#and definitely resulted in quicker writing than if i was writing alone

[deducingcircumference]

your eyes at night

Collaboration with @artycreaty/@fanarain, for the prompt "Ill-Advised Stargazing." Thank you Aina for the wonderful co-writing experience!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Mou, Shinichi, why did you drag me out here in the middle of the night? It’s cloudy and we can’t even see anything.”

She could feel the rough shingles through her shorts as she sat, having followed Shinichi’s lead up a ladder that was surely just looking for the right misplaced breath to break it. Around them, the forest was quiet, with the occasional small rustling that made her shiver. There was no moon. 

“You’ll see,” said Shinichi, settling down beside her. He sounded unbearably smug. “Sake?” He produced a shadowy shape from somewhere in the form of a jug.

“Sake?” Ran looked dubiously at him. “Is that all you brought? Just sake?”

“Of course not,” he chuckled, before gesturing at a basket to his side which she hadn’t seen previously. He reached over with his arm and pulled up a small and thin blanket that was draped onto the top, revealing sandwiches and fruits. “That’s just an appetizer.”

She stared at the basket and then at Shinichi, who was staring back at her, a hand still holding and gesturing at the sake. She just sighed and shook her head in resignation. 

“Sure, why not.”

Feeling reckless, she took the jar and tipped some into her mouth before handing it back to him. She could just make out a pout on his face as he took it from her. 

“Had a bet with myself that you wouldn’t drink,” he said ruefully. “Guess I shoulda known better.” He turned away, tilted his head back, and drank as well.

“Not too much,” Ran admonished. She’d seen her dad stumbling around intoxicated, and had no wish to discover the experience on a slanted rooftop ten meters up. “You still haven’t told me why we’re here.”

Shinichi huffed a laugh, which wasn’t an answer. She heard him rummaging around the picnic basket, and a packet appeared in front of her. “Let’s get comfortable. Egg sandwich?”

She grumbled at the lack of the answer before taking the sandwich off of his hand. “Thank you,” she said as she unwrapped it and then put it in her mouth. She felt Shinichi staring at her as she bit a part of the sandwich, chewing for a bit before swallowing. She blinked down at her hand.

“This is good, really good,” she noted before looking up at him. “Did you make this?”

He grinned, a little smugly. “Of course I did. Impressed?”

She blinked again before giving a grin in return, tilting her head as she did so. “Yes, actually. So impressed that I’m almost proud.”

She was also impressed by herself for wiping that smug grin off of his face. Even in the darkness, she could see him blushing.

His face still slightly shadowed with embarrassment, he reached around and took something else out of the basket. A few seconds later, she heard the crunch of an apple. 

They ate in silence for a bit, till Shinichi wordlessly handed her the sake jug again. Looking down in surprise, Ran realized she had finished her sandwich. She accepted the jug, tilted her head back and poured a more generous stream into her mouth this time. The sweetness of the alcohol lingered on her tongue. 

A breeze started up, rustling through the treetops ahead of them, and Ran shivered, even through her alcohol-induced warmth.

Shinichi must have felt it beside her, because he looked around at her, eyes luminous with concern. “Barou, I told you to bring a warm jacket.”

“I didn’t think we’d be staying outside tonight!” she retorted. “I thought we’d be going from one place to another!” 

He blinked, then deadpanned, “You knew we were still going outside, where it’s colder than the inside. Why didn’t you bring it along?”

“I thought I’d be fine,” she mumbled as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her bent legs. “It’s not that cold. I remember seeing the weather report saying that it would be a little warmer tonight.” She saw Shinichi frown in the corner of her eye, and forced a chuckle. 

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You know I’ve handled much colder temperatures than this.” Even as she said so, she still shivered. She rubbed her hands onto her arms through the thin sleeves to stave off the cold.

He stared at her for a while, before sighing and adjusting to take his jacket off of himself before reaching over and draping his jacket onto her shoulders.

“Eh?” she blinked at the action. “Shinichi?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only helping you because if you catch a cold we’ll both be in trouble.” Despite this, his touch lingered, and eventually he pulled the jacket more tightly around her before letting go. 

It was warm with his body heat, and she snuggled into it without putting her arms through. She leaned against him, warmed by sake on the inside and by Shinichi’s jacket on the outside. “Thanks.”

He cut a glance at her and grunted. The flush was back on his cheeks.

The next moment, though, his hand landed on her opposite shoulder, shaking it as excitedly as a child on a holiday. “Look! It’s happening!”

She followed his pointing finger upward and saw the clouds shifting rapidly, blown about by some high wind. As they shredded, points of light peeked through first, then the vast, pale river of Milky Way was splitting the sky, the constellations beating down thickly on them from all corners of the heavens. 

Ran gasped.

“Shinichi!” she exclaimed in awe. “The stars!”

Indeed. There were bright points of light shining down upon them, connecting with each other in Ran’s eyes, forming constellations. 

“It’s beautiful…” she breathed in awe. “Shinichi, it’s so beautiful!”

“Yeah…” he replied softly. “It really is.”

Somehow she felt that there was something hidden in the words he’d just uttered out, but she was too awed by the stars to take notice. They were bright, so bright she felt like she was being taken into their embrace. She always knew it, but she was still surprised by how vast the heavens were. She was not the only one, she knew. Shinichi was just as enamored by the stars as her.

“Hm?” she blinked. She didn’t know about constellations much, but from what she could remember from books she’s read before, then that group of stars forming a shape was… “Shinichi!”

“Yeah?”

“Look, there!” she pointed towards the night sky. “That one with the three bright stars close together that looks like an uneven triangle with the other stars that look like animal legs…  is that Sagittarius?”

He didn’t answer at first, but when she turned her head to look at him, he was looking along the line of her finger. She heard him swallow before he said roughly, “Of course it is. Don’t you know anything? You’re familiar with the story?” Without waiting for an answer, he launched into it anyway. “In Greek Mythology, there was a centaur named Chiron who was wise and generous…”

Ran knew the myth, perhaps better than Shinichi, but she leaned back against him as he talked, the sake giving her courage to rest her head on his shoulder. This close, she could feel the vibrations of his voice as he spoke, and gradually his arm wrapped around her back, too. She let his voice wash over her as she soaked in the dizzying expanse of the starry sky.

It lasted until he suddenly sneezed.

“I’m alright, I’m alright!” he said when she lifted her head in concern. Then he sneezed again.

Ran shucked the jacket off hurriedly. “My god, why didn’t you say you were cold? We could have switched off, or I could have gone back for another.”

“I’m…I’m no — ACHOO!”

Ran wrapped the jacket back around a sniffling Shinichi. “Maybe we should go back inside.”

“No, no, I’m alright, I’m alright!” he reassured her, before sneezing a fourth time.

Ran stared at him in concern, before shifting onto her knees, her hand landing onto his arm and lightly squeezed. “Shinichi, let's go inside. It’s getting colder.”

“Ran…” he sighed before looking to the side, mumbling, “I wanted to stay longer…”

“Shinichi…” Ran gave a soft smile. “I want to stay, too. The stars are beautiful. But it’s not worth risking our health. And besides,” she chuckled. “We can still see the stars out the window, can’t we?”

He pouted a bit longer but couldn’t refute Ran’s words, so he reluctantly and carefully stood up. He gave Ran a hand, to which she latched onto and stood up herself. Her vision suddenly went blurry and her foot slipped on the slanted rooftop a little.

“Whoa!” Shinichi grabbed hold of her arm to steady her. She instinctively held onto him in return. “Ran! Steady, steady!”

Once she was able to get her sense of balance back in control, she breathed out in relief.

“Thank you, Shinichi. Sorry!” she giggled and rubbed her eyes. “It’s just the sake making me a bit dizzy, is all!”

He stared at her before relaxing a bit but still tense as he let go of her. “Just be careful.”

Even as he said that, she could hear him slurring a little. She giggled again. “I could say the same for yourself!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled softly before carefully bending down and grabbed the picnic basket and the blanket, then handed the latter to Ran, to which she took. He then gestured at the edge of the roof. “Ladies first.”

“Why, thank you,” she curtsied a bit before carefully walking the short steps towards it. She carefully crouched down close to the ladder.

“Be careful,” he cautioned.

She nodded and began climbing down the ladder. Once she reached the stable floor, she stepped away a bit and waited for Shinichi to finish his climb.

“You good?” she asked once he’d found his footing.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go inside!” Ran nodded to the door and walked towards it.

Upon opening it, she went inside before stopping and stared behind her at Shinichi, who was still at the ladder, staring at nothing. “Well? C’mon inside!”

He seemed to snap out of his mind. “Uh, yeah. I’m coming.” He turned around and walked, almost stumbled, towards the door. He looked funny walking like that, and she almost giggled again.

Until Shinichi tripped upon the door frame. “Whoa!”

Ran’s martial arts instincts, blurred as they were by alcohol, kicked in, and she caught Shinichi before he hit the ground.

“Th-thanks,” he muttered once he regained his balance, not looking at her, but he didn’t let go of her, and she didn’t loosen her grip either. He was so nice and solid. The outdoors chill still clung to his clothes, reminding her of the cold, clear loveliness of the night sky. “...Ran,” he said hoarsely, and she felt his hand go snaking through her hair, his other arm returning her embrace.

“Mmm?”

“Did you — did you like tonight? I tried my best.”

“I loved it. Thank you, Shinichi.” She finally drew back to meet his eyes. They were more beautiful than all the galaxies and constellations outside, and she couldn’t help but stand up on her tiptoes and press closer to him — even closer, until their lips touched.

His lips were dry and gentle, and though the kiss was short, in that instant Ran lost herself in the soaring infinitude of the stars themselves. Shinichi’s arms were still wrapped around her, one hand tangled in her hair.

“You know,” he said in a low voice, “we have enough food and snacks to last until dawn. We’re down here anyway, and we can grab extra blankets and a better jacket for you.”

“You mean…”

“Do you want to see the sunrise?”

Anything, Ran thought. Anything to stay near him. On a rooftop, on a darkened landing, on the way to school, in her room with the door shut. Beneath the night sky, beneath a roof, beneath the clouds, beneath the sun and wind and rain.

“I wouldn’t mind,” she heard herself saying. She hit him. “But it had better be good, or else!”

He chuckled. “Of course. What do you take me for?”

Instead of answering, she pecked him on the lips and leaned back a little, grinning. He stood still, blinking, before chuckling again.

“Oh, you cheeky little…” He leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. The kiss left her feeling all tingly and warm. She loved it. She wanted to stay in his embrace like this. Forever. 

But forever couldn’t last. Their lips parted for a much needed air. They stayed close, breathing. Their eyes connected for what seemed like long moments, before they laughed.

“Let’s go in before we miss the sunrise!” she chirped. 

Shinichi nodded, bent down to pick up the basket and thin blanket, and led her inside. 

And so they stayed up all night inside, chatting about everything and nothing, with a few make out sessions, staring at the beautiful night sky until the sunrise. And even then, they still stayed past dawn until both of them inevitably fell asleep.

It was the most beautiful night she’d ever had, and she knew Shinichi felt it too. 

Of course, both of them caught colds and they were chewed out for staying outside for too long. But they wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She was planning on more nighttime dates another time. 

[wosowrites]

Cool Heart, Hot Headed(Lionesses x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️blood, trash talking⚠️

a/n: also, writing this as chelsea are in the FA cup final… LETS FUCKING GO!!! BLUES UNITE. based off this request here (this seriously flopped)

prompt: during the euros, the swedes are playing incredibly dirty and as the reader tries to brush it off, her teammates are very angry and protective of her

Patience. It was definitely your best quality. Yes, you felt anger and disappointment, as well as rage and pain. But you were always patient.

It did come to a shock to your english teammates when Sweden suddenly had it out for you. But it didn’t surprise them that you were as calm as ever.

The Euros semi final had everyone on edge. This was the moment. This was the chance to bring it home. The lionesses needed this. They needed a major trophy for England. The men sure as well weren’t bringing it anywhere near the airport, let alone home.

So it was your chance to make your country, your people proud.

You walked onto that field behind Mary and Leah, sang your national anthem loudly and proudly.

"You look pale," Leah whispered in your ear. "All good cap. Just kinda scared of Björn. She’s giving me looks that make it seem like she wants to kill me," you said, locking eyes with the Swede, smiling lightly and receiving a scowl in return. "Don’t worry about them. They’re all look no game. Don’t tell Magda I said that," Millie said, having overheard.

You nodded and then took the team picture. The girls huddled up, did a cheer and then you took your position as the CAM.

Right off the bat, the game was nail biting. Any english fans watching at home, or in the stadium, surely felt as though something was going to happen. The swedes were coming in strong. But they weren’t attacking anyone as violently, as hard, and with as much resilience and they did to you.

The first hit you took was in the eighth minute. Fridolina Rolfö came out of nowhere. You were scanning your options from the midfield, no one around you. You were taking small touches to move forward, and then out of nowhere you heard "Man on!" and then felt a strong force hit you from behind. You went flying forwards, falling oto the floor with a loud thump. You groaned loudly, rolling onto your back as you heard the referee blow her whistle.

In your mind, that was a yellow, but Rolfö got let off with a warning. Lucy helped you up, brushing grass off your back as you tried to get dirt of your white kit.

Only two minutes later, you were the victim of another attack. This time by Jakobsson. As you turned with the ball and carried it down the middle, you felt your jersey getting tugged from behind, you tried to keep running but the pull made you stumble and fall awkwardly on your shoulder. Sofias momentum was still going, and she tripped over you, leaving a deep clear mark on your thigh.

You could hear scrambled voices of your teammates yelling at the referee who somehow decided the ball was to be given to Sweden. Fran helped you up gently, and you could see Millie trying to calm down Sarina as she was all worked up.

"What did you do to them? they’re going at you hard!" Fran joked. "I don’t know. But it’s okay. It’s fine," you answered calmly, walking towards Elle and Leah who were having a pretty angry talk with the ref.

"Girls! It’s okay. It’s fine. Let’s keep going," you said.

Swedens free kick resulted in nothing, and then you kept moving.

In the thirtieth minute, you were awarded a corner. You took your spot in the box, at the back post, and prepared yourself. The second the ball came in, you tried to jump up, but you felt a hand pushing you. Quicker than you knew it, you had fallen into the net pretty aggressively, your body crashing against the netting.

Zecira Musovic had caught the ball, and looked at you strangely as you struggled to get your cleats undone from the net. "She fucking pushed her! Yes you fucking did. Yes you did," Keira yelled, addressing the ref and then Hannah Glas.

"Keira!" you whispered harshly in her ear, making her turn to look at you and put her arms on your forearms. Most of your team was surrounding you now. "I am okay. Can we play this game please. Let’s go girls," you said sternly. "Y/n… this is getting unsafe," Leah said, concern in her voice. "I don’t care."

For once, you got away with the last word, walking off from the girls as they shared looks of worry.

At the end of the first half, your kit was a mess. There were more brown and green patches than white ones. Your face was dirty and your England kit was absolutely grimey. As you lifted the corner of your shirt, one of the only clean parts, to wipe off dirt from your cheek, you realized how scratched and bruise your stomach was.

You were quick to drop your shirt, hoping no teammates or cameras had picked up on your state.

The second you exited the pitch, Sarina had her arm around you. "You’re a fighter. You know that? I don’t know how you’re not loosing your shit out there," your coach said to you, squeezing your shoulder. "Loosing my shit won’t help anyone. It won’t help us win," you said simply. "That mentality, that’s gonna get us that cup. You hear me?" She said, keeping a hold of you as you both walked into the changing room. The second you walked in, the girls were all talking over each other with worry.

"I’ll kill them!"

"Are you okay?"

"How are you not screaming right now?"

"I don’t know how you’re so patient."

"Are you bruised? Cut? Bloody?"

"I am fine! But I won’t be fine if we don’t win this. So let’s win it," you said, sitting down next to Mary who gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

Sarina went over what we were doing well, and what we weren’t, as you changed your kit into a clean one. You threw the dirty one away and then put your cleats back on as you had chosen to change socks too.

The girls and Sarina left the changing room, leaving you and Leah behind. She had given you a look that said "stay back."

"Listen to me, y/n/n. If you feel unsafe on that field for a second. You tell me, and Sarina will sub you off. Your safety is more important than a trophy. And this team is full of brilliant players, you’re irreplaceable… but what i’m saying is your spot can be… filled in if needed," your captain said. "Leah… we both know how bad you want that trophy," you said to her as you walked out of the room. "Yeah. I do. But I don’t want it enough to sacrifice you for it," Leah said.

"I won’t die, Lee. Let’s play," you said.

You jogged onto the field with her, the stadium erupting at the sight of their skipper and co-skipper.

Sweden seemed to have slowed down a little, on their attack on you, that is. The game was still very much packed with action. They left you along for a solid 30 minutes, which you were immensely grateful for.

But with the 75 minute, came what felt like the 75th foul on you.

Everyone lost their shit.

All, but you.

Everything about Asllani’s tackle was dirty. They way she didn’t even touch the ball. The way foot was way off the ground and her studs were pointed upwards. The way that went she connected with you, and you fell sideways with a scream, she made no attempt to stop her slide, choosing instead to let her studs graze all the way up the side of your leg.

Magda Ericsson had been the only sane Swede on the pitch, rushing toward her midfielder and grabbing her under the arms to pull her off you. She told her off in swedish before trying to check on you. But your team was having nothing of it. Millie gently told the swedish captain, and her club teammate, to back off so she didn’t get yelled at by the lionesses

Your eyes were teary due to the pain of it all. Your leg lay bloody on the turf, the crimson mess of it all starting to trickle down the sides of your thighs. You couldn’t really register the whole thing, but you could see the referee pointing at Asllani and giving her a yellow. But you also saw Leah get one, and Lucy, and then Keira. What were they saying to get them into that mess? "Tell them to stop before we have to play with a man down," you let out to Georgia who was kneeling beside you.

The medics were quick to soak up the blood, revealing a series of cuts made by the studs, but nothing too too serious. "I can keep playing, right?" you asked the medics. "No!" Leah said at the same time as all the other girls let out scattered cries of "no way" and "nuh uh".

"Guys. It’s a cut. It’s fine. I’m sure it was an acc-" you started saying. "No! No it was not an accident. You are too patient at this point, y/n. You need to protect yourself. But if you won’t, I will. You’re going off," Leah said with a sternness you hadn’t seen before.

You held eye contact with her for a while, the air tense. "No. Thirty pounds. Thirty pounds says i’ll score. Don’t take me off, don’t let Sarina sit me on the bench when I can make a difference for this team," you said, standing up, so determined to prove you could stay on the acknowledge the pain you should have been in.

"Fine. Thirty pounds," Leah said.

And then you were playing again, your leg bandaged up, your body in pain, and your mind set. You were everywhere on the pitch. Defending, attacking, demanding a goal. Everyone was shocked, shocked to see you so agressive after being pushed around so much. It just went to show that all your pain and annoyance was fueled into football.

Twenty minutes later, in 90+5, Leah because thirty pounds poorer.

A corner taken by Leah had gotten cleared away by a header, and came straight to you in your position from the outside of the box.

You didn’t think twice. You waited till the ball was perfectly low, and then hit it on the volley. The power on the shot made the ball spin, and it went straight into the goal, hitting the roof of the net.

You screamed loudly, running towards the corner flag, your team chasing after you, and jumping into Ellen’s arms. "LETS FUCKING GO. LETS FUCKING GO!" you screamed at full force.

Ellen let you down and your teammates took turn grabbing your face and kissing your forehead in excitement. The subs were all celebrating around you, and as you ran back to your position, you pumped your first in the air, making the fans screams double somehow.

When the final whistle blew, you cried. Partly of joy, but mostly of pure agony.

Your teammates helped you off the floor, basically carrying you around the field in their arms, making you laugh. But the second you were inside, you let out a shaky cry. Of relief, yes, but of pain. "It’ll be okay. You were amazing, and you’ll be all fixed for Wembley," Leah said, handing you thirty pounds and winking.

[whumpshaped]

What if Helle found Beck after a night of drinking and didn’t know how to act when Beck is overly comfortable with seeing them? Sorry if ooc for Beck

i didnt know whether itd be ooc so i just started writing and let it take me wherever it wanted to lol i hope u enjoy!!!

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, intimate whumper, alcohol and drinking and being drunk, dubcon kissy on cheek

He deserved this. He had been living in terror for the past month, and all he wanted was a bit of fun. Spending time with his friends. Normalcy.

Beck downed his third shot way too quickly, eager to forget about the fact that he was a vampire chewtoy now, and it was likely only a matter of time before Helle decided to escalate. This could've been his last free night! So why not make it a stupidly drunk one?

"I've never seen you drink like that," Sofie said with equal parts awe and worry in her voice. "Is this still about that bite scare?"

"I just wanna have fun," he whined. "Can't I? I'm fine."

"I'd never dream of prohibiting that." She still looked nervous, making Beck groan.

"I haven't been out at night for weeks. I just wanna... relax. I just wanna feel normal for a second." He briefly thought about switching his and Noah's shot glasses while he was in the bathroom and drinking his share too, but he wasn't drunk enough yet to trade mouth germs. "Is that such a crime? I won't, like, drink myself into oblivion."

"You're right," she conceded. "I'm not your mother or anything. I'm sure you can look after yourself."

"Thank you. I'll be responsible."

He ended up being less than responsible, buying and consuming at least three more shots. There was no stopping the constant whirling and swirling of the bar anymore, and he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open — but the spinning got so much worse whenever he closed them.

He somehow managed to pay for everything before sliding off the bar stool and heading towards the exit, never considering that it was well past midnight and the crowd outside was thinning. Thoughts of vampires were drowned out by a sudden desire for some pizza, and he decided to try to get to a restaurant he'd been to exactly one time before and gotten lost on the way. He had even been sober, then.

"Oh, goddammit... It should be right here," he muttered, staring at the closed clothing store. "Would it even be open at this hour..?"

"Beck?"

The vampire's voice cut through the drunken haze like a dagger, and he spun around to face them with such momentum that he almost lost his balance entirely. "Helle!" His back hit the locked glass doors of the shop behind him, and he was grateful for the added support. "I'm– I'm looking for the pizza place. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, huh?"

Helle tilted their head at him in curiosity, and he really wished he could've waved a magic wand and sobered up instantly. They had already fed for the night. They were supposed to leave him alone for the rest of it. "Do you drink often?" they asked, completely disregarding his question.

He couldn't help it when he just... laughed. It was an involuntary reaction, a result of his anxiety and the absurdity of the situation. "I don't think that's any of your business!" He flinched back immediately after saying it, cursing himself internally. "Well, I mean, it's not like– y'know, I'm just saying..."

"It is definitely my business. Do you even know how bitter alcohol makes the blood?" They stalked closer, and Beck quickly tried to slip away and continue walking down the street.

"Nope! And you absolutely don't have to put yourself through that!" He almost cursed out loud this time when Helle caught up to him, casual as ever. "Really, I'm just gonna– you know what? I really don't want pizza anymore. I'm gonna– I'm gonna head home. It was great seeing you–"

He did a swift 180, swift enough to stumble and trip over his own feet again, for real this time. Helle was quicker, catching him by the arm before he even realised he was falling. "Humans baffle me sometimes," they murmured. "Your solution to being pursued by a dangerous predator is to make yourself even more vulnerable?"

"No, no, I drank all that alcohol so you'd hate the taste of my blood. I totally knew about the bitterness. This is like– this is advanced, I wouldn't expect you to understand." He pulled on his arm weakly, not even surprised when it did nothing to make Helle release him. "Sorry, I'm just saying anything at this point," he added with a nervous little laugh. "I always do that. I shouldn't be allowed to drink. Hey, how about– what if you let go of me, and then, then I went home, and we just forgot about this?"

"I wish I could." They pulled him even closer, their amused smile greatly undermining their semi-serious tone. "But you are just adorable when you cannot shut up. Not to mention how warm you are right now... flushed... I think you should drink more, actually."

Beck could feel his face getting even warmer at the closeness. A misguided, touch-starved part of him recognised Helle's words as almost flattery, and desperately wanted to just lean into it. The other, rational, sober part of him wanted to run — but it was difficult with his limbs not complying. "You d-don't actually think that," he stammered, still making futile attempts at pushing the vampire away. "I get so annoying."

They must've realised how much he wanted them to deny that, because their smile widened, red eyes gleaming with mischief. "I do think that," they purred. "I always think you are cutest when you tell the truth. When you let that blatant need for praise shine right through."

"I don't– I don't... huh?" He was properly flustered now, so much so that he forgot he was supposed to be struggling. "Stop mocking me," he said without any conviction, so quiet that it could've easily gotten lost in the noise of the street. He knew they heard it, though. A perk of talking to vampires.

God, what was he thinking?

"I would never dream of mocking you. Not when you look so pretty and desperate." His breath hitched when they leaned in, pulling him closer by his shirt to press a kiss to his cheek. "Unless you asked me to, of course. But I thought you were trying to get away," they whispered. "Why are you clinging now?"

Beck had no idea when his fingers had gotten tangled up in the fabric of Helle's sweater, and he pushed them away instantly, thoroughly embarrassed and confused. "I'm g-going home," he exclaimed, waiting for Helle to stop him, or say something that would've made him change his mind, or... something. But they didn't. They just stood there, smiling, letting Beck look like a complete idiot.

"Do you secretly live here?" they teased. "Or would you like to spend some more time with me?"

"Absolutely not. I'm– I'm going. Bye." He turned to leave, getting out of there as fast as he could. He rubbed his cheek absentmindedly with the sleeve of his hoodie the entire way to the bus station, trying to get rid of the feeling of soft lips against his skin.

He really, truly shouldn't have been allowed to drink.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs

[yanderes-galore]

And one more for the Outer Worlds, as you likely expected someone to ask, could you please write a romantic rivalry with Felix and Vicar Max? I know they don’t even have solo concepts yet, but their relationship in the game is too fascinating to not expand on. Two men who are already down to toss each other out an airlock as soon as the captain looks away? Surely adding romantic tension won’t hurt anyone!

- 📸 anon

Ohhhh, I like how you think! Here you go :) I hope everything is in character! Sorry if it's short, I didn't have a lot of plot ideas ^^;

Yandere! Felix vs Yandere! Vicar Max

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Jealousy, Yandere rivalry, Violence, Threats, Drug use mentioned once, Blood, Sabotage mention, Dubious relationships.

I will admit these two have a very interesting relationship.

Usually it seems to stem from Felix's hate for the Corporation and Max's religion.

