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[eeclare]

Haikyuu Fic Masterlist Pt. 7

Part 6 here

Part 5 here

Part 4 here

Part 3 here

Part 2 here

Part 1 here

The ever long awaited (by no one) masterlist part 7. I seriously did not think that this would have so many parts. (ps: am high writing this high so forgive for type-os)

One of my fav ships for a little while was YakuLev and yet, I barely have any fic recs for them. They’re just not usually the main pairing in a fic so it’s hard to find decently written fics for them. BUT I still have a few recommendations for them so enjoy!

Haiba Lev x Yaku Morisuke

One Step Closer

Word count: 8,192

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Yaku is an omega who likes to nest, and Lev is an alpha with a really nice scent. Unfortunately.

STOP omg I’m so sorry but you have to admit A/B/O is literally such an interesting and fun trope to read it’s just so strange and yet, so popular

The Lion and the House Cat

Word count: 3,337

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: The lion on Yaku Morisuke's wrist definitely doesn't apply to a certain tall, obnoxious first year. Nope. Not at all. No, Kuroo, he does NOT have a crush!

This one is very sweet and a soulmate AU!

thank god for the day I hear your name

Word count: 2,175

Rating: N/A

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: You’re sure the worst part is that you can feel it as it happens; it starts with fond amusement and escalates to dreams you’d rather not talk about and you’ve stared at the summer night-sky and thought about Lev like you’ve thought about home. You wish the stars would fall right down and shoot you where he’s burrowed his heart against yours and Haiba Lev is a problem.

This one is written in a very very interesting way. Def not for everyone and usually not for me but something about this fic just made me feel things and objectively speaking, it is a well written fanfiction

What Not to Wear

Word count: 4,857

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed: chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Yaku helps Lev dress for success, with no idea of the consequences.

I love this one! They truly are just a cute couple

Flowers and Ink

Word count: 3,903

Rating: N/A

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Yaku went to the flower shop next door to get inspiration for a commission, not to get a huge crush on the awful florist that worked there.

Very nice Tattoo/flower shop AU

Light On the Water <3<3<3<3

Word count: 1,532

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/-

Summary: Nekoma at the lake, in the swing of summer. All things surface from here.

Probably the most romantic and beautifully written fanfictions I have ever written. I have never been more in love with a fic please just read it even if you don’t like this pairing. Nostalgic feeling Drabble piece

i put sugar on everything

Word count: 7,300

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Yaku won’t admit it, but he lives for the smell of coffee.

I meannnnn

Yaku and The Beanstalk

Word count: 4,155

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Yaku Morisuke is many things: a libero, a caretaker, a good student. He's also about to find Lev Haiba stuck in a vending machine. (In which Yaku accidentally recruits Lev to the volleyball team and can't get rid of him after.)

Probably the most iconic YakuLev fic? It’s the one of the only ones with lots of hits/kudos/bookmarks

Innocent Enthusiasm <3<3

Word count: 17,192

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 3/3

Summary: Yaku was perfectly happy with no-one knowing he was an omega. He was also perfectly happy not ever going through a heat thanks to suppressants. And then the wet dream happened. The wet dream that Lev also had. And so Yaku now has to deal with his confused feelings for his kouhai whilst Lev seems oblivious to how his innocent enthusiasm for everything sends Yaku insane...in a good way. It's amazing what can happen in the span of a few days.

Second fav fic for this pairing :D A/B/O but it’s rlly good

Touch <3

Word count: 10,513

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: After a twisted ankle and an uncomfortable realization, Yaku starts to see a different side of Lev—one he doesn't want to kick at all. (Or, well... not often.)

AWWWH CUTIES

five minutes <3

Word count: 16,341

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Lev thinks he's great at sex. Yaku begs to differ, but isn't unwilling to help him learn.

I love this one! (Non-fetishized) Trans Yaku and just a tone of eating out it’s fun

Those are my YakuLev fics! Next up, UshiTen! They are another one of my favourite rare pairs!

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Tendou Satori

Ushijima’s World Is Around 71.1 kgs

Word count: 1,071

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/-

Summary: The old crew from Shiratorizawa get together for a drinking party and everyone gets to see first hand just how strong Ushijima still is and how much he loves his boyfriend.

Short and sweet!

Queen of His People <3<3<3

Word count: 40,573

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 22/22

Summary: Six years before Kageyama and Hinata found each other, Tendou Satori found his place among his chosen people.

Second favourite UshiTen fic! This has no smit but it’s so worth it because it is completely plot based and the world building is fucking incredible. I mean it when I say this is my favourite author ever

And they are roommates

Word count: 1,793

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “Wakatoshi, are you ready...to move into the future?!” Tendou yelled, dramatically pointing at him. Ushijima smiled and walked over to Tendou. They had been dating for a few years, and after graduating high school, had decided to move in together. “Of course, Satori.” “Well, then I was thinking-“ “But we aren’t getting this bed.”

This one is a bit of crack bit of seriousness idk guys lol

In the Comfort of Your Bedsheets

Word count: 2,378

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary; There's a bird tattooed across his shoulders, and he knew from the moment he saw Wakatoshi, that they were meant to be.

AWH I love them

i ain’t got anything to be afraid of

Word count: 4,984

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed, chapters 1/1

Summary: 5 times Tendou attempts to scare Ushijima (and fails), and 1 time he doesn’t try (but succeeds).

This one is written well and really sweet!

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) <3

Word count: 10,730

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?” Reon froze. “T-Tendou?” “Yes.” Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections. “I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep. But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably. Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

I love this fic! It’s so funny and I love the team dynamics in this it makes me giggle

shuffle

Word count: 13,437

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “I, uh…” Tendou starts, smile going wobbly with uncertainty, “could you… pretend to date me?” Ushijima shockingly doesn’t fall backwards, nor does he immediately say ‘no’. Instead he continues staring at Tendou, fear now overcome by even more confusion.

This feels like a rom-com

miracle boy wakatoshi <3<3

Word count: 4,933

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: he thinks that he has never before wanted this much to be struck by lightning.

Ushijima character study that’s just so beautifully written and poetic, in a way

The Lifespan of Koala’s

Word count: 2,660

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Recently Satori has been feeling pestered by certain inconvenient emotions regarding their captain, and he’s been brainstorming ways to get rid of them. The easiest thing, he thinks, would be to just date him.

This one’s fun!

in the garden i get lost (that is unless I’m getting found) <3

Word count: 2,889

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Tendou Satori’s cause of death: Ushijima Wakatoshi in the garden with his shirt off.

It really feels like Satori is actually a teenager in this one it’s refreshing

Midnight Snacks <3

Word count: 2,090

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: There's nothing like a late night study session to make you a little peckish.

Lady Tendou is so hot I literally cannot fathom it holy fuck

Five Times Ushijima Wakatoshi Absolutely Lost His Shit <3

Word count: 8,241

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: And then that one time he didn't, when he really should have, because Tendou Satori absolutely was.

This fic is so funny! I just love these two together

Let Him Go <3<3<3

Word count: 27,013

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: The story in which Ushijima joins the Japanese International U-21 team and they have to deal with distance.

My fav fic for this pairing! They are just too cute lol objectively Queen of his People has writing that’s more appealing to me but I’ve read this fic so many times it’s just so amazing

That’s if for UshiTen they’re so sweet and such an underrated couple Ushijima needs more love guys

Takeda Ittetsu x Ukai Keishin

Smoothie-Senpai

Word count: 3,692

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “Please let me be the only one who gets to smell you.” The omega froze. He was pretty sure Ukai wasn’t using any sort of pheromones on him, but even so his knees were about to give. That was a confession, wasn’t it?

This is an A/B/O fic but I actually really enjoyed this one!

along dream paths

Word count: 3,228

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Ukai makes the mistake of looking in Takeda's notebook after practice one day, expecting volleyball notes; what he finds is a love poem.

Really really sweet!

5th Time’s the Charm <3

Word count: 3,002

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Takeda had never been one to give up on things easily, never one to just give in when he’d had his heart set on something. And his heart was set on Ukai.

A/B/O porn with very little plot

Kuroo Tetsurou x Tsukishima Kei

of broken and beautiful souls

Word count: 2,982

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Like others too, Kenma wished that his soul is beautiful.

This one is quite sad lol and it’s Kenma-centric idk why I added this here tbh

Say You Like Me <3

Word count: 9,057

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed: chapters 3/3

Summary: It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

I think this one is my fav for these two lol

The Bite Mark

Word count: 520

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “Kuroo,” Kenma blinked at him, faint concern crinkling the corners of his eyes, “What is that?”

This one makes me chuckle lmfao

Only You

Word count: 2,203

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: But Kuroo should’ve known better. Because bonded or not, Tsukki had always been an immensely jealous person. Not that he was the kind to display it openly. But the moment they got behind closed doors, the alpha always let Kuroo know just how upset he was. And Kuroo would be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping for this exact reaction.

Very rare omega Kuroo A/B/O

Not super huge into these two but I think my recs are pretty good

Kuroo Tetsurou x Sawamura Daichi

Rules are Made to be Broken

Word count: 1,631

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Kuroo has a strict no dating rule when it comes to his co-workers but maybe there's one exception when it comes to that rule.

This one’s fun lol

A Couple of Pervs

Word count: 9,276

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Kuroo and Daichi had only lived together a little while, but already the sexual tension was driving them crazy. All it takes is a combination of thin walls and a gift from Kuroo's grandpa to finally make that tension burst.

The writing is alright but it’s worth the read if ur looking for porn no plot

Print and Press (me between your thighs) <3

Word count: 5,834

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: the time Bokuto is the best/worst wingman ever and Kuroo understands how Blanche Devereaux felt when she wished for death.

One of my favs! Makes me feel things

The faster we’re falling <3

Word count: 3,422

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Sawamura Daichi is really hot. But also so much more. And it’s a huge fucking problem.

Another favourite! Just rlly good

Seen a Million Faces (but i’ve been waiting for you)

Word count: 33,322

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In all his time as a dance instructor, Kuroo has had his fair share of newcomers walk into his classes at Nekoma. But there were dance newbies, and then there was Sawamura Daichi.

Ugh I love this fic

Meet Your Match

Word count: 6,071

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Up until now, he’s managed to keep sex and volleyball separate. He’d learned early on, whether they be teammates or rivals, getting involved in any play outside the court with fellow volleyballers was ill-advised. Ok, there’d been Ushijima in university but who could blame him? And they’d remained friends after. Besides, he didn’t know Sawamura would be one of his players at the time and now that he is that’s that. At least, that's what he's telling himself.

Older DILF Kuroo and younger Daichi I love age gap ones as long as they’re legal

Salt and Lime

Word count: 3,151

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Along with Hanamaki's grin, Kuroo knew he made the unwise decision. "Hey, I know the perfect dare for Kuroo and Sawamura." Kuroo gulped and felt his body froze. "Let Kuroo drink body shot off of Sawamura’s." Kuroo felt like he was dying inside. "I'll prepare the shot," Kiyoko chimed in cooly, as she got up to take whatever she needed from the bar. And Kuroo knew that he was, so screwed.

This one’s a good read lol

Lifeguard Dude <3

Word count: 6,945

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: It's spring break. Everything is going great, until Daichi looks up and sees the hottest lifeguard he's ever seen in his life.

Oh my GOD

Sweetheart

Word count: 1,439

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions"

The sweetest lil A/B/O Drabble

I Wanna be Official

Word count: 4,269

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Tetsurou thought claiming to have a boyfriend would be the easiest way to reject someone's confession. He didn't expect it to backfire though, and ultimately have him falling for his roommate and dear friend Daichi.

Another Drabble that I find fun

go the distance <3

Word count: 5,411

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: daichi has a hard time dealing with the distance between them, and he ends up making the biggest mistake of his life because of it. but he's determined to make up for it, no matter what it takes.

Angst with a happy ending im literally obsessed

we move like the ocean

Word count: 17,722

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Transferring to the University of Tokyo had been in Daichi Sawamura's plans, meeting Kuroo Tetsurou had not.

This fic is literally like 50 shades of grey lol idk how else to describe ht

catch and release <3

Word count: 18,531

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: "Sawamura-kun, don't tell me you're actually a virgin?" Daichi flushes a deep red and Kuroo's grin turns positively wicked.

I really love how this fic captures Daichi’s character!

ride

Word count: 28,065

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which there are cars, kissing, and cute dogs.

So cute!

I love these two! Probably even more than DaiSuga lol I’m sorry they’re just not my bread and butter like KuroDai is

Miya Atsumu x Sakusa Kiyoomi

Peace of Routine

Word count: 8,474

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: After Atsumu moved to Tokyo, Sakusa's daily routine never recovered. He no longer worked solo jobs, he doubled his spending on cleaning products, and he rarely slept alone. Sakusa would have hated those things, before he met Atsumu. Now he wouldn't want his routine any other way.

I think this is probably my fav for SakuAtsu

Read the Receipt

Word count: 6,689

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “I think we’re done here, thank you, Osamu. If we could just have the bill?” As though waiting for those words, Osamu removed a small square of paper from his pocket. And leaned over to slam the paper down on the table in front of Sakusa. “You’re paying tonight.” “What?”, Atsumu squawked, his eyebrows traveling further up his forehead. “Why?” “He knows why.”

Probably the ultimate proposal AU ngl

Call Me Maybe

Word count: 1,799

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: “What caused your nosebleed?” Dr. Sakusa asks, typing something into a computer next to him. “M’ brother smacked me in the face with a Wii controller,” Atsumu tells him. “We were playing Just Dance 4,” he adds. Dr. Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “What song?” He asks, and suddenly Atsumu feels very awkward. “Call Me Maybe,” he mumbles.

This one’s funny!

In Full Bloom <3

Word count: 9,598

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Sakusa has fallen in and out of love more times than he can count on one hand, his heart's restless endeavours forever marked by the flowers that bloomed across his skin. Just as he wrestles his heart under control, Atsumu comes crashing in once more, awakening long-forgotten feelings and painting Sakusa's life in the warmest rays of sunlight. But as fate would have it, Sakusa cannot stop loving Atsumu when he needs to more than ever.

They just can’t stop loving each other

It’s not Complaining, it’s Questioning <3

Word count: 1,669

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: In which Sakusa is annoyed that Atsumu picked Aran as a roommate and Ushijima and Komori have to deal with it.

Jealous Sakusa is so funny he’s such a whiny baby lmfao

Ode to the Night Sky

Word count: 2,403

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: The concept of a muse was so foreign and out of reach for Kiyoomi before he met Atsumu. He drew inspiration from the world around him, but having one thing, one person be the driving force behind his creativity had sounded laughable. It's in nights like these that he wonders how he could have ever been so naive to the strength a muse could have.

