let it manifest naturally anymore – too slow, then too fast… then too slow…

“You tell me.” She bit back without thinking, “You’ve been staring this whole time.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes!” Ragatha huffed out, “What? Are you waiting for me to mess it up?”

“Only you could mess this one up.” Jax mused through his Cheshire grin, “I didn’t even touch you!”

“You didn’t have to touch me to make me- eh- nevermind!”

“To make ya what?” The sparkle in Jax’s eyes seemed to blaze into a raging fire. His eyes seemed to pin her down for a moment, before his tone suddenly shifted, "You give me too much credit, Doll."

Dangerous.

Jax felt dangerous when he was eyeing her like that. It’s a danger that Ragatha couldn’t help but get lost in, as she let out something between a huffy sigh and an incredulous cackle. Her hands were shaking. The tension was getting harder and harder to endure. When Jax was like this – when she was like this - they always ended up like gasoline on fire.

The doll would always somehow unintentionally, yet willingly tempt him by looking like his personal feast.

Jax would always somehow resist the urge to kiss her breathless.

“What exactly are ya makin, Raggs?” Jax strained his smile as he tore his gaze away from her siren-call she has for a face. Things must move along before the bunny does something he would instantly regret.

Ragatha took a few seconds to cool herself off, then followed the rabbit’s lead to look to the golden eyes she was embroidering.

“I wanted to make a plush.” She mindlessly trailed one finger along the rim of the eye, “I figured that I could embroider the face before cutting the fabric into the shapes I need. It's a bit upside down, since it'll probably by easier to stuff the plush first, but I didn't think this would turn out so well. It was meant to be a practice-run.”

“Those are my eyes.” Jax gave her a cheeky glance, “You miss me in bed or something?”

It was supposed to be a joke, but the doll decided, she had enough.

Screw it.

“I thought this would be a good alternative, yes.” Ragatha said plainly, effective shutting the rabbit up, as her voice seemed to wilt slightly, “I wouldn’t bother you as much. I know you don’t like me touching you.”

“Ragatha, I don’t like anyone touching me.” Jax turned to face her fully, tone shifted uncomfortably serious. He almost sounds upset.

Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. In attempt to save the situation, she kept het mouth shut. No more words.

Dolls are seen, not heard.

“Why me?” he asked, a simple question.

It only required a simple answer.

“I trust you.”

Ragatha wanted nothing more than to leave. She was embarrassed and uncomfortable; and she was convinced that Jax felt the same. She didn’t consider that she ripped his heart out of his chest by saying that.

She shouldn’t trust a snake...

Just when Ragatha got up to retreat to her room, she jolted upon feeling a desperate hand grab at the hem of her dress. She stood in place, but didn’t look at Jax. She wanted to forget that they had a conversation in the first place.

“Make me one when you are done with yours?” Jax spluttered out unplanned. There was a beat of silence, before the doll gave in to look at the bunny once again. At least he got her attention-

“Make you a plush… of yourself…?” Ragatha asked slowly, confused.

“Make me one of you.”

He had to be joking. There was no way that he would ask something like that and be serious about it, right? He would just wait for the moment she let her guard down to start laughing, right? Right?

The room just wailed in silence.

It weighed down his larger-than-life persona to dangle at his knees. Ragatha was dumbstruck as she searched his face for something wicked, only to find a troubled man stare back at her.

He was being sincere.

“Why me?” She asked, confused; a simple question.

It only required a simple answer.

“I trust you.”

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

[emeraldhazeart]

Listen.

That WIP isn't dead.

We've just put it out to pasture.

Yeah, we could tell it just wasn't feeling it's usual self this season, so we've decided to give it a rest to take the pressure off.

When will it be back? We don't know. Rest and recuperation takes time. It'll tell us when it's ready to return.

And hey, if it ends up having to retire, that's fine too. We've had a good run with this WIP. Would be a shame to work it into the ground if it's really not a doer. Not all WIPs are born to be winners, after all.

And there's always the possibility of producing a new WIP from it. Who knows, its offspring could just go on to be the next big thing.

[analogicalreasoning]

There's a common headcanon that Virgil hates the idea of the sides shapeshifting because it characterizes Deceit (I think it's common anyways??) and I absolutely love that.

However, consider Virgil using that ability to shift himself into a cat whenever he gets too anxious or stressed out. How about that? How about him being Logan's little pet cat, huh? Huh???