As a result they often argue with one another.

Now imagine the chaos caused when the two fall for the same person?

Could be with the captain... could be someone the captain hired...

Either way the two start to develop feelings for you.

I will admit the rivalry would be worse before Max went on his spiritual enlightenment journey.

Before Max's companion quest, he was much quicker to resort to violence and more irritable/arrogant.

This version of Max would pick fights with Felix more.

Except Felix is actually the one picking the fights more.

Max tries to be more mature in front of you, but it irritates him when he hears Felix run his mouth about you.

Felix thinks you'd want more of a rebel as a partner, while Max feels you'd want a more intellectual partner.

Felix definitely tries hard to impress you with his physical fighting capabilities.

Meanwhile Max helps you see the science side of things.

Honestly who's "right" for you comes down to preference.

Not that it stops them from fighting.

Regardless on what you prefer they definitely still pick fights.

It rarely gets overly violent but I feel it can border on it.

Felix likes to taunt Max, telling him how you definitely prefer him over the Vicar (even if you don't)

Max usually retorts with something back, ever so slightly holding back his rage and urge to deck the younger companion.

If you are a companion of the captain, the two try to convince the captain to take you and one of them on a mission.

That way one of them gets alone time with you and a chance to impress you.

If you are the captain and you happen to have them both as your companions, they're bickering.

You'd have to tell them off if you want peace.

The two probably fight if you leave them alone, maybe one time you come back to The Unreliable only to see them have a bit of blood on them.

The two know better than to kill one another, hopefully, but they never seem to get along when it comes to you.

They also don't consider kidnapping you, they care about you so there's no need to stress you out.

They still are... but whatever.

After Max's trip to enlightenment with the aid of drugs/incense, he's calmer but still shows irritable behavior towards Felix.

Especially if Felix keeps taunting him about you.

Even if you do choose one or the other, who's to say they won't keep fighting?

Now the game has changed slightly, who can ruin the other's relationship faster.

It's still a game of sabotage... one that feels never-ending to you.

When it comes to a rivalry between them... there won't be any peace...

Especially if one keeps the fire of the fighting going continuously (Felix).

[t0wnspersonb]

Better Off As Lovers (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Word Count: 5,076

Warnings: SMUT, oral (female receiving), bad language, my shit writing

~~~~

salty4tsukki

said:

hello! i luv ur blog sm!! can i pls req a scenario (or hc if that’s easier) of tsukki and reader going from enemies to lovers? perhaps reader ended up doing tsukki a solid that saved his ass and that marked the turning point of their relationship? sfw+nsfw if that’s oki!! tysm in advanced :-)