Body worship is just so good guys

Shades of Ink

Word count: 12,667

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 3/3

Summary: It’s fortunate that Miya Atsumu is such a good tattoo artist, because that appears to be his only redeeming quality. He’s too loud, too cocky, and so overtly flirtatious that Sakusa almost leaves the shop before he even steps inside. But he’s seen firsthand that Atsumu does good work, so he stays and suffers through it. The longer he's there, the more he thinks maybe Atsumu isn't all bad. When Atsumu asks for a tattoo from Sakusa’s shop in return, Sakusa knows he should turn Atsumu down. He doesn’t. What should have been a routine business transaction turns into something more hands-on than either of them expected.

Love tattoo AUs lol

Goodnight Kiss

Word count: 4,731

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Sakusa’s fingers curled at Atsumu’s jaw, hovering, before falling away. “We can’t be friends with benefits, considering we’re not friends.” Atsumu smiled, because Sakusa’s voice wasn’t completely flat. There was a familiar twist to it, sharp but not wounding. “Wanna be friends, then?” “No.” Atsumu glanced down at Sakusa’s hand. “Wanna be somethin’ else instead?” Sakusa didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either. He glanced away and then back. “I don’t know.”

This is a really good one! Well written and a little angsty

ink blossoms

Word count: 8,168

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Opening a flower shop wasn’t the first idea Atsumu had for his future but in retrospect he wouldn’t trade it for anything. There was a certain joy in arrangements and learning the language of flowers so each bouquet meant something perfect. His little flower shop was a humble but bright place among the cobblestone plaza and people came and went with flowers for their loved ones. The business was good, the customers were kind, and the company he kept was amazing. It was perfect. At least until the tattoo parlor across the plaza finally opened.

Flower shop/tattoo artist AU lol

Notice <3

Word count: 7,034

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Embarrassingly, Miya Atsumu is the third person to notice his crush on Sakusa. And it's his crush in the first place.

This one is really funny and def one of my favs for this rare pair! Just such a good lil Drabble

School Bus Yellow

Word count: 4,904

Rating: General Audiences

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Atsumu has a crush on Sakusa, and it’s kind of ridiculous how much he likes a guy who wears ugly colored jackets and is afraid of germs. Though, Atsumu’s probably not all that great himself. He’s still figuring that part out.

This is the first SakAtsu I’ve ever read and it’s a little angsty with a lot of happy ending lol

Goshiki Tsutomu x Kawanishi Taichi

Knight and Bishop <3<3

Word count: 52,722

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 35/35

Summary: Three years before Tendou Satori comes to Shiratorizawa, Shirabu and Semi learn to live with each other, and to love.

I’m literally obsessed with this author’s royalty AUs omfg this series is literally incredible

Say Yes

Word count: 3,087

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Goshiki and Kawanishi both want to propose to one another and seek advice from Tendou.

If you’re just looking into some new pairings to read and you come across these two, this fic is part one of a series for them :)

Bokuto Koutarou x Kuroo Tetsurou

Victors <3

Word count: 5,255

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Kuroo and Bokuto were longtime rivals in the ring, but grew into something else behind the scenes. They've climbed to the top of the MMA hierarchy, and find themselves competing against one another for the championship title. It's a hard fight that leaves them bruised and bloody, but that's nothing new. Neither is the way they take care of each other afterward, in more ways than one.

Love MMA fighter AUs and this one is just wow

amarillion <3

Word count: 12,096

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: the story of how Koutarou falls for his best friend.

I fucking adore this fic. Bokuto and Akaashi’s friendship in this is everything they’re so supportive of each other and I just love the lil character study in this

Behind the Scene

Word count: 21,768

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 5/5

Summary: Kuroo is a typical college student. He goes to class, struggles through homework, and goes to the occasional party with his friends. The only atypical thing about him is his choice of part-time job. Kuroo isn't ashamed of doing cam work. He's certainly making more money than his friends who spend hours at a time working in restaurants or coffee shops. He enjoys the work, he makes his own schedule, and the other cam boys in his network aren't bad to look at, either. He's fond of one in particular, the ever-popular NightOwl. As it turns out, NightOwl is a fan of Kuroo's, too.

YAS camboy AU that has my heart I love

I know they’re best friends but that’s what makes their chemistry so awesome even tho I think irl they wouldn’t make a good couple lol

Daishou Suguru x Kozume Kenma

Reliable

Word count: 1,003

Rating: Mature

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Kuroo makes the mistake of leaving Kenma alone in a club. Frustrated at his best friend, Kenma leaves with a handsome rival who shows him a good night and then takes him home like a gentleman. Kuroo is not pleased.

This pairing is interesting to say the least. I enjoyed this fic tho ngl

Kageyama Tobio x Oikawa Tooru

Not Enough

Word count: 7,640

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 2/2

Summary: Kageyama and Oikawa realized they were soulmates in Junior High. Too bad Oikawa wants nothing to do with Kageyama.

This is the only fic for these two that I have because they are really not my favourite at all

Bokuto Koutarou x Kozume Kenma

I’m Which Bokuto Is Sorely Mistaken

Word count: 566

Rating: Teen +

Status: Completed; chapters 2/2

Summary: Sure, Bokuto knew how good Kenma was at video games. Of course he did, he was best friends with his best friend, he’d heard all the stories of Kenma destroying Kuroo five times a day when they were growing up. But, let’s be honest, that didn’t mean much, considering Bokuto also destroyed Kuroo every time they tried to have a “friendly contest”.

This one is just so weirdly good I never would have considered Bokuto and Kenma being together omfg

Oikawa Tooru x Ushijima Wakatoshi

Old Grudges <3

Word count: 6,475

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Oikawa never liked Ushijima. At least, until he accidentally started sleeping with him. Oikawa convinces himself that the sex isn't a problem. It's just a night here and there with no strings attached. They don't even have to like each other. But the more time they spend together, the more Oikawa realizes it's impossible to hate someone like Ushijima.

Another pairing I’m not huge on because I don’t think Oikawa is the kind of person to get over grudges but I fucking LOVE how they’re portrayed together in this fic it’s fucking beautiful

Iwaizumi Hajime x Semi Eita

Blacktop Rivalries <3<3

Word count: 31,006

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 6/6

Summary: When Oikawa first put together the motorcycle gang, Iwaizumi thought it was stupid. Now, several years later, the best days of his life are when he's on the road, lost in the rush of the wind and the thrill of the ride. It's by chance that he meets a fellow biker on a solo ride, and the two of them get along a little too well. Everything is great until Iwaizumi discovers Semi Eita is a member of Shiratorizawa, a rival biker gang that he has been conditioned to despise. They agree it's in their best interest to stop seeing each other before anyone discovers the affair. As it turns out, that's easier said than done

Another pairing where I say, how the FUCK did someone come up with this? And yet. AND YET it works. Like so well

Afterparty <3<3

Word count: 4,961

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed; chapters 1/1

Summary: Semi hadn't planned to be here, on his knees in the low light of his apartment, with his mouth full of a stranger's cock. He hadn't planned it, but things had escalated, and it was all Semi's fault. He blamed the show. The atmosphere had been electric, addictive. The crowd was loud, his band's performance had been flawless, and Semi had sang better than he'd ever sang before. It had left him with a particular sort of high. He was flying, and when he left the stage, he'd flown right into Iwaizumi Hajime. "Remember what I said to you at the venue?" asked Semi, his voice low, raspy. "I said I want you to hold me down and fuck me until I beg you to stop."

Seriously just incredible chemistry all around like hello???

Okay okay okay this is the LAST fic on my master list! We are really finished. For now, at least. I’m not a huge fanfiction reader anymore but on the occasions I find a new one I like I will add it here! I really hope that I’ve been able to help at least one person broaden their haikyuu horizons then this will all be worth it :)

[joys-of-everyday]

Attachment

I have been away for a while, during which I have finished a degree (whoo!) and lost all of my drafts (sad!). I had a fancy website for organisation and I closed the tab and 6 months passed and I simply cannot remember where they have gone. So, back to word documents and I’m never putting my faith in a website again, at least not without bookmarking it. Any threads I was working on are gone. Adios! Probably for the better, since I’ve lost my momentum on them.

I’ve sufficiently curated my feed such that fandom discourse mostly doesn’t reach me unless I actively go out and search for it, and who has time for fandom discourse when you’re crying over exams, but inevitably SY vs SJ drama peaks in sometimes and… isn’t discourse so fascinating? Don’t you want to overanalyse it like you have nothing better to do in your life?

I love discourse, truly. It gives me so much joy.

You know, back in the ancient days (2020), I got into cpop. Cringe. Why is the idol fandom like this? Why am I like this? Anyway, I discovered an idol whose words… touched me. Deeply. Utterly transcendent. Relatable af. My gawd my blorbo understands me like nobody else etc. etc. I literally wrote down quotes and stuck them to my wall, that was how far it got (and I didn’t even have the excuse of being a teenager).

Now, unsurprising to those with any awareness of how the internet operates, as quickly as discovering the parasocial love of my life, I ran into the fans and the antis. ... .... *sigh*. There’s a lot to say about the dynamic of these groups, but what strikes me about that time is a vivid memory of obsessively reading anti content and feeling… well, hurt. More than hurt. Personally attacked. It was like everything I found relatable in this idol was being publicly criticised by the faceless masses, and all my worst fears about how people hated me were right there on the screen. I had to remove myself from idol news because it was really starting to get to me.

And as much as it was distressing, it was fascinating for me experiencing it, because I was a sensible adult (questionable) by this time! I knew the difference between reality and fiction! (and idols, as a brand, are basically fiction) But in relating to a figure on screen, in attaching a metaphorical part of myself to that figure, I’d opened myself up to a strange kind of vulnerability. Through this proxy, I’d put myself out into the world, and was automatically interpreting any negativity, regardless of whether it specifically applied to me or not, as an attack on me.

This, of course, is stupid. They weren’t attacking me. They didn’t even know of my existence. Even if, yes, the things being criticised were sometimes related to me and my experiences, 1) they were not criticising me and 2) online criticism tends to be… a teensy bit exaggerated.

To bring this back slightly, fictional characters can be an extremely powerful way to work through feelings that are a little bit too ugly to confront with directly. Maybe I’m weird, but I do this intensely. Most of my emotional processing involves sobbing over made-up situations involving fictional characters at inconvenient times of the day. The flip side to this is that what should be not-that-deep discussions on fictional characters are quick to turn personal, and are completely blown out of proportion in my mind.

I don’t really have a point here. This is mostly a self-conceited ramble about some experiences I’ve had. But some advice, which you are welcome to ignore if it’s not relevant: you are not a character on a screen. Any judgement of characters on screens are not a judgement of you as a person. And if it ever feels like it’s getting to you, go touch grass. Or open a window. Or - as my algebraic topology lecturer liked to say - drink a vat of gin. Whatever works for you.

[sqsupernova]

How to Post your Works to the SQSupernova Collection!

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[thedaughterofkings]

this here be a rant about deleting fic. Proceed at your own peril

Okay, so, let me preface this with another caution. I am sad and mad and just plain emotional about this, so there’ll likely be some hyperbole. It is not directed at anyone personally in particular, but more a general frustration that I need to get off my chest. I’ll try to keep it as calm and kind as I can, but this is also not going to be an essay that’s nicely thought out and edited. Both because it’s just not worth the effort (the chances of anyone actually reading this are rather slim) and because I want to get this off my chest, not spend even more time on it. So, again, proceed with caution.

I hate that people keep deleting their fics from AO3. And I honestly side-eye them for it. Yes, there are endless reasons for why people delete their fics and all of them might be seen as “valid” by someone, but I basically don’t care (if anyone does end up reading this and feels like arguing - this is one of those hyperboles. I’m not looking for a list of “actually really valid reasons”.)

I think one of the issues that I have with this trend of deleting fic is how it goes against my fundamental understanding of fandom, which is very much collective rather than individual. For me, fandom is about coming together, about uniting in shared love (or frustration, as frequently also is the case) for a medium. Yes, I write for myself, but I publish for fandom. I see my fics as gifts to fandom - not in the sense that anyone should be grateful to get them, but in the sense of bringing another cake to the endless buffet of fandom. And like, you know, I’m not going to bring a cake to a buffet to take it all back home with me? (In fact, that is a very frustrating experience. Would not recommend.)

So, on that fundamental level, I don’t get deleting your fic.

I get wanting to disassociate yourself from fic. But AO3 has features for that.

We have the orphaning feature, which cuts your account completely off that particular fic, all data linking back to your account being deleted irreversibly. That can be done for individual fics, whole series, or even every single fic in your account in one fell swoop. The advantages for this on your side are that there’ll be no connection to your AO3 account anymore, anywhere in your fic. The advantages for your fellow fans are that, for one, and this is the biggest advantage in my opinion, the fic still exists. It is still available to be read and reread and loved by everyone. On the more technical side of things, AO3 orphaning leaves all links and AO3 bookmarks intact, which really is great, if you’ve ever tried to follow a broken link!

The other AO3 option is turning your fic anonymous. This works the same way as with fests that start out anonymous work. You add your fic to one of the many anonymous collections you can find on AO3 and the settings for that collection will get rid of your username on the front end. Anyone who reads that fic will see the author as “anonymous” and will find no connection to your account. The difference to orphaning your work is that the data connecting the fic to your account is still there on the back end. You will still see the fic on your account (but no one else); you’ll still be able to reply to comments; you’ll be able to edit the fic, or undo turning it anonymous. You basically retain all of the control while still loosing the association.

Another option would be to make a completely new account, a sock account if you will, and add the fics you don’t want on your main account anymore there. This should work by adding your new account as co-creator and then orphaning the fics from your main account. That way you’ll retain control while still getting the distance.

It obviously depends on you which option you prefer, but they are there for you to choose from and I wish more people would choose them, because they are actually in line with what AO3 was created for. Which brings me to another of my main issues with deleting fics from AO3 - it goes diametrically against my understanding of what the AO3 is - an ARCHIVE. The ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN was created to host our fics, to provide a space for them to be saved, archived for future generations of fans, to prevent them from being deleted. And to delete a fic from that archive just feels so wrong to me. Fandom is no stranger to lost fics, I’ve gone through many a rec list with not a single link working and it’s the worst thing, but it used to be that that was unwanted. Fics were deleted because FF.net culled all nc-17 fic, because Livejournal suffered through strikethroughs, because yahoo deleted geocities, and so on. Now the deletion is intentional and that just hurts all the more. And it honestly feels - meanspirited is way too strong, but I can’t think of anything else right now - it certainly feels wrong to delete them of AO3, the archive of our own, from servers fandom pays for, fandom upholds, fandom created for fic to be saved from sudden deletion.

On a sidenote, because the above are my really my main issues, but I’ve got to quickly address deleting fics to turn them into sellable fiction. That’s the part I really, truly side eye. This feels like it should be another rant on another day in another post, but I’m at it already anyways, so I’m going to get it off my chest as well. Obviously orphaning or turning fics anonymous doesn’t work if you want to sell them and people can just find them free on the internet. So I guess that makes it a “valid” reason, but it’s honestly the thing that makes me never want to buy a book by an author ever.