(If you have oneshot suggestions, do share!!)

[lorisidirgiichi2002]

I really wish I had the skills and computer space to make a Analog series based on OneShot. It would have been about the Author and a Analog original character working in a fictional company based on and created the World Machine to create some test demos before releasing OneShot. Though the World Machine starts waking up and starts screwing with the game and give clues on what is going on behind the scenes.

[moonbeam-dragon]

High school AU. Virgil is a Freshman. Logan and Patton are seniors.Virgil gets left at school during the winter. He can't get a hold of his mom or dad and is starting to panic. Luckily, there are a couple more people he can rely on.

[romansgoodluckcharm]

NBLW Virgil with their trans wife logan

SO FUCKING REAL theyre both objectum lesbians and they're fucking nasty rn. Trust me I'm an objectum lesbian myself

[ceraea]

The suffocating feeling of petals and pollen

(a metaphor for toxic relationships or however you perceive it)

By me /_ceraea_

"I've always loved daffodils; The way they looked and their rich gold color was always so beautiful. I'd love nothing more to lay in a field of daffodils

But, That was back then

I always laid in fields of daffodils despite them suffocating me. The pollen was too much to bear but their beauty and the way they made me smile made me stay despite not being able to breathe

But now I've stopped laying in fields of daffodils or even going near one. I once loved them so dearly but now they give me a feeling of dread

Even as I stopped loving them I still feel the unnecessary want to roll around in a field that may as well be my death"

[luna-kaat]

The parasite

You were a ray of sunshine that was muffled by a rain cloud.

A bacterium, a virus, a parasite.

Since you could make your own decisions, you were always the same. So why did you have to give in for something that never did anything good for you?

He intruded into your life, slowly infecting every aspect of you like a vile parasite. An infection which cure you ignored, or rather, were forced to ignore.

Your friends never liked it, your family when they found out about the existence of this parasite at first they didn't think much of it but after the first time the bastard made you cry they wanted to burn it.

Why didn't you spit it out?

The parasite entered your system in disguise. Like the Trojan horse.

How could you know that its words were false? The parasite wore a good disguise.

Before attacking, it watched you from a distance to find your weak spots.

The parasite was not an idiot, at first you were not bothered by its existence, "It hasn't done me anything bad." That was your excuse.

After a while, it moved into your brain, making you believe in false promises of eternity. Promises that made you want to stay with the parasite, blinded you at the same time.

The moment that it took control over your brain is when the bastard began to execute its evil plan.

It cut off the circulation of what brought you happiness, your friends. At first it would only let you see them as long as it was present, but if your friends told you something bad about the parasite, it would then cut off circulation to them.

So many people that the parasite forced out of your life. But blindness wouldn't let you recognize it.

The infection made you believe that you needed it to feel happy, a complete being. What a lie.

It fed on making you hate what brought you happiness. Did you like to eat French fries? It made you hate them because "salt hurts me, no, it hurts you, you."

Reading romance novels made your beautiful heart beat so hard that it seemed to make you cry.

The parasite choked your bloodstream just because it didn't like them.

It didn't like them because "They give you the wrong idea of ​​love." It wasn't that, it just didn't want you to realize the toxicity of the bastard. It didn’t want you to know there was better, that you could thrive without it.

I could write an entire novel devoted solely to the horrifying details of the parasite, but that would be the same as acknowledging its existence.

It made you dependent. It cut off circulation to your independence, he clung to everything that defined you as your own person.

Finally, when you least expected it, it  hurt you. It was no longer enough for it to damage your mind, it became greedy and damaged you.

When you wanted to rip off the parasite it made you believe in more lies. "Without you I could die." It was true, but it was a worm, something worse than a fly, yet it manipulated you so much that it made you believe that it was a bad thing to kill the parasite.

You suffered in silence, just because it made you. Crying. Your beautiful being broke.

However, today, you cut off its head. You couldn't stand its bestial torture anymore.

It writhed on the ground, and once more the world turned color.

Your friends congratulated you, your family hugged you.

The parasite is dead and we all truly hope it stays that way forever.

[lordsukunas]

HE WANTS TO LEAGE KUGISAKI'S SEAT OPEN???? NOOOOOO WHAT

JUJUTSU KAISEN [UPDATED] CHARACTERS DESCRIPTION ON ITS 4TH POPULARITY POLL ⭐

💫 ITADORI YUUJI

💫 FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

💫 OKKOTSU YUUTA

💫 GOJO SATORU

He's my love, yall 💗

💫 SHOKO IEIRI

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[browniefox]

I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.