~~~~

Here is some spice for you guys. I hope you like it, I had a lot of fun writing it lol. Tsukishima is such a fucking prick, I absolutely love it. @salty4tsukki​ I hope this was what you had wanted, also thank you so much for your support! Requests are closing tomorrow! I’m slowly but surely making my way through all of the requests and writing stuff up. I should probably be focusing on school but ya girl is avoiding responsibilities right now lmao. I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend!😚😚😚

~~~~

“You’re literally the fucking worst.” you hissed; eyes narrowed into slits. “I bet hell gave you back to earth because you’re worse than Satan himself.”

 All you got in response was a raise of a blonde eyebrow and an ignorant smirk.

 “You want to get hit? Is that what you’re asking for?” You threatened, holding your fist up for emphasis.

 You had never been more upset; in all honesty you probably wouldn’t have been this annoyed about the situation if it was someone else. 

 But because it was him, you knew that it was intentional, it wasn’t an accident as everyone else was making it seem.

 “Now, now…” Koganegawa said, stepping between the two of you. “Tsukki didn’t know that was your dessert. It was an honest mistake.”

 “That’s not an honest mistake Kanji!” You screeched. “I literally told everyone how excited I was to finally get my hands on that famous strawberry shortcake from that bakery! I got the last slice and he went and ate it!” you pointed at the tall blonde accusingly; who’s smirk was growing wider and wider as you wailed about the unfairness of it all.

 “Can’t you just go get another one?” Kyoutani huffed, rolling his eyes from his spot on the floor.

 “They’re famous for a reason Kentarou! I had to get up super early to stand in line! And even then, the line was super long! I waited for hours! You think I’m going to do that again!?” You were all but hysterical now.

 You might have already been having a rough day though, and your missing cake was the cherry on top to it all.

 The soft huff of a laugh caused you to whirl around, your tiny fists coming up to hit Tsukishima on his chest repeatedly.

 “You’re the fucking worst!” you huffed out, frustrated tears springing to your eyes. The tall blonde was full on laughing at you now, much to your embarrassment and anger.

 You couldn’t lie, it was a tad bit irrational to get so upset over a missing slice of cake. But it was a long sucky day, you were looking forward to that delicious morsel of strawberry goodness after practice, and it wasn’t fucking there.

 “You’re so weak,” Tsukishima mused, easily grasping your hands in his large ones, preventing you from hitting him further.

 Despite his rude words, his grip was surprisingly gentle. 

 You still ripped your hands away from his in anger. 

 “Don’t touch me, you thief.” You growled, cradling your hands against your chest, eyes glaring into the tall male.

 “You’re so annoying. I already apologized.” Tsukishima said, stretching his arms above his head. 

 “An apology won’t bring back my cake!” You snapped, grabbing your stuff from the floor. “You’re the worst Tsukishima. Let’s go already, Kentarou.” You huffed.

 The said male rolled his eyes before saying goodbye to his teammates, following you out of the gym.

 You were still fuming quietly as you two walked home together.

 Funnily enough, you had developed a close friendship with the small male, which resulted in him walking you home since he lived close by. 

 “I hate him.” You whined, tugging at the bottom of Kyoutani’s team jacket.

 He swatted your hand away, causing you to whine again, reaching for him once more, he sighed in irritation but let you hold onto his jacket this time.

 “You guys just need to fuck already.” He said.

 You stopped walking; causing Kyoutani to be yanked back since you were holding onto his jacket. 

 “What the fuck Y/n?” He growled.

 “I would never in a million years have sex with someone like him.” You said, face twisting in disgust.

 Kyoutani had definitely lost his mind with that comment. Tsukishima was your enemy, your opposite half, the worst person that you have ever met, there was just no way.

 “Are you serious?” He asked deadpanned. “It’s so disgustingly obvious you two like each other.” 

 You rolled your eyes at him, releasing his jacket from your grasp as you guys continued walking. “You’re blind Kentarou, we hate each other.”

 “I think you’re the one who’s blind Y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow for morning practice.” he said waving goodbye to you as you entered your home.

 The rest of your night was plagued with thoughts of Tsukishima, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth despite the fact that you had brushed your teeth.

 There was no way that Tsukishima liked you, nor you him. You did find him incredibly attractive, but who wouldn’t? He was tall and muscular, incredibly intelligent, and he was a good volleyball player. 

 Of course, people would find him attractive, but his personality was anything but, to you at least.

 Your first ever interaction with him was entirely unpleasant, his mocking attitude and sarcastic comments left you with the worst impression of him, and it resulted in how you felt about him now.

 But then… What did Kyoutani mean about you being blind?

 You screamed loudly into your pillow.

 ****

 “You look terrible.” Tsukishima raised his eyebrow at you, taking in your disheveled form.

 “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” You muttered, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. 

 Tsukishima was actually quiet for once, somehow you had missed the flash of concern that shot through his eyes.

 That didn’t go unnoticed by Kyoutani, who rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath how dense both of you were.

 Practice ran smoothly, there surprisingly wasn’t any sarcastic comments directed at you from Tsukishima. For the most part, he left you alone today, much to your relief.

 Now you were currently in one of the history classes you were a TA in. Between managing a volleyball team, and being a teaching assistant, it was no wonder you were always stressed out.

 Funnily enough, Tsukishima was one of the students in that class. 

 “We’re going to hand back your midterm essays now.” The professor announced. You grabbed the papers from your folder and started walking around the class handing them back to the nervous students.

 Your brows furrowed as you had realized that you only held three more papers in your hand, you hadn’t even given Tsukishima’s - oh. Your eyes widened slightly as you looked over at the tall male, he looked irritated, his eyes finding yours, there was a slight shake to his head.

 He had never turned in the essay. 

 That’s right, the essay was due around the same time that volleyball practices were incredibly strenuous in preparation for some important matches.

 But the midterm essay counted as a large portion of the grade, which meant that if Tsukishima received a zero, then he would fail the class, which meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to play volleyball any -

 “I seemed to have made a mistake Professor.” You said. “I think I lost Tsukishima’s paper…”

 What were you doing?

 Shit, you could get in big trouble for this so why were you doing this?

 “It’s not like you to be scatterbrained like this Y/n.” the Professor shook his head. “I swear you take on too many tasks, between this and being a team manager… Tsukishima, do you mind turning in the paper again to Y/n? Let us say… by the end of the day?”

 “It’s no problem sir.” Tsukishima said quietly, eyes glancing over to you as you finished handing out the last of the essays.

 “I’m sorry Tsukishima, I hope you can forgive me.” You said sweetly, bowing at him slightly.

 What the fuck?

 What the actual fuck were you doing?

 Tsukishima was taken back by your tone and your show of respect towards him, that was new. 

 That was… shit was he blushing? He ignored the creeping heat in his face and the slightly quicker thump of his heart. He pushed his glasses up slightly. “It’s not a problem.” he said quietly.

 You nodded at him once more as you made your way back towards the front of the room, ignoring the rising blush in your own face and the racing of your own heart. You got lucky that the professor really took a liking to you as his TA, you could get away with murder when it came to this class.

 Tsukishima was incredibly lucky as well, he was the top student in this class, never missed any assignments, always participated in class, so of course the professor was going to be more lenient with him.

 No one would have ever guessed that he had never turned in his midterm, except you.

 That was something that you didn’t understand, why would you help him out? 

 It was because he was just part of your team, right? You were doing this because you wanted your team to succeed right? He was one of the best players you had, so if you lost him that would hurt the team… that was why, right?

 Or maybe… maybe Kyoutani was right.

 Maybe, just maybe, by chance you actually did harbor a small attraction to the tall blonde.

 ****

 The rest of the day was seemingly uneventful, and you found yourself wrapping up the evening volleyball practice.

 “Hey.” an all too familiar voice called out, a sudden shadow being cast over your small form as you began picking up the volleyballs on the floor.

 You glanced up to see Tsukishima looking down at you, curiosity clear in his gold eyes.

 “What is it?” You asked, ignoring the quickening of your heart. What was wrong with you?

 “Why did you do that?” he asked, beginning to pick up the balls.

 “What do you mean?” You sighed tiredly, you just wanted to go home. You had no energy left in your body to argue with the snarky male before you.

 “You knew that I didn’t turn in the paper… why did you lie to the professor like that?” He asked quietly.

 “Well…” your eyes slid over to him before looking down at the ball in your hands. “I knew that the professor would cut you some slack since you are one of his favorite students… plus… it would be bad if you got a zero, right? You would’ve failed the class…” You trailed off, your eyes glancing back up at him, taking notice to the small smirk that began to cover his lips.

 “- and we can’t afford to lose one of our players! You’re tall and stupid but you’re a decent player so that’s why I did it! I didn’t want to hurt the team just because you were being stupid and forgetful!” You said, voice annoyed as you all but slammed the volleyball into his arms. “Hurry up and put those away, I want to go home.” you huffed, stalking away.

 You hadn’t noticed the small smile that overtook his face as he watched you walk away.

 “Are you ready to go?” You asked once you guys had finished cleaning up, Kyoutani nodded, grabbing his bag from the floor.

 “Hold on.” a hand grabbed the back of your jacket, yanking you back into a warm and broad chest.

 You blinked up to see Tsukishima peering down at you, eyebrows raised. 

 You could feel your face burn at his proximity and as you stumbled away from him. 

 “W-What is it now?” You stuttered out.

 “Here. Professor said to give it to you by the end of the day. I just had to reprint it out.” he said, handing you his midterm.

 Your eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you actually did the assignment?”

 “It was already done, I just forgot to submit it.” he said, shrugging.

 “And I thought you were just lazy and didn’t do it at all.” You said in awe, eyes skimming through the papers.

 “Don’t put me in with the likes of you.” he snorted, eyes rolling, although there was an unseen fondness swimming within those golden orbs, unseen to you at least. It was entirely apparent to Kyoutani who seemed to have a larger scowl on his face.

 “Shut up stupid! I’m going to grade your paper harshly now!” you hissed, glaring at him.

 “You can try,” he drawled out. “But I did the assignment perfectly. I shouldn’t get anything less than an A.”

 “We’ll see.” you snapped.

 ****

 “Stupid Tsukishima. Does he have to be perfect at everything?” You grumbled to yourself as you finished grading his paper.

 He was right.

 He did the assignment perfectly.

 You shouldn’t have said anything to the professor, especially if he was going to be so smug about it.

 Why was he so infuriating? 

 You could see the flash of his smirk behind your lids when you blinked, it caused your heart to race, your fist to clench tightly together. You just wanted to slap that stupid smirk off of his stupid gorgeous face and -

 Damn it.

 It seemed like recently your thoughts were completely consumed by him. 

 “Speak of the devil.” You muttered to yourself when you noticed who was calling you.

 “What do you want?” You hissed.

 “Oh, good you are awake.” His rang smoothly through the speaker.

 “Yeah because I stayed up late to grade your midterm, so I didn’t have to worry about it over the weekend.” You huffed, sitting back in your chair.

 “Well what’s the verdict?” he asked smugly. 

 You could feel your nostrils flaring in anger at his tone. “You got an A. Which is surprising to me since you’re the biggest moron that I know.” 

 “I already told you not to lump into the same category as you.” 

 “I’m hanging up now.” you announced, your blood boiling at his comment.

 “Wait. Go open your door.” he demanded.

 You frowned. “Why would I do that?”

 “Just do it and hurry up.” you could all but see his eyes rolling.

 You huffed angrily, stalking over to your front door, and yanking it open to reveal the blonde male smirking at you.

 You could feel your brows furrow as you tried to register what was happening.

 Tsukishima, your enemy, was standing at the front of your home, cladded in his team jacket and joggers, and he was holding a bag.

 “Took you long enough.” he said, removing the phone from his ear and stepping past you into your home.

 He was already removing his shoes and placing them on the shoe rack near your front door, heading towards your kitchen.

 “Are you just going to stand there all night?” he called out, never looking back.

 That comment snapped you out of your confusion, you quietly closed the door, following after the blonde that was beginning to make tea like he was in his own home and not someone else's.

 “What are you doing?” You asked quietly, eyes following his every movement. 

 “Just be quiet and sit down.” he said simply, and for some reason… you actually listened.

 You wracked your brain for all the reasons as to why Tsukishima was in your home this late at night, using your kitchen.

 You snapped back to reality when he placed a plate and a mug in front of you. 

 Your eyebrows raised slowly, but you couldn’t help the twinkle in your eyes as you gazed at the treat before you.

 A slice of cake, but the strawberry shortcake from that bakery to be exact. The sweetness of the strawberries and cream, along with the earthy scent of the tea, caused a delicious warmth to swell up in your body.

 “How did you -”

 “It’s a thank you.” he cut you off, pulling up a chair across from you, tea and cake sitting in front of him. “For helping me out with the paper.”

 You couldn’t help the smile that began to stretch across your lips, Tsukishima seemed shy almost, embarrassed maybe? Whatever it was, it was a pleasant change from his usual scowl and smirk.

 “Did you wait long?” you asked quietly, carefully cutting into the cake. “They aren’t even open at this hour…”

 “No, the line wasn’t too bad, I went after practice finished.” he said, glancing over at you. It was a partial lie, Tsukishima did wait a long time, but he did go after practice had finished.

 “Why did you wait this long to come over then?” you asked, sighing in pleasure as you took a bite.

 There was a reason why this bakery was so famous for their strawberry shortcake, it was the best cake you had ever had.

 “I thought you might’ve been too busy in the evening, since you promised coach you would hand in those data forms tomorrow… and the in class activity we did today… you said you would grade tonight and get it back to us Monday…” he trailed off quietly, cutting into his slice.

 You blinked at him, the thumping in your heart increasing.

 Since when was he so observant with you?

 “Since always. You’ve just never noticed.” he said, gold eyes boring into your own.

 You could feel your face heating up, shit, did you really ponder that aloud?

 What was this feeling bubbling up in your gut? It burned and turned pleasantly the longer you stared at him.

 A sudden shyness washed over you as you broke eye contact, eyes casting back down to the cup of tea that was now resting between your hands.

 “O-Oh.” 

 It was silent again, it wasn’t awkward, but there was definitely something lingering heavily in the air.

 You just couldn’t place your finger on it.

 “You have something…” Tsukishima began to say, suddenly reaching over, his strong fingers gently grasped your chin, tilting it up, thumb beginning to brush at the corner of your lips.

 Without even thinking about it, your tongue darted out, swiping across his thumb, tasting the saltiness of his skin and the sweetness of the cream that had lingered at the corner of your mouth.

 Tsukishima’s eyes darkened considerably; air rushing out of his nose as he exhaled deeply. His thumb rubbing against your lower lip. 

 Your eyes glazed over, lips parting slightly, inviting him entrance to your mouth. Tsukishima’s thumb pushed past your lips, resting on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, your tongue gently running along the pad of his thumb.

 You could feel the blood roaring in your ears, your stomach twisting in arousal.

 “Fuck.” he whispered, the sound of a chair being pushed back, his thumb leaving the wetness of your mouth.

 It all happened so fast, by the time you had opened your eyes Tsukishima was hauling you out of your chair and up on the counter. His large hand grasped your face firmly before slamming his lips against yours.

 You gasped, allowing his tongue to snake his way in, exploring every inch of your wet cavern.

 You couldn’t help the moan that tore through your throat, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders, fingers sliding into the blonde locks at the back of his head, your legs wrapping around his hips.

 Fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. He was everywhere, warm and solid against your body; all you could smell was him, all you could taste was him and fuck did he taste good. You could still taste the sweetness of cream on his tongue, the tartness of the strawberries, and him.

 It was intoxicating.

 You were drowning in everything that was Tsukishima and fuck did you like it. The way his big hands gripped at your face, your waist, pulling you closer, kissing you deeper, it was too much.

 But it also wasn’t enough.

 “What are you - ahh - what are you doing?” you whimpered out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he trailed his hot lips against your throat, sucking and biting at every inch of it.

 “What do you think I’m doing you idiot?” he breathed against the shell of your ear. He grinded his hips against yours causing the loud moan to escape your lips, he was hard against you.

 “I don’t…” you whined softly as he grabbed your hips, pressing you tightly against his crotch, grinding against you sinfully. “I don’t understand… Tsukki… Kei.” you whined again, hips bucking up on their own, aching for more friction.

 Fuck you were so wet, so hot and bothered, you needed him to touch you more.

 “Fuck.” he hissed out, eyes squeezing tightly together as you whined out his name. “Fuck… you’re so infuriating. You still don’t get it do you?” he growled out, nipping at your lobe as his ragged breathing increased. 

 You couldn’t muster up any words, all that escaped your lips was a drawn-out moan as one of his hands reached up and massaged one of your breasts harshly. 

 “I like you, Y/n. I’ve liked you since the very beginning. But you never… fuck…” he hissed as you slipped a hand under his shirt, nails dragging against his smooth skin. You could feel the muscles of his stomach flexing beneath your touch, the pace of his hips increasing against yours.

 “You never noticed.” he finally growled out, reaching up and yanking your shirt off your body. “The only time you ever paid attention to me was when I made you mad, you simple minded woman. It’s so easy to get you riled up…” he kissed you harshly now, teeth knocking together before he bit into your lip harshly, causing your nails to dig further into his chest.

 “But then in class when you lied straight-faced to the professor… and then when you looked at me with that sweet expression, and those wide eyes… I couldn’t help but wonder what other kinds of faces you can make for me.” he finished quietly. His breathing was labored, and his lips were swollen but the intensity of his gaze caused your body to squirm.

 “What do you say?” he asked, his voice deep and rough, his grip on you was still tight, but his hips had stilled, he was pulled back slightly from you, allowing you space to breathe.

 “Please.” You whimpered out, tears springing up in your eyes, you were too riled up now, body too hot and aching for release.

 You needed him. You needed Tsukishima to touch you more, you needed him to whisper filth into your ear, you needed to feel his skin sliding against yours, and most of all, you needed him be buried deep inside of you.

 “I need to hear you say it Y/n.” He grasped your jaw, angling your face up to his as he stared down at you. “Say it.”

 You could feel your lower lip quivering, you were aching for it, aching for him. “Kei please! Just - just fuck me already!” you wailed. “What are you waiting for!? Just fuck m-” he yanked you off of the counter, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he carried you to your couch, dropping you down haphazardly before his hands were everywhere, ripping the clothes off your body until you were completely bare.

 He stared shamelessly at your nakedness, eyes running over every curve of your body. His hands rested on your bent needs, pulling them open and staring openly at your glistening cunt.

 “Don’t look.” you whimpered, moving one of your hands to cover yourself up. He easily knocked your hand away.

 “Don’t hide yourself from me.” he said as he moved to remove the rest of his clothing. 

 Tsukishima was beautiful, long, and lean, his muscular frame exposed to your greedy eyes as you scanned his body.

 Your lips trembled at the sight of his stiff member, leaking precum and standing painfully tall.

 He grasped his cock lazily, his hand easily sliding up and down his shaft as he gazed down at you. His other hand reached down to gather the obscene amount of wetness that was gathering between your legs.

 “You’re soaked,” he moaned, eyes flashing dangerously. “You want me to fuck you? Or do you want me to taste you?”

 You could feel your mouth run dry at his questions.

 Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, his large hand coming down to swat at your thigh. You gasped the stinging sensation, your arousal spiking dramatically.

 “Answer me.” he demanded.

 Your lips trembled, eyes glazing over with unshed tears, you were so pent up, you needed something, anything that would provide you with some kind of release. 

 It was only for a moment, but there was a flash of gentleness, the hand that had swatted at your thigh rubbed at the skin tenderly. 

 “You’re so beautiful.” he said quietly, and then he was moving to situate himself between your legs, grasping at your thighs before his head ducked down and his hot tongue licked a strip up your soaked slit until it rested on your clit.

 You moaned loudly; your head being thrown back as your body trembled with pleasure.

 His tongue lapped lazily against you, flickering up and down against that swollen bundle of nerves, occasionally dipping further down, sliding into your entrance, tasting you completely before sliding back up.

 It didn’t take long for you to get close to your orgasm. Your body was taut, aching for release. It was too much almost; your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, you couldn’t tell if you were pushing him away or pulling him closer.

 All you knew was that he was giving you everything right now. Tsukishima pulled your clit into his mouth now, sucking hard, his front teeth gently brushing against it.

 Your legs were tense, thighs quacking as you approached your release, the quiet room was filled with your drawn out moans and pants, wet slurping noises escaping your lower half as Tsukishima all but devoured your cunt completely.

You came with a cry, body convulsing against the cushions of the couch, thighs trying to close together, squeezing tightly against Tsukishima’s head. You whimpered brokenly as you tried to wiggle yourself away from the blonde that was still sucking at your clit, but his grip was tight, refusing to let you go, forcing your over sensitive cunt to produce another orgasm.

 In the midst of it all, he yanked himself away, lining his stiff cock against your swollen entrance and then snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself inside of you completely.

 A loud cry tore through your lips, you were still in the middle of your orgasm when he entered, your slick gushing out around him and spilling onto the cushions below.

 “Are you gonna cum again?” he breathed watching you in awe as you struggled to adapt to his size.

 “Fuck you are.” he moaned, your tight walls fluttering around him as your third one ripped through your body. “I can’t believe you came again just from me entering you.” he breathed out, hands resting on your hips.

 Tsukishima gave you no time to adjust, his hips snapping forward harshly as he set a brutal pace.

 You could feel your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your fingers gripping at the couch, needing something, anything to hold on to.

 His cock rubbed against your walls perfectly, your body having no time to keep up with his movement, the stretch burned, the pleasure toe curling. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper, keeping him closer.

 Suddenly your world shifted, Tsukishima hauled your body up, forcing you to sit on top of his thick member. You cried out loudly, this new position caused his cock to rub up inside of you at a new angle.

 He never stopped, his large hands gripped at your hips now, forcing you up and down as you rode him, his hips snapping up to meet the downwards roll of your hips.

 All you could do was grip at his broad shoulders weakly, struggling to keep up with his pace, struggling to adjust to the new depth that he reached within you.

 But you couldn’t. You could hardly breathe, you couldn’t think of anything except for Tsukishima and the pleasure he was giving you.

 “Look at you.” he groaned, eyes never leaving your face. “You make the sweetest faces when I’m inside of you.”

 “Kei…” You sobbed. “Please.”

 You weren’t sure what you were asking for at this point, the pleasure was mind numbing, the room was filled with sounds of your moans and his grunts, the wet squelching noises of your cunt as it was being stuffed over and over again was something that might’ve embarrassed you if you had the time to even think about it. 

 But you didn’t, all you could think about was unraveling again, all you could think about Tsukishima Kei. Your enemy, the most annoying man you had ever met, but he was also the most intelligent man you had ever met, the most beautiful man you had ever met, and now he was the only man that you ever wanted to receive pleasure from. 

 You came again with a loud sob, gushing around him, dripping onto his upper thighs, body trembling against his as you collapsed on top of his chest.

 He groaned your name loudly, thrusting up sharply into your cunt once more before spilling himself into your hot center. 

 It felt like time had stopped around you as you struggled to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long it was that you guys stayed like this.

 But you have never been more tired, more comfortable in your entire life than right now.

 You could feel your eyes drooping down, your face buried into the crook of his neck, his long fingers gently tracing delicate patterns into the skin of your back.

 Tsukishima shifted, easily picking you up, your legs wrapped around his waist, his member still buried deep inside of you. You vaguely remember answering his question about where the bathroom was and soon you found yourself perched up on the bathroom counter. 

 You could feel his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, trickling down your leg as he gently cleaned you up. You didn’t even remember how you ended up in your bed, but now you were curled up against the tall blonde, wrapped up in the security of his arms as he rubbed your back gently.

 “I still hate you Kei.” you mumbled against his chest, sighing softly before pressing your lips into his smooth skin.

 “I know.” he smirked against your hair, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “Go to sleep. We’ll go and get breakfast tomorrow.”

 Okay maybe you didn’t hate him, but he was still infuriating to you. 

[storiesforallfandoms]

my lady ~ geralt of rivia

word count: 1615

request?: yes!

“hello, could you write something where geralt gets really jealous because someone (jaskier or a random) flirts with the reader and he shows her who she belongs to? rough smut please!”

description: while travelling with a group to slay a monster, a pretentious king to be tries to flirt with geralt’s lady, leading to the witcher becoming very jealous

pairing: geralt of rivia x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

You loved to travel with Geralt. You liked to see him in action, slaying monsters, but you also loved to be there to help him relax after a long day of fighting. After the ballad written by the exhausting Bard that had latched himself on to Geralt, many started coming to the Witcher to ask for help with finding and slaying monsters. This led to you, Geralt, and Jaskier becoming part of a group travelling to find some sort of monster that had been terrorizing kingdom after kingdom for nearly a whole year.

The king that was leading the team, a young man who had recently been put into the power, was determined to find this monster and to kill it himself. Apparently doing so would result in a great reputation for him. But his men insisted on looking to Geralt for help, which was definitely a much better idea than to wander aimlessly looking for a creature that they didn’t even know what it was.

Despite the constant urging of the king to keep going, the group decided to stop for the night to get some rest. They set up their tents and a small fire while one of the king’s men went to find some meat to roast over the fire. Geralt was sat next to you, his golden eyes glaring at the egocentric king.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Geralt muttered. “Him and his men. What kind of reputation will he have then?”

“The one he deserves,” you responded. “The best we can hope for is he puts up some kind of fight instead of dying like a pussy.”

This brought a slight smile to Geralt’s face. “You could kill a monster twice his size quicker and easier than he could. He’d probably shit himself and run away before being eaten.”

You giggled. “I don’t think a monster would want a feast that tastes like shit. Probably would just rip him to shreds and leave his remains for his men to find. That would be a legacy for him.”

Geralt actually laughed at this, which caused you to laugh as well. Your laughter was noticed by the king, and the moment you both realized he had saw you, you quickly stopped.

“What are you two laughing about?” he demanded.

“Just reminiscing on old tales we’ve been told,” Geralt responded. “Have you ever heard of the one about the king who didn’t know how to fight?”

“Geralt,” you warned softly.

The king and Geralt held a prolonged staring contest as the king lowered himself to sit across from the two of you in front of the fire.

“I have not,” he responded. “What is so funny about that? A king should know how to fight.”

“Well, that is the thing,” Geralt explained. “This king claimed that he knew how to fight, and was willing to prove it however he could. He fought many a knight and always won, but he didn’t take that as a real victory. He was sure that they were throwing the fights as not to upset him. He said he wanted a real challenge, so he and some of his men went into the woods looking for the fiercest, most dangerous monster they could find.”

The king was on the edge of his feet, engrossed in Geralt’s fake story. You had to hold back a giggle at the anticipation on his face.

“Did they find one?” the king asked. “What happened? Did the king slay the beast?”

“No,” Geralt responded, plainly. “They found the monstrous beast, but the king insisted on fighting it alone. Hours later, his men realized he still had not returned, so they went looking for him. All they found were his remains, which smelled like shit.”

You buried your head in Geralt’s shoulder to muffle your laughter. Geralt smirked at the king, who looked shocked at the ending of the story.

“I don’t think that’s a very funny story,” he huffed. “Quite morbid actually.”

“It is what men like him deserve,” Geralt told him. “A man should not boast about things he is unable to do, and certainly should not drag his men into battles that they will surely lose.”

The king was now glaring at Geralt. You were sure he was starting to realize that Geralt’s story had been a joke in his expense all along, and you weren’t sure how the king would react upon realizing this.

His eyes drifted to you. You shuffled uncomfortably, looping one arm through Geralt’s and holding him tightly.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady,” he said. His voice was more calm than you expected, and you weren’t sure if that scared you more or not.

You gave him a small smile and softly responded, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“It is such a shame that your beauty is wasted on a man like the Witcher here.”

Geralt tensed against you. You squeezed his arm again, trying to calm him down. You refused to meet the king’s eye as he stood and approached the two of you.

“I do mean it, my lady,” he said as he lowered himself to be level with you. You looked down at the ground to avoid his gaze. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I have been infatuated with your beauty. I have never met a woman quite as beautiful as you. If you’d let me, I would love to shower you with anything and everything you could ever want.”

You flinched as you felt his hand softly caress your face. This was enough for Geralt, who stood quickly and drew his sword. The king’s men came to attention then, surrounding Geralt with their weapons pointed towards him. The king was still in front of you, stupidly waiting for your answer.

You glared at him before responded, “Get the fuck out of my face.”

His face fell then, quickly turning to anger as he stood to address his men. “Just a misunderstanding, gentlemen. You may leave the Witcher and his wench alone.”

The king’s men stood down, but still kept a watchful eye on Geralt as they retreated towards their tents. Once they, along with the king, were gone, Geralt took hold of your arm and roughly pulled you to a stand. He dragged you towards the tent the two of you were sharing. You struggled to keep up, occasionally stumbling.

When you reached the tent, Geralt closed the flaps behind you and ensured that no one would be able to see through them. He turned to you and immediately attached his lips to yours, kissing you roughly. His hands traveled over your body, starting at your ass and running slowly up your back, causing you to shiver. When he reached the top of your dress, he roughly pulled at it, ripping the fabric and letting it drop to pool around your feet.

“You could’ve just asked me to take it off,” you said as Geralt guided you to floor, laying you down in front of him.

“Would’ve taken too long,” he responded as he threw his weapons to the side and took his pants off. “You have enough clothes to be able to change in the morning, I’ll buy you a new dress once we finish this stupid mission.”

Before you could respond, Geralt shoved himself into you, causing you to gasp. Usually, he gave you enough time to adjust to his size, but he seemed as though this time was less for pleasure and more as though he had something to prove.

His thrusts were immediately rough. You couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure as his hips would meet yours, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin ringing out through the tent.

“That’s right,” he muttered into your ear as his lips attacked your neck. “Let that pretentious little prick know who you belong to.”