I am of the resolute belief that fic and fandom should be free and available for all. Both on the fandom side - it makes fic and fandom accessible to all, whatever your financial or otherwise situation, and on the canon side - it protects fic and fandom from the Anne Rice’s of this world (or rather allows the lawyers of the otw to protect us). So to take a free fic away from fandom to sell it just feels profoundly wrong. Especially after having it hosted on AO3 before (see above).

There’s also a really big questionmark for me when it comes to the separation from canon for me. Like, taking Sterek as an example, if I switch out names, but still have a werewolf whose family died in a housefire and a human thrown into the supernatural world because his best friend got bitten and he helps him figure things out, then those characters still aren’t “mine” and I don’t get to make money off them?! And if I’ve changed them so much that they are not recognisable as Stiles and Derek anymore, then ... was I really writing fanfic to begin with?

Which leads to my second frustration with this particular instance of deleting fics - it makes me as a reader feel like a guinea pig, like a test audience, and adds to that line of thought of “fic is lesser”. So you’ve practised writing fic and now you are a good enough writer to move on to “traditional, original, published, sellable” fiction, and because fandom loved this fic in particular so much, it’s passed the test to become the better fiction. And I hate that.

Mind, I’m not saying I don’t support fic authors who are also authors that publish works the traditional, money making way! I’ve bought and will keep buying books from fic authors. Because obviously fic authors are amazing writers and it doesn’t matter whether their work is transformative or not! However, I will not buy a book that I recognise as fic. It’s either going to be stolen and I don’t want to support that or it’s going to be a fic that got deleted so I could now pay for it - and I’m not even going to be able to tell because it’s not going to have “originally published by author abc on AO3″ on the cover, is it!

And finally, if the issue is that you’re going to apply for a job and you don’t want them to find your whatever fic? I’m going to be real blunt: This is why we don’t post our real name on the internet. Simple as that. Internet safety, kids. It’s not just a nineties meme.

Okay, that’s it, I think. If you’ve made it so far, I just want to say: I hate that people keep deleting their fics from AO3. But I most of all hate it because I love those fics. Because there’s always going to be people who love those fics. And people who would have loved those fics and can now no longer find them. Dear fic authors, I love you, and I beg of you - please don’t delete your fics.

[damienthepious]

hello loves. I knew this was going to be my last Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday offering until december, so I wanted to make sure it counted. My goals for this month? Finish that little one-two punch fic from earlier, publish a 100th fic, and...

well...

finish this. So. Here we go...

Scattered On My Shore (Chapter 19 - End)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10] [Ch 11] [Ch 12] [Ch 13] [Ch 14] [Ch 15] [Ch 16] [Ch 17] [Ch 18] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum & The Keep

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Pre-Relationship, (for the three of them. it’s established r/d), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, (this will also be), Enemies to Lovers, (for damien and arum eventually lol), Mutual Pining, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings

Fic Summary: Strange things wash up out of the lake near Rilla’s hut, on occasion. But this monster… this monster is certainly the strangest.

Chapter Summary: Stay 'till you can breathe like normal people do / I've got room in my house for you

Chapter Notes: End of the road, huh? Never dreamed this fic would get this long, never dreamed it would mean this much to me. This is the longest piece of fiction I've ever written, and the longest work I've ever completed by a country mile. Thank you for hanging in there with me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for every kudos and comment and bookmark. Thank you. Chapter summary from the song Midland, by The Mountain Goats. Have I ever shared my playlist for this fic? See the end of the chapter notes, I'll stick a link there.

~

The first night on the road home is probably the most difficult.

It's-

It's the first time that Rilla has gone to bed without Arum in literal shouting distance in… in months.

She doesn't say anything about it. She doesn't know what to say about it. Arum is safe, and she and Damien are going home, and they're going to see him again. They are. It's stupid to get all emotional about the fact that they- they're just going to need to deal with a little separation, for a few weeks or so.

Damien douses the fire as Rilla steels herself, flattening her face, arranging their bedroll. Damien comes to lay down beside her, and when he slips his arms around her, she tries to sigh, and- her breath catches.

Damien does not flinch. He presses his lips just above her brow, and she can feel the sympathetic tension in his arms as they settle in the bedroll, curling against each other, as close as they can manage despite the heat.

"I know," he whispers, and Rilla grits her teeth. "I know, my love. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she manages. "Nothing to be sorry about."

"Of course it will be a challenge, this journey," Damien murmurs into her hair. "Especially this night. He is still so close, speaking relatively. So close we can still see that subtle, mellow glow from his swamp on the horizon. So close, and yet… riding away from him aches in my heart like a betrayal. We must, of course. Our duties, our lives… and I miss the Citadel as well. Miss the safety and warmth of your hut, miss… ah," she feels his lip curl into a small smile against her temple. "Ah, but there is the other side of the dilemma, yes? It is so difficult to think of your home, now, without…"

Without Arum there, too.

Rilla sniffs lightly, readjusting her grip on Damien beneath the heavy cloth, and then she pokes him in the side, making him exhale a gust of laughter.

"Faster we fall asleep, faster we'll be on the road again," she mutters. "Faster we're home, faster we'll find out exactly what the hell that plant he gave us actually does."

"Ah- right. I suppose you're right, my love."

"Just-" she clocks her head off his cheek, pursing her lips when that makes him laugh again. "Shush. Sleep now, mope later."

He hums an agreement, soft and soothing, and settles beside her. "Goodnight, my flower. I love you."

Rilla manages the ghost of a smile, feeling one of Damien's hands gently caressing up and down her back. "I love you too. Now go to sleep already."

He nods, light laughter still on his lips, and then he kisses her cheek one more time before he closes his eyes, and Rilla sighs and closes her eyes as well.

She doesn't exactly take her own advice, though.

The discomfort, the worry, the knowledge that she can't just call out and make sure that Arum's still okay- her mind won't slow down enough for sleep to take her, not for what feels like a long time.

It's okay, though. It's okay.

Damien is here with her. His hand keeps up that steady rhythm, his palm soft as his fingers trace up and down her back, gentle as rain, and clearly he's not exactly drifting off either.

They don't say anything else. Rilla thinks they both know it won't do any good, won't make them feel any better. They don't speak, but they can still hold each other, silent and longing despite themselves, and eventually, eventually, they will sleep.

And tomorrow they'll be another step closer to home.

~

The temperature in the Keep is the same as it always has been, but Arum finds himself cold, more often than not. The remainder of his injuries itch . Amaryllis left him with a number of salves to apply, to reduce the scarring, to speed the already-sped healing process, but it is… strange, to apply it himself. It felt different, before, smoothed across the ragged scabs by her soft, attentive, confident fingers. His own scales are cool. His own fingers do not hold the same softness. It feels perfunctory, now. Awkward and stiff. And-

When she finished tending to him, rewrapping bandages or checking his temperature or applying salve, Amaryllis would always… touch him, then. A gentle tap, on his shoulder, on his elbow. A silent signal, accompanied with a smile, to let him know she was done, before she would stand straighter and turn to attend to other tasks.

Once, when he is done smoothing his fingers across his fading wounds, he reaches across his body and taps his own elbow, hesitant, and then he feels so utterly foolish, so strangely empty, that he-

He does nothing. He simply hurts, for a long moment, before he sighs and sets the salve aside.

The Keep tries, in its way, to soothe this pain as it is soothing his actual injuries, but it is… not precisely the same. He is grateful for the Keep's attempts at physicality, grateful for the touch of vines, grateful to sleep cocooned in soft, oversized petals, even if it makes him feel like a coddled hatchling again.

("You're healing," Amaryllis says, stern and gentle. "Being rough on yourself is only going to make it take even longer. Just- let me take care of you, you big stubborn idiot.")

He misses her. He misses them both. He knew he would, before they left, but-

He spent so, so long missing the Keep. He is quite tired of missing.

~

During the day, they ride.

They can travel much more quickly, without needing to worry over the wounds of an injured monster. It will make the return trip substantially faster, but-

Neither of them feel as if it is truly going faster.

It reminds Rilla of paradoxes. It reminds Damien of a chiasmus, the reversal with new perspectives. Neither of them discuss it, though they both urge the horse faster, both eye the horizon with skeptical intent, as if it is widening from them deliberately.

It is a relief, not to worry over Arum's safety while they ride, not to have to duck their heads and avoid the eyes of other travelers, not to need to lie. They don't need to slow down to check him over and make sure none of his injuries have started bleeding, they don't need to break from travel to find a safe place hidden far away from the road to rest in each night. It's another odd overlay- the hurt of leaving him behind shaded by the relief of knowing that he's safe, and home, and healing. Rilla can't stop herself from mentioning where she thinks he'll be in his recovery day by day, based on her estimates considering how the Keep seemed to be accelerating the healing process.

Last of the bandages off, today, I'd bet, she says, absent as they ride, her eyes distant, and Damien nudges the horse a little faster.

Replacement wrap for the crack in his horn, today, I think, she says, and Damien remembers the elegant curves that grace Arum's head, his throat aching.

He should be shifting to the next set of exercises for his wrist around now, she mumbles as they sit beside the fire. He'd better've remembered, she adds with a frown, and Damien pulls her even closer.

Rilla does not say that she misses him. Not in so many words. Damien follows her example, though he often finds himself glancing back the way they came, watching as the distance between the pair of them and Lord Arum grows, clutching his heart to stifle the bittersweet pang at his center.

In the small stolen bits of time when they are not riding, eating, or sleeping, Rilla likes to examine Arum's gift. She gently lifts the wrapped plant out from the saddlebag that has become its temporary home, settling it in her lap and squinting at it, observing the structure of the leaves, the colors, carefully easing her fingers into the dirt to determine the root structure.

She hasn't seen anything exactly like it before, she explains to Damien, and the intensity of her focus makes his heart thrum with fondness and familiarity. She narrows her eyes at the small stalk, the waxy purple and green leaves on the trio of branches at the top (Damien remembers Arum's glossy green scales, his violet eyes, and he aches again with longing), and she purses her lips. Native to the swamp, she decides. It must be. It doesn't… seem magical, so she isn't sure what Arum could have meant when he gave it to them, but- well, it's not like Rilla has any of her more delicate instruments here on the road with her. She can't exactly test it, or put some cells under a microscope. She just does her best to water it enough to keep the soil wrapped at its base at a consistent moisture level, and she turns it over in her mind while she's prevented by pesky lack of resources from turning it over in reality.

Neither of them mention their fondness for the plant, either. It reminds them both of Arum, of the Keep, of the swamp, and even while Rilla frowns at her lack of knowledge, that reminds her of Arum too. It makes her scowl, and smile, and she wishes he was here to smack him for leaving her with a mystery deliberately, the sly monster that he is. She wishes he was here for a number of other reasons, too, but that's beside the point.

Damien, for his part, cannot say if he has ever had so many new verses dancing in his head at once. The plant is such a beautiful little metonymy, such a hopeful tether, and though he cannot help but yearn, his yearning still feels safe, like a source.

The nights…

The nights remain difficult. The midpoint of their journey is especially so- as distant from Rilla's home as they are from Arum himself, the night particularly dark this deep in the wilderness, comforted by each others arms and little else besides.

They wake bleary, but relieved to have put another night behind them. The help each other to their feet, and they ride.

~

The representative is halfway between the border of the swamp and the Keep when Arum finally allows the denizens of his swamp to do as they wish, to descend upon this unfortunate creature and chase him back out the way he came.

Arum steps from the portal just at the edge of his territory, just as the faun stumbles the final few steps backwards over the loose remnants of the border wall Arum and the Keep have been slowly dismantling, and the monster falls halfway into mud with a yelp and his hooves in the air.

Arum lifts a hand, and his denizens abandon their pursuit, birds and amphibians and mammals retreating back into the swamp and returning to their lives, and Arum looks down at the creature. He folds his arms primly behind himself, glaring hard over his snout until the faun notices him in his scrabbling.

He yelps again, losing his grip on a vine beside him and planting his face in the mud, and Arum tilts his head.

"No, no," he says, his voice low and murmuring and magnanimous. "By all means, take your time."

The creature pants, staring up at him, and then he scrambles backwards and rolls up on his hooves, his frame hunched in obvious terror.

"… Well?" Arum drawls after the panting silence draws long. "I don't expect you would have come this far for nothing, hm?"

The faun blinks, blank, and then he shakes his head quickly and his furry fingers fumble at the satchel at his side. "I- yes I- I have been tasked to deliver a m-message and-"

Arum takes a step closer, and the creature's words fly from his tongue, the muscles in his legs bunching as if to bolt. "A message…" he repeats slowly. "How… interesting."

The faun opens his mouth again, trembling, but the words seem to catch in his mouth as Arum looms.

"You, little creature," Arum says, very slowly, "look as if you have seen a ghost. Why, may I ask, would that be the case?"

"I-" the monster bites his tongue, glances aside as if hoping for some sort of help, and then he looks to Arum again. "I was told- I was- you were supposed to be-"

"Dead?"

The faun flinches, and Arum does not let himself feel guilty, considering that this poor little fool is only adjacent to the situation. The point needs be made, and since Arum cannot safely make it to the Senate in person this will have to do. He does soften the glare in his eyes, though, coiling his tail as he waits for the creature to respond.

"I am- I am to seek the current ruler of- of-"

"I am Lord Arum, ruler of the Swamp of Titan's Blooms," Arum says, flat and mild. "Will that suffice for you, then?"

The faun stumbles back another step, his shoulders hitting a tree. "I-I-I represent the Senate a-and they have- have sent me to-"

"The last creature who spoke to me on behalf of your Senate tried to plant a blade in my spine." Arum tilts his head in the other direction, leaning down and close so he may hiss his next words eye-to-eye with this creature. "She missed. Do you believe that your aim will be more true?"

The faun swallows, visibly, his eyes wide and his hands trembling, though he seems too frightened, now, to try to move at all. "I… I am not- not an assassin, I am simply-"

"Delivering a message, as you said." Arum straightens, raising an eyebrow as he stares down his snout at the monster. "To the current ruler of the swamp." Arum grins, a conspicuous display of fangs. "I am he. What missive did the Senate intend for me, then?"

With shaking hands, the faun pulls a scroll from the satchel at his side, and holds it out.

Arum takes the parchment gently, though the faun still flinches, and he reads the letter with careful attention, his brows climbing. He snorts, eventually, folding the paper between his claws and giving the courier an amused sort of look. "The previous ruler of this swamp was killed in the effort to eradicate the human infection," he parrots with half a laugh, and then he shakes his head. "I suppose that is one way in which to spin the truth. Was killed. A delightfully overt lack of active perpetrator in that claim, hm?"

The faun opens his mouth as if to reply, but then he simply gives a sharp nod, fear still obvious in his stance, in his eye, and Arum sighs.

"Well. You may tell the Senate that if they wish to broker an alliance with the Lord of the Swamp, they may come to entreat him personally . As things stand, The Swamp of Titan's Blooms and its residents are no longer a part of the effort to eradicate humanity, nor do they acknowledge the leadership of the Senate. If the Senate wishes to plead its case they may do so here, where their deceit shall not find purchase. Otherwise," Arum growls low, "my lands may simply find other allies. We may still, regardless of whatever overtures the Senate decides to make."