The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3

An Outreached Hand by WDW

Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3

Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb

Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.

Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature

A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.

Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger

Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.

like they were a perfect fit by hapful

Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit

Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.

none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch

I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross

Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.

Raising Stakes by MaryPSue

Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!

Lost and Found by PengyChan

Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.

Off-Season by anistarrose

Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.

Persist and Dwell by fencesit

A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.

flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.

If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!

[sheepwavehdg]

Implantation is very analogous to marriage to the affini. what if they were literally combined into a single ceremony? A oneshot, written in second person about "your" wedding to an affini surgeon.

[too-much-yike]

oh they’re so

i need them to smooch rn

glad to have another analogical artist help feed this poor community 🫡

Hey did I ever tell yall I make art too not just oneshots haha yeah

Yeah im so cool guys yeah

[unreadpoppy]

Fic recs

In light of some stuff I saw, I decided to make this post to briefly talk about some fics I really like and recommend them. All are BG3 related and most are Raphael. Also, there's some authors that write a lot of great fics, I'll try to keep one fic per author or else we'll be here forever (but definetly go check everyone and their other works out!)

...

Cheerful Oblivion by @sassyandsodone - Read the tags before reading this but Love me dark stuff, the writing is amazing (legitimetly gasped at a few points) and the mix of Tav not remembering what happened and the dehumanization aspects were the cherry on top. It

I Don't Think About You Anymore (But I don't think about you any less) by @sky-kiss - This fic put me in a lot of different feels, ESPECIALLY SAD (which i do like, love when stuff makes me feel) and the ending was unexpected to me but it made it all worth it. Shed a tear or two

Devil's Debauchery by ChildofYugotth - One of the first fics I read on the Raphael tag, the first chapter lives in my mind rent free for many, many days, and I really like how the three chapters kinda go like regular raphael, haarlep and then ascended fiend, like a progression. Also read the tags.

Fallen in Flame by @cambion-companion - Love the dynamic between the two characters and how their relationship developed and the conflicting feeling that Tav has of like, being an aasimar and dealing with a devil

The Devil that knows you by @timesthatneverwere - Cat!Tav was not something I knew I needed before reading this. The relationship between Tav, Raphael and even Haarlep in this one is VERY interesting to me (and has lowkey inspired me some times) and I love seeing Raphael keeping secrets and manipulating people (also i have to mention, this fic gave us the mephisto fuck chamber)

Let the dream begin by DiscordsMuse - POTO inspired, this has hit me in the feels with relating to Morrigans struggles of feeling rejected, and honestly, Raphael as the Phantom was amazing.

finirà bene by @inaconstantstateofchange - A Halsin/Astarion/Tav one for a change, this is such an interesting and heartbreaking concept, but there's also this sense of mystery that I think is really well done. Also, beware the ANGST

Her soul will burn all the way down by khapikat222 - Read the tags, another dark fic that I loved, and this one had this manipulation and fucking with someone's fears that I really liked. Also, props to the author for making the lullaby fit, it was a great cherry on top.

Baldur's gate 3 infernal oneshots by @hrefna-the-raven - chapters 1-4 are a little story between Raphael and Tav that I really liked. The dynamic of raphael being more protective and the cat and mouse analogies were really fun!

The Intimacy of Pain by @bearhugsandshrugs - This is an Abdirak/Tav fic which I found so delightfully good, like the descriptions of how Tav was feeling and the mix of pleasure and pain were really well done

The Devil's Hour by @adarlingwrites - Also one of the first fics in the tag that I read, and what made me like OC x Canon, love the complicated but also interesting to read relationship between Fortune and Raphael, and another aspect that I really liked was Fortune's relationship with art and her parents being brought up like (like idk why but those two things really stuck with me)

Sweetening the Deal by @adevilyoudo - I have to admit that I'm a bit behind on some chapters BUT it's a great work, love seeing this side of Raphael of trying to convince Tav to take this deal (and in a way, almost confusing her even more) and I loved to see the side of the Emperor constantly being in Tav's head, I think it really conveyed well how that feels like when playing the game

The Devil You Share a Room with by @djmorn - Really fun concept and the shennanigans between the two in the beggining, when Tav is reluctant to share a room with Raphael, was a delight to read and really really fun.