You cried out Geralt’s name as you felt yourself nearing your climax already. Your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling back into your head as you felt yourself orgasm. Feeling your walls clench around him caused Geralt to moan as he buried his head in your shoulder.

His rough thrusts began to speed up, and that’s how you knew he was nearing his climax as well. Finally, his thrusts became sloppy and you felt his warm seed filling you. You both moaned together as Geralt rode out his orgasm. He slipped himself out of you and rolled next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to him.

“You really did not like the way the king spoke to me, huh?” you teased.

Geralt made a face. “My lady. That little prick has some balls to say that shit in front of me. I wanted to slice his head clean off of his neck.”

“I have a feeling he very rarely hears the word no,” you noted. “You know I would never leave you, let alone for someone like him, right?”

Geralt’s hold on you tightened as he kissed your forehead. “I know you wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean the way he spoke to you doesn’t make me angry.”

“I know,” you told him. “If it helps you feel better, just remember that we probably won’t have to deal with him for much longer once we find this monster.”

A smile spread across Geralt’s lips. “That really helps. I hope I’m the one to find his remains. It would bring me the most joy I’ve ever felt.”

You giggled and cuddled into Geralt’s side. Your body ached from the sex, but you weren’t exactly complaining. You listened to Geralt’s steady breathing as it lulled you to sleep.

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

meeting. John B x Sarah

Request: hiiiii, #1 I’m in love with youre john b & Sarah stories 🥺 ~ they need more stories!!!   I wanted to submit a request! “Smiling between kisses” is so so sweet, and I know that it’s not on the prompt list~ but I want someone to write about the first moments they meet their baby. 🤎 together.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warning: This bit does include a pretty intense labor scene (due to a super protective John B). As someone who has suffered a stillbirth, I know full well how triggering scenes like these can be. Please just take care of yourselves, and proceed with caution in you are sensitive to this.

Note From Moi: I have been *SO* excited about this request since I got it! I didn’t even plan on it going hand in hand with i need you. but hey, sometimes things just work out! I hope you like it, and let me know what you think! :) Enjoy! 

[photo from: fashion-orasi]

"You're doing so good, Sarah!" The rail on the side of the bed John B is kneeling has been lowered to allow him to be as close as possible to a laboring Sarah. Given all of the fear they had talked through in the past 8 months, and how she was not afraid then to admit how terrified she was, John B couldn't believe her level of calm. There was no trace of fear in her body language at all. She simply was focused. When their doctor had come in 20 minutes ago and told her that it was time to start pushing, John B thought for sure he would need to bring her back from the edge of "totally freaking out". He was floored when she simply said, "Okay."

As the nurses had started preparing the room, they asked if there was anything she needed before they began. He was already next to her, holding her hand, and whispering how proud he was, how strong she was; though he wasn't sure if it was an attempt to give her strength, or to calm his heart rate which was creeping higher and higher. So he was quite surprised when her only request was to lower the side rail, and for John B to be as close as he physically could be. Of course he wasn't complaining at all, and whatever she wanted she would get, but the gesture that ensured he was comfortable as well didn't go unnoticed by him.

Sarah Cameron. In active labor, about to bring their child into the world, and she was still making sure he was taken care of. He'd stopped being amazed by how deep his love ran for her a long time ago. After she told him she was pregnant, he didn't think there was any way that he could love her more when she was giving him the ultimate gift of a child with her, but here he was, in love with her now more than he was then.

They had prepared as much as they were able to for what the labor process would look like. John B didn't hesitate to ask their obstetrician questions at Sarah's appointments, and they had talked extensively about her preferences. Making sure they were both on the same page, and that he would be able to comfort and support her as much as he could was on the top of John B's list. All of that to say: his biggest fear was the amount of pain she would be in. He was absolutely terrified of seeing her in so much agony. They had decided together, that she would get an epidural, and wouldn't shy away from any pain management, should she feel that she needed it. (He was so relieved when they had this particular conversation, because the thought of her telling him that she wanted an all natural birth had caused him more restless nights than he cared to admit.) She had gotten the epidural, and pain medication as she was allowed, resulting in only a few moments where her screwed up face, and whimpering made his heart shatter.

Sarah's slow breath being released from her mouth brought him back to the present. He brought her hand up to his mouth, and pressed gently kisses to the back of her palm. "You're doing so good, Val."

"Are you doing okay, or do you need to take a minute?" The doctor that sat at the end of the bed was looking up at Sarah, trying to gauge how she was fairing.

Sarah's eyes opened and looked to John B. He stared straight back, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights before the car careened into it. "I don't know why you're looking at me, I'm not the one in the middle of active labor." He hadn't planned on saying anything, though, if he did, it definitely was meant to have a comedic undertone to lighten the mood. Instead it came out as borderline hysterical.

Sarah let out a small laugh before her face scrunched up in pain, and she turned her face away from him. "Oh, John B, don't make me laugh."

His heart dropped, and he quickly rubbed her arm, and wrapped his left hand around to support her neck to rub at the knots there. "Okay. My bad, my bad. I'm sorry."

"Alright," the doctor interrupted. "Let's wait until the next contraction comes."

Sarah's eyes are closed as she's focusing on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

John B places a quick kiss on her temple. "I love you so much, Sarah. You are doing so good."

She nods, opening her eyes on an exhale. "You're okay?" She knew how nervous he was about not being able to do anything. For her to be able to focus on the task at hand, she knew she needed clarification that he was alright. Especially after his previous statements.

"I am." He kisses her hand again, smiling in an attempt to show her that he genuinely was. (Even though he genuinely wasn't.)  "Stop worrying about me. You kind of have more important things going on at the moment."

She inhales again, and the doctor, who's eyes are trained on the screen, looks to her. "Alright Sarah, you're having a contraction, so after this breath--same thing we've been doing--push for 10."

Sarah nods in understanding on her exhale, and her face becomes a mask of focus. Eyes closed, face free of the wrinkles of pain. John B supports her neck and squeezes her hand as she begins the cycle again.

His eyes flick from Sarah's face to the doctor as she counts, and back again.

"Perfect, Sarah," their doctor reassures, as his beautiful girlfriend relaxes into the bed again. "I can see the head, so we're going to keep going, okay?"

Sarah nods again, and John B brings her head up as the cycle continues on.

"Come on Sarah," the doctor is coaching, and he knows it's getting close because Sarah's forehead wrinkles as the pain intensifies.

She lets out a sob as they reach numbers 9 and 10, and his hands are moving around, trying to find somewhere to touch that will make her pain diminish even the slightest amount. His heart is in his throat as she sobs again, her breathing now heavier and faster. He's panicking. And apparently he's the only one because the doctor is fucking smiling.

"One more push, Sarah. One more and the head is out."

She's nodding as a few tears stream down her face.

"Do you want to watch, Daddy?" The doctor smiles at him and he has no idea how anyone can be so happy while someone else is clearly in distress.

John B doesn't look away from Sarah, but he immediately shakes his head no.

"It's okay, John B." Sarah opens her eyes and flashes a smile at him. She's telling him it's okay if he leaves her side?! Let's go of his hold on her body?! Does she not realize that holding her is the only thing keeping him from a total mental breakdown right now?!

He hides his fear of leaving her and gives a level, "no, no way." with a shake of his head, though his eyes never leave her.

"Okay," the doctor leaves it alone and he's thankful they're back to focusing on Sarah. "One more push Sarah and the head is going to be out, okay?"

"Okay," she whimpers, preparing to push again.

John B places his head against the side of hers as he holds her, and whispers nothing but how he's so proud of her, how much he loves her, and how close she is. "It's almost over, baby, it's almost over." He's holding her so tight, hoping that if he brings her close enough some of her pain will transfer over to him. Alas, that doesn't work. His closed eyes fill with tears as he apologizes to her. "...I'm so sorry, Sarah. I know it hurts. I'm sorry, but it's almost over. You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you..."

They reach the count of 7 when she releases a loud cry, though it sounds as if it's from shock more than pain. Tears come quicker to John B, his hands are stroking her face, and he doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, just praying that it ends soon.

"You're okay," the doctor reassures, "That's it Sarah, here it comes!"

It's a moment later when loud cries fill the room. Sarah jumps slightly as the sound startles her, and John B only instinct is to hold her tight. Both are sobbing from the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

"Sarah," the doctor is calling her name over the cries, trying to get her to focus. "You still need to push, okay, you have to get the shoulders out- one more push and you'll be holding your baby."

And somehow, someway, Sarah is pushing again, giving a small sob at the pain, and all but forgetting it when the weight of their baby is placed on her chest.

There are hands everywhere. Nurses rubbing and suctioning, Sarah's holding and supporting the new, tiny body, and John B's tightly holding hers. He glances at her bare chest to see the person that's half him, and half her before he hears someone announce: "it's a boy!" And then he's hiding his face in her hair as he cries. And he can't stop.

He can hear the smile in her voice through her tears as she talks to their son, welcoming him into the world. And she's calling for him. "John B." She says, the happiness in her voice infectious. "John B, he's here! He's actually here."

He doesn't know how she understands his repeating words of "He's here" with how much his voice cracks, but she does.

"John B." She says his name softer this time, and she's reaching her hand up to hold his head to hers. Once again, she's comforting him.

He turns his head again, this time resting it on her shoulder as he takes a longer look at their son. His face is wrinkled with cries, and John B is struck by how small he is. He blinks away the tears that blur his vision, needing to look at him longer. He turns to kiss the side of Sarah's head, telling her how good she did. He's crying, but he's smiling, too, as they both look at their son that's cradled against Sarah's chest. There's a blanket around him, holding him to her in order to trap in the heat being passed between mother and son.

Sarah looks to the father of her baby, and her smile is so big he thinks it might hurt. "We did it!" She's celebrating like they just bought a house, not like she just brought a baby into the world.

He kisses her lips, and smiles at her. "You did it." He clarifies.

Neither one of them can stop their smiles as they kiss each other again. It's simple, chaste if you will, but there is so much emotion and happiness conveyed between their soft kisses. Their gaze breaks every so often to look at their child, their baby boy, and they can't believe that he's really, truly, here.

"I love you, John B." She whispers to him while they both stare.

He kisses the side of her head again, completely content with holding her in his arms. "I love you, too."

[unholyplumpprincess]

Tame The Beast

A commission for @broheda who wanted Wraith and a trans male reader with reader acting as a huuuuge brat in the ring just to make Wraith fuck them up later. Definitely check the warnings on this one, everyone, and tysvm for the commission! I had such a blast being able to write her!!!

Summary:  In which reader decides they want their girlfriend to be a bit rougher to them. Deciding the best way to go about it is to be a brat in the ring. Patience is always Wraith's strong suit, but it quickly crumbles. Quicker than you expect when you wind up in a locker room with her kunai to your throat and pretty words promising punishment in your ear. Oops!

Reblogs > Likes. Please Reblog if you hit Like! :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Wraith/Reader

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Reader is a trans dude who has top surgery (Scars mentioned) but no bottom, however parts are referred to as cock/dick/hole, Wraith has various body mods which are mentioned, knife play, cutting off clothes, big insertions, Wraith’s infamous werewolf dildo makes a return, breeding kink mentioned, pet names such as ‘little boy, baby boy, pup, etc’ are used as well, mild derogatory language of ‘pathetic’,

Words: 6.1k

___________________

Coming into a relationship with one of the most mysterious legends hadn’t been easy.  

Wraith had this way about her of avoiding things and people. There had only been three people you’d seen her interact with once you were recruited to be in the games; Natalie, who always had a way of bringing a smile to her face and laughter from her lips, something that had struck you first about Wraith when seeing her in person. Elliott, who seemed to bring out a more playful side of her, one that involved playful growling and shoving each other. And Pathfinder, who brought out something soft from her, something more open to be herself.  

You’d watched, feeling a little creepy for it, as you tried to figure out the best approach.  

~Rest under the cut~

You wanted to try and be friendly with your teammates all alike, though it seemed some were more willing to be friendly and some would rather hide. Elliott was friendly enough to you, a little competitive, but more on the playful side. Natalie had welcomed you in with open arms, especially when you’d snorted at one of her puns and she’d lit right up and immediately started to try to get you to laugh again.  

Whilst legends like Alexander and Crypto had taken more to themselves than trying to mingle.  

What you hadn’t known, in the beginning, is that you were the one being watched right back. By a pair of hauntingly white eyes in the doorway as you chatted amongst Wraith’s friends and slowly befriended them. Working your way up in her mind as someone trustworthy.  

Once you’d finally been able to be in the same room with Wraith alone, you’d smiled brightly and offered your hand to introduce yourself. When she’d narrowed her eyes and told you she already knew who you were, you laughed, “Yeah, but we haven’t officially met! So, what’s your name?” All smiles and brightness around you that melted her resolve just a bit. Just a small amount enough for one corner of her lips to flicker into a smirk and for her hand to outstretch and grab yours.  

“Wraith.”  

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Wraith!”  

It seemed she was drawn to people like you. She surrounded herself with bubbly people, people who she considered her family. You proved yourself in the arena as a worthy legend as well, without ever sacrificing your smile for it. Wraith had told herself that it was just that you were kind and friendly that she got these feelings in her chest. But it was hard to deny it when three different visions flashed behind her eyes of various different lives.  

Where you were there, pressing kisses to her face, or holding her hand, or tucked against her in some fashion.  

In various lives, you were her romantic path. In some, you were just a close friend, in most you were the one she ended up falling in love with. Whatever path this life was on, she wasn’t sure at first, but she did know that regardless you were to end up apart of her life in some way. And...in a way, that was a comfort for the emotions she was feeling. To know that at some point, they  would  have finality.  

It takes a few months, but before you know it, you’re managing to get out the words of asking Wraith out on a date. When she agrees, you think you might die from joy and shock from how quick she’d been to take you up on it. Your first date consists of you two sitting in your apartment in the compound and having take-out and watching movies together. Ending with her head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your head on top of hers whilst you fell asleep with her sitting up surrounded by snacks.  

You wouldn’t have asked for it any other way.  

Nowadays you two were known as a couple amongst the legends, but not to the public eye. Wraith preferred things quiet, and that hadn’t been an issue for you. Though, it did lead to funny headlines on news websites if you two were on opposite teams. Wraith had a habit of wanting to track you down, and you always put up a good fight. It resulted in a more...personal kill than just a well-aimed sniper shot.  

The paparazzi chalked it up to underlying sexual tension.  

And really could you blame them when most of the time, those moments meant you were on your back squirming. Your girlfriend straddling your hips and pinning your hands to the ground with her knees so you couldn’t even get leverage. Her kunai, glowing and dangerous in her grasp as she leaned in close to murmur to you so comms couldn’t pick it up, “I’m starting to think you like being humiliated, baby boy.” In that playful, haunting three toned voice of hers before you felt the sharp pain in your neck and you’d wake up in the medical bay with pleasant shivers down your spine and in desperate need of a cold shower.  

Yeah maybe you got off to her being a bit cruel.  

It wasn’t news to you that Wraith had a small mean streak. Though, normally, she was more interested in tucking herself onto your lap or rolling her eyes at you when you said jokes. She was a much softer lover than one would expect, preferring the small dates, sleeping together, and sharing laughter with you.  

You liked it, truly you did. Even in the bedroom she preferred it softer.   

Wraith had explained to you before, with her fingers laced with yours and trying to open up more, that you made her feel safe. Safe enough to be able to sleep because there was no danger to worry about. Safe enough to open up and laugh, to make jokes with you.   

She often spent more time at your own room at the compound. You didn’t mind in the slightest, going so far as to gather more pillows and blankets for your bed to build her a nest like she liked. Trying to make your home as homey to her as you could.  

You liked to take care of her, in a way. You liked that she felt safe to be with you, to let you take care of her like this. It took forever for her to even allow you to cook something for her without her feeling guilt.  

Soft and domestic is how you both liked it.  

Though, sometimes...  

Sometimes she got this air about her. You blame yourself for it, really. Sometimes you felt the desire to be bratty. And in turn, Wraith found that to be a challenge of some sort and she’d become less soft and more threatening to tie you down. It was, in its own right, extraordinarily hot.  

It was a huge turn on to watch her threaten you where she’d yank your shirt so you’d be at her level and snarl in your face. Or if she’d pull your hair and tell you to behave. Or even the quieter ways where she’d gesture for you to get on your knees so you could beg for forgiveness.  

So, what was her partner to do?  

Why, tease and taunt that little side of her until she’d give in to those feelings and ‘unleash the beast’ on you, of course!  

It was good for her stress relief too; She’d told you one time in an admission that made her cheeks pink. She liked being able to control you, to take the reins so to speak, because sometimes she didn’t want to think about what was too much or too harsh.   

Wraith liked that you’d take whatever she offered with a cry of ‘yes please’ and ‘thank you’s and sometimes that’s something she needed. Not having to worry about if she was being too rough, or having to ask if it’s something you wanted. There were those special little words and hand motions if it was something you weren’t into. But you so rarely had to use them.  

Even when she would cut your clothing off and threaten you beautifully, a blade freshly sharpened pressed to your soft spots and yet never cutting.  

The memories bubble away as you come back to the present where you are on the dropship as you zone in on watching Wraith play with her kunai. Tossing it up into her hand a few times and catching it with terrific precision. Then, moving to inspecting it up close, sliding her finger across a flat edge with her glove where there must have been a speck of dust across its clean surface.  

She’s your duo partner today. One on one, together. You try not to let the idea excite you, trying to focus more on the idea of being champion, of earning that title, the glory, and the little extra pay that came with it. You try to focus on anything else, but your eyes are locked onto her from across the dropship. Wraith must feel you too, because she’s shifting and adjusting herself ever so slightly. Looking up at you with a slight cock to her head as she twirls the blade between her grasp with ease and sheathes it at her thigh.  

Your breath hitches.  

You know Wraith can see the way you swallow from the way her lips quirk into that certain crooked smirk. Her eyes slide to the opening hatch door instead of you; Her quiet way of telling you she knew what she was doing but wouldn’t do anything about it. You lick your dry lips, huffing to yourself and irritated that such a minor thing could already have you squirming in your seat.   

Come on, you have to focus. You had a match to win.  

But...then again, you think to yourself as Wraith leads the drop...  

She did start it.  

You tell yourself it’s only a taunt, that she’s baiting you into something. However, you can’t help the feeling twisting in your stomach that has the need to try to make her mean something. To make Wraith hold that pretty blade to your throat even if you two are on the same side this time. To put her money where her mouth is.  

The round is in King’s Canyon. The sun always beats down blazingly hot, especially on the black clothing you wear into the ring.  

You make sure to whine about it especially loud when Wraith tells you to be quiet in a hushed voice. It sends her looking your way with a daring gleam in her eyes, but she doesn’t comment on your whining. Not yet.  

Patience has always been her strong suit. Always patient with you.  

But, your goal for today was to break it.  

As the round continues on, you start misbehaving in small ways. If Wraith pings one location, you ping another- even if it is close by. If she says she’s looting one area and wants you to follow for backup, you offer that you’ll be close by. Then when you scoop up a hop up you know she needs right in front of her eyes; She looks at you with a furrow to her brow and a huff of irritation.  

“Give it to me.”  

“Make me.” You tease right back, a smile hitting your face when you see the flash in her eyes.  

Wraith knew better than to get involved- especially in front of the cameras. But you can see the gears working as she processes how she’s going to get it from you. Though, in the end, you hand it over to her after teasingly holding it high above her head. You’re pretty sure she’s going to jab you in the rib cage, so you hand it over quickly as to save yourself from a pre-battle bruise.  

However, the seeds were sown. Wraith knew what you were trying to do, and it was slowly working.  

When you two run into another team, you wind up knocked while she wipes the duo. You get the pleasure of watching her aim down her flatline at Octane, plowing bullets into him despite his quick feet. You also get the added pleasure of watching her turn back towards you- you fully take that moment to admire her ass in her tight gear- as she huffs , ”Squad  wiped.” With that little cocky, yet annoyed tone she gets whenever you got knocked on your ass.  

The syringe is shoved in gently, despite knowing Wraith could have just jammed it into you. She cradles your head in one hand, the other pumping you full before throwing it to the side and yanking you to your feet. There’s a brief moment you wonder if her resolve is even shaken from earlier. But when you feel her hand drop to your nape and squeeze dangerously, you realize that this nice face she’s got going on is for the cameras.  

“You’re not out of the fight yet.” Is what comes out of her mouth. Solid and encouraging, a fan favorite for the cameras.  

Wraith’s eyes say an entirely different story. A flash warning, quiet, unnoticed by cameras but noticed by you. You, who is in tune with her body language and her habits. Noting just how slightly her eyes narrow, the slightest movement a threat for you to stop doing what you’re doing. Just listen to her.  

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly back, working on healing yourself up and letting her loot.  

You know, that she knows, that you’re quietly telling her:  

You started it.  

It’s enough quiet back talk to solidify what you wanted. Especially when she’s telling you to pick up your feet in a colder sounding tone. You know you’ve broken past Wraith’s patience for your antics.  

You don’t know whether to be excited or scared.  

--  

You two end up being champion. Wraith with eight kills under her belt, kill leader through and through. You with four and a heavy amount of damage under your own. Honestly, you think you would have preferred to place second or third. Because after riling her up and the high that came with the title champion, you can’t help but feel the tension growing even stronger.  

The dropship is near silent on your way back. You feel your breath quickening whenever your eyes lift from your boots, glancing up to see her watching you intently out of the corner of her eye. You don’t have to ask, you don’t have to speak, you know you’re in for it.  

The interviewers are always hungry for something, and Wraith is always adamant about avoiding them. When the dropship touches ground, there’s excuses from you saying that you two are tired, that they can get in touch with your guys’ higher ups for interviews. Waving your hands about to try and shoo them away as you feel Wraith’s cold fingers hitch under your shirt and tug you away with her away from the flashing cameras and persistent questions.  

When you two make it to the locker rooms to start changing gear, you’re thrust against the wall by her. Despite Wraith’s small frame, she’s always been strong. Proven when you go ’oomph!’ when you hit the wall. Her body is quick to press against yours, the feeling of her kunai against your throat making you freeze.  

You swallow thickly.  

Wraith’s eyes are bright white, her mouth set into a line and her brow furrowed. You whimper in turn, hating that you’re already soaking into your fucking pants. Your breath hitches when the blade is pressed closer to your flesh, “W-Wraith-” You whimper quietly as you squirm against the wall.  

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing back there, pup.” Her voice is ice cold, chilling in its own right. The nickname only serves to make you flush all over, toes curling in your boots and your voice unable to be found. She must notice, because she’s pushing herself between your legs, her petite frame keeping you firm against the wall. Asserting dominance without needing to tell you who’s in charge.  

“Is this what you wanted? I should have made an example of you in the arena. It’s probably what you really wanted. To be watched by everyone- to let everyone know who you belong to.” Her voice is a low snarl at the idea, whispered and hushed. If she were taller, maybe she’d be growling in your ear, but instead she’s pointed more towards your chin.  

The thought of her height would normally make you smile, but all you can do is whine for her instead when you feel her blade pull from your throat as she steps back.  

“We’re going to your room.” Wraith practically growls out, leaving no room for argument.  

“Y-yes, ma’am.”  

--  

You do manage to change into civilian clothing before you two make it back to your room. All the while you do so, you feel like you’re being watched, despite being alone in the locker room. When you emerge, Wraith’s pace is brisk, leading the way all the way to your room. Each step of hers sounding louder than ever in the hall, despite you knowing it’s only your adrenaline and the anticipation causing that.  

You hardly make it through the door before Wraith’s on you. You’re slammed into the door, the vague sound of the lock clicking behind you making your ears perk. You’re quickly more interested in Wraith when you hear the unsheathing of a blade and the kunai at your throat again.  

“You’re going to do exactly as I say and I don’t want to hear any back talk unless you want to bleed. Am I understood?” Wraith’s voice is icy, her eyes milky white and glancing over your face; Waiting for a sign that you didn’t want this. Instead, you swallow thickly, nodding as best as you could with a blade to your throat. Only to end up squeaking when she presses harder. “Use your words, pup. I’m not playing your games tonight.”  

“Yes! Y-yes, I understand, ma’am!” You manage to choke out, feeling the smallest of cuts left on your neck when she pulls back. You know it’s not an accident, she never lets anything hurt you without it serving a purpose.  

Your shirt is yanked, dragging you to the bed and shoving you down. You hardly have enough time to kick off your shoes before she’s back on you. Your legs are shoved apart, making room for her. You feel a tug at the bottom of your shirt and a clean ripping sound when you realize right after that your shirt has been sliced open from the bottom of your belly all the way to the collar.  

There’s only a moment where you see her pause, her hand resting on your chest briefly. She must have thought she nicked you, her thumb caressing one of your scars under your chest. You reach up gently to rest your hand on her wrist, just the quietest way of telling her you weren’t hurt. It was just a moment, just a split second, all the quiet way of saying ‘I’m okay’ to relax her.  

No one would be able to see Wraith’s eyes flick up to yours in just that moment, searching briefly for any possible lie. It was so quick, quiet.  

Just as she was.  

“Don’t touch without permission.” She huffs, falling right back into play. Your hand falls next to you, left with your shirt torn open and split down the center to reveal your body. The fabric rests on either side of you, acting more like a left open jacket now. You feel the coldness of the air brush over your body, making your hair stand on end and nipples tighten with it.  

You open your mouth to sass, but immediately shut when the point of her blade presses to your belly. Stroking downwards in one slow, clean line that makes you tremble in anticipation for a cut that never comes. “Don’t move.” She reminds you in a low voice, only serving to make you whimper when you feel the blade tuck into your sweatpants.  

The first tug is sharp, cutting the threads with ease, splitting from the top of your waistband to the junction of your thigh.   

Wraith’s blade is set to the side, both her hands grabbing each split open end of your pants and yanking roughly. It causes the split open seam to rip all the way down your leg, following the motion of her arms to be yanked off your body. Leaving you in your gray briefs, that unfortunately, show how soaked you are in the front with the wet spot spreading. You can feel yourself too. Slick, your cock hard and engorged underneath- it had been  killer  in the ring with it grinding along the seam of your pants and now you just looked downright needy.  

“Aw, look at how pathetic you look.” The word is strained to make sure you hear it, burning your ears and making you whine in response. Wraith’s testing your limitations, watching for your reaction, but all you do is lift your hips up to display just how needy you are for her.   

“Please-” You try to get out as her cold fingers trace up your briefs, pressing the fabric down with her thumb where your lower lips were. Her thumb nudges underneath your cock, feeling the swell of it and how you twitch at the slightest of touches. Your flutter your eyes shut at her smug expression, tossing your head to the side and crying out when her hand goes flat against you, rubbing with firm pressure.  

You’re sensitive, a moan blossoming from your throat as your hips shamelessly hump up into her palm. You don’t have to see her to know she’s still got that smug expression on her face, but you can definitely hear it in her voice. “Poor little thing. Such a brat in the ring just for me to touch you? You like being treated like my toy, don’t you?”  

You try to nod, but your eyes snap open when her hand moves away from you. You whine at first, only to quickly shut up when you see her blade again. It’s twirled expertly between her fingers, her head cocked and letting a few loose strands from her bun curl around her face. She looked beautifully deadly.  

“Don’t move.” She reminds you, tugging your briefs just enough to give enough room for the tip of her blade to pierce the fabric deathly near your crotch. Tears fill your eyes as your body trembles, trying so hard not to move when she pulls up and in one clean slice and loud tear, your briefs are split from the bottom of your crotch, up to the waistband. Easily discarded with a tug of her blade.  

You’re exposed. Clearly hard, your little cock peeking from your lower lips and glistening from slick. One pull of your mound with the palm of Wraith’s hand exposes your cock to its full potential. Flushed red, glistening and twitching. You can see her debate what she wants to do, licking her lips with a hum. You pray she’ll suck you off, desperately rolling your hips to look more appealing as her prey.  

Instead, she climbs atop you. She’s still fully clothed, dressed in a tight tanktop that’s pulled up now to show her abdomen and the piercing in her navel. Tight black leggings to match and a loose unzipped purple hoodie drooping off her shoulders. One tug of her hand and she’s pulling her hair out of its confinements, shaking it free as a sigh leaves her lips.  

You ache to touch her, and she allows you to, but not in the way you desperately want to. She takes your hands and guides them to her hips as she settles her weight in your lap. Your cock presses up against the swell of her ass against the fabric and you sob out her name pathetically in reply again. “Wraith, please! M-ma'am, please-”  

“Well? Be a good little pup then and hump me.” Wraith speaks coolly, resting one hand on your chest to keep her balance. You sob out again, tightening your fingers on her hips as a blush spreads across your face in embarrassment. “What? Don’t you want to cum?” It’s said almost like a growl, only sending chills through your body pleasantly. Even more so when her blade comes right up to your throat again and demands your attention.  

You flutter your eyes open again, breath quickening and meeting her eyes. There’s a dangerous look to them as she presses again, her voice lower. “Or would you prefer I punish you properly? Toss you out in the hall just like this and let anyone have you?” It’s a trick question. Despite your nails digging into her at the idea of just being used, watched by her, you know the answer she’s looking for.  

“N-no!  No  I belong to you, ma’am- just you-- thank you. Thank you for le-letting me cum-” You plead out, immediately taking her up on her offer as you part your legs a bit, planting your feet on the bed to get better leverage and tugging her hips.  