"Y-you- you want me t-to- to tell them-" the faun's eyes widen to saucers, his heartbeat approaching hummingbird speeds, and Arum decides to take pity.

"Hm. Yes, well. I suppose that there is no reason to give them excuse to blame the messenger. Wait a moment, then. Keep, parchment and ink, if you would."

The Keep does as asked, and the faun's eyes flick to the vines that appear from apparent nowhere to hand him his tools. The monster's body is prey-still, leaving aside the trembling.

Arum writes out his letter rather quickly. He has been thinking this through for long enough that he does not need more than a single draft. He rolls the parchment and slides it back into the case he had pulled the Senate's own letter from, and then he holds it out.

"Perhaps," Arum says, his voice low, "you should endeavor to leave the room before they read that particular note, hm?"

After a long moment faun lifts his hands, nods, and gingerly tucks the letter back into his satchel.

~

Once he is safely back within his Keep, Arum laughs until tears prick at the corners of his eyes, laughs until his ribs hurt, and it doesn't even matter how the Senate responds. Arum cannot find the place within himself to care. He will find a way to survive, to thrive, regardless of whatever those miserable fools decide to do about him.

Arum laughs, the last lingering ghosts of his injuries twinging at him, and he feels foolish, and wild, and free.

~

The hut sits just as they left it.

The windows are dark, the herb garden has grown a little scruffy around the edges, the flowers across the trellises drift slightly in the wind, and Rilla squeezes her arms around Damien before she swings down from the saddle. She lifts Arum's plant from the saddlebag as Damien dismounts as well, and he gives her a soft, tired smile before he leads his horse off towards her tiny one-horse stable by the edge of the trees.

There's a small, childish, illogical part of Rilla that expects Arum to be there when she creaks open the door. It's stupid, obviously, which is why she doesn't let herself feel disappointed when she finds the hut exactly as empty as it should be. She sets the plant aside first, dumps the rest of her bags in a corner, and goes to light the hearth.

When Damien finishes settling his horse and comes inside with the rest of their bags, Rilla has nearly finished moving the pile of notes in the corner of the kitchen to a new spot on one of her bookshelves, and she grins a little manically at him as he sets his bags down.

"I think I've got a pot big enough to replant this thing. Help me bring it inside?"

He smiles, and they're both exhausted but this is too important to wait. For both of them.

She scoops up some turned earth from the garden to mix with the wrapped soil around the roots of Arum's plant (no more than half again, she remembers, and she's very very careful about that particular measurement), and she and Damien maneuver a large, oval shaped pot into the space Rilla has cleared, at the corner of her kitchen and out of sight of the windows.

It looks so strange and incongruous there, purple and green and wild, and the scent of fresh earth mingles with the reassuring scent of the flames in the hearth, another unfamiliar addition. Damien rests a hand on Rilla's arm, his other hand pressing over his heart, and when he sighs Rilla feels her heart stumble as well.

"Well," she says quietly. "He said it would bloom quickly, but obviously it's not going to bloom right now." She lifts a hand, gripping Damien's hand and squeezing. "C'mon. Not gonna waste time watching for the pot to boil. Let's unpack, and put something together for dinner, yeah?"

Damien squeezes her hand in return, gives the plant one last lingering look, and then turns away to help her put their home to rights again.

~

Arum feels the Keep buzz through with excitement, hears it pull the portal open at his back, and he barely manages to set his tools down rather than simply dropping them to clatter on his workbench before he spins to see-

"-miss him," Amaryllis says softly, and through the portal Arum sees her sat at their table in the warmth of the kitchen, sees Damien beside her, sees their foreheads ducked close together, Damien's arm wrapped around her shoulder, Amaryllis' hands cupping his face, their eyes gently closed. "Just- it's so quiet and-"

"I know," Damien says, and Arum's heart feels as if it fluoresces within his chest at the poet's voice, finally- finally. "I miss him as well. But- patience, love. Surely, surely we can be patient." Damien nudges their foreheads together, smiling wryly, and the arm around Amaryllis' shoulders tightens as the doctor sighs. "We will see him again. We will."

"Sooner than you think, perhaps," Arum manages, mildly smug that his voice only shakes a little, and the humans both gasp, whipping their faces towards him, all shock and wonder and- delight. His throat goes tight, then, but he still manages to speak. Barely. "Amaryllis," he murmurs, too much feeling in his voice. "Honeysuckle."

They spring to their feet, and Arum cannot help himself. He rushes forward as well.

They collide just in the threshold of the portal, Amaryllis' barreling into his chest and knocking the air from his lungs, Damien's arms flinging around him with a joyous laugh, and-

And perhaps it does not matter, that Arum feels tears at the corners of their eyes. Not if the humans' eyes are bright with tears as well.

"You," Amaryllis growls, her arms tight and fierce around him, and then she leans back enough to swipe a hand over her eyes and scowl before she starts poking at him. "Don't think you can waltz in all dramatic and get around me checking in on you- have you been applying-"

"Every single salve you left me with, like clockwork. Following the doctor's orders to the letter," Arum says, his voice an indulgent purr as Amaryllis' hands skate over his midsection, as she presses a palm over the scar on his back, examining him with critical, warm attention. He would attempt to hold up some degree of indignation about this, if he were not so undeniably, breathlessly happy to hear her complaints again at last. "As if I could possibly ignore you, as if I could not feel the threat of your ire from miles and miles distant-"

Damien breathes something like a sob, his forehead pressed to Arum's shoulder, and Arum make a small, sympathetic noise, curling two arms around him and holding him tighter.

"Oh, little songbird-"

"Missed- missed even your arguments, my lily, I-"

"I missed you as well," Arum admits in a hiss, nuzzling into Damien's hair. "Missed you both, so much more than I knew I could."

The Keep sings behind him, a melody of teasing exasperation and fondness and delight, and Amaryllis leans back to grin, lifting a hand to touch the curling vines of the portal.

"Keep," she says, and she sounds so equally fond that Arum cannot help the little stab of adoration. "So, has he been taking care of himself, then?"

The Keep warbles, affirming and warm, and Amaryllis turns her skeptical, playful gaze back towards Arum, her smile tilting in such a way that he thinks that perhaps she is content with his Keep's answer.

"So that's what the plant does, then? It lets you make a portal- nevermind the distance, weeks and weeks of travel away?"

"That is not it's function, precisely," Arum says. "It has no function, it is simply… a piece of life, from my swamp. If I merely wished to grant myself a doorway to you- the plant itself… it was not necessary. The soil would have sufficed, in truth, for a short time at least, but-"

"But?" Amaryllis asks, looking up at him with more joy on her face than Arum knows what to do with.

"But this seemed… better. More… decisive. A scattering of dirt may be swept aside. I care far more for the both of you than such a simple gesture. This-"

The plant in the wide oval pot by Amaryllis' fireplace is vibrant, glossy, a stab of floral familiarity, shocking and incongruous in this place that Arum grew to know so well.

"You shared your home with me," he says, slow and certain. "It seemed only fitting to give you a piece of mine." He inhales, and he smiles as he continues. "Its roots are taking hold here now, just as mine have, alongside your own."

Damien makes another choking noise, and then his arms tighten around Arum even further, and he presses his lips to Arum's neck. "Let us grow together," he breathes against Arum's scales in a shaking voice, and Arum knows that cadence in his voice, knows the ringing of a poem in Damien's voice. "Twined roots, fruits shared- bite by bite." Damien smiles, lifts his head, cups Arum's cheek in a hand as he continues, his voice so warm and musical that Arum can hardly focus on anything besides. "We tend to that which heals us," he murmurs, "each vine another trellis, braiding lines, lifting- towards the light-"

Arum is too stunned by the words, hit too closely by them, and Amaryllis recovers more quickly, reaching up to brush the tears away from Damien's cheeks, pressing a kiss there as if to replace them.

"I think that's my favorite of the new ones," she whispers. "Thank you."

"Honeysuckle," Arum manages, after another moment, and then he leans down to echo Amaryllis' kiss on the poet's other cheek. "How you craft such beauty… it is quite beyond me."

"With such inspiration before me," Damien says in a quavering voice, "the words practically weave themselves."

"Will that stay?" Amaryllis asks suddenly, gesturing towards the portal.

"I could dismiss it, summon it back when it is needed," he says.

"Cool," she says, and Arum barks a shocked laugh as she tugs at his hands, pulling himself and Damien back towards the table, maneuvering them to sit and folding herself against his side with a hand on his chest, her fingers tapping in a rhythm that it takes him a few moments to realize-

She's tapping along to the beat of his heart. Her fingers drum a little faster, after that.

Arum swallows roughly, and then he nudges the Keep with his mind, and as it closes the portal, leaving the little plant behind in the corner (she placed it precisely where he suggested- he will need to prod her later, discover where she fit that ream of notes and theories instead), Arum is grateful to still feel just the barest hint of the Keep's presence at the edges of his mind. The magic will settle here, yes, just as he did. If they want it to.

He exhales slowly, holding the both of them in silence for a long moment.

"I…" he murmurs eventually, uncertain. "I admit that I… worried, after you left, that perhaps this would be… a step too far. Too presumptuous, to grant myself a door directly into your home, but-"

"No-" Amaryllis shakes her head, lifting away enough to meet his eye. "Arum this is incredible- can you just summon a portal anywhere?"

"Not anywhere," he corrects, mild. "Only within the Swamp of Titan's Blooms. Which…"

Amaryllis looks to the plant, more vivid purple now than it was when he gave it to her.

"You… you literally gave us a piece of… you literally gave us a bloom from your swamp."

"Oh Arum," Damien keens, pressing another kiss to his throat. "Oh-"

"I… yes. It seemed the only thing to do," he says, ducking his head, flustered with his frill fluttering. "I… I knew…" he stops, furrows his brow, tries again. "The Keep is my home, my family. And I… I know, now, that I… I've grown to think of this place… I want this place to be my home as well. I want to be close by your sides. I want- you. I want to be a part of your lives."

"Good," Amaryllis says, but even in her nonchalance her voice is- trembling. Her hand presses hard over his heart, and the she presses her mouth to his in a lingering kiss. "Saints- Arum, we want you too."

"Want you always," Damien adds, tearful. "Oh, to be a home for you- to tend our garden together- oh Arum, oh lily we will hold you if you want us- we will keep you safe, warm-"

Damien interrupts himself, clearly shocking himself with a yawn, and Arum and Amaryllis both laugh at the look of mortification on his face.

"You are…" Arum presses his snout against Damien's temple when he can't find the words to voice what, precisely, Damien is. "Ridiculous," he settles on. "And clearly exhausted. The plant bloomed much more quickly than I was expecting, I think," he mutters, glaring in its direction without any heat. "I can still smell the road on the both of you. Have you gotten any rest whatsoever since you've been home?"

Amaryllis rolls her eyes while Damien purses his lips in obvious guilt, and Arum stifles another laugh.

"Well. It seems it is my turn to act responsibly for once. To bed with you. You certainly won't be rid of me so easily that you shall miss out on a single sleepless night of my presence. To bed," he repeats, "and I shall find mine as well."

Damien blinks, surprised again, and he and Amaryllis meet each other's eyes for a moment, something passing between them.

"What?" Arum grumbles. "What is it? I do not intend to let you wear yourselves out further for my sake. Certainly you would not allow the opposite, were the tables turned."

"You- you want to sleep in the exam room again?" Amaryllis asks, her tone careful, and Arum-

Arum did not realize that there was another option open to him. Would she like for him to- return to the Keep?

He presses his expression flat, unbothered, and then he says, "Where… else?"

Damien and Amaryllis lock eyes again, and this time he can read a note of fondness before Amaryllis turns her attention back to him.

"Well…" Amaryillis trails off. "If you want to sleep in there, you can. I haven't touched it since we got home, so it's still set up the same as when you left it, but-"

"But?"

Amaryllis ducks her head, then looks up at him through the fall of her hair, her smile soft and easy. "You… aren't my patient, Arum," she says, and he blinks. "Not anymore. If you want that to still be your bed here- I understand. You spent ages there, I get it if that's where you're comfortable. But… we love you. We love you, and there's room in our bed for you, too. If you want it."

"If…" Arum trails off, his mind still catching on the belated realization that he- he may exist here, uninjured. A guest, not a patient, as he once imagined. "You… want me to…"

"We love you, Arum," Damien repeats, his tone unspeakably tender. "We want you. Every inch, every moment we may share is a treasure, a gift."

"Did it bother you to have us share your bed?" Amaryllis asks, and Arum wrinkles his snout.

"Ridiculous-"

"Exactly. So…" she bites her lip, and then she leans up, and kisses Arum on the cheek, her lips soft and warm against his scales. "Come to bed with us?"

That feeling again, as if his heart is glowing and warm, as if the light should be pouring out in shafts between his ribs. He presses his mouth against her own, an invitation, a request, and when she hums another kiss against his scales the light within him pulses hot.

"Please," he whispers, and with these two creatures in his arms, with the Keep a gentle presence at the edge of his mind, Arum knows that this is where he belongs.

The monster is barely conscious before he starts trying to pull the both of them closer.

Rilla can hardly blame him. If she wasn't worried about waking him too early, she would have tugged him into her arms ages ago. He's too tired to do much more than give a mumbled breath, though, his greedy limbs stretching out to tug weakly at Rilla and Damien's sides. Damien hums himself awake at Arum's touch, and he smiles so, so wide before his eyes blink muzzily open, and then he looks down at the monster in his arms, and then up at Rilla with a watery smile. She grins right back, and then she obliges Arum's sleep-slack, greedy hands, and she folds herself against his chest, angling her chin up so she can press a kiss to his neck, and Damien embraces him from the other side, strong arms looped around Arum's chest, fingers tracing the ridges of his scales.

Arum murmurs something incomprehensible through his teeth, his eyelids fluttering, and as Rilla kisses him again he hisses a contented sigh, his violet eyes slitting open to meet her gaze in the gentle light of morning.

Rilla is so shockingly in love that her heartbeat stumbles, and Arum and Damien are safe within her arms.

(He’s so pleased, radiating such obvious contentment, and he is so entirely stunned to wake with them holding him. His cheek rests on her hand and he presses his face into it as he rouses, his scales already warm from their radiant heat and his breathing going sharper through his smile, and she feels a fierce sort of satisfaction at that, at the idea of soothing him awake like this again, and again, and again)

He growls lightly, nipping at her fingers and tugging the both of them closer against his chest, rumbling with a deep, inhuman purr.

She almost can't believe there was a time when she thought of him only as a monster.

In their arms, in their bed, in their home. He is their monster. Safe, and healed, and loved.

~

End notes: Thank you. I love you. Thank you. For further feelings, my playlist for this fic lives here.

also? this note has been sitting at the end of this document since it was only three lines of goofy plot ideas.

[……… profit????]

[toughfaun]

Hi, I don't really post what I'm writing here. I've never really had the confidence and I am in a constant battle with my agoraphobia.