Damaged by @dark-and-kawaii - This is a Rolan/Tav one, it's dark but it also tugged at my heart in a sad way, with Rolan feeling all these things and doing what he does because of the abuse he suffered and Tav also trying to understand that. Like aaaa it just, it's some good stuff this fic

Who's the Daddy by Follyfall - This fic is the definition of fun and a good time, I legitimetly laughed a lot while reading it. The writing is fun, the concept is hilarious and the relationship between Raphael, Tav, Haarlep, the baby and Wyll is really really fun.

...

Also, keep in mind that there's A LOT of amazing writers in the bg3 community and i haven't read every single written work in the tags ever, so feel free to also reblog and add reccomendations of your own, or make your own post!

[poetryandfluffycats]

51 Kisses

A/N: its mugis birthday! I wrote this brainrot in celebration

Pairing: Tsumugi Aoba x gn!reader

Content: Cuddle sessions with Tsumugi are mandatory after a long week of work

Warnings: a very small amount of biting, overall fluff

Words: 562

Oneshot under cut!

Tsumugis thighs were plush, round, so soft you could probably melt into them and merge with him for the rest of your life. If there was a market out there for human pillows, Tsumugi would be the number one seller. They were pale just like him, would flush pink whenever you traced your nails up and down them, and were currently littered in tiny, saliva coated teeth marks and bright red lines from where your head lay.

"Aha, (name)~" The bluenette below you let out yet another breathless, almost moan-like giggle as your mouth travelled up his inner thigh, leaving your marks of love along the way. "That tickles! Please don't bite me so hard, I need these!"

You giggled alongside him, continuing your ministrations anyway despite his whines of protest. "You'll be alright"

It wasn't often the two of you got moments like these. Times when you could sit still and enjoy each other to the fullest like how couples were meant to, laze around in your underwear and cuddle into the late hours of the night.

Cliche as it was, Tsumugi was quite often busy with his idol work, as were you with your studies, so when you did get time to yourselves you savoured it like a fine wine. Sometimes with sex, other times with the intimacy of being close contact with each other. Tonight was the latter, and you were more than enjoying it.

His presence was nice, you felt. The whole dorm smelt of him, coffee beans and freshly washed linen. A homely smell, like a breath of fresh air in the craziness of the world, or like a catnip smell louring you in to something safe and warm.

"You're staring"

"You're pretty"

Tsumugi flushed red at the compliment, eyes darting away from yours. He had always been like that, getting bashful at the smallest praise from you. "You're prettier, silly"

One of his fingers twirled around a strand of your hair as he spoke. The look of admiration on his face could have made your heart melt, and his smile. Oh Lord, his smile.

He had dimples when he smiled, it was a fact of him you knew well, having traced the dips in his skin time and time again. That stupid, big and dopey grin that reached from his mouth all the way up to the tips of his ears had you falling in love all over again, like a love struck teenager watching their favourite idol on the stage.

Maybe that analogy wasn't too far off from the truth.

"Kiss me?" You childishly asked, resting your chin on his tummy and looking upwards at him with wide eyes, the eyes that had him melting just as you had been. "Mugi?"

The man hummed in response, smile never leaving his lips as he leaned down to capture yours. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was sweet, gentle, and oh so loving. When he pulled away, you found yourself chasing after him, climbing up into his lap and clinging onto him like a koala.

"Again!"

"Again? That's like the 50th time tonight!" He chuckled, "You're a bit greedy, aren't you?"

"Mugi, again"

"Bossy too, huh? The things I do for you"

A fit of giggles escaped from both of your lips, and then he was kissing you once more, for the 51st time that night.

[iho6hi2]

Unspoken Rizz.

Type: Drabble, Oneshot

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi/M! Reader

Summary: Isagi was never the type to get frustrated over petty shit talk, but you prove to be a special kind of exception.

Warnings: Degenerate Flirting, One-Sided Dislike, Enemies to ???, Unresolved Tension, gay bitches

Word Count: 1,890

A/N: theyre so LAME 🫥🫥🫥

*Du bist ein Blödian - you're an idiot

"Only one goal against the U-20? You'd think the superstar on the rise would be better, but he's barely keeping up." Isagi overhears you talking about him to a less notable player of Bastard München.