You start humping, at first a little shyly as you learn the motion of your hips. But when the pleasure starts to settle in, you abandon any notion that this is embarrassing. The blade is pulled from your throat at some point, you can feel sweat stinging where there must have been a small cut, but it hardly deters you.  

You’re sure you’re bruising her hips at this rate, humping frantically up against her ass as your cock grinds against the swell of her flesh and the slick fabric.  

Both Wraith’s hands rest on your chest, her thumbs taking the time to work your nipples over, or gently tugging and plucking one. When you cry out and clutch her hips tighter, holding her still to fuck up against her desperately, she takes that time to be cruel. Her thumb and forefinger pinching each nipple hard, pulling lightly and making a wavering sob escape your lips.  

Her cruelty ends up making you cum. You’re desperate, clawing at her hips as your own hump up against her like a dog in heat, grinding your cock harder against her as you feel contractions and waves take over your body.   

You’re a moaning, quivering mess. Something that must be too loud for her because two fingers are pressed into your parted lips. You waste no time in sucking, whimpering as she presses down on your tongue and presses her fingers in deeper to the knuckle.  

Your eyes slide open half lidded to look at her, your eyes glassy and full of tears. Wraith’s grinding her hips down against you, subtly in slow circles, her head tilted to the side and her hair following the motion beautifully. Her fingers slide across your tongue, finger fucking your mouth casually as she murmurs, “Do you want to be a good boy now?”  

It’s an opportunity. Do you want her to stay cruel and hurt you, or do you want to be obedient and get her softness?   

You nod, making a soft moan of a ‘mhmm’ that makes her shoulders relax. “Good.” She speaks quietly, sliding her fingers out of your mouth and shifting off your body. Fitting between your legs, gently pushing your thighs apart to sink her fingers into you.  

She pulls three more orgasms from you like that alone. Taking her time stretching you out all the way to four fingers. Your last orgasm is with four fingers spread inside of you, her rosy flushed lips wrapped around your cock with your fingers in her hair and your oversensitive body trembling harshly. She’s so cruel yet so kind to you, her pierced tongue sliding up along your cock with each gentle suckle, dipping down to lick up your mess when you’re cumming.  

Her pleased moans at your taste only make you fall deeper into an obedient state of mind.  

You’re so out of it, only briefly whining when Wraith moves off the bed. You only come back to the present when you hear the telltale shifting across the room and the buckles of a strap on.  

 You turn your head to the side to watch her, noting she’s pulled off near all of her clothing finally. Left in her black sports bra, but now you can see all her body mods. To the tattoos going up each thigh in beautiful, shadow-y forms with flowers etched into the black ink. The piercings littering her body, over her ears, her bridge piercing, her nose. The dermals in her collarbones and her navel piercing.   

You sigh at the sight of her, only to let out a high-pitched noise when you see the dildo she’s picking out for tonight. “B-babe is that really necessary-”  

“You were a brat earlier. Did you expect just being a dog was enough?” She cuts you off, icy eyes flickering up to you with a quirked brow as if to remind you that that was your decision to make.  

You feel the words ‘You started it’ blossom in your chest, but quickly bite your tongue.  

You swallow thickly, watching as she sets everything into place. Filling yourself further with anticipation as you look at it.  

The dildo she’s using is bright red and werewolf themed. The knot is as thick as your fist, so that explains why she used four fingers and plenty of lubricant. It’s long, long enough for you to always feel overfilled blissfully so. And attached to her hip, tucked into the harness, is a syringe that connects a thin tube down to the base so she can pump thick white lubricant acting as cum into you.  

Wraith glances over at you once everything is in place. She looks absolutely gorgeous, you think. The curtains are opened, allowing the starry sky to frame her in the background. The soft glow of a lamp making her pale skin have a healthy glow to it, outlining the body hair on her legs and underarms and the small trail she had going from her navel to between her legs. She’s tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear to keep her hair out of her face, her rosy lips parted softly before turning into a small smile when she catches your look.  

“You need to keep looking scared for me to keep up this act, baby boy.” She playfully says, tightening a final strap on her thigh as she turns towards you.  

You can’t help the smile that narrows your eyes as it reaches your cheeks. “Maybe if you weren’t so cute, I’d be scared.”  

The playful narrow of Wraith’s eyes is a warning. You know at the drop of a dime she could switch to the same knife wielding, snarling face she had before. But instead, you flutter your lashes back at her playfully, shifting to lie back down as she approaches the bed once more.  

Wraith straddles your shoulders first, and at  first  you’re gleefully ready to avoid the strap on to get at her cunt underneath. But, she’s quick, threading fingers into your hair and forcing your head back to stay still. You huff, only able to inhale her scent and having only gotten a flicker of how wet she was underneath. “No. If you’re still awake by the end of this, then maybe you can have a treat.” She promises, her voice smooth as her other hand guides the tapered tip of the dildo to your lips.  

You obediently open up, despite your complaint about having to wait to taste her trying to bubble from your chest. The hold in your hair keeps you still as she feeds an inch at a time past your lips. There’s a gentle hold on your hair as her other hand joins in, holding you and gently fucking your face with the first few inches. You go to reach for her hips, but your hands are snatched, fingers laced with your own and held up above your head instead.  

You focus on breathing through your nose when Wraith tests your limits, pressing a little deeper until the tip brushes your throat. Your body reacts at first with a small gag, your fingers tightening in her grasp, but she presses forward again and stays until you finally stop your gagging.  

When she pulls her cock out, it’s plenty wet with your saliva. You know that there’s no need for it, not with her copious amounts she’d used on you earlier with both her mouth and the bottle of lubricant. But, you also know, it wasn’t just for that reason.  

“Brat.” You manage to choke out playfully up at her when she moves back between your legs. Wraith’s eyes narrow at you in warning, guiding the tip to your soaked hole and pressing the first few inches in with ease.  

“And you call me a brat? After the stunt you pulled in the arena?” Her voice is a threat, low and warning. Her hips keep pressing into you, adjusting to position herself lower on her knees and hands grabbing your hips to adjust you how she needed.  

“You started it—AH!”  

Well, you can’t say you didn’t try to stand your ground.  

Wraith slams her hips home instantly, making you cry out mid accusation. The knot presses at your hole, only threatening and not entering. Her nails press into your hips, dragging down to the meat of your thighs to grip you firmer. “Oh?” Is all the thing she gives you to argue with. You know she’s waiting for you to say more, just so she has an excuse.  

When you give up and shake your head, crying about how you’ll be good, she begins to fuck you properly. Grabbing one of your legs and adjusting you so you roll over onto your side, you hug onto a pillow comfortably so you can muffle your whines into it. The new angle has your leg hiked over her shoulder, her cock able to fuck into you with ease and hitting a really good angle that keeps making you sing out.  

All the while she keeps murmuring out various things.  ”Such  a good boy.” “Funny how you don’t have any back talk now.” “What a cute little thing you are.” Praising you as one of her hands fall down to your cock, jerking you off with her thumb, index, and middle finger.  

You’re so close, but it isn’t until she growls out, “Keep screaming, little boy. I’m going to breed you full of my pups so everyone knows you’re mine.” Is when you finally hit your limit. Your entire body trembles as you cum, spasming and screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries and moans of ‘thank you’ and ‘yes yes yes’.  

You’re vaguely aware of her filling you full of the cum lubricant. More aware of how she’s adjusting you to lie on your back. You whine with the motion, vaguely aware of her dethatching the dildo to keep you plugged up from the thick knot.   

It’s isn’t until you’re gently being guided to look up as she climbs above you do you understand. Eagerly, you reach for her thighs, letting her rest one on either side of your head as you thank her tiredly before letting your mouth be put to better use.  

--  

By the time the night is up, you find yourself cleaned off and exhausted. With a very tired girlfriend in your arms, spooned by your body as you kiss the back of her neck and thank her.  

In response you get a soft, delighted noise in turn, and the pleasure of her rolling over in your arms to wind her arms around your waist, her face tucked into your chest. Protected and safe in your arms.  

You may have taken a more submissive role in the bedroom, but when it came to the romantic aspect, you were more than happy to play this role for her. Loving, protecting, doting.   

After all, Wraith had enough to deal with in her day to day life. Here? Here she was yours. Yours and safe.   

“I love you, baby.” You murmur quietly in the dark room. Hearing the telltale soft reply of ‘mmnhhh’ against your chest and the gentle squeeze of her arms around you to let you know she felt the same way.  

Beast tamed.  

For now.  

[roro-mo]

Love can wait

Hi all,

i posted this fanfic on fan fiction.net in the New Year and thought I should share this on tumblr for those who are looking for more ZoNa, just like me. You can find this here.

This was one of my first fanfics but I haven’t updated the story in like forever so am looking to go back to writing fanfics. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy the chapter as much as I did. 

You don’t need to read the other chapters as they are not really connected - sort of. We haven’t entered the main plot at all so not connected as of yet. But reading chapter 6 may help you understand some of the things in this chapter. 

Summary: What if Zoro and Nami were childhood friends? How different would their lives be? Lot's of one shots set in an AU where Zoro and Nami are childhood friends. Mugiwara crew will also make an appearance. (It’s one of those close balcony friendship - cringe i know lmao, was young when I started LOL)

Rated: M (just to be safe) 

Disclaimer: One piece is not mine.

Also, Italics are what the characters are thinking. 

Zoro was completing his usual workout, but from home. He groaned, lifting the 15 kg weights for the 96th time. He needed to lift the weights 4 more times and he had to do it soon or Nami was going to barge in, ruining his schedule.

"97...98...99" he counted. He was lifting it for the last time when he smelt her signature fragrance.

"100" he grunted, dropping the weights and closing his eyes in peace. He felt her soft bosom on his back and her arms around him, as she completely pushed her body against him.

A single trail of sweat dropped from his temple to his cheek from the work out. He was too tired to push her away so he stood still, just breathing in and out to stabilise his heartbeat. However, this proved to be difficult as he could only smell her with every breath, and felt her soft small hands on his abs...wait... did he just feel her hands underneath his shirt?

"What the hell witch?" he spat, as his hands automatically stopped hers from outside of his shirt.

Nami was a flirt and loved teasing men, especially Zoro. She loved taking advantage of her beauty and loved getting her way. It was either her way or the highway. She was a greedy witch and she loved every part about it.

"Zoroooo" she said with a tone, a tone Zoro knew too well. It was a tone she used to get her way. A tone that often worked in nosebleed kun, which was not going to work on him.

"Seriously, what are you doing Nami?" he said, turning his head slightly to see what Nami was up to.

"I'm helping you remove your top." She said trying to move her hands, which was useless as Zoro clutched onto them.

"What do you want?"

"To eat." Nami said cheerfully. Today both their parents were out drinking while Nojiko was at university so it was only him and her. But their parents trusted them, hell they even encouraged to utilise their alone time and do something naughty. Nami's stepfather, Genzo, loved Zoro's wisdom and the way he respected elders. He would want nothing but for Zoro to take his no good spoilt daughter as his wife. While Zoro's father loved having Nami around and would be happy if someone, anyone could accept his muscle idiot of a son.

"And what does eating have anything to do with getting naked?" Zoro said with an eyebrow.

She withdrew her hand from underneath his t-shirt, away from his well built abs. Zoro was saddened at the departure of her warmth but was glad at the same time.

She pinched her nose, "well you kinda stink."

"Hurry and go take a shower. We are going to Baratie." she said, folding her arms, knowing Zoro was going to complain about meeting Sanji-kun.

"Baratie?" Zoro said, his voice slightly louder than he intended it to.

"Yes Baratie, Zoro, Baratie" Nami repeated it twice for her words to reach Zoro's head.

"We will be meeting up with Luffy there as well. Have a nice dinner and drink something nice. Well, Luffy won't. But we can." she said, making drinking gestures.

Zoro liked the idea of drinking with Nami. Maybe, they could resume their ongoing bet as well. Their bet of who can withstand drinks longer was still on hold as they either tie or come out drunk at the end of it. But seeing that shit head took the fun out of it.

He turned around, wiping his forehead clean with his left arm, showing off his biceps in the process. Nami's eyes fluttered to his biceps, enjoying the view he presented her.

"Will we see nosebleed kun as well?" he asked.

She made a face, "who is nosebleed kun? Don't make fun of Sanji kun." She said slapping his chest. Just to feel how hard it was and oh, it was hard.

"Just answer the damn question." he said, removing his top in front of her. His whole body seemed to be living as Nami could see each and every muscle in his body ripple against his skin whilst he removed his t-shirt. His nipples whispered hello to her and oh god, his abs. She trailed a single sweat that dropped from his neck, which made its way between his collar bone, past his chest, crossed his abs and disappeared in his belly button

"like what you see?" He said smirking at how fixated she was with his abs.

She quickly looked up to see him smirking at her, with that stupid grin. She was not gonna let him be the only winner.

"Nope, not at all." she said turning, throwing her hair to his face in the process, and moving towards the door. Zoro closed his eyes naturally and as he opened his eyes to shout some vain remarks to Nami, all he saw was her ass and hips moving side to side towards the door. She didn't need to say anything because she knew he was already looking.

"Be ready by 5 and come over as soon as you're ready." She said before leaving the room completely.

"Oh and invite law." she said with a wink.

///////////

Zoro was ready in 10 mins. He put on a simple white top, jeans and a simple black denim jacket. He looked over his balcony to the other side with a frown.

She is definitely still getting ready.

He went over anyways to pressure her into getting ready quicker, only to find her putting on a skirt that didn't fit. Zoro could see the plumps of skin near the waist of the skirt and her ass as she was struggling to put it on. She was wearing a pink lace thong that illuminated the pale skin underneath. His shameful eyes drank the scene in front of him; her buns juggled as she shook her ass to try to fit the skirt. Damn, that is one big ass, he thought. His hands twitched to slap her right cheek but he shook the thoughts away.

"I don't think that fits Nami." He spoke in a low husky voice.

His voice surprised her, causing her to trip over herself and lose her balance, falling face forward. As a result, her ass was high up in the air and Nami put herself on display for him. He choked on his own spit at the scene in front of her. And that thong was not helping, it practically covered nothing with her ass high up for him to see.

With a tint of blush, he turned around to give her privacy.

"What the hell Zoro!" she turned her head from the ground and was relieved when she found him facing the other way.

She got up and got rid of the skirt. The skirt was velvet and in the colour red. It was short enough to show her smooth legs and just long enough to cover the important parts. Although the skirt didn't fit her, she got it on a 80% sale and her first instinct was to buy it. It was a bargain and was the last piece after all! It's a shame it doesn't fit as it would definitely look good on her.

She was dressed casual for today and was wearing a white cami top with lace detailed front. She was going to wear that velvet skirt with it but decided to replace it with high waisted ripped jeans. She felt a bit exposed after Zoro found her in her thong trying to wear a skirt that didn't fit! So she decided to go with something that would cover her legs.

"Just so you know," she said putting one leg through her jeans, "I'm charging you for that." She said putting the other leg in.

"What the hell witch!" he complained.

"How dare you walk in here and try to see me naked. I didn't peg you to be a Sanji, Zoro." She said walking towards her makeup table to brush her hair. Sanji is a term they use as an inner joke to call men who basically, well, act like Sanji-kun.

After what seemed to be an appropriate time to Zoro, he turned around to state his dissatisfaction.

"Well, it's not my fault you're not ready yet. You're the one who told me to hurry and now you're the one who's not ready. How is it my fault that you're still getting dressed after an hour?"

"You tell me to come over and now, you tell me not to come over, make up your damn mind witch." He said with a frown.

"Zorrroooo, I'm a woman. I'm allowed to take time to look my best." She said in a haughty manner.

She stood up, happy with her hair and turned to him.

"This," she said waving at her body, "doesn't happen overnight. It takes me time to look this good."

He just scoffed. Although he wanted to disagree and say she wasn't all the hotshot she thought she was, he didn't want to make her change clothes, which is something she would do if he disagreed.

He went to sit on her bed and complained that she was slow again.

"Did you call Torao-kun?" She asked reapplying her lipstick one final time. She checked her makeup once more before spraying her setting spray.

"Yes woman, yes, I called your ride." He said with a displeased voice.

Zoro met Law as a child in a kendo club. He was 5 and Law was 10. Zoro was always working hard and stayed behind every time to train harder. He muttered about getting stronger and this piqued Trafalgar D. Water Law's interest in the little boy. Law always teased Zoro for being a little boy yet having big "goals", to which Zoro always challenged Law and they somehow ended in a draw everytime. After leaving the kendo club, Zoro was still close with Law and had been together in every stage of each other's life. Nami and Luffy met Law only after an incident that required Luffy to visit the hospital.

Luffy unfortunately amputated his pinky finger from one of his stupid antics. Nami freaked out so much that she almost fainted when she heard the pinky land on her bedroom floor with a tap. Zoro fortunately knew Law who was a medical student. Law was from a family of doctors and his dream was always to follow his father's footsteps. He would spend hours reading on human anatomy and diseases when he was a child. Law was very smart as a child and eventually skipped grades before he entered medical school.

Zoro remembered law immediately and asked him for first aid through the phone. As they both sounded so distressed over the phone, Law asked them to visit his hospital where he was working as a placement. Zoro and Nami rushed Luffy to the hospital while Luffy was wailing and sobbing about his missing finger. Law helped Luffy calm down and proceeded to ask routine questions about the incident before helping to reattach his finger with surgeons (one of them being his dad). Thankfully, it was a success due to the first aid Law provided. Law was so surprised at how Luffy severed his finger, somewhere along the line due to his interests in Luffy's case, he became Torao and Luffy's friend without his approval. All he said was "so how did you cut your finger?" And Luffy hasn't left him alone since then. Nami thinks it's because Luffy was hysteric over his cut pinky and thanked Torao for (in Luffy's term) "saving his life."

Oh but Zoro knew. He's been with Law for a very long time and they grew up together after all. Zoro knew that wasn't the reason why Law still hangs around Luffy and Nami, and sometimes without Zoro. He's seen the stolen glances and the way law looks at Nami. Law wouldn't be wasting his time to drive them to Barati if he didn't fancy her.

A car honk was heard from outside of Nami's window. Zoro didn't miss the small smile that crawled on Nami's face and wore an annoyed look on his own. Nami sprinted out to her balcony and waved at her older friend.

She turned around and said "let's go!"

Zoro followed her with heavy footsteps. But he still followed her, he was compliant every time and he didn't know why.

As they got nearer to the parked car, Law lowered his passenger window and Nami leaned in on the opened window, revealing her cleavage to the driver. Zoro grimaced, acutely aware of what she was doing. Nami smiled and whispered a sweet 'thank you'.

That's when it hit Zoro. This witch knew. She knew Law had a thing for her and was using him like a Sanji.

Law's eyes followed the top that slightly slid down as Nami leaned over and settled at the cleavage that revealed itself to him. Law smiled in response and gestured Nami to get in the car. To save Law's dignity, Zoro shoved Nami aside and got in the front seat.

"Hey, what the hell?" She asked, ticked off at Zoro's actions.

"Sit at the back." he said gesturing behind him to the back seat.

She pouted because now she would have to sit alone at the back but got in anyways as she was hungry.

Baratie was a beautiful and a fancy restaurant owned by Chef Zeff, who Sanji admires and sees as a father figure.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by a well-lit restaurant with full-length windows around the whole restaurant for natural light. At night, the bulbs that hung on the ceiling were lit in different colours - purple, red, yellow, all creating beautiful lighting during the night. The wall was painted an elegant white, which matched well with the light pink velvet carpet on the floor. In the centre of the restaurant, one could find stairs leading down to the kitchen and up for more seating.

The receptionist recognised the distinct hair colours of Sanji's friends and she didn't even have to ask them about their reservation. She welcomed them and took them straight to the table reserved for "Sanji's queen" as was directed by Sanji in the morning.

"Here are the menus."

She didn't recognise the guy with the tattoos but proceeded to ask the other two whether they would like to order the same as usual.

Nami closed her menu and sweetly smiled before nodding her head. Her usual at the Baratie was a medium steak with chips and red wine, while Zoro's was a signature bacon burger with melted cheese and chips. Law read through a couple of pages before ordering a classic carbonara with white wine. She nodded before proceeding to head towards the kitchen.

Nami was sitting across Zoro and Law was sitting in between them. Zoro saw Nami looking around and guessed she was looking for Sanji.

"Where's Luffy? I thought we were supposed to meet him here." Zoro asked Nami. Nami finally looked at Zoro, he doesn't know why but it felt like she hasn't looked his way today at all. Frankly speaking, Nami was too embarrassed to look at Zoro after the whole thong incident.

With her cheek on her palm, she responded "You'll see him soon enough! He was supposed to come with us but he said he'll already be here by the time we arrive."

Zoro munched on some garlic bread and asked, "Where's nosebleed Kun?"

"Who's nosebleed kun?" Law asked as he didn't remember anyone who was called that.

"Yes, Zoro, who is nosebleed kun?" Nami asked sarcastically, tilting her head to the side.

As if Sanji heard her, he came running with the drinks while singing "Nammmiiiii-swannnnn!"

"My love, my body has been waiting this whole day for this moment." Sanji said, skilfully twirling towards her, without dropping any of the drinks on his way.

"Ah, Sanji kun!" she said clapping her hands together.

"Here you go mademoiselle, one red wine." He said, kneeling down for her.

"Hey, where's my drink?" Law questioned, but it was completely ignored by Sanji.

"Thank you." Nami said lifting her hand gracefully and touching Sanji's cheek.

"I missed you so much." She cooed.

"I can't wait to eat the food your very hands made." she said touching his hands now.

"Namiii-swannn, I know our love was meant to be. For you, I've cooked only the finest and delicious food."

"Ahhh, but I don't have enough money to pay for the finest meals in your restaurant." She said with an act.

"And it's all free for you Nami-swan." Sanji said holding Nami's hand on his and lifting it lightly to kiss her hand.

She giggled.

"Great thank you, expected nothing less from you, Sanji-kun." She said rubbing his chin before looking at the two pairs of eyes watching her in shock.

"You're going to hell." Zoro stated.

"And you, how can you be so dumb you idiot cook."

"It's not free for you shitheads. You guys have to pay." Sanji said to the boys coming out of his love trance.

"Nami-ya, if you can't pay for it then I will pay for you. You don't need to resort to such...err…" His words died on his lips when she sent an angry look directed at him.

"No, thank you law. You guys owe me money, not the other way around. I don't mind a free meal but I don't want to owe you." She said in a pompous manner.

If this was a cartoon, Zoro's eyes would've literally come out of their sockets.

"How in the world is it any different to what you're doing to nosebleed kun?" Zoro said facepalming.

He could hear the 'ohhh, he's nosebleed kun' on the background as law finally put two and two together.

After handing out the drinks including Law's and Zoro's, Sanji lit his cigarette and looked at the tattooed man before him.

"Who the hell are you and why are you calling Nami-swan without honorifics you shithead?" He said, trying to intimidate law.

"Now now, calm down Sanji-kun. He's a friend." Nami introduced Law to Sanji and vice versa.

"By the way, Sanji-kun, do you know where Luffy is?"

"Oh, you didn't know? He's working with us to pay for his tab because he's a big eater." Sanji said taking another puff.

"Are waiters allowed to smoke here? What a terrible service this restaurant has." Law said as a little bit of jealousy stung him when he saw how close Nami was with this "nosebleed kun".

"Huhhhh, what did you say you tattooed shit head. Don't think I'll be intimidated by the word death tattooed on your dainty little fingers." Sanji said rolling his sleeves.

"Oh boy" Nami shook her head.

"He's a chef, not a waiter and yes, why are you waiting our table you idiot. Go back to the kitchen. I don't want to see your face, shitty cook." Zoro said crossing his arms.

"You asshole, you wanna fight. I'll take both of you on." Sanji said making a commotion on his restaurant, causing many customers to look his way now.

Once the customers started whispering about Nami's table, Patty, the rowdy chef in charge of Sanji, came out stomping his feet.

"What are you doing here Sanji? You should be inside the kitchen. You're making a fuss and disturbing other customers." He practically screamed at Sanji, making things only worse.

"Now come apologise." Patty pulled Sanji and apologised to others by bowing to the customers and forced his neck to bow as well.

As Sanji and Patty were apologising to everyone, a corner table got Nami's attention when both the customers started acting a little strange. Zoro, on the other hand, was watching Nami instead during the commotion and had seen the table that caught Nami's attention. Nami's attention was then taken away from said table by Luffy.

"Oiiii Namiiiiii, everyone, you guys made it." Luffy said cheerfully while waving his arms.

Nami's eyes widen in shock, "Luffy be careful, you're carrying a lot of food, it might all come ….."

Before she could finish the sentence, she heard a loud noise which now caught everyone's attention in the restaurant.

Luffy lost his balance and dropped all the plates of food he was carrying.

"Luffy you bastard, that better not be Nami-swan's food." Sanji said walking towards him.

Patty just screamed, knowing it was the wrong decision to hire Luffy as a chore boy. They were losing more money than making money!

Law was quiet as he watched the scene unfold before him. Sanji was beating Luffy and Patty was beating Sanji while Luffy just cried and said "shumimashe". But if it is one thing Law knows about Luffy, it is that wherever Luffy goes, trouble always seem to follow him.

Nami sighed. Great, yet another perfect day, well night, wasted. She thought.

She moaned as she got up from her seat, she was tired of the same shit happening each time they went out together. Before she could walk away, Zoro's question stopped Nami on her tracks.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"For fresh air and away from these idiots." She said pointing at the two chefs and Luffy who was also beginning to fight back after shouting "I didn't want to work as well." on the top of his lungs.

Oh but Zoro knew. He knew where she was going, he had watched her the whole day after all.

He watched her as she walked past the trio, who were still arguing about the wasted food, and saw the path she was taking. She was planning to go towards the back door, which leads to Baratie's beautiful garden where one could enjoy food and nature together. But the table that caught her eye earlier was on her way as well.

That clever witch.

She walked towards the back door, her waist moving from left to right and then finally stopped when she was next to the table in question. He watched her as she turned her head towards the table, as if someone called her name and saw the smile that creeped on her face. As soon as she looked at the table, the two people visibly jumped and looked towards the window, avoiding Nami's gaze. To their dismay, Nami started walking towards their table.

Zoro chuckled and Law made a mental note never to go anywhere with these psychos. Two were still arguing in front of him, his food all spilled on the floor, and his friend was laughing at the sight like a psycho. Psychos, they're all psychos!

Zoro got up to follow Nami. He started to become extremely curious and wanted to know who Nami found sitting at the table.

"Well, well, well." Nami said hand on her hip.

"Isn't this a beautiful surprise." She said looking at the couple in front of her, their date apparently interrupted.

In front of her sat the student counselor, Nico Robin and Zoro's home room teacher, Cutty Flam, also known as Franky. Franky was hiding behind the menu while Robin nervously laughed.

Zoro's jaw dropped as soon as he caught up to Nami. "Franky, what the hell are you doing here and why are you with herrr!?"

Although Franky was a teacher and should have authority over his students, he often behaved like his students and was seen as a friend rather than a teacher by his pupil. He was always seen hanging around his students and giving life lessons to kids in school.

"So what is this, a first date or perhaps, a proposal?" Nami asked, walking towards the table, trying to work out whether this was a serious relationship.

Robin finally processed all the information and her brain switched on. She picked up her wine slowly and brought it to her lips. She was thinking of numerous ways to play this and was planning her next move. She finally smiled and held Franky's hand that was on the table.

"Yes, we are on a date," She smiled, "aren't you both as well?" She asked softly, her smile provoking Nami further.

Robin knew how gutless Nami was when it came to Zoro. Robin knew Nami could charm the whole world, yet she could not charm Zoro, with whom she's spent all her life with. Zoro was the only man that didn't fall under her spell and it ticked off Nami to her bones. Robin knew that and while Nami waits to make her move, Robin already made hers and was proudly showing off her results to Nami.

Nami frowned, recalling their first meeting. This was Robin's win.*

Nami also reached out to grab Zoro's hands before responding, "Whatever we do is none of your business." Nami did not want to disclose any information and give Robin the satisfaction of knowing whether they were going out or not.

"Let's go Zoro." Nami demanded and walked the other way, back to their table. Zoro didn't have much of a choice as she was still grasping his hand and pulled him towards her.

"Hey, where are you going? I thought you wanted fresh air!" Zoro asked while following Nami.

Nami turned around to face him. She was exhausted; she just got defeated in the battle of wits with Robin and she was hungry! She was hungry and all she wanted to do was eat and drink. She looked at Luffy who was now planning on quitting the job as a chore boy. She wanted to get away, away from all the drama and just eat, something, anything. Just as she was about to suggest going elsewhere for food, as if Zoro read her mind, Zoro asked Nami, "Wanna ditch them and go to a bar for food and drinks?"

Nami has never been happier.

"But what about Law?"

"Screw him, he'll find his way back."

Nami was happy, extremely happy with where she was with Zoro. They are good friends and understand each other well. Sure, they argue from time to time but he (yes, I said he) will always compromise for her and isn't that what a relationship is all about. She has it all and she didn't want to lose what she has with what she could have. She would rather have him near her as a friend than lose him forever. So asking him out can wait just a little longer.

"Okay."

This time, it was his turn to pull her towards the exit of the restaurant. It was going to be just him and her, just the way it should be. And the rest can starve to death, for all Zoro cares.

"Zoro, that's the wrong way!"

"Damn, it!"

/////

* Reference to chapter 6. 

Hope you enjoyed it.

Hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening/night. :) 

[chaoskirin]

Reversed (Reworked) Chapter One

Well, I finally did it! I am re-working Reversed in order to remove the Harry Potter from it. This was one of my most popular Queen stories, written before the author of HP showed her true colors. I like the story too much to allow it to be tainted by that BS, so here it is with a new coat of paint!

There is, of course, still some similarities. I’m REMOVING the Harry Potter. And while that does necessitate some re-writes, the gist is still the same. I hope you enjoy the story as I repost it chapter by chapter!

PLEASE Reblog, and please feel free to comment on AO3. I love comments, if you’re so inclined.

AO3 link can be found here!

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Chapter Title: In His Eyes Word Count: 5148 Rating: PG Genre: Fantasy/Gen Summary: Roger, Brian, and John are brought together by a shared accident.

Between the two of them, Brian and John should have been able to get Roger up the stairs. Should have. Except Roger had become dead weight between them, legs dragging, black eyes staring.

"Did you hex his legs, too?" Brian snapped, lip curling at John, who supported Roger's other arm.

Neither Brian--a student in the Kyyra View--nor John--who made his home in Vexxzus--were particularly powerful. Despite Roger falling prey to the same muscle-less predicament, he sure had a healthy weight to him. As John stumbled on an uneven step, he growled, "Use your legs, Taylor!"