I only showed this story that I'm working on to one person. He never got the chance to tell me what he thought about it.

I don't like the silence so I was hoping that in posting this here, even if no one sees it, even if no one cares, that it will bring some type of peace.

Word Count: 1.5k

Title: Lucy Lovingstein

Status: Work in Progress

View on Google Docs

She rushed into the room bringing a gust of wind with her, her shoulders tense, her hair tousled as if fingers were ran through it repeatedly with ambition, and her face a scowl held hostage, cheeks puffed out as if her mouth was full though I knew it wasn’t. “I left him, Patty.” She threw her body down onto the chase in front of me, the place I would have normally sat while I was reading, but decided not to today. “I left him.”

Him, being the man she left us for, left me for. His name was. . .well, is that important? No, it is not. It was an ugly name anyway. 

She fell in love suddenly and left just as so. Sudden was her nature, after all, slow was too much for her. It always had been and always would be, which is why she fell out of love with me far quicker than I could have or wanted to. She left for a dazzling city with him. The city being New York, where life was so fast that you had to run even in your sleep. She’d sent a postcard, barely any handwritten words. I could count them on one, maybe one and a half hands. ‘Life is great.’ She started, ‘Miss you much.' and there at the bottom she signed her first name as I knew it, ‘Lucy’ but with a new last name, his last name ‘Lovingstein’ it was likely made up by one of his ancestors but it was real for him. As stupid as it were, was, is.

He took her to places that she had never seen, lived life faster than a winning racehorse. While I sat here at home, working as I usually did and then coming home to an empty home as I usually did and made dinner and read all alone as I usually did. Nothing ever changed for me, not even that, not even the pain in my chest when I got the picture she sent me, the return address was in Vegas. The Vegas. And when I opened it, sure enough, there was a photo of them there, lips locked, hands in places nearing the obscene but the ring was still visible, gleaming even in the photo. Even now where we sit, my heart beats to her rhythm as if she and I were lying side by side again.

I’d made my peace with our lost love many years ago now, she was gone all of twelve, it took me ten and my late cat, Valentine, to feel less lonely. But now she walks in out of the blue, the first I have ever laid eyes on her in years and she barges in undeterred as if she’d left only yesterday, without a single call or even a letter or hell, another postcard. Her confidence has never shocked me more.

“Lucy,” I started placing a bookmark between the pages. “There are so many problems that you have risen that I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you really still talk like that?” Her eyes were blue still, duller now than in my memory. Perhaps they were the same hue and my memory just applies a filter of sorts, one that makes things brighter and heightens the emotions.

Should I allow her to distract me? “Talk like what, Lucy?” I guess so.

She looked away as she removed her scarf, “As if your life is a book. As if everyone’s life is from pages of text instead of a world of color.”

I placed my book down on the table next to my mug of tea, still steaming but likely not for long. “Why do you talk as if you know me still? As if this is not the first time we have seen each other in twelve years?”

“I wrote you, sent postcards, pictures.” She laid her scarf down on the arm rest and looked back at me, I once again noticed her eyes. Such dull, sad eyes. “You never sent anything back. That is not my fault.”

"Ah yes, because you didn't constantly move and travel. Because I always knew where you were. It's certainly all fault of mine." She would forever be infuriating. I wonder, even now, how I ever loved her.

She waved her hand in the air, "It's no longer important, really. But I must tell you everything now, about him, about why I'm here, about all of it." Her voice cracked toward the end, perhaps it was emotion, or perhaps she needed a glass of water - either way I had little patience for it.

Most of me wanted to yell at her. Tell her how wrong she was to barge into my home, though it was probably on me for that. I'd never moved the spare key in twelve years, she must have guessed so, perhaps it was clear to her too that nothing had changed for me. Though that was no excuse for her to not even express the slightest glimpse of courtesy. Not a hello, or a how are you. But that was Lucy, she often skipped over greetings but not often did she skip over a goodbye. Maybe she liked muddied beginnings and clear endings. 

She wanted you to know when she was done with you. 

Over the years of both knowing and knowing of Lucy, I have received many a clear ending and muddied beginning. From friends to lovers suddenly when she kissed me. From lovers to nothing when she left me. From nothing to. . .distanced acquaintance when she sent the first post card and many start and stops whenever she felt like.

Though remembering it now, I'm unsure if our ending was ever truly clear. Perhaps our relationship was more of the metamorphosis type, not that I'd ever decided that or cared that it was. She left me.

I knew it was probably my weak willpower that allowed the thoughts of simply conceding and allowing her room to talk to enter my mind. Though perhaps, I was on to something, that if I allow her to speak her mind that maybe, just maybe I will finally be done with her. That the dull ache I feel now will finally subside and I can move on. Heaven knows I've already given my wounds much time. "Fine." I said finally, after a long stare down with her. The air in the room had gathered intensity, but not the uncomfortable kind, or the heated kind. It was the air of an anxiousness that had urgency, excitement, and a tad bit of familiarity. "Go ahead and tell me everything." As I gave her my full attention, I realized that even I, after all these years, missed her and the sound of her voice. I suppose that too had not changed. 

"There are so many stories to tell, there are so many paths and timelines that overarch into what he and I had and what it became. But I'll spare you those different tidbits-"

"How kind." I added. 

"Please save it until the end, Patty. I really would like to just say what I have to say and be done with it."

I nodded and continued my silence, a feat I had mastered over the years. Perfect silence.

"As you know, we married in Vegas eleven years ago now. And it was a happy marriage for awhile, for a long time." Her voice became somewhat solemn for a moment before it picked up. "But I was having the time of my life, seeing new things every day. Meeting new people every second. It was hectic and I wish I could describe how fast my heart was racing throughout all of it. The joy I felt, the amazement, the fulfillment. It was exhilarating." 

She had a smile on her lips and her eyes were faraway, likely reminiscing. Images from her mind's memory banks pulled to the forefront, she probably didn't even see me sitting there anymore. A memory was projected over me, maybe it was of the busy crowds of Vegas, the ancient beauty of Greece or Rome, perhaps even the Amazon jungle. Whatever it was she was seeing, it brought joy to her lips and a slight spark to her eyes. 

In a blink it changed.

"Eventually things changed between us. His love didn't feel the same anymore, he only wanted me to see the world through his rose colored glass. I wanted to see so much, but he wouldn't allow it. So I began to sneak off. I saw so much, the poverty, the history, the real people these places created. And I learned so much from them, for years I would just take a week and say I was going shopping or something and just disappeared learning all I could then coming back with random items to disguise my whereabouts." She chuckled. "It was when he finally caught me, that I began to see that I was simply a woman behind a lens for him. That everything about me, in his mind was rugged at first and so he was going to sand me down over the years. Transform me into his version of Lucy Lovingstein, the real me didn't matter to him, it never did." 

She stood then, walking towards the window slowly. Passing my tea that was definitely no longer steaming, and looking forlornly at the street through the glass as she pressed her body against the wall.

[persephonesfill]

1, 5, 9, 10, and 14? 🧿

Thank you anon! 💖

1. What made you start writing fanfic?

I mentioned it in an earlier ask, but my curiosity truly got the better of me. I’d always wonder what would happen next in or a story or how much would change if Character A made a different decision during a pivotal moment in the plot, etc.

5. You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it? 

The gratuitous smut scenes and long descriptive sentences talking about how beautiful steve’s eyes are.

9. What do your fic bookmarks say about you? 

I have an unhealthy obsession with mutual pining and miscommunication.

10. What’s a theme that keeps coming up in your writing? 

I guess as of right now, I’ve been focusing a lot on love and the different ways you can love someone, both platonically and romantically.

14. You’re applying for the fanfic writer of the year award. What five fanfics do you put in your portfolio? 

Oh god you’ve put me on the spot. I guess if I had to pick from my fics, the absolute best are don’t blink, on your knees, color me blue, i’ll never make it alone, and choke on me. I feel like they all have something about them that sticks with you long after you’ve read them.

Send me fanfic asks!

[igottoomuchwriting]

We’re A Million Worlds Apart

Series: Part One/Previous Part/Next Part

Zoe shut the front door behind her, dropping her backpack in relief. Junior year was giving her a run for her money. Upperclassmen had always warned her that junior year of high school was the hardest year of high school, especially Connor on the rare occasions he decided to share information about his life, but she never believed them. She just thought Connor was lying or just not trying hard enough.

Now that she was actually a Junior, she realizes that she should’ve listened. She is trying to get as many credits as she can, she’s constantly preparing for standardized tests, and on top of that her parents are already making her look at colleges that she wants to apply to. The added stress of trying to convince them that a music school would be best for her is not helping either, just adding useless anxiety to her everyday life. 

With the week over, she just wanted to lay in bed all weekend and watch her shows. She never really gets a chance to relax over the weekend and she wants to use the most of the time that she can.

“Mom?” she yelled into the house. When she received no answer, she tried again. “Dad?” Again, no answer.

Zoe rolled her eyes. Of course they weren’t home. At this point, it’s not even the fact that they aren’t home that’s the issue, it’s just Zoe would like to know that she would have this giant house to herself before they got home. Phones were invented for a reason.

She made her way up her stairs, instrument in hand, already craving the snacks that she kept hidden in her room. No matter what diet her Mom decided that they should go on, there is no way that they can take her away from her mint Oreos. She needs her comfort food no matter what.

As Zoe got closer to the top of the stairs, she heard a voice laughing. She paused at the stop, staring at the hall in confusion. She swore that she was the only one home, but the voice suggests otherwise.

She quietly makes her way down the hall towards the sound. She sees light coming from Connor’s door and that’s when it clicks. Connor must be high and watching some dumb videos on YouTube.

“Wouldn’t be the first time..” Zoe mumbles. She walks past the door, ready to get on with her evening, when she hears Connor laugh again.

“Alright you dumbass, I get it!” he laughs. Zoe stares at the door, deeply confused. There was no way that her brother was dumb enough to try and sneak someone into the house.

Then again, who would he have to sneak in? As far as Zoe knows, the only friend that he has would be Evan, but Evan doesn’t seem like the kind of kid that would sneak into a friend’s house to get high.

“I can’t believe you are comparing me to a Koala, Evan. That’s such a dick move.” Koalas? “I don’t care if you think that I would adapt out of spite and I don’t give a shit if you have enough evidence. I don’t wanna hear that you compare me to a fucking koala.”

What...would even prompt that kind of conversation? Why is Evan comparing her brother to a koala? Koalas are soft and sweet and slow and her brother is...not.

There was a pause on the other line, almost for a full minute, and Zoe was about to leave her brother to his weird conversaton when she heard him go ‘hm?’. She leaned in closer when she heard her brother let out a heavy sigh.

“You want me to do what?”

That is a great question. What does Evan want him to do?

“She hates me Evan. There is no amount of talking that is ever going to fix that or any aspect of our relationship.” 

For once, Zoe also agrees with Connor. Evan most likely told Connor about the conversation that they had in the hallway. While Zoe hasn’t talked to Evan a lot, she gets the feeling that he would be the kind of person that would want everything to work out between everyone. As sad as it is, that will never happen between Connor and Zoe. Zoe doesn’t think that she can even try to become closer to someone that has threatened to kill her. 

“Okay. Let’s say that for some fucking reason Zoe and I decide to talk about our feelings like some normal ass siblings, what would I even say to her?”

There’s nothing that he could say that would make Zoe listen. They would end up fighting two minutes into the conversation and it would just worsen their relationship. Any kind of communication between the two just seemed pointless.

“What do I want to say to her?” Connor continued. There was a long pause. She guesses that he was trying to think of something.

Probably not anything nice, that fucking druggie Zoe thought.

“I’d want to tell her that I still see her. Even if I’m high and angry all the fucking time, I still notice things she does.”

Wait...what?

“I...She does this thing when she gets antsy, and I remember her doing stuff like it while growing up. She’ll start drawing on her jeans when she gets bored. Like, you know how she cuffs her jeans?” A pause. “Yeah, the bottom of her jeans. If you look closely you can see tiny ass stars just covering her jeans. Once I saw her draw a moon, and I wanna say Saturn or some shit?”

He...notices that? Zoe glanced down at her jeans and sure enough, it was the jeans that she was doodled on the most. Saturn was at the very bottom of the cuff and she had gone up from there so to her it looked rightside up but to someone else it was upside down.

“God, and you know those teen magazines? Those stupid ass ones that have dumb news about celebrtiies no one cares about? Well, my mom still has subscriptions to them for Zoe since she’s a teen. Zoe now pretends that she doesn’t read them, that she is more educated, but I have seen her taking the quizzes in there.”

He what.

Connor let out a laugh. “Really! I’m not fucking kidding! She’s such a fucking nerd about it too! I’ve watched her bookmark quizzes that she wants to take on their websites, and there are times that I walk by her room when the door is open and I see those shitty magazines with bookmarks in them!”

Zoe’s face was burning red with embarrassment. She tried hiding those quizzes for a reason! She didn’t want anyone thinking that she actually believed what they say.

Which she doesn’t. She just...really wants to see what the quizzes say. Which is normal! She’s a Junior in high school, where she is constantly stressed about standardized tests as well as the impending doom of graduating, choosing a college, and becoming an adult.

“She’s just...she’s perfect, Evan. Compared to me? She’s everyone’s ideal child. She’s just…. I don’t know how to say it without being weird.” There was a moment of silence before Connor let out another heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. It’s just… She’s gorgeous. And not in a weird way. She just… she has this way of drawing people in and welcoming them in, and I think it’s all in her smile.”

“No one talks to me—which I’m not too upset about, don’t get me wrong—but they don’t talk to me because I look angry all the time. Even when Zoe is upset, she tries to give people a bright smile so that they aren’t afraid of her. It’s all in her smile and it’s just… amazing how beautiful it is. How gorgeous and amazing she is.”

Zoe was going to cry. Here she thought that Connor hated her—and maybe he still does, who knows at this point—but here he is, saying all of these lovely things when Zoe has said nothing but mean things about her brother. Hell, she said all these mean things to her brother’s friend, who is probably his only friend.

Should she let what she is hearing change her opinion on him? He still did get angry a lot, break stuff in the house, yell, get high, and was in and out of the hospital. Zoe truly did think that he was a danger to himself, and sometimes her. He has threatened her life before.

...Right? She wasn’t imagining that?

Oh god what if she was imagining that. That pushed the tears over the edge. She just imagines her brother threatening to kill her from time to time while he is here actually trying to learn things about his sister by watching because she would never actually let him hold a normal conversation with her. 

She doesn’t know what to think anymore.

“That’s the thing, Evan. I don’t fucking know how to tell her these things. It’s like there is a giant canyon in between the two of us and there is no way around it or over it. Evening attempting to cross the rift would end in my death.”

“Affection isn’t one of my strong suits, so I can’t just… look her in the eyes and say ‘I love you’. I do, I really do, I just...can’t say it.”

That was the last straw. Tears started streaming down Zoe’s face at an alarming rate as she tried to hold back her sobs.