Recently, Isagi kept seeing and hearing more of you. When first introduced, you didn't speak a word of importance and value to him, just the simple greetings with the regular dose of stiffness and unfamiliarity he had expected and returned.

Then like a switch that's been flipped, one morning you slap him in the face with headstrong, criticizing and bitter comments. He was confused, baffled and a little speechless to say at the very least.

You two clash gazes and your smile impossibly widens, while he pinches his eyebrows together. He decides to be the better man and just nods his head politely while looking away from you.

Isagi isn't one to pick fights. He isn't the type to argue with people unless he was bitten without provocation first, but other than that, Isagi doesn't actively seek butting heads with others for whatever reason, nor does he enjoy it.

So, he couldn't help but allow your little snide remark to get under his skin and boil his blood slowly from within him.

He wouldn't admit it, over his dead body would he confess something as pathetic as that, but it did make him look back on the game and think about whether or not he could have done something more, and truthfully, he really could have. But he was still proud of his game and hearing someone diminish his hard work made him angry.

He shouldn't be, he was surrounded by assholes. Both figuratively and literally. Isagi should know better, you were no different than players like Kaiser, Rin, Barou... hell even Karasu. The same shit-eating grin, sly eyes and pompous attitude.

And with that set in stone, he let it go. Isagi continued on with his training, not thinking about you and that smug mug and smart mouth of yours.

★

Isagi was reviewing the latest rankings. Noa had updated everyone's current standing and Isagi smiled when he checked his status, he was higher up now! He was slowly climbing up the rankings and surpassing in numbers even regulars from Bastard München.

"Your physicals are still trash. Go hit the gym," amid his ignorant bliss, your voice booms directly in his ear. Your breath fans his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He whips his head around so quick he was pretty sure even you could hear the slight cracking noise.

He frowns and grits his teeth and almost froths at the mouth upon noticing how pleased you seemed with his reaction. "Shut the fuck up."

In one way or another, you remind him of a vulture. Preying and biding your time to devour him, but perhaps he's giving you way too much credit with just this analogy alone.

You roll your eyes, your smirk never once falling off. "Brains alone won't get you anywhere, go run the treadmill and lift some weights." You advise, all the while ill-mannered.

"We'll see about that. I'll beat you," Isagi replies confidently. He stands his ground firmly, staring into your eyes.

You whistle, unimpressed. Bemusedly, you say, "That was lame, did you make that up on the spot or have you been practicing it for a while now?" It's not exactly a question, he knows that perfectly well, but Isagi still feels compelled to answer, to have the last word.

"Trying to act cool and unbothered isn't the way to win a confrontation, [Last Name]."

You chuckle and it feels entirely out of place coming from you. "What movie on Earth did you escape from? Are you delusional or is that just another one of these group symptoms that Blue Lock gives you?"

Isagi sighs, you were hopeless. He can't deny the fact that you were good, but he can't understand why you only spoke to him and him alone in that patronizing way. He's seen how you behave around Kaiser, Ness and the other less talented players on the team and they've never once appeared displeased to his degree.

"What's wrong with you?" Isagi asks out of the blue, voice not exasperated, just inquisitive.

You blink, the corners of your mouth twisting downwards for a split second. As if self-conscious of frowning around him, you immediately smile. "What's wrong with me are those ugly cleats you got on."

"But we're wearing the same exact pair."

"Look how you're copying my style, though. That's crazy, though."

Isagi sucks in a breath, walks around you and resumes his daily routine. Meanwhile you continue to stare at him, amused at the silent treatment you were receiving. You could deal with the cold shoulder, makes it more fun.

"You're never gonna be anything." You claim. Isagi turns on his heels and exits the room. You quickly deflate.

Perhaps you couldn't deal with the cold shoulder as well as you thought you could.

★

Isagi wipes his sweat with a towel, sitting his ass on the sidelines, slumping all over the wall. He pants, eyes getting droopy. He was about ready to doze off.

Isagi did extra the exercises in his usual work-out regime. Embarrassing as it is, he did take your suggestion to consideration and decided to run with it. His legs were killing him and his arms felt like falling off, but he thought that it wasn't a waste of his time.

He battled the urge to fall asleep in the in-door gym, unaware of the way you drank up the sight of him from where you stood, all too pleased to see him listening to you in spite of everything that was said and done.