"I thought I was supposed to be playing the grievously injured damsel in distress?"

Brian groaned. "How are you still joking about this? You can't see, you idiot!"

"Bet he can walk, though." John elbowed Roger's ribs, and miraculously, the Oerris found his feet.

Vale Rest loomed ahead of them--an enormous, crooked tree growing out of a shallow escarpment. The natural magical force in the area made it an ideal, if not unsightly, place to construct an academy. At least it blended in with the environment, which was more that could be said for other schools. Of course to get to it, one had to climb a million steps.

At least that's what it felt like.

They paused outside the southern tanglewood doors to catch their breath. Despite their altercation, John kept one hand on Roger's arm out of guilt; he couldn't just leave the other student alone on the dark after everything, especially since it wasn't meant to happen.

John only meant to disarm the other boy, but a much nastier curse had bubbled up in his mind instead. The anger, combined with the fresh blood on his hands, led to the recitation of a spell he didn't even know he knew.

Scraping his thumb across his palm, John dislodged the last of the dried beetle haemolymph. Vexxzus spellcasting was disgusting but powerful, and he could still feel the magical aura around him from the insect's death. With that alone, he'd be able to cast for many hours.

As if reading his mind, Brian asked, "Why can't you Vexxzus have a normal focus?" He ran his hand over the branched barrier in front of him until he found the right combination, after which the door swung open. "To cast immediately, too. It's... Well, it's irresponsible is what it is!"

"Aw, c'mon. You know Vexxzus' magic is pretty new," Roger said, glancing up from the floor. An intricate black mask traced the skin in and around his eyes, the pattern almost like lace. It was disturbing but beautiful, shimmering like stars. John couldn't stop looking at it, half with pride and half with horror. A second year student such as himself shouldn't have been able to cast such a curse.

"Decades old," Brian corrected as he and John guided Roger onto the flagstone interior, then toward yet another set of stairs. "A new study in the course of history, sure, but it's been around--There's still people alive who were kids when it first manifested. It's hardly new! Anyway, why are you defending him?"

"Mmmh," Roger mused, his feet tapping in front of him to find the steps. "It looks like he's sorry."

"Looks like!" Brian exclaimed. "You can't bloody see!"

"But I can feel!" Roger argued. "Look at 'im. He's practically shakin' out of his boots."

John certainly did feel as if he'd be expelled for this, or that his family would disown him. Or kill him. Consequently, he couldn't prevent the occasional shudder from wracking his body.

Brian grunted a halfhearted acknowledgement. Roger patted John's arm and said, "It's okay, John. Trust me."

John curled his lip, sneering. "How, in any way, is this okay?"

"It's not," Brian said. "And once we make sure Roger's okay, I'm telling the Council everything."

"I hope you make sure you tell them that this idiot challenged me to a duel in the first place!" John snarled. "And you were his second, May!"

"'This idiot' is right here," Roger noted.

"Good! Don't challenge me to a duel next time!"

"Roger that!" Roger Roger'd.

Incredulous, Brian let Roger go, and stood with his hands on his hips. "Oh, you'll listen to him?" Brian demanded. "This is a snake, Roger. We step on snakes. I'm your best friend, and I clearly remember telling you that this was a bad idea."

"Well, I mean..." Roger fumbled for words. "There's a big difference between 'this is a bad idea' and 'don't do the thing.' Seems to me like we should keep John around. He has the potential to stop me from doing some incredibly stupid stuff!"

John chuckled before he realized what he was doing.

"It's not funny, you prat," Brian said. "You could have killed him." Killed? No. Could he have? Granted, he'd said the words to the curse that blinded Roger before he really knew what he was saying, as if they had a mind of their own. He'd screamed them, in fact, if he remembered right. At full volume, louder than he'd ever said anything before.

What if his anger had driven him to say something else, though? There were rumors. The barest whispers of the power of Death Magic--the power to take a life for a life. Since the Vexxzus View manifested some seventy-odd years ago, those in the darkest reaches of the world had experimented. And, it had been theorized, the words came from deep within; a language spoken with no context. An ancient tongue... "No," John said, half to himself and half to Brian. "I couldn't have. I'm twelve." He stopped on the stairs, distracted by the idea. "You could have. I'm honestly surprised you didn't," Brian said. "Pleasantly, mind, since we're all still very much alive. Thanks for that."

Could he have felt so much hate in that moment that he could have possibly used magic to kill? Was it even possible? If anyone could do it, his View could.

No.

"Let's go, Rog," Brian said, taking Roger's arm again. He gave John another good glare before turning away.

Despite his blindness, Roger still faced backward even as Brian dragged him up the stairs. Eventually, Roger turned away as well, and John thought that would be the end of it. He'd escape to his dormitory and await his punishment while he pondered if he was capable of killing another student in hatred.

Well. Hatred was too strong a word. John didn't particularly like Roger Taylor, but he didn't hate him.

"Hang on, Bri," Roger said. John looked up again, to find the Oerris student feeling his way down the stairs on his own. John automatically reached out to help him. Roger wasn't a bad kid after all... He was just a bit of a jackass. And definitely didn't deserve a life of blindness for a few idiot pranks. "John, I told you, it'll be okay." He took one of John's hands in both of his, and for a second, John believed him.

"No, he's like all the other Vexxzuses," Brian grumbled. "He'll grow up to be a murderer. Maybe even the first person to murder someone with a single word."

John wrenched his hand away from Roger. He lacked the fortitude to argue, since fear and a painfully insistent shame clouded his thoughts. He actually could have killed someone! And even if Roger was just an stick-waving Oerris like the rest of them, with no sense of artistry to the craft, he was still a kid.

Also, the most confusing person John had ever met, because who in their right mind was actually nice to someone who'd just cast a terrible curse on you?

Roger, apparently. An person with feelings and dreams and goals. What if, instead of staring into Roger's starry eyes, John had to stare at his life-robbed corpse?

He saw it for a moment. A snow-pale classmate, dead and still. Struck with the gravity of what could have happened, John shuffled backwards. Unfortunately, as he was on a step, his foot landed on thin air, resulting in an immediate tumble. Something cracked as he tried to catch himself, and the resulting pain followed him all the way down. He couldn't remember how high up he was, but by the time he collided with the landing, he felt like he'd rolled down a hundred stairs. Howling in agony, he curled against the banister, clutching at his arm.

"What happened?" Roger asked. "John?"

"Look--I didn't mean it, Deacon," Brian said, footsteps getting closer. "I mean, as far as Vexxzuses go, you're all right, I guess? What'd you go and--Oh, hell, this is broken."

John opened his eyes, tears distorting the blue and silver colors of Brian's Kyyra uniform. "Broken?" John hadn't ever seen that look on Brian's face before. Gentle, worried, caring. Before, it always looked so angry. "You're both idiots," he said.

"Brian?" Roger whimpered.

Brian bit his lip, brow furrowed. "Okay, Rog... Let me..." He stood, skipping back up the stairs. Taking Roger by the hand, he guided him back down to the landing. "Sit here with Deacon. I'm gonna go get a nurse. Don't move, either of you. I mean it."

After helping Roger sit, Brian ran off, at a much quicker pace, toward the hospital. All John wanted to do was cry, really, but he found himself distracted when he felt Roger's hand on his hip. "What are you...?" John started. But Roger seemed to be concentrating quite intently as he moved his hand, finding John's elbow. A little more, and he was touching John's shoulder. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed. Reaching all the way around, Roger pulled John up, until he was sitting. Not one to reject any sort of comfort at the moment, John leaned against Roger, relishing the warmth. "Did you fall down the whole flight?" Roger asked. "Half, maybe," John said, glancing up and estimating. "Yeah, half. May says my arm is broken." He looked down at it and wished he hadn't; no arm should be able to bend quite that way, and seeing it just made it hurt more.

"Why do you do that?" Roger asked.

"What? Fall? It's a hobby."

"No. You call me and Brian by our last names. I mean, he does it, too, but just 'cuz you do, I think."

John really had no idea. It seemed like the thing to do, he supposed. Take something precious to someone and completely ignore it in favor of something less personal? Seemed stupid, now that he really thought about it.

"Anyway," Roger went on. "This is quite a spell you did. I think you might know more than Brian." More than a stuck up old Kyyra? Possible. Probable, even. Though Brian didn't seem like the type to study curses in the first place. Academics could name a curse and maybe even go through the incantation for a test, but to actually pull it off? Nah. Most who shared the Kyyra View had the same problem, at least as far as John knew.

He took a moment to feel pride at the compliment, until the implications hit him. Looking into Roger's eyes, he winced. "It's bad, Roger."

"I know."

"Then why are you so calm?"

He smiled serenely. "Well, it's done, isn't it? There's nothing I can do about it right this minute. Besides, I don't think you meant to."

After a moment, John said, "No. I really didn't." There was no sense wasting an opportunity to learn, though. He leaned over to look at the spell's handiwork again. "What's it like? Do you see anything?"

Roger shook his head. "No. N'come to think of it, I'm not totally sure what... what it was like to see." His eyes narrowed, the bright stars shifting around inside. "That's strange. I mean, odd, isn't it? I don't remember what you look like."

John felt sick.

"It'll be okay!" Roger said again. "Brian'll demand the Head Matron. Salwix, or her assistant Cammielle. He gets all panicky and people kinda take him seriously 'cuz he's so brainy. They'll make it better."

John wasn't so sure.

In the idle silence, Roger waved a hand in front of his own face, expression elated, as if this was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him. "Wow! What's a hand look like? I can feel it, but I don't remember. Neat, huh? You know, my view's colors are purple and gold, but I can't even think of what purple is anymore! This is so weird--"

"Please stop," John said weakly.

"Eh? All right. Just thought you wanted to know, is all." Roger pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them.

"Didn't know it did all that," John replied. "Actually I wasn't sure what it'd do. I think I read about it once. My family's got these old books. Sometimes I'd sneak into my mom's study to read them."

"Didja get in trouble?"

John laughed. "Yeah. Sometimes." Roger laughed, too, then said, "Look at us, havin' a normal conversation for once."

"You're cursed, and I've just broken my arm. This isn't how normal people have a chat."

"Normal as we've ever had. Anyway, you seem nice enough. How'd you end up with the Death View, anyway? I thought only the creepy ones ended up there."

John curled his nose. A lot of people thought the same of Vexxzus, but one couldn't control their magical aptitude any more than they could control the color of the sky. "They shouldn't be called Views," John answered. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

"Yeah, but--"

"It's just a way to do magic, all right? And some people are... better at it than the other views. Some people... It's all they can do."

"Really? It's all you can do?" Roger pressed. "I'm good at Oerris, but I can do Kyyra if I really concentrate. But I don't want to concentrate, so..." He trailed off with a shrug. "You know Brian can do all four? Even Ghittan?"

John didn't know that. His respect for the Kyyra increased a fraction of a millimeter.

After re-situating his arm, which had dulled from a brilliant pain to a mere sharp ache, John said, "yes, it's all I can do."

"Weird," Roger said, though his voice carried a hint of contemplation to it. "We all just thought that--"

"Oh! Heavens, there they are, just like you said!" a voice echoed from the upper landing, cutting Roger off as a heavyset nurse bustled down the steps. Headmatron Salwix, who ran the entire hospital, reached John and Roger and knelt down next to them. Brian followed a few steps behind.

Salwix reached into her pocket, retrieving a pouch, out of which she took a pinch of red clay. Looping the pouch around her thumb, she reached for John's wrist; her touch set it to throbbing again, and he squealed.

She tsk'd. "You're right, May. Definitely broken. Falling down a flight of steps at your age, Deacon? Remind me--"

"A second-year, ma'am," Brian supplied.

"Well, I suppose it happens sometimes," Salwix muttered, gently sprinkling the cold clay down John's forearm. She muttered a healing incantation John hadn't yet learned and added, "this will numb the pain until I can take a closer look. But it's still broken, so don't go doing cartwheels on it."

John's answered with a relieved sign. "Yes, ma'am."

"As for you..." she said, turning to Roger. Reaching for his face, she grabbed his cheeks and turned his head from side to side, squishing his lips into a pucker with her grasp. With her other hand, she traced the lines around his eyes. "Cold, smooth. I know what this is, but I haven't seen it in years, and then, only once in my entire career! What in Merlin's name happened?"

John looked up at Brian. The Kyyra crossed his arms, quickly looking away. He hadn't told!

"Whrrbwoosiiyrrs--" Roger tried. Salwix released his face.

After rubbing his jaw, Roger tried again. "One of the sixth-years bet me that I couldn't curse myself," he said, brimming with unearned pride. "Now he owes me n' Brian n' John here a round next time we go to Rec."

John bristled. How dare a stick-waver take credit for John's brilliant spell? Before he could ruin their whole cover, though, he bit his tongue. Roger seemed to be in the process of saving his ass, which meant John was going to have to let that little insult go. At least for now.

Salwix looked up at Brian, who rolled his eyes. "Roger's an idiot, Matron Salwix," he said. "I found him wandering around down the hill. Me n' Deacon were helping him get up to the hospital, but then..."

"I see. Well, Mister Taylor, I'll be informing your View's council that you've been using advanced curses. This won't go unpunished, I'm afraid. This sort of magic is dangerous." She shook her head, clicking her tongue. "At least you didn't curse someone else. Honestly, you children. Up. Both of you. We'll have you seen to."

With Salwix helping Roger to his feet, that left Brian to help John. He did so with surprising care, slowly, so as not to jar the broken arm too badly. It still stung, now that gravity was pulling on it. John held it to his chest, feeling tears sting at his eyes again. "Matron Salwix?" John asked. "Can you fix his eyes? He's going to be okay, right?"

Salwix turned, hesitating. Roger said, "It's okay. You can say." "There are... some side effects," she said. "Minor, but obvious, I'm afraid. But you'll see again." Side effects. As Salwix helped Roger up the stairs, John met Brian's eyes, and they shared a moment of worry.

~*~

"Uuughhhh," Roger groaned. As he became more and more conscious, the headache seemed to get worse. Still, he chanced opening his eyes, grimacing as the light hit them. He threw his arms up in front of his face to block it out.

Well, at least he remembered what seeing was like now. Pain. Agony.

"Roger," someone whispered.

"No, not so loud," he whined. Peering through his fingers, he found John and Brian standing over him. If John would only move a little bit to the right, he'd block out the overhead light...

"We're between classes," Brian said, as quietly as he could manage. Thankfully, Brian's voice was fairly comforting anyway, but it still made Roger's head hurt. "Thought we'd come see if you were awake yet." Between classes? Roger's duel with John was on Saturday, which meant he must have missed all of Sunday. At least. "So, this is when I ask the cliché, 'how long was I out?' question, I suppose." He squeezed his eyes shut and added, "Shut up, Roger. You're too loud."

"He's Roger, though," John said, worried. "He knows. He's just being funny," Brian replied. "Or trying. It rarely ever hits the mark." "Hey, I'm funny." Roger opened one eye again, and gestured to the window. "Think one of you can shut the curtains?" "They're closed, Rog," Brian said. "Besides, it's cloudy out. You're just very photosensitive right now. It'll pass." "Oh, yeah, don't take my photo right now, either. I imagine I'm a bit of a mess. Now, c'mon. Tell me. How long was I out?"

Brian and John looked at each other. Roger noticed that John's wrist was neither wrapped, nor did it look like it hurt at all as he cradled a stack of books. "Ah, well," John said. "Salwix put you out for a week. She thought you'd wake up today. I got your homework."

Roger groaned.

"I told you, he doesn't like homework," Brian said. "You should have saved that for when he was up and about."

Roger smiled. "You two friends now?"

"He needed someone to keep him in line. Vexxzuses, you know," Brian said.

John rolled his eyes.

Roger pushed himself up until he was sitting. The headache was easing a bit now, although it still felt like someone had grabbed his brain, shaken it, and put it back sideways. One would think that with all the mages around Vale Rest, they might have found a way to eliminate such inconveniences entirely. Maybe he'd ask Salwix for a headache draught once Brian and John left. "You guys figure out what the side effects are supposed to be?"

They smiled, and John giggled behind his hand. Roger didn't like that. It meant they were in on a joke that he wasn't in on, and that was unacceptable. "C'mon, it can't be too serious. What? What is it? Do I have another eye?" He waved his hand in front of his face, but found that he was still seeing in boring, normal three dimensions. No mystical powers of prestidigitation. Alas. "Is he disappointed that he doesn't have another eye?" John asked.

"No," Roger said. Then, "Yes, maybe."

"It's not that exciting," Brian said. "John, did you bring the mirror?"

"Oh, right. Hang on." He set his books down on the nightstand and slung his bag off his shoulder, digging through it. "You'll have some dark circles under your eyes," Brian said. "That's thanks to the initial masking spell effect. But it doesn't look that bad, honestly, I think. It's the other thing... Show him. He'll probably love it." John handed him the mirror. Despite his curiosity, Roger still felt just the slightest amount of trepidation as he looked into it... and found that his eyes were a rather fetching shade of bright lavender. Surprising, to say the least. He wondered if it was a trick of the light, but when he moved the mirror, they stayed purple.

"Salwix says they'll change based on the weather," Brian said. "It's raining now, so... We're guessing purple is rain. We'll have to see what the rest is. I guess that's the true intention of the spell, it's just... imperfect. Also, it's..."

"Not reversible," John said quietly. "I'm really sorry, Roger."

He missed the blue, it was true. Still, John seemed so down, and it could have ended up being a whole lot worse. Color-changing eyes? The girls were going to love him. "Are you kidding?" Roger exclaimed. "This is great. There's no windows in the dorms. We'll know what to wear without sending someone upstairs in their skivvies."

"Told you," Brian said. He smiled, laying a hand on John's shoulder. But John didn't look particularly relieved. He had that same sick, pale look that he had on the stairs. Or, the same look Roger imagined he would have, if Roger could have pictured anything at that point in time. In any case, he looked now how he sounded then, and that was kind of sad. "Hey, Bri?" Roger said. "Can I talk to John for a bit?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Glad you're up, Roger. I'll have your homework waiting for you when you get out of here." He winked as Roger groaned, before shouldering his bag.

"He knows I hate homework," Roger said, once Brian was gone. "Your wrist looks okay." "Oh, yeah. They fixed it up here really quick," John said, turning it over a couple times. He sat on the bed, shoulders slumping. "Thanks, by the way... For taking the fall for me. While I was up here, I heard Salwix talking to your Council. I'm sure if they knew I cursed you, I would have been expelled."

"It's not that bad! Is it?" Roger held up the mirror again, poking at the dark smudges under his eyes. Eh, he could make it work. They really brought out the color, honestly, even if that color was purple. "We gotta find out what the other colors are. Think you can make it stop raining?"

"...Yes." John said. "I mean, yes, it's bad. No, I can't make it stop raining. Do you take anything seriously? I cursed you, Roger. Forever. What if it'd been worse?"

Roger lowered the mirror. The poor second-year looked like he was about to cry. "My mum says 'if' is a big word."

"It's two letters."

"Yeah, but you can't dwell on it, you know? If you start thinking of all the 'what ifs,' then you never live now. What are you worried about? That you'd be able to do some weird death magic?"

John didn't say anything.

Honestly, Roger always did have a healthy fear of the Vexxzus View. Some, like John, crushed beetles to gain a burst of magic power, but he'd seen others take the lives of mice or birds. Killing was a strange, gruesome, macabre focus, unlike the much more sensible imbuing of magic into a wand or gem--like a sensible human.

Furthermore, the View possessed an air of secrecy and mystery, even among its own members. No one knew how far the magic could go. What it could do. Everyone else in Vale Rest just assumed the Vexxzuses pursued murder as their ultimate goal. Why else would you choose...

But John said he hadn't chosen it.

Roger sighed. "Look, I don't know you very well, but everything I need to know about you, I've learned since our duel. S'far as I can tell, you wouldn't be able to do it." When John looked affronted, Roger clarified. "That's a good thing! No one should be able to invent a killing word, and those who'd do it are bad people. And... and even if you could... Even if you knew some death spell, you wouldn't have done it anyway. You wanted to teach me a lesson. You didn't want to kill me." Roger paused, then added, "Did you?"

"No! Of course not!" As soon as John said the words, realization dawned, and he relaxed. "No. I never want that. Still. I think what I did to you... It's the worst curse I know of. And I shouldn't have been able to do it. I mean, most adults can't do it. It is still under development, after all. It just doesn't work right... But it's not the words. I've read about it, you see. A little. It must be the pronunciation. It's not at all natural. The words--they say they're ancient..."

"Like... Old god ancient?"

"Maybe," John wondered. "And it'd be easier with a wand, like you have in Oerris. There's a... A motion to it."

"I thought you said you didn't read much about it."

John's academic fixation fizzled, and he slumped. "I pick things up."

Roger muttered to himself, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. Looking through the drawers in his nightstand, he finally found his focus--a rosewood wand, carved in the shape of a panda eating bamboo. He held it out to John, who wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, yes," Roger said. "Stick-wavers and such. I've heard it all. It's a valid implement for magic!"

"Mm-hm," John conceded, taking the wand and holding it between his fingers, as if it were filth. "I told you, I can't. Most people who can do Vexxzus magic can't. Except Brian, I guess."

Undeterred, Roger reached for the nearly spent candle next to him, and puffed out the flame. "Light it. It's the easiest spell we know. You said you pick things up, right? Maybe a different View? One that's not so deathy?"

"I can't--"

"Try!"

"No!"

John pressed the wand back into Roger's hand. "No. It's--It's not..."

He pressed his lips together, eyes focused downward at his own hands.

"All right, all right," Roger said, tapping the wand to the candle's wick and setting it alight again. "I just thought--"

John vigorously shook his head. "Sorry."

Interesting.

Roger set the candle back on the nightstand, and leaned back on his pillow. Despite having slept for a week, he still felt incredibly tired. Maybe being cursed sapped all your energy, too. Honestly, the thought that it could have been worse was pretty frightening, and maybe he'd think about how lucky he was later when it all caught up with him. Maybe he'd talk about that with Brian, though, since John seemed awfully traumatized by the whole thing. He certainly didn't seem like the stereotypical mean-spirited, borderline-evil Vexxzus everyone talked about.

"Hey, John? Why'd we start fighting, anyway?"

"You don't remember?"

Roger thought for a moment. He really didn't.

Clearly uncomfortable, John shifted, appearing much smaller. His brows lowered, but he looked hurt more than angry. "You... You charmed all the words in all my books to be the same color as the pages. I'd bought new books before I realized what you did."

"Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember now." He chuckled. "You were so pissed. I never heard a first-year say those words before." John reddened, looking away. It wasn't just the incident with the books, though, Roger realized, with a rare stab of guilt. Because after that, there was the hair-color-changing incident. And the sweater-unraveling incident. And many other incidents that seemed entirely minor and extremely funny, until Roger added them all up and realized... He'd been harassing the shy kid. The quiet one who just wanted to stay out of the way. Who didn't want to bother anyone.

Because John was a Vexxzus, and so very easy to harass. The whole time, Roger felt like a hero.

It was no wonder John had been so angry by the time they got to dueling. "Oh. Damn. I mean, you have such a bad temper... It was like, ah... throwing water balloons at a bear. Hilarious, 'til it... rips out your spleen or something. Brian did tell me to leave you alone. I guess after all that, I deserved--"

"Don't say you deserved it," John interrupted. "I was scared you'd never see again. I was scared I could have killed you. That's a lot worse."

Roger always prided himself on being the easy-going, laid-back guy who everyone thought was a complete idiot. He liked to make people laugh. And he did! Of course, it meant he was a bully, which wasn't ever what he intended. And he'd driven a nice kid to cast a horrible curse. Of course Roger deserved what he got. "I'm sorry, John. I really am."

"Yeah, well, if we're going to be friends, can you maybe do that a little less often? The bear-harassing, I mean." Friends? Friends? Roger knew his face must be lit up like a Christmas tree. He didn't care, though. "You? And a stick-waving Oerris? This is so cool." He used the springiness of the horrible hospital mattress to propel himself forward, knocking John's bag to the floor, so he could wrap his arms around his new Vexxzus best friend forever. "Ain't no one messin' with me now," he said.

John tried everything to pry him away, finally gave up, and said, "You're going to have to stop hugging me at some point."

"That's a lie," Roger replied.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Mom I need help. I just read a very uncomfortable story that made me very uncomfortable. Can I have a happy story of Logan and Remus instead please? Thank you. I am so sorry to bother.

No problem! (Honestly it’s good timing because my sleep-deprived brain apparently writes better than my functional one.)

Logan saw Remus pouring coffee. Onto the counter. Okay, maybe he was testing as odd experiment. Or maybe seeing what would happen. He did that quite frequently. Then Logan got closer and saw Remus was slowly pooling coffee on the floor from the coffee pot.

“Remus?” He asked his attention, which claimed the albino’s attention quiet quicker than normal, wide eyes looking up at him.

“Huh?” He sounded way too innocent to be Remus but here he was, albino hair and mustache and all, definitely Remus.

“Are you doing satisfactory? You’re pouring coffee of coffee is resulting in a puddle on the floor.” Logan alerted him. Remus looked downn at the floor, seeming to shake a little from his stupor at that.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean it!” Remus nearly panicked himself, hell, did panick himself out of his near catatonic state of what Logan assumed might be shock but he couldn’t quite tell yet.

“It’s fine, breath deeply.” He assured him, hands on his shoulders to keep him from running off to get towels. Remus took a deep breath, then another, and another until he calmed down. “I reiterate, are you alright, Remus?” Logan asked, letting the other side nearly break down against him.

“I’m scared.” The intrusive side sobbed simply, honestly much too simply to get information from.

“Why are you scared?” He asked.

“I took the test. I’m not ready to be a mother.” He clutched against Logan’s shirt, letting the logical side sit them on the couch.

“So you’re pregnant?” Remus nodded softly. “And you’re afraid why? Because you’re alone?” Remus nodded softly. “Alright, then I’ll be the father, since whatever idiot got you in this position doesn’t deserve the title.” Remus looked up at him.

“You...You don’t have to. You’re not disgusted?”

“Of course not. The implication of us having had intercourse is a bit disconcerting but I assure you, I don’t care about how others feel when it comes to my private life because it’s none of their business, quite frankly. But you deserve someone to help you, even if it’s just so you don’t have to go through something like this alone.”  Logan assured him.

“You sound too goddamn smart. Stupid it down, please, because I’m dumb.” 

“I’m willing to say we had sex for the sake of helping you through a pregnancy so you have no obligation to whoever the douche of a biological father is.”

“That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

And then eight months later, Remus and Logan welcomed Zakary and Isaiah Sanders into the world. Logan was nearly crying seeing the twins Remus made because they were theirs in every way from telling everyone Logan and Remu were expecting to Logan being the first one after Remus to hold them.

And, with Remus leaning his head against his shoulder, Logan holding their boys as they too slept, Logan couldn’t have felt more like his heart was bursting with love for the three of them.

[ultrashadowkai]

Avatar: The Last Airbender - The Promise Part 1

We start out with a questionable idea rooted in good intentions: liberate the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom after they’ve been there for who knows how long and people have definitely set up roots. This will definitely go over well

Huh, this takes place literally right where the show ended. Literally. They were all at Iroh’s tea shop to celebrate the announcement of the Harmony Restoration Movement

Zuko makes Aang promise to kill him should he ever start turning into his father. Aang. The pacifist so pacifist that he broke the game and found a third option to deal with said Fire Lord Ozai rather than decide to kill him. Zuko should’ve asked Katara instead.

ONE YEAR LATER time skip

Zuko is being assassinated and has already had 5 previous assassination attempts. He’s from a family with a long line of mental issues and this stress is not helping

Lady assassin with a spiked ball and chain. The daughter of the mayor of Yu Dao, the first Fire Nation colony. How did she get into Zuko’s room, a room they moved him to that isn’t the traditional room for the Fire Lord, let alone the Fire Nation Palace?

Mayor Morishita lays it into Zuko how forcibly segregating a mixed town – regardless of how it got mixed in the first place – can be a bad thing and do more harm than good. Straight up, this feels more like segregation than righting the wrongs of your forefathers. Oh wow, this this is so much more relatable to me now than it was when this comic first came out

Morishita triggered Zuko by comparing him to his father

Aang is touting the greatness of relocating the Fire Nation colonies with the motherland. They all loved it. All of them. Every single one. Totally.

Mayor Nishi makes the good point of those happy colonies being young enough that they would remember living in the Fire Nation itself and would see it as going home whereas older colonies have, as Morishita said, lived there for generations and set up roots. There are people living there that have never set foot on Fire Nation soil. Some have no traditional culture and no sense of being solely Fire Nation. Heck, does Aang remember when he posed as being from the colonies and enrolled in school? All of his oddities were just waved away as being from the colonies rather than infiltration and so on. They’d be fish out of water and they would probably hate it.

I understand Aang wanting to reconnect with his past and his history because he’s from 100 years ago but not everyone cares so deeply about their roots that they’ll adopt those cultural traditions just because they can track their lineage all the way back

And now Zuko has pulled a 180 on the Harmony Restoration Movement. Either because he feels his power as Fire Lord being questioned or because he genuinely sees Morishita’s point. Either way, this comic is clearly going to tackle two extremes and end up coming to a compromise that allows for Republic City. Yu Dao is Republic City.

The Beifong Metalbending Acadmey.  How’d Toph become a cop if she’s got a metal bending school?

3 students: some loud little one, some “we’re doomed!” big guy, and an emo. Pretty one note, it’s fine. All their parents live in Yu Dao which is near by. Now Toph is getting involved

Did Toph earthbend up onto Appa’s back mid-flight when she can’t “see” anything not on the ground? Did she judge by Appa’s roar?

They do all look older

I could’ve sworn we already went over the whole Roku regrets not dealing with Sozin. Why is Aang surprised, especially since when Roku didn’t give him the affirming answer of “Don’t kill Ozai” he went to other Avatars and got the same result

The Freedom Fighters are here too. It makes sense that they’d want the Fire Nation completely out of the Earth Kingdom

Already Aang and Katara use pet names. It’s kinda weird actually – them dating, referring to each other as boyfriend/girlfriend and “sweetie”. I can imagine their adult selves doing this but here it just feels a little weird and jarring. I’m blaming that on the time skip. I haven’t had the time to acclimate.

Zuko went the “my people” route. Which is not quite so simple either. Do all the people of Yu Dao and similar colonies see themselves as Fire Nation? What about the Earthbenders?

Yu Dao has been here for 100 years. It’s probably older than Aang.

Two cultures working together bringing together their respective knowledge to create something new or refine something, in this case metalwork. Yu Dao doesn’t look like one of the richest cities in the world tough. Maybe because I’m comparing it to Earth Kingdom capitals, which are centers of government and seats of power.

How has interracial marriages not have come up yet? I’m actually kind of surprised it’s never come up, especially with the Fire Nation having occupied Earth Kingdom territory for generations. I know that the Gaang more or less kept to themselves and to the sky when travelling the Earth Kingdom and were coming more from the north or the south than the west where the Fire Nation would have settled these colonies. I wonder if earthbenders would have even been allowed in the military?

Imagine the Gaang either fighting at Fire Nation soldier only to start dodging rocks or they come across a Fire Nation colony, aim to liberate it, and find that it’s not that simple because there are all these earthbenders who declare themselves Fire Nation citizens.

I’m with Zuko. Aang sounds like a separatist