She doesn’t know what to feel. Part of her is angry because Connor has the audacity to talk about this behind her back, not even try to talk to her and let her know what he feels and that he doesn’t hate her. That same part is also angry at herself for making her brother feel that he can’t come talk to her, that they can’t tell each other what they feel like normal people.

But she knows why he can’t, and that’s why she is crying. He is right—the rift between them is too wide to cross. If Connor did try to approach her, she would immediately think something is up. They would get in a fight before Connor could even get anything positive out of his mouth because Zoe wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t even be able to say before Zoe got up and walked away because that is what she is used to.

They were not raised like normal siblings, and they are not normal. They have a lot of fights and problems that at this point, fixing it would be useless. Her and Connor just...can’t get along. 

But part of her wonders if they would have been able to fix this. If she and Connor had put aside their issues, or if they listened to each other for even five minutes, would things be different?

Zoe slid down the wall, hand held over her mouth as she cried. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t let Connor know that she heard this conversation with his friend, but she couldn’t go about her life as if she didn’t hear. Would Connor be suspicious if she started being kinder to him? Would he eventually figure it out? Would he get mad? 

Her first thought is of course he would get mad and that doesn’t help the tears stop flowing. Her mind is flooded with nothing but guilt, anger, sadness, and confusion and she doesn’t know what she should do. 

She hears movement next to her. It only takes a split second to realize that Connor is walking towards the door.

The door opens and Zoe snaps her head up, making direct eye contact with her.

Connor froze, staring down at his sister—who probably looks like a mess with mascara running down her face—shocked. He quickly masks whatever he is feeling with a defensive glare.

“...I’ll call you back later, Evan.”

[syahaz]

[question] why do you like giorno’s mom even though she’s neglectful and a horrible parent?

G’day mate, thanks for your question.

I personally not sure how to explain this well but I really hope it makes sense. At least a little bit.

Disclaimer: Before starting anything I want to say that I, by no means condone any child negligence, assault, abuse, etc. in real life that obviously involving real-life children. If you ever encounter any suspicious parents that might harm their children, please quickly contact your local child protection service if possible.

Please take my SUPER LONG answer here with a pinch of salt (you might wanna bookmark it for later reading just saying). You also feel free to disagree and so do I, alright? Let’s keep everything in peace here ehe hee. :)

Sorry for the digression, now let’s start focusing on the question.

*Cracking my fingers.* 

Okay so umm let’s start with when my first time seeing her the anime (because I’m not so much of a reader :/)

My first thought on her is “Gosh, she’s so pretty! I wanna draw her!” like I attracted to her aesthetically and it’s very surface-level kind of attraction and I find a little weird thinking about it consciously aha haa.

The more I look at her, the more my mind able to capture her distinctive physical appearance features or what I sometimes call “shape” (this make more sense if you look at my chibi Shiobana art lol yea.)

After procrastinating to draw fan art of her for quite some time oops haha, I suddenly have this thought “What if Giorno actually having great childhood? What if Shiobana is a good mom to Giorno? How am I gonna draw Giorno as a happy child? What kind of scenario of an amazing childhood that I want to apply for both Shiobana as a great mother and Giorno as a happy child. ” and this happens the very same time my thoughts went to “What if Dio and Shiobana is a couple and be great parents to Giorno oho hoo.” but that’s for another day.

The more I draw Shiobana with Giorno or Dio or both or just herself, I start building up entire new AUs (yes, so many AUs but I don’t think I can develop all of them oops, too much for my not-so-much writer brain). So for this ask, I’m gonna pick the AU that correlates with canon storyline the most.

———————————————————————————————————-

In this particular AU, it is set at the post-Vento Aureo time.

Mr Giovanna is one of the biggest drug dealers after Diavolo. I made this overthinking theory because in the anime he was shown calculating some money.

Like… what exactly he’s counting? I know it’s money but where in the world the money comes from and what kind of business or work he’s involved in that made him gets such amount of money?  (If you’re from Italy or anyone reading this is, please tell me if that quantity of money is average or suspiciously rich level, thanks.)

The other reasoning is I’m very curious that some bad fathers in JoJo usually associated with some sort of obsession to some extent. So if it’s not drug addiction and drug dealing, I don’t know what else it is. Plus, what’s up with the smirk tho? So suspiciousssss…  (Again, this is a theory, not a fact. So… *shrugs* but it makes sense to me anyway aha haa.)

Long story medium, Shiobana becomes more guilty of her being negligent towards Giorno for so many years as time goes. She got abused by Mr Giovanna after she found out that he’s dealing drugs and declines his offer to be his crime accessory. She also starting to work for herself, taking odd jobs maybe to set herself free one day which she did in the end.

She tries to find Giorno back by, of course, starting with contacting his boarding school administrator. As we know that Giorno knows technically skips or quits school but for Shiobana he’s just disappeared from thin air. 

Fast forward, one day one the remaining Passione member excluding Giorno (not sure who to pick, maybe Trish?) found a flyer that Shiobana made in search of Giorno. (The police declined to take his disappearance case as he was considered as a runaway). They take the flyer and show it to Giorno.

Giorno, of course, was so shocked that his mom now suddenly try to find him back. It takes a lot for him to command the member to contact her.

Fast forward again, Shiobana and Giorno meet after years passing by. After numerous consideration, Giorno forgives his mom which takes him a ton of time for thinking in loops.

Legally, she could be jailed but with her helping him to catch and dominate over Mr Giovanna fortune (he doesn’t really need to but he likely to be mad at him as Mr Giovanna’s clients potentially be children). Giorno sort of doesn’t press charge on her but demanding her to work with him under specialized tasks. (I don’t plan what is it yet as I’m writing this but probably as some sort of spy with normal presence).

TLDR: This AU is Shiobana’s “Redemption Arc” or at least what I think it is hmm because there’s little to no canon story to work with plus her role as a real negative character really make it tough for me to made continuing situation for her. That’s why I tend to make numbers of AU like good mum au, one mom au, and whole other AU with less canon connection.

*Cracking my fingers again. This is truly wearing me out a little but I’m fine no worry.*

———————————————————————————————————-

Now to the highlight point of the question.

Another reason for me to like Shiobana is I can learn how a fictional character stirring humans’ mind just by their sheer existence.

I think the huge reason many people have a fixed view on her is that she is indeed a realistic character. By that, I mean people like her exist. People like her is unfortunately common in our society. She was too real to the point that people less likely to think otherwise about her.

Her character has very low exposure throughout the whole part (about two panels in manga and a couple seconds to a minute in anime). She extremely lacks her own story like who she is, where is she from, where and why in the world she met Dio in the first place, why she becomes like this and that, and many more.

The similar (but opposite) kind of energy goes to Jonathan mainly because he has a lot of character development going on in both manga and anime. The fandom itself truly shows that I’m telling the truth so yeah and I mean it in a neutral way as favouritism on specific characters are subjective. Look at how I look Mr Giovanna, he could be repenting man in the future but I choose not to do so lol.

Anyway, I headcanon her to be the kind of young adult who is not ready for the responsibilities as a parent and a partner or no commitment for short. Yes, I don’t deny that she’s indeed not a good mom at some point.

———————————————————————————————————-

So for the conclusion, I could say that Shiobana is like an experimental character for my art progress including storytelling which is extremely entertaining for me as I have a lot of ideas I can put on her no matter how easy or hard the ideas work for her as a character.

I hope you like this answer, anon. Sorry that I take so many time as I need to give as much as possible of my view on Shiobana, just like what you’re asking and I hope it’s worth the wait. ;u;”

[jj-lynn21]

Roman & his Princess: blood wolf moon eclipse

Warnings: angst, hunger, female masturbation, manipulation, suicide.

Notes: In this AU there was never a child for Olivia to use to push Roman to suicide so she used Shelly instead knowing he would rather kill himself than hurting his sister. 

Your hunger has been building more and more each day. Roman does his best to preoccupy you with other things, well mostly sex, but he really doesn’t know what to do. Half the time you are even looking at the purple vein throbbing in his neck or even his inner thigh as he tries to fuck the hunger out of you.

You’ve been fighting too. He has to lock the refrigerator when he is at work, so you don’t just drink every drop in the blood bags he has been able to supply you both. 

On the evening of the blood wolf moon eclipse you try to cling to him before he goes out the door.

“Please Roman, just one more before you leave. I’m starving. Can we go to the club when you get home? I can get my fill there. And it is so much better from a person.” You plead your case knowing far too well it doesn’t faze him.

“No!” He glared at you to get his point across you had to let go of him. “Listen, I’m on Dr. Pryce’s ass every day to come up with something so you don’t have to…” He paused. “I don’t want you to be like this or go through anything else. Go read the books I bought you, take a long bath, hell masturbate without me to take your mind of it. And don’t leave the fucking house. The last thing we need is bodies piling up because you don’t have control.”

You slink down to the ground just staring at him as he leaves for the White Tower. You try desperately to do things he suggested. You grab a book mindlessly from the shelf. Starting to read from where the bookmark says you left off, ““So bloody massacre, so nasty, so brutal he just starts to eat alive people flesh.” FUCK…” You throw the book across the room.

“ok, ok…” You tell yourself. Taking a few deep cleansing breathes. You go to the bedroom to get farther away from the refrigerator. You could just rip the hinges off it right now. The only thing keeping you from doing so is Roman might even kill you for that one. Destroying the only proper containment for nutrition in the house.  Riffling through the nightstands you search franticly.

“Where is he?” You said to yourself.

You hadn’t needed to use the Big Guy in months when Roman had a business trip out of town for a week. It was Roman’s idea really. You sounded and looked stressed on video chat, so Roman told you to take the vibrator out. He watched you work yourself applying the toy to your clit, his hands stroking his cock saying how much he was missing your hands on him and his on every part of you.

His detailed memory of his lips pressed against yours and moving down your body to find his tongues favorite sweet sweet spot, tasting your juices…the way his breath hitched was divine as he tried to help stimulate you mentally as your Big Guy stimulated you physically. And you did feel better after you came. You tried to think of that moment when you put the toy to your clit. You moved the setting higher as you thought of Roman telling you how much he wanted to fulfill your every need.

But try as you might whether it was from being to tense or to starved it didn’t help. You weren’t sure even Roman himself would have made you come at this point. You laid there frustrated for a few moments only thinking of ways to pick the lock on the refrigerator to just get one bag of blood. One would do you until Roman got home…well maybe two. That would certainly sustain you. You salivated at the thought.

Then the doorbell rang. You shot up to a sitting position as it rung again. You were excited that maybe Roman sent you a snack for lunch. He told you stories of the leaches. At the time you thought it sounded disgusting. Nothing you would ever think of doing. But now, now you were hoping it was someone just covered just to get this hunger not to be so intense.

You practically flew down the stairs to the door. When you looked through the peephole you saw it. A large sized bag of blood. You licked your lips before looking to who was holding it. It was Roman’s Mother Olivia Godfrey. Roman had told you to never let her in the door, especially when he wasn’t home. But she had the thing you wanted, needed most right now so you didn’t even remember the warnings from Roman.

“Open the door young lady,” Olivia attempted a smile. “I come barring a gift from Dr. Pryce. He told me what you were going through. God forbid my son actually care enough for you to let me help. And he can’t deal with what needs to be done to help you.”

You open the door keeping your eye on the prize, what she is holding. She grins as she walks in Roman’s home easily. You follow her over to sit on the couch.

She looks at the lock on the refrigerator. “Well, he has taking a few extra precautions. But don’t worry my dear, he might not really love you, and what’s the point of living if he doesn’t, but I brought you just what you need.”

Your eyes widen as she hands you the bag. “He does love me.” You grab the bag and bite right into the plastic to drink”

“If you say so,” Olivia smirks. “I bet he even calls you his Princess like he is some fucking Prince who can save you. But fairy tales don’t exist. Do you know he almost killed his own sister while he was in the throes of his hunger? She would have died for a second time really but that’s another story.”  

You drink feverishly.

“Do slow down dear,” Olivia commanded. You look at her, mouth still sucking on what is left in the bag. “Now this is important. I wouldn’t want you to kill my son.”

You stop drinking, the bag nearly empty, your lip painted red with blood. “I would never hurt Roman.”

“You so that now,” She sighs. “But tell me the truth. You have thought about just ripping into his juggler to fulfill your own needs, haven’t you? The way it pulsates, teasing you when your hungriest.”

“I…” You don’t know want to answer. You finish off the bag until you are sucking in nothing but air.

“I’m going to powder my nose. You finish your snack.” She goes upstairs and returns shortly. “It’s ok darling,” She grabs the bag from you. “This is our little secret.” She stuffs the evidence in her purse. “When he arrives home later, and you see that vein in his neck beckoning you to feed just remember there is an option, so you don’t kill your love. If you truly do love him, you might choose to keep him safe over yourself.” She gets up and heads to the door. “You know what has to be done if you truly love him, so you don’t kill him in a ravenous rage.”

She leaves. Your heart pounds. You try to figure out her cryptic message. You would never want to Kill the man you love so dearly. You would do anything not to hurt him in anyway. What was she really saying? What happened that Roman almost harmed his sister? He would never harm Shelley. She had to be lying about that. What did he do that made him not as ravenous as you are now? You just sucked down two pints of blood and it barely touched the hunger. Fuck, when he walks in the door you will just be such a mess all you will see is that vein throbbing, just waiting for you to attack. What if he can’t hold you off? What if you do kill him?

You are a wreck as you run up to the bathroom to draw a hot bath. You turn on the water. After you strip down you put both hands on the countertop looking in the mirror. That’s when the glint of the blade catches your eye. You hear Olivia in your head, “You know what has to be done if you truly love him.”

Roman is pulling in the driveway as Olivia is walking to her car. He rolls the window down, “What the fuck are you doing at my home. I told you, you aren’t welcome here. She won’t let you in either.”

“She won’t?” Olivia smirks.

Roman parks and gets out. He gets in her face, “What did you do?”

She strokes the side of his face. “I did what you couldn’t dear boy.” She slaps his face, “You better wake up from playing businessman and deal with your girl.” He is stunned a moment as she gets in her car and drives away.

When he comes to mentally, he rushes in the house. He hears the water still running upstairs. By the time he gets there you are under the red tinted water. Tears and anger start to build as he knelt grabbing your lifeless body out of the water at the same time he turns off the faucet.

“No, no no,” Roman pleaded as he checked your pulse to feel nothing. Tears roll down his face. “Fuck, I’m going to kill her if you don’t wake.” He runs his thumb over your lips. “Wake up baby. Fuck, I love you, wake up.”

You gasp and cough up some water that was in your lungs. Roman pulls you to his chest. “Fuck, I thought I lost you. Don’t you ever scare me like this again. I love you so much.”

Roman picks you up to carry you to the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed and goes to get you a night shirt to put on. “Roman, I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Put your arms up.” He slid the shirt over your head. It smelled like him since it was one of his old t-shirts that worked very well as a nightshirt for you. “You would never hurt me, Princess. Did Olivia tell you to do this so you wouldn’t hurt me?”