Kaiser glances at you briefly, then clicks his tongue with his usual arrogant expression. Like your subliminal signs of affection were inconveniencing him despite your lack of vocalization.

"When are you ever gonna learn? You make yourself far too obvious," he chastises you with a holier-than-thou voice.

"You think so?" you question, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly.

Kaiser focuses on Isagi's form and discerns the nasty drool escaping his mouth before studying your own awky figure. "Never mind that, he's got shit for brains up in that skull. You aren't any better, either."

Ness chimes in passive-aggressively, "I'd still give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Wow, thanks guys. Love you so much." You reply sarcastically in turn.

Kaiser glares and raises a finger, "Don't say that to me, ever again. You'll make me hurl on the spot." Ness claps at that and you simply marvel at the dick riding.

★

Your shadow looms over Isagi, who refuses to acknowledge you. He preoccupies himself with his half-empty bowl instead, wondering how long you're going to stick next to him, leering down like you're a supreme being and he's a measly flea.

You pull the chair right beside him, plopping your bottom with the least bit of grace he's ever seen. He closes his eyes, shoving a spoonful of food in his mouth as a distraction.

You chortle, splitting a loaf of bread apart and dropping it in your soup. Isagi gags at your method. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I'm feeding myself steroids."

"You'll need them to beat me." Isagi bites back at you even if you easily spot the rice grains sticking to his nostrils and the sauce stain on his chin.

"I don't need that shit to kick your ass."

"We can take it there."

"We've already taken it there. Next game, I'll humiliate you live in front of all these dumbasses tuning in and you won't have a shred of pride and dignity left in you." You respond, but for some reason Isagi can't feel the characteristic hostility, instead there was a rhythmic lilt to your tone.

"You love talking, don't you," Isagi grunts, but he can't find it in himself to frown unlike before. He was getting a bit excited, you're no weakling and the thought of competing against you made him unable to sit still. He wanted to be standing on the field in this very moment, but he nevertheless had to wait.

You stay silent after that, but he could tell you weren't backing down just because of what he had retorted. You squint your eyes and mirth settles once more on your features, "Unfortunately for you, I've always been a blabbermouth."

★

You contemplate drowning yourself in the hot springs. The water is warm, but your shame has your blood running cold.

You have lost against Isagi. Even if for the most part you didn't mean half the things you said, you still had some pride. And yet what little confidence you had left was shattered in mere seconds.

You should have been faster, you should have read the situation first and you should have calculated better. You should have scored that goal, but you ended up as a piece of shit decoy for Isagi, who reveled in his victory.

You look up at the ceiling, blinding yourself. Your ears were getting filled with gross butt water and you felt like a torn-up plastic bag. "I suck hairy ass cheeks, man. Fuuuuuuckk."

"You're not wrong." You pause in your fit, eyes saucers wide as you stare like a deer in headlights. You were suddenly embarrassed, like you were caught doing something appalling.

You dip your head under water and Isagi observes the small bubbles emerging on the surface. "Stop that, [Last Name]! Are you a child to be upset over something dumb like that?" He scolds you and you think that might have been your breaking point.

"Shut up! You're one to talk, you big penis! Weren't you the one sending death threats to Gingerhead via real life? I'm allowed to cry! Real men cry!" You manage out between green snot and you divulge that you were ugliest when you wail.

Isagi parts his mouth, rendered speechless. Not so much because he felt guilty, but because being put so abruptly in such a weird situation made his mind go blank. He couldn't figure out what to do or say to comfort you. Seeing you cry like a baby prompted him to at least try and pacify you a tiny bit. That's what nice people do, right?

"Hey," He reaches out to you, his hand grabbing at your arm to pull you out of the hot spring. You grip his forearm out of the blue, bringing him down, large splashes of water escaping the confines of the small pool. "What the fuck?!"

You cling to his back, semi-strangling him. "Do you really think I'll cry cause of one loss? Especially in front of you? Don't make me laugh! You're not that special. Du bist ein Blödian, Blödian, Blödian." You sneer even if he can't see. Well, you really did cry, but you somehow played it off. You didn't know if he believed you or not, but it's not like it mattered.

"To think I actually felt bad for you..." Isagi's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile.

"Don't pity me!"

"You're a sad man, [Last Name]."

"Eat my horseshit."

At the end of the day, Isagi couldn't stand you. But that didn't mean he couldn't stomach you. You were still annoying as hell, though.