I like that Kori wears both red and green making it clear that she’s both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom

Hey, Avatar world racism. “Water tribe savage” “ash-makers” and one of those was towards Sokka who was just trying to help

Politics during war is different than politics during peacetimes (or just not war times). The politics during war are often quicker and result in more fighting than sitting around talking. Everyone is so used to physically fighting for what they want that the idea of sitting and waiting to talk it out is unsatisfactory. Nothing’s happening fast enough, so they’ll just do it themselves

Zuko and Mai’s relationship isn’t as without problems as Aang and Katara’s. Zuko has a problem keeping things to himself, acting somewhat impulsively, and not relying on others (in this case Mai, his girlfriend) to help him. Like, he didn’t talk to Mai about this; he just went down to Yu Dao. He didn’t even think to bring this up with Aang – to write a letter or something – before he just went and did it.

The Kyoshi Warriors are here!

 Because he won’t lean on anyone or let himself be seen as weak or vulnerable and won’t let anyone inside his head, he’s gone to Ozai for advice over anyone else he could have possibly gone to, before going to Mai, daughter of a governor and (possible) graduate of a finishing school for high society Fire Nation girls, the same one the princess to the nation went to. I think she’d be able to give some advice to chew on over Ozai.

[gacy-lajla]

Jeon Jungkook X Reader || False Alarm

Genre: Love Alarm!AU, it’s not really fluff or angst just a lot of frustration and misunderstandings??

Warnings: mild use of foul language, probably a lot of errors because I never proofread I’m sorry

Word count: 2,413

Summary: Love Alarm is a brand new app and will contact you if someone in a 10 metre radius fell for you – given they have the app, too. You didn't download it for personal reasons and when you meet one of the schools heartthrobs he cannot stop and wonder why his alarm didn't go off when you locked eyes. But would it even do so if you downloaded the app?

You two locked eyes across the hallway, it was hard to block out the constant ringing of his Love Alarm going off as students passed him by, here and there other people received a notification as well, checking it quickly if perhaps by any chance Jungkook was a match.

Offering a small smile as the boy didn't look away you continued moving again, passing him by as you couldn't wait and finally leave this place filled with lovesick puppies. Stepping out of the building the atmosphere didn't seem to change for one bit, the occasional ringing to be heard and longing gazes were thrown around as students hoped for their crushes to pass them by and possibly alerting their mobile devices. Here and there you saw students just minding their business which made you feel not totally out of place, which was nice to see.

Leaving school grounds you finally seemed to escape the madness of people longing for love – and now that you were sure there was a very low possibility of someone calling your name you pulled out your headphone. Plugging it in you were about to blend out the outside world and dive into your very own but a quite large hand on your shoulder made your reflexes kick in and in one quick and swift movement you escaped the touch and faced the person to evaluate the situation. To your surprise you were face to face with heartthrob Jeon Jungkook – who you noticed staring at his phone right after you turned around. Your eyes narrowed slightly and you tried to read his facial expression, but as expected nothing would break his flawless facade. Seconds went by without a word uttered and he finally thought it would be a good idea to look at you after startling you like this. You were worried his oh-so-perfect eyes might have been glued to his phone for forever.

But still, none of you said something. You were about to ask him what he wanted but stopped yourself after noticing the smallest change in his face. His eyebrows seemed to have drawn closer, an uncharacteristic frown having formed as he looked you up and down. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze you crossed your arms protectively over your chest and your gaze hardened.

“Is there a problem?”

No reaction. Of course, why would someone so popular speak to someone like you, after all? Didn't he have somewhere better to be? As you were about to turn around he took a step forward, the hand grasping his phone coming closer to you and you took a cautious step back. What the hell was his problem?

“Why isn't my Love Alarm notifying me about you?”, he asked, and never really having talked with him his tone threw you off a little. He sounded genuinely confused. Given that his alarm always went haywire, no matter the other persons gender, you kind of understood his confusion but at the same time he seemed like one of the most narcissistic people you have ever met.

“Do you just expect everyone to love you?”

This seems to have hit a nerve and he backed off a little, your shoulders relaxed as a result but your arms remained crossed. You could see the gears in his head turning, trying to process what you had just said.

“I mean... it kind of always-”

“Dude, I understand that your ego can't take this so lightly but I really want to go home and not deal with this right now so if you could just-”

“Hey, that was fucking rude, I just asked you a question – I guess the alarm not going off really means you hate me, then!”

Your eyes widened at his loud words and your shoulders tensed once more.

“Just because your stupid alarm didn't go off it doesn't mean someone hates you, it just means they don't love you romantically! I don't see what the big deal is, Jeon, so could you please leave me alone?”

Not saying another word after the exchange you put on your headphones and walked off, not wanting to deal with this unnecessary argument any more. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? Was he so spoiled that he really didn't understand the concept of not everyone wanting to kiss his feet the moment they meet him? He really must've been fed with a silver spoon all of his life if that was true. Or maybe this app just failed in its purpose – there were quite some flaws, the biggest being that people would only rely on it to know if someone loved you. It was kind of measuring the worth of hoping for a relationship. If it didn't go off after the first meeting, why bother trying?

“This is so stupid, love isn't something that happens on a first glance. Attraction, sure, but this – this is ridiculous!”, you mumbled angrily, your footwork being more intense than usual, your pace much faster. You could feel your heartbeat so you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath. This wasn't your problem, you didn't have the app so you wouldn't have to deal with all of this. Not that you were interested, really.

A few days passed, the weekend successfully isolating you from the majority of the school you went to. Only a few familiar faces popped up here and there, but nothing too engaging. But soon enough Monday rolled around again and you tiredly slumped against your desk, not having slept enough the night before. You still had around ten minutes before the first class would start so you chatted with your friends.

“Isn't Woosung coming today? He never misses his classes.”

The question made you lift your head and look over at your friends, one of them turning theirs away embarrassedly, visibly turning pink.

“I don't think he is, we kind of... got into an argument? I don't know. We met up yesterday at an cafe and made a bet on whose love alarm would go off first when we download it and, uh-”, there was a brief pause when they looked around to make sure nobody was listening before leaning in, “Mine kinda may have gone off first and it mayhap could have been him who made it go 'bling bling', if you know what I mean and then he just excused himself and left-”

“It did what?”

“Woosung likes you?”

“Did you talk with him after the incident?”, you piped up quietly. Embarrassed they rubbed their neck.

“I don't really know what I should write him. 'Thank you for liking me'? I don't even know if I feel the same way about him and it was just a game-”

“But his feelings aren't a game for him. You should try and talk to him, tell him you need time to figure this out, at least.”

“Right.”

After that the conversation died down and not much later the first class started, the rest off the day passing by rather quickly and you soon found yourself on the campus again, swiping out your phone to shoot Woosung a quick message, asking him if he was alright. You worried a little for him but you were also sure that he'd get back up quickly again. Before you could pocked your mobile device away again you were met with three bodies aimed in your direction. The figures were lean and you groaned internally. Curse people who were taller than you.

“Can we talk?”

You looked up at the person who spoke, immediately recognizing him as one of the hot topics at this school, a friend of Jungkook. You weren't that busy but you also didn't want to speak with them, not knowing what this would be about, maybe a Love Alarm thing again and they also didn't understand why it wouldn't react with you being in close proximity. But then again, you were really bad at saying no when you didn't see a visible threat and people were around to witness.

“Sure”, you said, shrugging, nervously holding your phone tighter. You looked to the other two to identify them, you weren't entirely sure but you'd guess that before you were Jin, Jimin and Taehyung. The one that spoke to you actually had pretty broad shoulders which was almost scary. What did his parents feed him?

“It's not really our matter what happened between you and Jungkook, but we have to deal with him and his reaction now, so we wanted to talk with you about what occurred last Friday”, the smallest of the group said, his face not telling you much about his emotions, except for a small pout.

“You're right, it's none of your business and I don't see what there needs to be talked about. His alarm didn't ring, so what? So didn't yours or anyone's when I'm around, it should just be an indicator that I am not romantically invested in anyone.” You talked in a steady and calm matter, not wanting to make this into some big conflict you didn't want to be part of. But your plans had to be crushed when the last one of the boys spoke up – definitely emotionally more invested about this than the other two.

“That didn't mean you have to tell him that you hate him! That was totally rude and uncalled for, our Kookie doesn't deserve this, we want you to apologise!” At his loud and deep voice you took a cautious step back, your heart racing which you tried to mask with a neutral expression, but your tense body gave away your anxiousness. His two friends tried to calm him down a little by placing their hands on his back, whispered words were being exchanged while you thought of the quickest way to get out of this situation. You didn't have to talk to somebody accusing you of things you didn't do, right?

Just as you were about to take a step towards the gate you felt a hand on your shoulder, a strong feeling of deja vu washing over you. Reflexes kicking in quicker than your brain could take anything in you slapped the hand away quite harshly.

“Don't touch me!”

Surprised at your own volume you only dared to stare at the ground, three pairs of shoes visible before you turned around once more, determined to leave. Even when you heard voices asking you to wait you didn't falter. Asking you to apologise for something you didn't do was already a hot take but them touching you without permission, even when it only was your shoulder, was the last straw. Had they used their voices first, maybe you would've stayed, but this act of dominance, wanting to turn you around by physical contact, that is something you were taught not to accept that easily.

The next day went by just as fast, Woosung, after some texts, seemed to have brightened up and actually showed up again. He still seemed a little stiff with your other friend around but he also knew that he didn't want to lose this friendship with them, which they were grateful for. You on the other hand still had your thoughts set on the fiasco from the day before. It was weird how an app could complicate things so much. And you didn't even install it once.

What made you more nervous was the fact that you had classes with Jungkook today. You really didn't like seeing his face around any more. How could he tell his friends the lies about you hating somebody you barely knew? You just knew that he was the hot stuff to other people around you, which you couldn't deny – he was attractive. But there was nothing in your brain that told you 'oh, I wish I could be in a relationship with you so, so bad'. And to your brain he was nothing more than something nice to look at from time to time.

Which you didn't notice, because you don't take note of a lot of people, is that you shared that same class with one of the guys you met the other day. Taking a deep breath the moment you noticed them you rushed to your seat. You didn't even have time to hope for peace and quiet because they were already by your side. Course breaks, for once, because you really were getting sick of this.

“Look, I'm not going to apologise for something I didn't do – I never said I hated you, that's something you assumed beca-” You couldn't finish your sentence, you would've hadn't it been for the words that left Jungkook.

“I'm sorry.”

“Huh?” You looked up at him from your seat, confused as if he'd just grown a third eye. You waited for him to continue, because it looked like he wanted to say something more. It took quite the nudge from his friend who you recognised as the one who raised his voice at you.

“I'm sorry about assuming things I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me. And I'm sorry for bothering you with all this because of the app. And for telling my friends things about you that weren't true.”

His whole manner seemed a lot more stiff than you were used to, his voice wavering at some points.

“Apology accepted, I'm also sorry for probably sounding a lot ruder than I needed to be.”

“I'm also sorry for... yelling at you yesterday. It wasn't my place to do so, I just don't like to see my friends getting hurt so I lost my temper, sorry.” You were surprised at – Taehyung? - also speaking up, but you appreciated it. It was nice to see people learn from their mistakes.

“It's alright, I understand why you did what you did.” You paused, thinking about telling Jungkook that you didn't even have Love Alarm, but the setting seemed too out of place. Maybe another time, you were just glad that this situation was now solved.

[joannevixxon]

Love Comes At A Cost

An Elsamaren fanfic by JoanneVixxon on AO3.

Summary:

The Fifth Spirit is one of many myths that came to life. And, not all myths are meant to be saviours in times of woe.

Just as Arendelle welcomes Queen Anna into her reign, the Northuldra wade through their newfound freedom under the protection of their Snow Queen, Elsa. Unbeknownst to them, lurking behind shadows awaits a monster whose anger finds peace in the demise of others. Together, Elsa, Honeymaren, Anna and Kristoff must save Arendelle and Northuldra from prophetic destruction.

Meanwhile, Elsa and Honeymaren come to terms with their mutual attraction— as terrifying as it is exciting.

Preview: "How ever cold a fortitude of silence Elsa bore, it melted, came undone at the seams, shed its mask of immaculate armour, once Elsa leaned forwards to rest her elbows languidly against the railing, as if to ask for back rubs instead. Like a steed to its master, the Queen of Ice and Snow bowed her head ever so slightly to her Northuldra companion."

Chapter 1: Anna’s Astute Mind

Queen Anna of Arendelle had the likeable disposition of a puppy in summer. Her entire existence seemed to premise upon her providence of love and warmth, even when they were aplenty under the radiant sun.

She was fiercely loyal to companions, deft in maintaining her optimism through thick and thin, steadfast in altruistic commitments, to name a few of her many virtuous attributes. She carried herself like a fountain whose liquid provided welcomed relief to parched birds, except with Anna, she did it through sheer benevolence.

Fine, indeed, her feisty obstinacy prevailed at times, be it within the confines of council rooms or private quarters, patiently endured by royal advisors and Kristoff alike. But, it was Anna’s astute mind that allowed her to suspect that some volatile anxiety had been brewing amongst the spirits.

A gust of wind had been bellowing through her study every afternoon. Her fireplace had flickered pink time and time again. A distorted neigh echoed in her ears at every casual passing by the fjord. And, worst of all, she had been tripping over plain flat soil more in the past week than she had in a lifetime! That’s a lot of bruised knees, stained dresses and dismayed grumbles coming from the castle staff!

Maybe, it was just that— coincidences, or Arendelle’s weather throwing a temper tantrum (of its own accord, this time).

Or maybe, it was the spirits.

Maybe… It was Elsa.

It all happened during the second game night of January—the month following Elsa’s 26th birthday.

The sun of late had been setting at five in the evenings, painting the dinner table a warm cozy fuschia against the backdrop of a white crisp winter. Clanking away with their forks and knives were Anna, Kristoff and Olaf, joined by Elsa and Honeymaren.

This wasn’t the first time that Elsa had been accompanied by Northuldra guests, but it did strike Anna by surprise when she found the blonde descending Nokk at the docks with none other than Honeymaren.

Upon the touch of Elsa’s delicate fingers on her forearm, Honeymaren wore a courteous smile and said to Anna, simply, as though hoping not to invite any further query, “Ryder had to attend to private matters,”

The food was scrumptious that night, wine all the better. Anna’s keen gaze couldn’t help but linger at Elsa as she restrained herself from sipping a second glass. One may compare her sister nowadays to spirits and deities, but she was no god of alcohol. Mild intoxication alone was enough to convince Elsa that sauntering on rooftops was as safe as belting hymns, the prospect of death put aside altogether as myth.

“How’s Northuldra?” asked Kristoff, mouth chock-full of braised salmon. “Anna and I have been wanting to pay everyone a visit,”

“If my schedule allows it...” Anna chimed in, sighing. “Seriously, Elsa, how did you do it? We were able to share tea dates while you were Queen, and I’m struggling with...” A hand gesticulated in the air, as if to conjure words with magic. “...struggling with small things, like menus for dignitary lunches, village tours, picking dresses!”

Elsa stifled a giggle. “Northuldra’s fine, Kristoff. Thanks for asking. And, those aren’t small things at all, Anna,” Proving to everyone that she remained a stickler for manners, Elsa dabbed her lips lightly with the hem of her napkin before speaking any further. “Remember, I was eighteen when I ascended the throne. I had barely turned a new chapter into adulthood, let alone prepared myself enough to serve as sovereign, or be of age for coronation. Every single little thing was as daunting as it could have been…”

Catching sight of her reflection on the impeccably clean wine glass, she looked up at Anna and gave her the tenderest of smiles. “Dipping a pen to write letters was as scary as negotiating trade deals with kings of neighbouring states, likewise with picking dresses or menus for dignitary lunches. It’s all new to you, Anna. Give it time. I’m sure you’d find yourself comfortably acquainted with your role much quicker than I ever did,”

“You’re right. A-At least, I hope so,” replied Anna, fumbling with her hands. Her eyes frantically surveyed the room for a comfortable point of fixation. “I mean, it’s only been half a year. I shouldn’t expect to conduct myself as effectively as you did when it probably, no, definitely, totally, took years of practice on your end, I imagine,”

Elsa smile grew even wider. Having just endured being the subject of a portrait painting, Anna was dressed in full regalia that night, with her velvet train whipping in the wind and tiara twinkling lustrously under candlelight. But Elsa saw the same sprightly kid with pig-tails as she peered into the teal eyes of her younger sister—now Queen and no longer a Princess. “Yup, years of practice,” said Elsa, before adding, “You don’t have to reign as I did, Anna. Please, conduct yourself as you see fit. You are your own person after all,”

“Well, y-yeah, of course,” said Anna, returning the smile. “But there’s nothing wrong with—I mean—it’s recommended to follow in the footsteps of my predecessors, right?”

Pursing her lips, Elsa swirled her wine as though to exude an air of nonchalance, before, to everyone’s surprise, imbibing the wine all in one gulp. Anna felt her voice hitch. That must’ve scorched her sister’s throat for sure. It was far from difficult to notice the reddish hue that crept up to her sister’s porcelain cheeks.

Upon the loud creak of doors opening by the far end of the Great Hall, Kai stepped in to announce that dessert was ready to be served. Over citrus palate cleansers and parfait, Honeymaren endeavoured through the flurry of questions of which Olaf had a curiously endless supply.

“What are your thoughts on pranks?” asked Olaf, at one point.

“Pranks?” Honeymaren cocked her head. “Fun, in moderation,”

“Fantastic!” The three short twigs that sat atop Olaf’s crown gave the faintest quiver. “With an ample amount of time on my hands, I can afford to entertain my personal interests,”

“Like… planning pranks?” asked Honeymaren, brows furrowed. The royal family of Arendelle defied convention, but a snowman taking stock of ideas in horseplay was new terrain.

“Yes, pay attention,” snapped Olaf. “I recently made a list of pranks that I thought might be fun to try with a close companion of yours,” Honeymaren and Elsa shared a nervous glance. Bringing a twiggy palm to his forehead, Olaf heaved a theatrical sigh, “No, not Elsa. Nokk ,”

At that response, the four adults shared an exclamation of surprise.

“Oh, good!” continued Olaf, smiling. “I see my suggestion is already garnering desired effects! You see, I read that potassium explodes upon contact with water—”

“O-Olaf!” stuttered Anna loudly. “That’s a fantastic idea! I’m sure we’d like to hear all about it tomorrow morning. Didn’t you say something about, um, saving good stuff for later makes you feel happier, more excited, or something—?”

“Oh, why yes, Anna! How can I forget: greater satisfaction as a result of greater delays in gratification! An excellent suggestion. In that case,—” Olaf winked. “—I’ll save it for later,”

“Good!” Anna’s eyes sparkled, as she turned to face everyone else. “Who’s up for games?”

———

Games could not have come sooner.

Sitting still was never Anna’s best pursuits, let alone standing statuesque in full regalia with an orb and scepter in hand for a portrait painting. It took a painstaking two hours, enough for the newly anointed queen’s mind to wander from the colour scheme of bed sheets to apocalyptic war.

Rubbing salt to Anna’s wounds, the court painter then had the audacity to take a photograph as reference for his final touches— “Live painting still carries the best merit, ma’am,” he had said with his nose pointed up to the ceiling. Had Kristoff been elsewhere, the court painter would have met Anna’s fists shortly before being delivered to the doorsteps of his Maker.

Anna’s arms were itching to flail about. Her foot tapped impatiently against the timber as she gawkily handed her dress to her lady-in-waiting and fumbled to wear her nightgown, first inside-out, then backwards, and finally, as it should be worn.

Striding out in haste, Anna’s hair remained tightly wound in a singular bun, as had been the tradition with queens of Arendelle. But upon the doors to her study, Anna found herself nearing a dither.

Frantically, she ruffled her hair into loose locks.

Her heart had once beat aflutter when Elsa stared at Anna, as though to find their mother somewhere behind the fabric of her younger sister’s regal mien. “Mother’s gone,” Elsa had mumbled pensively, before realising what had tumbled out of her lips. “I’m sorry, i-it’s just… the resemblance is uncanny,”

“Anna?”

Returning to present time, Anna turned to find Elsa and Honeymaren jogging down the hallway in their nightgowns. “Oh,” said Anna, mustering composure. “That’s unlike you to be late—”

Elsa pulled Anna into a tight embrace without a moment to spare. “I’m actually excited,” she whispered, pulling away. “I’ve been practicing with Honey,”

“She has,” Honeymaren nodded over Elsa’s shoulder. “Though, there remains room for improvement,”

“Just last night you said I was excellent,” Tapping playfully on Honeymaren’s shoulder, Elsa turned the door handle with an adroit twist of the hand as she had done countless times before as queen, and held the door with a smile.

It must have taken Anna a full moment to realise that Honeymaren had been standing abreast, giving her the courtesy to enter first. Anna stumbled into the study. Every piece of furniture was in its rightful place— the sofa was riveted in the center, curtains drawn, paintings of her Father’s and Elsa’s coronation hung behind looming shadows— and yet, the expanse of the room felt foreign.

Anna suddenly blurted, “You two...were talking about charades, yeah?”

Her words hung in the air for a moment too long, waiting to be plucked as prophecy. Elsa darted a look at Honeymaren, before her nimble fingers started fiddling with loose strands of hair. “What did you think we were talking about?”

Anna shrugged, blushing. “Nothing... I-I don’t know. Never mind me,”

———

The midnight chime of the old grandfather clock came sooner than expected. Kristoff announced that he best retired to bed or he’d slip into slumber right then on the sofa.

“Just admit it,” said Anna. “You don’t want to clean up the mess you’ve made,” She pointed at the litter of paper on the floor. Kristoff could only offer a yawn in response, before racing out of the room with Olaf.

“Boys,” said Honeymaren. Raking in a load of paper balls with her hands, she piled them up into an idle bucket sitting dangerously close to the hearth. Its once blazing wood had now reduced to crackling embers, dimming the study down to the haze of blue moonlight.

“Thanks, Honeymaren,”

“I’ll put out the fire,”

“Oh, no, actually, don’t… It’s a bit cold...” Anna paused, trembling at the sudden chill that trickled down her spine. As she wrapped her arms around her middle, Anna’s eyes trailed around the room, tracing the familiar figure of a certain quiet someone. Sure enough, standing in solitude on the balcony was Elsa. Her loose blonde locks and purple satin dress fluttered in the strong breeze that drifted its way into the room, threading along curtains, lapping against carpets, hushing cinders to the lullaby of distant tides.

Without so much as a pardon, Honeymaren ambled towards the windows left ajar, making her presence known to Elsa by placing a tender hand squarely against the small of her bare back. Anna watched that very hand falter in its attempt to provide comfort, as it trembled to give gentle pats. Yet, how ever cold a fortitude of silence Elsa bore, it melted, came undone at the seams, shed its mask of immaculate armour, once Elsa leaned forwards to rest her elbows languidly against the railing, as if to ask for back rubs instead. Like a steed to its master, the Queen of Ice and Snow bowed her head ever so slightly to her Northuldra companion.

The whistle of the breeze lulled, leaving Anna in the placidness of stale office air. Quietly, Anna joined them, smiling appreciatively at Honeymaren’s warm nod of encouragement.

“Elsa?” said Anna. “Is everything alright?”

Elsa seemed transfixed at the undulating ridges of mountains, which caressed the heavens as much as it dived into the earth behind the town’s lofty roofs and spires. She turned to Anna, with a smile stretching across quivering lips. “My favourite view of Arendelle,” she said in faint whispers.

Catching Honeymaren’s averting gaze, Anna sensed that her sister meant to say something else.

———

Anna tossed and turned in bed at the break of dawn, begging herself to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Gerda would come knocking at her door. But, her attention seemed to have overstayed its welcome in the deepest recesses of her mind, hitched against some dark suspicion that her sister was shackled again by an old habit of hers—keeping secrets, namely ones that bode misfortune.

Elsa had three years following their parents’ departure to break to her sister that she possessed magic, but chose not to until she had casted Arendelle into winter. She had weeks to tell her family about hearing a voice, but chose not to until Arendelle had nearly crumbled into the earth. Elsa was never irresponsible, however, far from it. Quite simply, she was often paralysed by fear, and would care less about herself than to worry the people she loved about problems beyond her control. Anna learned that she needed to entice her sister into conversation, remind her of the unceasing support she had, or suffer the consequences.

It didn’t help that the chilly breeze of last night had invited itself into Anna’s bed. Getting up meant falling prey to shivers—all the more reason to stay warm under quilted sheets.

Just as Anna’s eyes fluttered shut, a loud bolt of footsteps trailed outside her room, dying down as quick as it came. Anna jolted upright.

“Gerda?” called Anna, breathless. Quickly, she tumbled out of bed. Opening the door just enough to pop her head out, she looked left and right to find the hallway properly deserted. “I must’ve been dreaming...,”

Convinced that the rush of adrenaline would have done little to allow for more snoozes, Anna decided to officially start her day. Game nights this past year were usually followed by a day off for Anna and Elsa to catch up, over tea cakes, horse rides, picnics, village tours, anything. This time, however, as Gerda had been sympathetic to remind the young queen, the governor of Jorgenfjord had requested an urgent audience with her for that morning. Replacing a sister bonding session with a meeting was the last of Anna’s desires. But, the least she could do for Elsa was to lend her ears, be a shoulder to cry on, to support however she can, before rushing into the first task of the day.

Dress neatly donned, hair tightly wound in a bun, Anna made her way to Elsa’s room. As with all monarchs following their coronation, Anna moved into her parents’ room, which had been Elsa’s until she abdicated. So, quite simply, Elsa was forced to return to her childhood room.

Anna rapped a familiar tune on her sister’s door, before rubbing her cold hands together.

No response.

“Elsa?” called Anna, knocking again. “I’m sorry if it’s a bit early. Wait, actually, this should be past your usual waking time, unless you’ve gotten lazy in the forest! Hah! Can’t blame you. I-I’d do the same. I can tell you that this is definitely not my usual waking time, though. Still isn’t! At least not for another year! Way too early. Anyway, Elsa, like I said yesterday, I have to attend an early meeting. Before you go for your walk around town, I’d really, um, appreciate it, if we can talk. Talk? That sounds too serious. I-I just want to have a little chat , really, that’s all.”

Anna bit her lip and clasped her hands tighter, hoping to squeeze some warmth into her palms. The permeating silence became indicative of another failed attempt to elicit a response. Taking a deep breath, Anna opened the door to peek inside, to check if Elsa had, for the first time in forever, overslept. To her surprise, the room was empty—so empty, in fact, that the stack of towels and fruits that Gerda had placed carefully on the bed seemed completely untouched.

Anna blinked, confused.

“Anna?” croaked a voice from behind.

Anna turned to find Elsa walking down the hallway in her white dress, rubbing circles into her eyes. “Elsa! Good morning,”

“Good morning,”

“I-I was knocking on your door but…”

Elsa halted beside her sister, squinting at the familiar row of snowflakes that adorned her white door. “...but what, Anna?”

“Elsa, did you… come from Honeymaren’s room?”

Elsa nodded. “Yeah?”

Anna’s eyes widened, sparkling. The redhead opened her mouth to scream but frantic hands clasped it shut. The epiphany slammed into her like a hustling reindeer, jamming all colours of emotions into her core, waiting to burst into shrieks of rainbows.

She and Kristoff had a fair share of amorous intrigues before their engagement— hiking up trails, serenades in stables, rowing in the great expanse of Arendelle’s fjords, sneaking into the castle just before her quiet disappearance caught the attention of her sister. This, with Elsa, was similar. She knew all too well.

Elsa looked concerned. “Anna, what’s wrong?” She placed a hand on Anna’s forehead. Anna shuddered at the touch and flinched away. “O-oh, I’m so sorry, Anna. Was it cold?”

“Elsa!” exclaimed Anna in hushed whispers, rounding her sister towards the windows. “This makes so much sense. I knew it! Something was bothering you!”

Shoulders arched, Elsa fidgeted with the hem of her sheer cape. “Y-you do?” said Elsa to Anna’s back. “Oh, Anna. I was actually planning to tell you last night with—“

“—Honeymaren!” yelled Anna, barely containing her excitement as she saw the confused young Northuldra approaching the two sisters. Anna dashed to Honeymaren’s side, tugged her by the wrist and nudged her towards Elsa. “I know, Elsa, I know. First, you didn’t bring Ryder because you didn’t want me to get confused,”

Elsa and Honeymaren shot a flabbergasted look at the redhead. “Wait, what?” queried Elsa, brows furrowed.

“During dinner, when I talked about following in your footsteps, you gulped down that glass of wine like it was coffee because, hah, I’m with Kristoff! Of course , I don’t swing in the other direction,”

“Anna—“

“And, oh, seriously, Elsa? I thought you were good with subtlety but I stand corrected. ‘Just last night you said I was excellent’ ? You really think I can believe you guys when you say it was about ‘charades’ ?” Anna winked.

Elsa and Honeymaren were now as red as berries, realising what Anna had meant. “A-Anna,” started Elsa. “You got it all wro—“

“Last night! At the balcony! You wanted to say it to me. You wanted to announce that you and Honeymaren are in love!” At this point, Elsa nearly ducked behind Honeymaren—god forbid anyone saw in her furiously blushing state. “But you couldn’t, so you talked about the view! And Honeymaren—“ The Northuldra turned to look at Anna but her gaze seemed to have pierced right through Anna’s body and out the window. “—Oh, Honeymaren, the way you rubbed Elsa’s back, how intimate, how romantic ,” Anna glanced at her old room, whose amenities were meant to extend to Honeymaren alone. “And now, you two are sharing a bed —”

“Y-Your Majesty—“ stammered Honeymaren.

“Say no more,” responded Anna, bringing a finger to her lips. “You have my blessing,”

Feeling a tug on her dress, Honeymaren found Elsa crouching by her feet, bringing her knees to her chest. Ice fractals crackled beneath her soles. “Elsa,” whispered Honeymaren. “I thought you were planning to tell her—“

“Oh, why, yes, of course!” gasped Anna. “You’re absolutely right, Elsa. It’s like I never learn. I take it back. I don’t give you two my blessing. You have to court each other, for at least three years like Kristoff and I, before you could even think about something as huge as marriage,”

As Honeymaren and Elsa stared blankly into space, the breeze outside howled louder and louder, whistling through the cracks of windows, rustling through scraggy trees. Either Gale, the Wind Spirit, was thoughtful enough to spare them the pain of listening to their own thoughts, or Gale was having the cackle of a lifetime.

“Your Majesty,” called Gerda from afar. She took a few quick steps towards the three young women before giving a deep curtsy. “Your Royal Highness,” She bowed her head at Elsa, and turned back to Anna. “Your meeting, ma’am. It starts in ten minutes,”

Anna wrenched Elsa by the arm, forcing her up her feet, and gave Elsa and Honeymaren a hug that squeezed all the air out of their lungs. “That’s my cue! I love you! See you for lunch!”

With the click of her heels, the young queen was off to the council room. Gerda followed closely behind but darted a concerned look at Elsa. In all her years of taking care of Elsa, she had never seen the blonde so pink.

———

Anna was practically hopping to the council room when Lieutenant Mattias came to her visual periphery with a steaming mug in his grip. He extended a polite hand, halting the young queen in her tracks.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. “Would you like a cup of hot chocolate milk?”