“Not really,” You leaned against him as he sat putting his arms around you. “I was thinking it Roman. I dreamed of just ripping your throat out when I was so starved. I don’t know if you ever felt as starved as I did. I’m sorry.” You bury your head in his chest crying.

He rocks you softly. “I did, Princess. I know how bad it can be. But your fine now.”

He lays you down keeping a tight grip on you as you relax and drift off to sleep in his arms.

[sqsupernova]

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[flourchildwrites]

Witch, Please!  Fictober 2019  (30/30)

A multi-fandom Fictober prompt compilation.  Your wish is my command, but be careful what you ask for.  You just might get it.

Prompt:  “All Hallows Eve” from Writetober 2019 Prompt List

Fandom:  Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Relationship/Pairing:  Todoroki Shouto/Yaoyorozu Momo

Genre:  Trick or Treating

Rating:  Teen And Up Audiences

Word Count:  804 words

Read on AO3

“Trick or Treat!”

Halloween doesn’t make sense to Shouto; however, it isn’t the idea of pretending to be someone else that he can’t comprehend.  Though he isn’t as exuberant as Midoria, Shouto idolized All Might. In fact, he still does. It’s natural for kids to have such dreams.

Shouto can picture himself as a child, turning the corners of a happy home in loose socks and a towel tied his neck like a cape.  His mother would have laughed, and his father would have smirked, peering thoughtfully over the top of his morning paper. Of course, this false memory is nothing more than a poor imitation of normality, strung together from odd ends of pop culture and sitcom reruns.

But it’s a nice thought nonetheless.

No, it isn’t the costumes and pretend play that baffles Shouto.  It isn’t even the flash mobs, zombie runs or themed pub crawls. If U.A. had not kept him so busy, he might have joined in.

It’s the child, a little boy of maybe five or six, who stands in front of him dressed in a navy blue jumpsuit with burgundy wrist guards that causes him unease.  Brown eyes bright with awe, he rocks back and forth, teeming with excitement in his snow-white boots. The child’s movements strain the gray neckpiece connecting the high collar of his costume, and lower down, a brown utility belt jingles with every subtle movement.

Impressed, Shouto scans the child’s heart-shaped face, noting the wig as well as the makeup applied over his left eye to mimic Shouto’s infamous scar. It’s hard to fault the child or his proud mother for their fastidious attention to detail.  Yet, Shouto cannot help but wonder if they’d feel the same if they knew the story behind his mark.

He keeps his silence and forces a small smile, dropping a piece of candy into the kid’s plastic pumpkin along with a pre-autographed card.  Both treats hit the bottom of the container with a hollow thump. It’s only his twentieth visitor, but Shouto has already grown tired of tricks, treats and the children who’ve swarmed the decorated auditorium.

In true U.A. style, the event is ridiculously “Plus Ultra,” from Tokoyami’s Haunted House to the three-legged race officiated by Iida.  Even Bakugo has a part to play, though he has no lines. Ground Zero merely stands by Midnight’s side as she welcomes the crowds, and perhaps it is progress enough that he isn’t yelling obscenities over the sound of Earphone Jack’s festive music.

Shouto’s directive is to be more personable, and to this end, he is paired with Creati, handing out candy on a mock front porch.  So disarming is she that sometimes Shouto forgets that the Yaoyorozu family is old, old money. So kind, that from time to time, villains underestimate her S-class intelligence.

He’s realized recently that she takes advantage of their ignorance.  But not tonight.

Tonight, her smile is as open and unguarded as ever.  Bright eyes blaze in midnight shades of gray offset by the crimson cape of her hero’s costume and the gold belt glinting beneath it.  Flashes of skin capture Shouto’s unbidden attention, but moreover, he finds himself enthralled by the way she connects with both the students and parents.  They might put Shouto on a pedestal as a potential successor to All Might, but the public feels like they know Momo Yaoyorozu.

And sometimes Shouto is jealous.  Of what, he isn’t sure.

“Has the hero Shouto come to help me eat all this candy?” she asks the small boy.

Delight spreads across the child’s face when he realizes she’s talking to him and not the semi-pro handing out candy alongside her.  He happily thrusts his hand inside the plastic jack-o’-lantern and offers Momo an orange KitKat, which she politely declines. Instead, she produces a box of pocky and offers mini-Shouto a slender stick.  They laugh and share their sweets. Momo’s tongue darts out to greet the rich chocolate, and Shouto finds himself watching and wondering.

In the space of a second, the young man’s mind flits back to his earlier reverie.  But now, he is no longer the child; Shouto is the father, sipping a cup of tea, legs tucked under the kotatsu.  A little girl with split black and white hair sprints outdoors. She catches snowflakes in her gloved hands and spins as the flurries continue to fall.  Momo is seated next to him, watching their daughter.

It’s pleasant and disarming -- the precise qualities Momo exudes despite the danger lurking just out of sight and mind. He shakes the pesky thought off and continues to attend to the never-ending line of lookalikes. If it is jealousy Shouto feels, he hopes it will not show.  Not for the first time, he wonders if these wishful daydreams are truly tricks or treats.

A/N:  And that's a wrap, folks! Here's some light Todomomo to round out my Fictober 2019 challenge. Perhaps this is a couple of days late, but I'm calling this project a win. 30/31 is pretty good! A million thanks to everyone who followed this collection and encouraged me along the long, long road. As always, your kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes and reblogs give me life. Also, don't be a stranger and check out my tumblr. Send me questions, comments or whatever else may be on your mind.

[ocherrywine]

From Eden

Fandom: Good Omens , Ineffable Husbands

Words: 1085 Language: English Ch: 2/?? Rated: T Current Chapter Warnings: Extra Relationship Flirtation Future Chapter Warnings: Domestic Emotional Abuse , Talk of Cheating Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, Agnes Nutter, Gabriel Other Tags: AU, Modern AU, TV!GoodOmens, Human!Crowley, Human!Aziraphale, Human!AU, Friends to Lovers, Asexual!Aziraphale In Beta

A loud creaking and a quiet cough from a mostly unused shop bell alerted Aziraphale to the coming misfortune [1]. All of the enraptured contentment he had been feeling left him in a deflated puff from his lungs. Gingerly, he stuck his little decorative bookmark betwixt the sleepy pages as the cover fluttered closed. He stood and prepared to give a greeting one could generously call polite and conservatively call... well, acknowledgement one could suppose.

The tempest came, and it was in the form of a faintly familiar man with dark ruddy hair and even darker glasses. The gentleman did not remove his spectacles regardless of the dimness of the shop. He greeted Aziraphale first, “There you are, Angel. Come here often?” There was an air of mischief in his grin and light chuckle in the voice.

Aziraphale would play along, if only a little to indulge himself at the expense of the other- if only as retribution for interrupting his reading time, of course [2], “Actually, you know I don’t quite think so. I was moments ago spending time in Otherworlds, and the next thing I know I’m here in my own bookshop, name on it all, and talking to some vagabond who hasn’t seen fit yet to give me his name.”

A wicked smirk danced it’s way further into the angled cheekbones of the face, crinkling along the black moons of the glasses- Aziraphale swore he saw a little glimmer beneath, perhaps, “Crowley, Anthony J. Do just call me Crowley, all of the best people do.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale let the creeping spice of it smooth over his tongue, “ As you may have read- Aziraphale Fell. And to what do I owe your visitation? Or do you often follow men to their places of business from dear Agnes’s?”

“So you remember me.” “I suppose I do. Do I need to be worried, now? Phone 999?”

“Hardly a way to thank a humble delivery man,” he held out an enticing smelling little cup, “Agnes said it was your favorite. I mentioned I was looking for reading material, she pointed me here and sent me off with this, for troubling you.”

Aziraphale cautiously and gratefully took the cup and took a little sip. It certainly did not taste any kind of tampered with, not that any part of him seriously believed Crowley had any reason to poison him. Or he hoped Crowley hadn’t, as he was actually rather beginning to enjoy the banter they were having- and he felt it would be tragic to have it cut short with his own death. “Well, thank you. I don’t suppose you’re particularly interested in books of prophecy? That is my specialty.” “Any of them happen to be right, you think? Any you think may change my fate, reveal to me futures ever nearer? Maybe give me a leg up on the doomsday prep, give me a schedule for the world ending?”

“None I’m afraid anymore than the average Horoscope in your Sunday paper. Though it is always up to interpretation- how broad your strokes and how willing to apply your imagination.”

“A challenge, eh? As I have a rather lofty imagination, you know.”

“Well then I suppose you needn’t my recommendation. Just pick anything up and be off with you.”

“You wound me. It’s almost like you don’t want me to hand over my money, after I even brought you a nice cocoa.”

Aziraphale chuckled, it was...rather nice to speak to someone who could keep up so well with him, “Truth be told- this is...almost more of a library than a shop. I much prefer many of my copies stay here- the Plath and Wilde and Anniversary Edition of Shakespeare with Foil Cover and all that are disposable, but… well, I suppose I’m more a rare book collector than dealer. I’m more or less part time in my own establishment.”

“Well then how about I cut you a deal?” Crowley leaned, languid over a stray display stack, “I take one of those copies of Shakespeare off your hands for the coffee table, and just come...visit and read some of the others? I get to see what all the fuss is about, your collection stays here and in tact.”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened for but a moment before the words fell dead and he closed it again. He was going to inform Crowley that this was more of a private library than a public one- but something tugged at Aziraphale’s insides. He found that, despite his many friends surrounding him on shelves all round- it had been sometime since he had truly made the acquaintance of flesh and blood. Through the crowd of books, Azirapahle had to confess he did sometimes grow rather...lonely. He entertained the thought that, perhaps, he could make due with what was in front of him. The spindle of dark leather and snakeskin boots before him certainly wasn’t a poor choice. Aziraphale found the stranger actually...rather charming, in a way. His wit and bravado were at the very least enticing- in some unspoken way. Crowley just seemed so...confident in himself, so sure- and Aziraphale rather admired that. A different answer, then, presented itself in light of this choice, “Very well. I suppose the sofa is rather dusty and could use some breaking in again- and if you keep the cocoa coming, I could tolerate your company, my dear boy.”

Aziraphale disappeared for a moment, finding one of the gilded copies of Shakespeare- tracing the spiraling and swirling embellishments of the filigree gently with his finger [3]. The cover opened with a satisfying groan of the binding, and Aziraphale clicked open a pen from his desk, scrawling his number just inside the cover, signing cheekily ‘Angel’. 

Crowley’s teeth flashed, like a crocodile who had snapped its scaly maw onto the biggest fish in the pond, or a plump toddler who had waddled too close to shore.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Others would instead call this ‘misfortune’, a customer.

It would be approximately 6 months and 17 and ½ days before Aziraphale would look back on this moment and admit, openly, that this was not the case- and that he had found the tall dark stranger rather dashing and wanted to delight in his company.

Crowley, for whatever reason, found himself utterly captivated by the simple motion, and found that it sent an unrecognizable longing crawling about just under his skin he had not previously known- and that would plague him for a long time to come.

[ilovemygaydad]

No One [part 2]

from the friends in dark places au

pairing: pining logince, mentions of past toxic roman/oc

WARNINGS: crying, anxiety, alcohol usage, people get drunk, making out, kissing, PTSD, coming out, internalized transphobia, swearing, and mentions of: non-consentual sex, sexual assault, date rape drugs, drug usage, implied underage sex, blackmail (in the form of cp), transphobia, transphobic slurs, forced coming out, misgendering, food mentions, rebellious behavior, insensitive comments, physical assault, and possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it or if i need to add tags! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!

a/n 2: hey so this story is super dark and shitty, so please read with caution! i’m happy to summarize for anyone who needs it!!!

first of main plot - companions

part one of no one

consider buying me a coffee (please)

-

September 23, 2015

Roman shut his locker door, clicking the lock closed, and turned to walk to his first block class. He only made it a few feet before someone called his name.

“Roman! Hey, wait up!” He turned and found Audrey, the student council president, running towards him. She handed him a small card and smiled. “You’re invited to my homecoming after-party. I hope you’ll be there.” With a wink, she was gone.

As much as Roman feigned popularity, he never actually got invited to parties. But he was excited! Other than cast parties, it would be his first high school party, for goodness sake! His eyes scanned the invitation and immediately saw “One additional person allowed with each guest.” Roman weaved through the hallway--his short stature payed off for once--and made his way to Logan’s first class.

“Lo! I got invited to a party!” Ro whisper yelled to Logan. The other teen, who was engrossed in a book, nodded.

“That’s wonderful, Roman. And why are you telling me about this?”

Roman groaned and snatched the book from his friend. “Because I want you to come with me!”

Logan looked up at his, quirking his eyebrow. “You want me to accompany you to a party? Are you serious? Roman, you know that it isn’t nice to play practical jokes on your friends.”

“Of course I’m serious!” Roman sighed in exasperation. “I know it’s not really your thing, but Patton’s busy on Homecoming night, and I don’t want to go alone! Pleaaaaassseeeeeeeeeeee?” The one thing that could truly get Logan to bend was Roman’s whining voice. Well, that and when Roman climbed on Logan’s 5’11” frame with monkey-like skills.

“Fine. Just stop that incessant noise making! I’m assuming that normal curfew applies and that we’re going to need a ride?” Logan put his space bookmark in his book—Alice in Wonderland; go figure—and put his full attention on his friend.

“Yeah. Would your mom be okay with it?” Roman bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. He really wanted to go to this party.

“I’ll ask when I get home.” The two minute warning bell rang, and Logan gestured to the door. “You might want to leave now, Roman. Word History is rather far away.”

---

October 3, 2015

The whole inviting-Logan-to-the-party thing definitely hadn’t been an excuse to spend a whole day with him. Of course not. That would be a ridiculous idea…

Logan ended up wearing a black button up, black slacks, and a light blue tie. It was hardly different from his everyday wear, but it was slightly more snazzy. Roman wore a white button up and a red tie, which he claimed was what a prince would wear, and he’d dusted some pretty white highlighter on his cheekbones. It was subtle enough to pass as natural, but enhanced his features just enough to make Roman excited.

At six pm exactly, the two teens made their way down the stairs, met with an eager Mrs. Patrick. “You boys just look so nice! Oh, I’m so proud of you, Roman! You’ve come so far!”

Roman laughed nervously at her nearly outing him, but gave his mother a big hug. “Yeah, Mom. I have.” He chose to ignore the way that his binder felt so tight around his chest.

For most of the Homecoming dance, Roman danced with assorted friends from Drama, occasionally dragging Logan into the fray. As soon as the dance ended, Roman changed into some more casual clothes for the party (Logan had refused to bring any extras for himself), and they waited for Mrs. Christiansen to pick them up.

Logan’s mom made sure to outline what the plan was. They’d be dropped off at the party at 10:30, have three hours to do whatever it is that kids do at parties as long as it’s legal, and then they’d be picked up between 1:30 and 2:00. Which, honestly, was far more time than Roman had thought that they would get. Mrs. Christiansen, being a doctor, was always worrying about Logan becoming one of the horrific ER cases of teenagers in drunk driving accidents.