“Why yes!” said Anna, accepting the mug. “Did you make this specially for me?”

“No, ma’am. There was a surplus in the kitchen,” Mattias responded. He shifted his weight and crossed his arms, waiting for the young queen to take a couple sips. His voice quieted down to a whisper. “The kitchen staff said that Honeymaren requested for two cups of hot chocolate at 5 in the morning. She was as pale as a ghost, they said,”

Anna nearly spewed milk at Mattias’ face. “Wait, what?”

“Ma’am,” continued Mattias, looking around. “It is not my intention to startle you before your meeting but I think it best to know if anything had gone amiss. I can help you… check on things while you attend the council meeting,”

Anna nodded slowly. “Oh… Okay…?”

“Did Elsa say or do anything that struck you as… strange or peculiar?”

Anna took a step back, her stomach tightening. “No, I mean…S-She seemed nervous and preoccupied, b-but—” Anna shook her head. “Nothing too suspicious. What’s wrong?”

“Several guards with clandestine posts have just reported to me that she had been in Arendelle for at least one day before she arrived in this castle yesterday,” replied Mattias, wearing the most empathetic look he could muster for the young queen. “She was first spotted northeast of the castle, in the forest, which I believe you would know to be—“

“—close to the Valley of the Living Rocks. The trolls...,” said Anna, brows furrowing.

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Mattias. He hunched forward to whisper further into Anna’s ear. “The same day, she was spotted in Jorgenfjord, whose governor, you are about to meet in five minutes,”

Anna paused. Tears formed at the rim of her eyes, as her breaths grew shallow. Elsa was keeping secrets from her. All those letters they wrote to each other and Elsa had chosen not to mention a single hitch. Anna felt the hollows of her chest kindle with fire, its cavities ignited with a fury that wanted burn every morsel of her sister’s failure once more to deliver promises of honest disclosure— promises to never shut each other out again.

The thing is, Elsa did express her intention of confidence. Just that, Anna hadn’t given Elsa the chance to even catch her breath this morning.

Anna stood in silence.

It was her fault.

Elsa wanted to talk, but Anna didn’t make it clear that she was ready to listen.

“Mattias,” sputtered Anna. “I-I don’t know what all of this means. For all we know, she was just giving Honeymaren a tour around Arendelle! But... I know one thing for certain. Elsa would only request for hot chocolate at that hour if she had a nightmare. A bad one. She started getting them before our journey to Northuldra,” Anna paused. “I need you to go into my old room—the one with crocuses on its door—and check for any sign of Elsa having blasted ice in the room,” Anna gulped her chocolate milk down. “And send for royal guards to follow her. Discreetly. Keep her safe,”

Mattias simply nodded, motioning for the queen to wipe the chocolate moustache off her lips.

As Anna steeled herself and entered the council room, Mattias dashed to Anna’s old room, wondering why Elsa had swapped rooms with Honeymaren. He entered to find the room clean and dry. Either the maids had done an impeccable job of discarding any evidence to suggest that Elsa froze the room or Elsa had gotten better at thawing every last snowflake.

Mattias had barely touched the door handle to make his exit, when a bowl of fruits on the mantelpiece caught his eye— what a curious place to put a fruit bowl. He approached it, and picked up an apple. It seemed badly bruised, as if it had been tossed to the ground and trampled by the hooves of a stampede. Squeezing it slowly, the apple molded into the wrinkles of his fist, smushed into gooey pulp.  

“You can’t find ice that has been properly thawed,” Mattias mused to himself. “But you can find the effects it’s left behind,”

———

A/N: I’VE NOT WRITTEN SOMETHING THIS SERIOUS IN 4 YEARS???? Please spare me

[border-spam]

AU Troy Character Timeline

Right, so I saw an incredible breakdown of Troy’s mental journey/state of ego last night ( that I’ll see if I can get permission to post at some point ) that really kicked my confidence into overdrive for writing out a definitive timeline for the version of him I write about in drabbles/fics etc as it was so amazingly similar. This isn’t complete, it couldn’t be because man I have a lot of stuff for this guy, but I hope it’s interesting for people maybe looking for a somewhat logical bunch of HC content that works well with the info we were given ingame. 

Writing this was like doing a jigsaw puzzle. Except ten pieces are missing, and you have 2 dominos and a Mrs Cupcake card instead. If you like any of this, feel free to use it. I’ll eventually expand on it in my own works.

Pre Pandora Era - 28  years pre BL3

Severe self esteem / image issues from very early childhood. Leda’s death left Typhon both terrified of Tyreen and desperately paranoid about her safety, leaving Troy to feel far less valued and loved as he found himself constantly failing to compete for attention from his remaining parent. 

Typhon never outright called Troy a freak, but he overheard plenty of discussions with his mother and with Tyreen explaining why he was so sick all the time, why he looked the way he did, why he was broken. He never discussed these, they festered in the back of his mind for the rest of his life. 

Strived from an early age to be useful, being useful gave him the belief he was valued, and a “Great job kid!” from his father felt good enough that it could almost replace feeling loved.

Misses his mother intensely from the day she died, for the rest of his life. Had no one else to have platonic intimacy with bar his sister, which never felt as freely given as with his mother. 

Developed an extremely crippled sense of social behavior and rules. The only people the Twins could interact with till they landed on Pandora ( which I HC was between 18 -19 ) were each other, and their Father. 

Left alone on a giant empty planet with no one to tell them no, or instill an understanding of social rules to them regarding others, left them with only a feeling of personal value for each other. This is an extremely dangerous state of mind for any person who will need to function in a social structure, especially a person in power. 

Had it hammered into them over and over by their father that the galaxy outside their home was filled with murderers. Animals. Bandit filth. Not like them, not like their parents, horrible, vicious things that would kill them the second they could. 

Internalised that to the point where it was a crucial part of their development of self as children. The twins would genuinely struggle to comprehend any other human they met was a person, because they were told their whole developing lives that no one they would meet bar their father would be.

 Pre COV - 8 years pre BL3

Lands on Pandora with Tyreen. Woefully underprepared and worried sick, didn’t want to leave Nekro but had no other choice but to go with his sister or die. Misses his father immediately, but avoids talking about it, knowing it will cause an argument.

Disliked that their father had kept them on Nekro intensely, but not enough to hate him the way Tyreen did. This never changed and the regret for leaving him only rotted inside him over the years. 

Very excited to finally meet new people, but his social skills are learned through watching old echos and while he can mimic them, he doesn’t understand social intricacies as well as he’d hoped. This sabotages their first few attempts to communicate with Pandoran non bandit natives. 

Comes across as weird. Stutters, not good with eye contact, awkward in body language and very unnatural in appearance. Extremely tall (6″7), very thin and sickly looking with sallow skin and dark under eyes. His missing arm and quarter of his shoulder draw far more attention than he had ever expected and he becomes instantly self conscious of the damage to his right side, strongly disliking how it’s pointed out every time they try and interact with one of these idiots.  

The twins only had the clothes they had travelled in and at this point they are pretty much rags patched together over nearly 2 decades. Didn’t understand how much appearances were going to matter, Troy had been sure he’d be able to “Mingle with the locals no problem.”, and now feels like he’s letting his sister down by failing to perform the way he’d been so sure of. They move onto the bandit clans once they get laughed out of the first small town they try to impress.

Their first few interactions with bandits have very bad results. They both get mocked a lot, Troy gets insulted even more. This is the first time in his life he’s met other men bar his father and the harsh reality that he is not like other men is really starting to hit hard. He’s monstrously tall, he has no muscle, he’s bony and sick and the bandits make very clear to him that he’s a freak.

Unable to defend himself verbally to people that don’t seem to speak a coherent language, he feels impotent and emasculated. Troy’s gift with words has always been his strong point, something he was proud of, and the bandits barely even understand what he’s saying. Any interest he’d had towards them as other people gets quashed. They clearly aren’t the same as he and Ty, they are beneath them. Savages. They aren’t people after all. His dad was right.

This is the point where he fully switches to seeing almost all others as non-persons. They aren’t people, they aren’t what he and Tyreen are, or they wouldn’t act like this in response to the twins. Any possible empathy he could have developed over time is aborted at this point, and he begins to craft the God King persona he understands he will need to disguise his shortcomings under if he’s going to be in the public’s eye.

Begins to create it piece by piece. Designs their outfits, designs his tattoos and mods, his monstrous arm, their name. 

The Calypso twins are born, and the COV with them.

Early COV Era - 7 years pre BL3

As he learns how to communicate with bandits and craft a persona for Tyreen that they will be drawn to, the COV starts to form. While the huge majority of their followers are people they see as not even being the same species as them, they do also begin to fill the higher ranks with people they are meeting over time that they see as having value. 

People with skills in categories they don’t, engineers, media experts, accountants, are drawn to the COV for the same reasons as the bandits. Opportunity, just a different sort.

Joining in the early days means having the twin’s ears, and those who have excellent ideas, or bring talent to the upper echelon that the twin's don’t have themselves, eventually end up as high priests and Saints. Department leaders (eg: Mouthpiece ). These are the kind of people he sees as people, though still not on par with himself or his sister in value. These are the few he would be capable of having functional conversations with, building simple relationships. 

He has found value in his ability to be very useful within the COV. Leading the Media and Propaganda department has given him a huge amount of power, even if he still physically feels extremely frail. 

He’s settled into living in Tyreen’s shadow, she’s the star, but he’s the puppeteer, and he’s happy for it to be that way for the most part. While she can sometimes step out of line or treat him like he’s not equal, he’s quick to remind her of her place during these outbursts, and their relationship is relatively stable.

Troy is fiercely loyal and surprisingly gentle with people he has a bond with. Despite his desperation to have meaningful connections, to be cared for and liked as himself, they don’t stay around him long.

No matter how hard he tries to give them what he thinks they want, they eventually leave, and he doesn’t understand that they are distancing themself because of how he treats other people, not them.

Troy’s complete inability to view the vast majority of people as people means he has a total lack of empathy towards almost everyone else, and this is a terrifying thing to experience first hand. He doesn’t understand this is why his “friends” leave, why they stop being friendly with him, or request to be transferred to another district.  

“Why did you do that to them..?” - “Huh? Ohhhh, relax haha, it’s just a bandit.” - “What do you mean, just a bandit, they felt that Troy, what’s wrong with you?’ - "The hell? No, it’s a b.a.n.d.i.t. It’s not like us, it’s not like you, it’s just.. you know, a bandit! Doesn’t matter what I do to em.” -shrug- - “-horrified silence-”

He blames himself each time this happens and damages his already fractured self esteem further. He can’t comprehend that his actions are the problem, because he simply has no way to understand his actions are bad. 

Each time someone close to him leaves, it’s another hit to his already crumbling self worth. He has absolutely no strong bonds with anyone bar his sister, who at times seems to barely like him, and he is genuinely desperate for validation and care from someone who likes Troy, not Calypso, not the God he pretends to be.

Every time another one of his “friends” vanishes, another of his little connections to his own humanity breaks. He gets angrier, and sadder, the God King a little more snarling and quicker to snap. It’s a sore point Tyreen tends to dig in during arguments too.

She doesn’t need anyone else, but she’s seen the near manic excitement and happiness he has when he connects with another person over a shared interest or they show actual genuine kindness towards him and not his title. If that person then becomes upset with his lack of empathy, or scared of it and abandons him, it’s another open wound on the already dying soul inside him that’s barely still breathing.

He has a complete and defined understanding of right and wrong, but those rules only apply to people, and his social development from infant to adult left his comprehension of other people so stunted, he cannot fathom that the vast majority of others are people. 

God King Calypso is a fucking nightmare to anyone bar the select view he sees as “people like him”. A feral, cackling monster, as likely to airdrop a million dollars onto a tiny village and record the reaction, as he is to rip a bandits arms off during a raid and live steam them bleeding out. All the same to him. Just background NPCs in his game. Placeholder actors in his life. They don’t matter. All that does matter is how they make him feel, or how they further his sister’s goals.

Every year that passes by leaves the God King more polished and defined, more in control a persona, while inside its impenetrable shell Troy DeLeon is slowly being suffocated by the weight of his own sins, without having the ability to understand he had been sinning at all.

God King Era - 4 years pre Bl3

By this point, Troy’s isolation is now deadly. He is a deity, worshipped by billions, with absolutely no points of human contact in his life to anchor himself to reality. No one to help him understand how to apply his sense of right and wrong to his followers, only his sister, who is even more toxic and vicious than he is.

Every day since starting the COV, he’s distanced himself further from the worshippers, the bandits, the acolytes. They are screaming war meat now, they are chips to barter with, numbers on a viewer count, flesh to tear into when he wants to feel something.

His relationship with Tyreen is crumbling. She’s quicker now to imply he’s not as important, he’s not the Siren. She’s called him a parasite in front of a merger board, a burden during a discussion with department heads. Each new crack at his inner ego only strengthens the persona further. Makes it more attention seeking, more willing to lash out at others, more vicious.

His “friends"are long gone, either fled from the behemoth the COV now is, or far away in other districts, planets, cities. The people he is close with now in working relationships are held at arms length. He doesn’t let anyone near him anymore, he’s afraid they will leave too if he does. 

The isolation pushes him further into the God King persona every day. If he’s Troy Calypso, he doesn’t NEED anyone else. The further he sinks into it, the more aggressive, the more twisted his actions become, but he doesn't see it that way. This is what his followers want, so it must be fine. Why wouldn’t it be fine to ravenously tear into heretics on livestream if 8 billion people are tuning in to watch?

He’s becoming cruel, he’s becoming vicious, but the man he was before he reached Pandora is still whispering that Tyreen is treating him wrong. That this isn’t how it was meant to be, that he’s not weak or a burden.

But listening to that voice means also having to listen to the one telling him he’s warped into something disgusting that his mother would be so let down by, that his father was right about him being a broken monstrosity. He continues to ignore it, and he loses himself further every day.

The deeper he recedes into the God King, the more he starts having nightmares, the more those whispers in the back of his mind get louder. He does what he can to ignore them, but sometimes something will set him off.

An argument with Tyreen, a momentary feeling of regret for leaving his home, a pang of loneliness. He often can’t sleep, and he knows if he starts to wonder why, clarity for the horrors he’s done could crush him.

Drugs, sex, bloodlust, he tries anything to take his mind off the intrusive thoughts that grow day by day. That he’s a failure. He’s a freak. He’s a cold blooded murder, but every now and then he’ll wake up in a cold sweat and hate himself so much that he wishes he’d never been born. 

The feeling passes very quickly as the God King shifts back into place and swallows it down, but while it’s there it’s horrific. He see’s himself from other people’s eyes for just a moment and god what has he turned into. What has he done. He’s a fucking monster.

The man he had been is so damaged under the mantle of this vicious God he’s wearing as a skin that it’s barely alive anymore, and it’s what begs him to kill it in those fleeting moments where he sees past his own facade, where he just for a second realises how many people he has hurt.

He tore his throat out a couple of years before the start of the game story in a moment of lucidity after being sleep deprived for days on end. Tyreen reached him in time when his implanted vitals tracker each twin keeps for the other alerted her to his condition, but it was close enough that he was bedridden for days after her energy transfer closed the wound.

She had been furious with him and made sure it was was kept hushed, the rest of the clergy believing he was on reprieve. Only the twins know the truth of what happened.

He never takes the collars off anymore now, the scars are still there. Convincing Tyreen that it had had happened during a nightmare when he’d left his prosthetic on by mistake was easy. Convincing himself to try and forget he’d been lucid and how it still feels like the right thing to do, is not. 

By the point the story begins, Troy is in a constant state of exhaustion, and knows deep down everything he has been through and done to others was for nothing. Tyreen doesn’t care about him the way he does her. She may never have, or she changed, he doesn’t know anymore. 

What he does know, is that he won't ever be a real God, and that the only reason he’s still alive is because he is useful. 

Maybe he should never have tried so hard to be useful.

 Phew.

I guess in a nutshell, my Troy’s greatest downfall is the God King persona.

As long as that shit is active, as long as it’s being worshipped, he’s never going to snap into reality. The reality that other people are there, that he’s been hurt so badly as a person, it’s all impossible long as he is being treated as, and believes, he is a God. 

The manic moments of clarity he has in the later stages of the COV rule are few and far between, but they eat him alive as he can’t understand why he suddenly feels so terrible, why he’s filled with such consuming remorse.

Peel the God King off the broken man underneath it and you leave him bare, confused, scared. You make him have to deal with reality, with people, with himself. That’s when you get him to show regret, and understand what he’s done, and understand what Ty has done to him.

That’s the redemption.

When he realises the game he was playing was real for billions, and suffers for it. It ends where it ends as my Troy ain’t dyin’ :P I’ll get to my rewrite eventually.  I hope to keep exploring these ideas in the future. Just desperately wish I’d as much to work with for Tyreen as I do Troy. GB YOU HEAR THAT? YOU HEAR THATTTT??

[idga-buck]

use somebody || six

pairing: harry x plus-size!reader

word count: 2,700

warnings: mentions of sex, douchebaggery, and shitty attitudes toward women

summary: this thing with harry is about to take a turn as long as his friends don’t get into his head

challenge: @baezen​‘s the Other Guys Writing Challenge

gif: @sebastiansource​ (I know it’s TJ, okay? There is 9 minutes worth of Harry in Spread and not a lot of gifs to back it up, so suspend your disbelief)

Back in the Present

“Marissa’s pissed at me, so-“

“Maritza,” Harry corrected mindlessly and Nikki waved him off.

“Whatever… I’ll be over,” he looked around the open aired dance floor for a few seconds before selecting a hiding space, giant smirk on his face. “there.” Harry didn’t bother looking. “Don’t let them get too close.”

“Sure, man, just-“ Harry didn’t have to finish his sarcastic drone before the last of his friends had disappeared between writhing bodies. He was avoiding a woman he exploited and Harry had no moral obligations to help Nikki stay invisible so he could keep playing his dangerous game. Finding wealthy women and using them for sex and a comfortable place to stay as long as the sex was still good. It wasn’t the most honorable living, but the guy hadn’t fallen into the six figure modeling contract he expected when he stepped off the bus from Kansas. “Sorry, Dorothy,” Harry scoffed.

“Dorothy…” your voice had Harry scrambling to find you behind him, relieved to see your face and to see you in a good mood. “How many girls you got on the hook, Harry?” You were teasing him and he would welcome that on any holy or unholy day.

“Just enough,” he responded, taking hold of your arm and shuffling himself closer to you rather than pulling you towards him.

“I’ll bet,” you laughed and he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you right then. He probably would have too, if Marcus with his beautiful dark skin and his velvety voice hadn’t slid in just to disrupt him. He started to introduce himself, but Harry jumped in, speaking over his friend and reclaiming the power position as he made short and meaningless introductions for you. You smiled, but took a step toward Harry and it didn’t go unnoticed by either man. Harry tossed his arm around your shoulders proudly, more than pleased with the impressed smirk on Marcus’ perfect face.

Another voice jumped into the fray, pulling your attention, as your friend Maritza came barreling through the crowd, visibly upset. She’d just seen Nikki’s ass hanging out over his jeans while pinning someone new to the side of a jacuzzi tub and was making no efforts to hide his sluttiness from the strangers around her. You shrugged and let her pull you away from the men, sympathizing as best you could, but Harry could tell you were as annoyed by the situation as he was. Like middle school, but worse. Horny Patron soaked middle schoolers.

“So,” Marcus crossed arms and nodded to where you’d disappeared, knowing smile on his face. You don’t know anything. 

“Shut up,” Harry grumbled without letting his friend speak and turned away to find the bar, unfortunately finding Nikki in the process.

“Hey, have you seen-“

“Yeah,” Marcus laughed. “And she’s pissed.”

“She’s always pissed at stupid shit,” Nikki insisted while stripping off his sweater in the middle of the party to flip it right side out again. In true Nikki fashion, he took his time doing so, pausing to wink at a couple girls caught ogling him. Classy. 

“Because that’s what you do,” Harry pointed out. “Stupid shit. I mean, this is a new record. Kicked out in a week?”

“Three,” Nikki corrected, making Marcus laugh and clap him on the back of the head.

“So who’s next, Don Juan, got yourself another pretty woman in need of her own Julia Roberts?” Marcus probed, wiggling his eyebrows while he surveyed the party scene as if looking for clues.

“I thought Julia Roberts was Pretty Woman,” Nikki tried to defend himself.

“Yeah,” Harry piped up, “but you’re the whore.” Nikki’s very fake laugh was aggressive, but not as loud as Marcus’ real one. Soon their attention was turned to Harry, whose sudden silence was easily noted.

You’d emerged from whatever corner Maritza had you in and without your friend in distress, Harry was ready to get back to you.

“Harry’s the one with a mark,” Nikki teased, clicking his tongue against the inside of his teeth and Harry wanted to punch him for it. “Hear she’s got expensive taste though.”

“It’s not like that,” Harry insisted.

“It should be,” Nikki’s hand on his shoulder, stopping him as he tried to leave. “I wouldn’t roll around with all that, but-“

“Hey, now!” Marcus was quick to smack Nikki at the base of his skull.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped, but even Marcus came to your defense and he was pleased. Not all the guys he hung out with were terrible. It made him feel less terrible too.

“I’m serious man,” Nikki urged again, rubbing the back of his head and ignoring everything else. “She could buy out Marissa-“ there was no point in correcting him again. “Like that,” Nikki snapped his fingers and laid his hand on Harry’s chest, like they were having a heart to heart. “Play your cards right,” Harry shook his head no. “Think about it. Quit the job you hate, get a nicer place, import another Bolivian tree frog or whatever you’re into-” What an ass. Harry threw his arms up to shove Nikki away, but the wannabe model persisted. “Seal the deal, man, girls like that…” he shook his head and Harry frowned at it. “She’d be lucky to have a face like this wanting her,” Harry pulled away but Nikki was quicker, shooting up a hand to cup his jaw and squeeze his cheeks.

“I’m out of here.” He pushed past his friends, ignoring the continued encouragement and annoying conversation as he slipped through the crowd. He knew where to find something better. And a much better ending to his night if everything went well. He wanted to talk to you again, hang out again. He definitely wanted to kiss you again. More if you’d allow it.

You looked happy to see him and after three random encounters that always left his chest feeling heavy and his pants feeling betrayed, it was really all he could ask for. After informing him that his friend was a tool, to which Harry emphatically agreed, you two lingered on the topic of their short lived relationship. He’d seen you at her place a couple times over the course of Nikki’s scam and despite the messy ending, he was thankful to have had those chances to get even closer to you.

Once you were stretched out on the couch, making yourself at home, when the couple in question got into a fight that led them into another room for some screaming followed by loud make up sex. Harry stumbled upon the scene accidentally, but was driven directly into your side without hesitating. You laid next to each other on the ridiculously deep modular sectional, heads meeting in the corner of the L shape with your legs tossed out perpendicular to each other. He mimicked an awkward grunting noise that made you laugh and you responded with an exaggerated sigh that was pornographic on all counts, he had the semi to prove it. Not wanting to act on it in the middle of a stranger’s giant sunken living room, Harry laughed it off. Soon both of you were moaning loudly and obnoxiously in the hopes of embarrassing your friends into finishing quickly, but it didn’t work. Your stomachs ached, full with laughter, and soon enough, you -inspired by elation and the gentle warmth of amusement- had rolled over to kiss Harry right there. Without pausing to question the gift, he grabbed at the back of your neck and tried to maneuver his body under yours, but slid off the sofa as a result of his wiggling. You giggled at him and stayed on the cushions above him, while he stayed seated on the floor, leaning back into the corner of the sectional to kiss you again. It was slower and more focused than before and soon both of you were lost in it. By the time Nikki and Maritza emerged from whatever sex closet they’d just destroyed, your hand was under his zipper, rubbing him gently over his boxers. Harry had murder in his eyes when you jumped back, pulling away your wet lips and soft hand at the sound of their vengeful moaning- returning the favor for their friends at the worst possible moment.

The next was a dinner, small and remarkably classy for a shit like Nikki to pull off. Over cheese plates and fruit bowls and wine he’d probably never get again, Harry got to know the people in your circle better. They all smelled like money and he smelled like the CK One his grandmother sent him two Christmases ago. It was cheap next to them, but again your presence pulled him out of the sense that he didn’t belong. Your dry humor and willingness to call someone out for being ridiculous was the best part of the night. At least until he found you just outside the bathroom and pushed you back in for a moment alone. He kissed you hard and eager and your fingers curled around the embroidery on the front of his best shirt. You stayed like that, hushing each other as he pushed your dress up over your thick thighs until someone knocked and Harry’s fingers froze between your legs. In a moment of teasing bravery, he pushed hard against you, hoping his fingers would land in the vicinity of something good. Mid sentence, asking whoever it was for a few more minutes, you gasped and dug your nails into the back of his neck. Found it. The interruption left, but the moment was quickly closing in around him. Are we doing this? He’d asked hopefully. Not here. You were pulled out of dinner early by a phone call and Harry kicked his tires when he finally left, the night taking a swift nosedive after you were gone.

Harry would have liked to revisit that moment or any of the ones before it. Talk about going somewhere private so as not to be interrupted like usual. But you were too annoyed at your friends’ naivety and he let you vent. It sounded like you’d seen it happen to more than one of your friends and he was just thankful they weren’t all with Nikki. He was sure it would kill his chances, just by association. A cute guy with nothing, but his smile, charms his way into a big open floor plan and a cozy bed. After a couple months of endless sex and pricey accommodations, feeling like the real California king and not having to worry for anything, he’d find some extracurricular activities and engage until he was caught. Your friends were the ones left to foot the bill, emotionally and physically. You calmed yourself down quickly and apologized for shitting on his friend. Harry said it was fine and he meant it. 

He liked you. It was simple enough. He liked talking to you, liked imagining what it would be like to get you naked again. You made him laugh and made him nervous in ways he didn’t expect. He’d really liked kissing you and while admittedly not great at reading women, he’d bet you liked kissing him too. It was sort of a risky move, but he didn’t have any others so when you didn’t turn down the friendly hug he went in for, he swallowed the minuscule amount of pride he had left. Go for broke.

“Is your house ready?”

“Ready for what?” You laughed, pulling out of the hug, but keeping on hand on his ribs. If it was an attempt to keep him at arm's length, it backfired. He loved the feeling of you touching him so freely. You looked surprised that he recalling all the work being done and he hoped it sounded sincere, not creepy.

Harry recited what he remembered. Taking you back to a hotel, not your house. Then later, the first time you reconnected post awkward morning jilting, Harry had taken you back to a friend’s place. He also learned it was because a pipe burst in your master bathroom. After fighting and winning a drawn out claim with your insurance company, you’d been staying with Sherrie while you waited for fresh plumbing and new hardwood floors. When the damage had professionals tearing into your walls anyways, you jumped at the opportunity for a fresh layout and knocked down the wall between your kitchen and the rest of the house. That old college friend, Darius, offered up his kitchen as inspiration for the redesign and that was how Harry found you again. Over an expensive meal, he realized exactly how picky you were when it came to kitchens and he listened intently to everything wrong with your friend’s. Too commercial. Too impersonal. The soul of the home shouldn’t look like that. Harry offered the only plausible conclusion. Your friend Darius was a vampire, soulless and in need of many easy to clean surfaces. For the blood, of course. You’d been frozen in the warm candlelight and the seconds you took to process his joke felt like hours, but when you finally broke out into a laugh, a big one, Harry felt like he’d won a gold medal.

You were still listening to him go on with details from your own life, but he was running out. At least you weren’t running away.

“You remember all that?” You asked and Harry nodded, more than a little proud of himself.

“I listen,” he shrugged like it was nothing, but it wasn’t nothing. He had selective hearing, especially when it came to women. A habit he’d resigned himself to never breaking and always having to play catch up in a conversation. That’s how they ended up in arguments and how he was left looking dumb, nothing to say to someone who -to his knowledge- hadn’t said anything that required memorization. But he was really trying with you. Maybe the sting of a recent break up and her cruel words about his cavalier attitude had spurred him on. Being compared to his buddy, Nikki, was the nail in the coffin. He was trying to do better, be better. You were the first person to test his new efforts on and as he shamelessly glanced down to your chest, he didn’t mind the position he was in. “You’re easy to listen to,” he added and it felt more like the truth. You had a natural way about you and it made him feel like you were close friends after only just meeting. He felt it at Taix too, where it should have been awkward and stilted platitudes, stale get to know you questions. It wasn’t like that. He didn’t even know what you did for work, but he knew it had to be good money and that he’d call you if he ever got into a fight with his landlord. You seemed able to pull the best out of people without backing down or letting them walk all over you. It was hot. And sweet. Just like you.

The party was still ongoing and somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry registered that Garrett’s accent had slipped from some heavy northern english brogue into something offensively resembling Jamaican. He wasn’t bothered at his friend’s proximity and had no desire to look for them. Not when your hand was still on his ribs, absentmindedly thumbing the space just below his nipple. Your touch was both grounding and incredibly distracting. It took a lot of effort not to sound too eager when he asked to see the changes in your home. He had no idea what it looked like before, but he was very invested in this renovation project and was dying to see the results. He’d even ask for a tour of the whole place… stay too late, maybe pour a drink like he’d been there a hundred times just to make you laugh at him again. You were visibly thinking, milling the idea around while his hands slipped to your shoulders, thumbs resting against your collarbone.

He took his time leaning in, but when your fingers dipped under the waist of his jeans to pull him in closer he lost all restraint. Kissing you was way too good and if you said no now, Harry thought he might die. It’d been years since a girls lips got to him like this. The first wasn’t enough. Not he was being driven mad by all the build up, the accidental run ins, the inside jokes. He felt like a teenager again content to make out until his lips turned blue, terrified of what came next and whether or not he would be any good at it. You’d pulled away again and looked up with him, some unreadable glance that had him on pins and needles awaiting the final blow.

“Wanna get out of here?” you smiled suggestively.

And that gold medal feeling was back.