Once they’d arrived, Roman practically threw himself out of the car. His sneakers hit the sidewalk with a quiet thump, and Logan’s clacking shoes followed suit. They made their way to the door and knocked. A wave of sound hit them as soon as the door opened. Booming bass and piercing treble accosted their ears, and suddenly Roman was glad he had brought ear plugs for himself and Logan.

“Roman!” Audrey slurred, clearly already drunk. “And your sexy friend. Glad you two could make it.”

“Yeah…” Roman hesitated. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Audrey finally moved out of the way to make room for them to squeeze their way in. Logan dodged some sort of groping motion from Audrey, looking for safety in Roman. They might have gotten themselves a tad bit in over their heads.

The duo sat on the stairs for a few minutes before Roman heard a song he enjoyed, jumping into the pool of dancing bodies. Logan sighed, tapping at his phone absently. He had expected something like this to happen, but he didn’t want to leave Roman alone at a party. He didn’t trust people like Patton did.

Roman, on the other hand, grabbed a cup from a table of snacks and drank. The drink stung as it went down, but it settled nicely and gave him a bit of warmth on the frigid October night. He had no idea what he was drinking, but he continued to down the entire cup within the next five minutes.

---

Less than an hour later, Roman’s head felt completely clear as he stumbled through the crowd. Logan observed his friend drunkenly flirting with a lamp, which was quite funny, but it worried him slightly. He hadn’t even seen Roman drinking, and he was supposed to be protecting Roman. Logan sighed and looked back at his phone. Roman would be fine. He always was.

Roman sat in an armchair at the corner of the living room. He was happy and free and everything just felt right.

A boy that he didn’t recognize approached him, shouting over the loud music, “You look really great tonight!”

“Thanks!” Roman shouted back, ignoring the light blush dusting his cheeks. “What’s your name?”

“Cal! And you are?”

“Roman!”

“Well, Roman,” Cal started with a charming smile. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Roman nodded, and suddenly, they were dancing. He could feel the heat from Cal’s body radiating through his thin t-shirt. At any other time, Ro would be afraid of what other people were thinking, but everyone at the party was drunk out of their minds. Not a single person would pay mind to the gay kid dancing with a random guy at a party.

At some point, Roman had been led back to the chair he’d been sitting in just a bit ago. He felt his back press against the wall, and he glanced up to see Cal gazing hungrily at him. He should have felt fear; he knew that look isn’t anything good, but he didn’t care. Roman threw all his worries behind him as he reached up and kissed Cal.

---

Logan nearly had dozed off on the stairs when he saw a flash of red cross the room. He focused in on the smudge of color and saw Roman being led to a secluded corner of the room by a stranger. Logan jumped up; his protective instincts were kicking in. He’d been so stupid to think that Roman could handle himself while drunk. He knew the effects that alcohol could have on people, and he should have intervened when he saw Roman flirting with a fucking lamp!

Weaving his way through the mass of people, Logan mumbled quick apologies to the couples “dancing” and pushed forward. Finally, he reached where Roman was, but the sight Logan saw froze him in place.

Roman’s hands were casually slung around the stranger’s neck, and the two were making out with passion. The stranger's hands snaked their way up Roman’s shirt, touching the skin of his lower back. The stranger made a move to go in the direction of the stairs, and that’s what finally forced Logan out of his trance.

Anger, worry, and another mystery feeling bubbled up in Logan’s chest. He pushed the stranger away and took Roman by the hand, dragging his small friend up the stairs and into the first bathroom that he could find. He guided Roman in, turning to lock the door behind them, before facing his friend, who was now sitting cross legged on the floor and playing with the hem of his pants.

“Roman, what were you thinking? You don’t even know that guy! He could—and probably did—have malicious intent!” Logan scolded worriedly, kneeling down before Roman. He took his friend into his arms and nearly squeezed the life out of him.

Roman spoke up as soon as Logan let go. “I wasn’t thinking… I was just so caught up in the fact that someone liked me. It was stupid.” Tears began to trail down Ro’s face, staining his delicate features with a harsh, wet glare. “You’re just so good to me, Logan! And I’ve done nothing but hurt you! I’m a terrible friend.” Roman was practically wailing, throwing his head into his hands.

“What? Roman, that’s not—“

“I’ve been lying to you—and Pat, for fuck’s sake—since we met. I just didn’t want to lose you like I lost everyone else! I’m just… I’m a girl.” Logan stayed completely silent, not wanting to interrupt whatever his friend was saying. Ro shook his head and corrected himself. “No, that’s not right. I was born a girl.”

After processing the information for a few moments, Logan spoke. “You’re transgender, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m trans. I started transitioning just before I moved to Westview. The kids at my school bullied me for ‘pretending’ to be a boy, and it just got to be too much for me to handle. We moved here, and I had a completely fresh start. I didn’t have to tell anyone that I was a boy now, just that I was a boy.”

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“I didn’t want to lose you two, or worse… Or…” Roman’s words broke into a sob, and Logan reached to grab Ro’s hand as reassurance. “Just before freshman year, one of the boys at my summer camp sexually assaulted me.” Logan opened his mouth, but he was cut off immediately. “I know that you know, but you don’t know the full story. I always knew who assaulted me, but I lied and told the counselors and the police that I had no idea who it could be. They gave up looking after a while. The boy who assaulted me found out I was trans after the first time, and he blackmailed me with it. He used it to make me feign his innocence and to… He made me have sex with him throughout the rest of the summer. I never wanted to, but I'd convinced myself that it was for the best. I didn’t want to have to deal with the rejection of everyone finding out I was trans. He is the prime example of what I didn’t want to happen, and it solidified my case for not telling you guys.

“I look at my body in the mirror and want to throw up because I remember all the terrible things I’ve done. I hate myself.”

Logan wiped at the tears running down his face. He had never even imagined all the pain that Roman had gone through; it had all been hidden so well. He could have been here for Roman, helping him through his emotional struggles, yet he had been completely useless. And it was made even worse with the knowledge that Roman wouldn’t be saying any of this except for the fact that he was drunk.

“Roman, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry that you had to live through all of that. I’m an idiot for not seeing the signs,” Lo whispered, tracing circles in the back of Roman’s hand with his thumb.

“I hid it well. I don’t have all those acting awards for nothing, Lo.” Roman’s laugh echoed in the tiled space. It was a ruse, for sure, and it cracked down like the ceramic in the shower. Ro finally let all of his emotions out, ones that he’d kept in for years and years. The two friends embraced once more until Roman’s sobs ceased, and he was gently sleeping on Logan’s shoulder.

Logan pulled out his phone. Shit. His mom had been waiting for nearly ten minutes. He shot her a quick text, and scooped Roman up into his arms. He quickly and carefully made his way down the stairs and through the mob of people, quickly grabbing his and Roman’s jackets before running outside. His mom was, thankfully, parked right outside, and he easily was able to dump Roman in the back seat and slide in next to him.

Mrs. Christiansen gave Logan a worried look. “Don’t worry, Mom. Ro just had a panic attack, and he fell asleep due to emotional exhaustion. He’ll be fine by morning.” She gave up trying to find out more and drove them back to the safety of the Christiansen household.

---

May, 2017 [sometime in the weeks following prom]

“Roman, you’ve been putting it off for weeks now. Virgil isn’t going to make fun of you for being trans,” Logan coaxed, pushing his boyfriend toward Patton’s house. “And if he does, I’ll personally kick his ass.”

“I just don’t want to risk it, babe. What if he doesn’t say anything but he gives me The Look? What do I do then? This could ruin his and Patton’s relationship, and he’s finally found someone that he’s happy with! I don’t want to do that to him, Lo!” Roman pleaded, trying to turn back towards the car.

But Logan had already thought this through. The front door swung open, and Virgil stepped into the warm spring air. “You wanted to tell me something, Knight in Shining Converse?”

Roman froze, slowly turning to face the emo disaster on the front stoop. “Uh… Yeah?”

“What’s up?” Virgil asked calmly, noticing the tension built up in Roman and acting accordingly.

“I’m, uh… transgender… So, like, I was born a girl, and now I’m a boy.” Roman stuttered his way through the explanation, knowing that it was probably unnecessary, but not really able to get out of it.

“Cool. Is that all you guys wanted? Cause Patton and I are watching Big Hero 6, and I kinda want to get back to it. You guys are welcome to join us, too.” Virgil sounded a bit ticked off, but it was pretty obvious that he just wanted to watch his movie.

Roman smiled gently. “That would be fantastic.”

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Strength Comes in Many Forms

Pairing: Duma x reader

Prompt: I honestly could not tell you what was on my mind when I wrote this

Description: As you try and grow closer with the fabled War Father, you ask him to consider things from your point of view.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: minor outburst, nothing terrible

Word Count: 1472

Notes: Guess who had to get this out of her system! Sure I thirst for him, but I also think he’s written really well and provides great depth into his character! I really like how this one came out~

Edited: 6/7/21; Sydney now thinks this fic is Just Okay

You had seen strength in many forms, be it physical, mental, or spiritual; be it what it may, you had likely come into contact with it before. But it never ceased to amazing you, how humanity as whole remained so strong and showed it so many ways. And when you met Duma himself, you too were amazed at his physical valor. He was as strong as he claimed, perhaps even more. It was power like that that helped him build a nation, that helped him protect his people. You wanted to think there was more to it than that, though.

“You say you admire me as a warrior… but you know very well I can’t fight.” He often liked you to join him in his training. Even if you don’t plan to be in the fight he said, best be prepared. Everyone should know how to defend themselves.

He paused in his regimen a moment, turning to face you with a smile. “Still, you possess it. I’m still looking forward to the day you face me in battle yourself.” He returned to what he was doing but you knew he was still attentively listening to what you had to say.

“But maybe the strength you see in me is something else-- there’s more to it than simply being the strongest.” You frowned a little and he paused, shaking his head.

“You sound like my sister… always going on about how it takes more than strength to rule a country.” He shook his head, though you could see the hint of a smile gracing his lips. “The two of you would get along well, I think.”

“Don’t you not get along with her, though?” You frowned a little. “I thought you liked me.”

“There are differences to you yet, Summoner.” Duma let of a chuckle and you let yourself smile again.

“But seriously Duma. I’d like you to consider it, okay?” Your voice had gone soft, and once again Duma was looking at you. He frowned a little but you continued speaking. “Try the find the strength in things other than power and see what other ways of ruling can lead to.”

“What? So my people may grow lazy and satisfied like those with Mila’s bounty?” He snarled the words out and you took a step back, not expecting the hostile tone. “You have earned my respect for the power you wield, Summoner but do not think you have earned my favor.” Duma stopped was he was doing and quickly left the room.

“I’m sorry!” You called after him, half jogging to keep up with his brisk pace. “I’m sorry if I upset you or attacked your ideals but… it would mean a lot to me if you considered it.” You slowed your pace, eventually coming to a stop as he continued on. You wondered if your words even reached him.

~*~

But oh, Duma was loathe to admit they did. The more time he spent around you, in this order of heroes seeing you lead them, changed him. He still prided himself in his power, built his strength in being able to protect his people and lead them in charge. You did things for his followers he could not, though. When they were hurt, you often volunteered yourself with their wounds. When the toil of war became too much for some to bear, there you were, with words so comforting those Heroes found it in themselves to continue the fight. And with all this, you were still so gifted a leader. Admittedly, it perplexed him how you could have such a show of strength only to turn around and act in such a fashion.

But perhaps it was he that was the one lacking; not the strength to protect but the ability to help those who find themselves week.

You were still a strange one, though, claiming that even people who don’t speak when they’re together can grow closer. Grow your bond with one another, as you called it.You were reading and Duma was trying to polish his armor but his thoughts always seemed to drift to you. “Tell me, Summoner, what is it you desire?” he asked suddenly, snapping your attention from your book.

“Beg pardon?” You placed your bookmark in, obviously too focused a moment before to properly hear him. Duma rolled his eyes a bit, you always did get absorbed into what you were doing.

“Why is it you work so hard for this Order of Heroes when these people are not your own? This is not the path you choose for yourself but you still diligently apply yourself to it. But don’t you desire more?” You paused a moment to ponder his words.

“I’ll admit when I first came here I was… hesitant. I didn’t think I was the right person for the job and I had no practice in what I was expected to do. But I’ve been here… two years now? And I’ve grown into the role. I feel like this is where I belong. If they weren’t before, these are my people now and I’m happy to serve and protect them.”

“Aptly said.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s not to say I don’t have my moments. I wonder of my old life sometimes, the world I came from is far different than Askr or any of the other worlds I’ve visited…  But I’m needed here, far more than I was in the world I came from and for as long as I needed, I’ll choose to stay.”

“I’ve said before, I respect you for that, but still I wonder, don’t you want the power to defend? To protect those you care for with your own two hands?” He pondered.

“It would certainly be nice but I don’t think that’s the kind of thing I was made for.” You shook your head and smiled at him. “I see what you’re trying to do here Duma and I promise, I’m plenty okay with the strengths I have now. It's with those and my flaws, that I’m human.” He laughed openly, shaking his head.

“Very well, might I suggest a different sort of proposal then?” He moved closer until he was standing over you and your bed.

“Oh, what do you mean?” You were looking up at him, smile still on your face.

“I mean a life, together, with you always at my side.” You would be lying if you said you weren’t surprised now to see his towering form now kneeling before you, his hands reaching to hold yours in his. You were speechless, letting him continue to say what he would. “I was stubborn before; too blinded by my own ideals to see the wisdom in my sister's words and too caught up in my regrets to hear them again when you echoed them.” he closed his eyes and shook his head a little but opened them to speak to you once more. “With you, I can see the error of my ways and my thinking. You make me stronger, and for it, my people as well. I only ask that you give me the chance to make you stronger for it as well.” His smile was so genuine, you couldn’t help but place your free hand over your beating heart.

“Duma...” For a moment, all you could say was his name and feel the heat reaching your cheeks. Your words caught in your throat and you stammered. “Y-yeah, this certainly is a different sort of proposal altogether isn’t it?” Once more, Duma’s laugh met your ears again and you calmed a little at that. He really was serious about this, wasn’t he?

“It seems with my respect you gained my love as well.” You would expect him to be hesitant to say such a thing to a human such as yourself but it seemed your words really did reach him…

“I-I’m sorry if I seemed so shocked, this sort of thing doesn’t happen every day...” You laughed a little yourself but Duma lifted one of his hands and cradled your cheek in it.

“You need not rush with this answer, I’m well aware it's a lot to take in. But I thought I may as well put these feelings out there and let you know-- you have changed me, _____, and it is for the better.”

“You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by name, and not just Summoner...” You laughed a little and leaned into his hand. “Duma I… I don’t think I need think on it. I accept. Nothing would make me happier than staying by your side.”

“Today, I am truly blessed.” His smile grew into a grin, and he leaned his forehead against yours. “For our love shall truly change the lands.”