#but it’s all dumb politics for the sake of a silly bit

[tench]

Veilguard is such a weird game.

It's not a Dragon age game, it's bately a role playing game. It's an ok action. Even though it is the most stable AAA release it is still just a bunch of barely tied together stuff in a trench coat.

The writing (insultingly dumbed down and absolutely incapable of taking itself seriously untill the last 1/6 of the game) is all over the place, the direction is nonexistent judging by the tonal shift from one quest to another. We can have very heart felt monologue about the fear of death sit right next to a conversation where a lot of things are told using one specific phrase (I really hope in a clumsy attempt at emphasis) repeated till these words lose any meaning to you.

There's also a problem of role-playing in this "rpg" and the Rook. None of your dialogue choices matter in terms of defining your character, no matter the option you choose, the general conversation will carry the upbeat silly tone. "Your backstory and class matter more than your race" works untill it doesn't, like when you are a dwarf but you are denied your own journey and realizations tied to the titans, and maybe it is not your journey to take yet you can't even try to be a part of it, even when Harding is actively reaching out to other dwarves to share this connection. It's also weirdly more interested in writing romance between npcs than for the main character (Lucanis comes to mind, it feels like the game is actively punishing you for pursuing him, you have to lose the whole shadow dragon faction, you won't get to hang out with Dorian and still you have bare minimum and he more interested in Neve anyway), that's extremely funny that this game is player-sexual yet completely player-aromantic. (And I miss the dai option where you can come up and kiss your LI whenever you feel like it).

I won't even touch on the weird and unnecessary sanitation of everything, like we can't allow people or factions to have negative traits whatsoever. And it's not "southern propaganda", it's "we are not engaging with complex topics for the sake of clear dichotomy between good us and evil overlords". Speaking of which

The whole plot.. The general idea of it is ok. You come to stop Solas, you make the situation go sideways, you have to work together to fix your mistakes and maybe learn to sympathize with the antagonist haunted by his own transgressions with the main theme being legacy and your relationship with your culture and the baggage it brings. But the journey is a complete disaster. Part of it works solely because the characters absolutely Refuse to make a plan and the other - because the main character has a blunt head trauma. Maybe it's related. Maybe it's all a mass hallucination. I may try to elaborate on how it's absolutely ridiculous how little the inquisition and the politics have any impact in this game yet somehow 8 people squatting in the Fade with no political affiliations are held responsible for providing for every faction they come across. I won't even try to make sense of it. It's the usual case of "the main character does everything".

The direction is not only absent in the writing. Some lines that are ok in text delivered in such a way you may think they were allowed only to use the very first take.

The music is absolutely forgettable. Also the odd riff during the dramatic reveal absolutely took me out because I thought I heard kazoo (but I bet Varric would love it).

The visuals are.. Ok. It's pretty on the first glance but the more you travel the more you realize that the general design of the locations are kinda lacking. They have this weird gradient that makes everything a little bit more unfocused and a bit washed out. There are also too many cases of the horisont just drowning in the fog. Air perspective is great and it suits locations like Necropolis, but I would argue that these establishing shots should be used for environmental storytelling in other places, with some focal points in the background, like during the final mission where you see the world absolutely drowning in the blight, devouring local statue of liberty. Or the dead Titan. Or the first shot of the Veil jumper forest (I forgot how it's called) where you see the ruins going into he sky. But because of the fog (or sometimes darkness) it feels like the game is more interested in cheating the optimisation than to hint on the bigger picture (like the chantry and the gallows buildings that you can see almost from all locations in DA2 or the andrastian/dread wolf imagery of inquisition)

So, in conclusion. Not the worst game I played, yet disappointing, even if we pretend it's not an installment of a beloved franchise that people were waiting for 10 years.

Ps. Also making such a game with nerfing all the lore only to nuke all the legacy locations is a choice I won't ever understand. It's like it is not for the fans and it's not for the new people but a secret third thing.

[visenyaism]

I must’ve missed it. Why would Criston Cole become a saint? I think this would be verrry contentious in the seven kingdoms and likely not officially recognized by the High Septon for diplomacy purposes, tho I could see him being locally worshipped in various places

in my mind it’d be one of those things that got pushed through during the sad short reign of aegon ii where he’s not ruling he’s just coping like yeah i need gazillion foot statues of aemond and daeron built right now i need my mom and my sister to be historicized as the only true queens of westeros. also can you get criston cole canonized. and corlys velaryon and larys strong just have to be like uh huh sure thing my liege by the way want me to hold your drink while you’re busy making all these decisions

[niktoes]

₊˚♡˚₊ a silly collection of general headcanons surrounding könig ₊˚♡˚₊

♡ because he lacks a name so far, i just gave him otto at some point b/c I like it. so! ♡

♡ on this blog, könig's name is otto, used while he's off duty ♡

Tags: headcanon, no pairings, general everyday life stuff.

♡ generally a laidback, mellow man with a playful streak and knack for mischief when the mood strikes him. tends to be more reserved upon first meetings, but loosens up with a little time and familiarity. he knows pretty quickly if he'll wind up friends with someone. very much the type of man that either clicks with someone right off the bat or doesn't at all.

♡ even off-duty, otto's professional moniker is unassuming enough that it became a silly nickname among good friends at some point after a little slip-up on his part, earlier in life. it's a bit cheeky, but it's all in good fun and doesn't really carry any risk. a night on the town among friends? there isn't a drink served to him that isn't followed by a dumb, 'your drink, mein König?', or some other variation of 'oh, my liege ordered the cake! feeling bad tonight, are we?'. yeah, his friends can really ham it up sometimes - and he's pretty tickled to play into it, too.

♡ he's blunt, and his humour tends to lean more into sarcasm than cheeky one-liners, though he'll definitely rattle a couple off if the moment lines up just right. he doesn't enjoy speaking just for the sake of speaking, so if he's roped into a conversation with no real direction just to fill the time, he's likely to politely disengage. he can get a bit stiff otherwise, because empty talk tends to leave him with nothing to contribute to the conversation - and that typically just makes him feel a bit awkward.

♡ man's got a sweet tooth that he works hard to compensate for in the gym. yeah, he's lifting to stay in the best shape possible for the field, but sweets also just love to stick to his bones if he doesn't have something to burn off the extra carbs. he loves some good apple pastries.

♡ the hood is not a permanent fixture on his head. at work? sure, but that's largely due to the fact that he is already an easily recognisable man, thanks to his juggernaut stature. if he's off-duty and milling around town, he's bare-faced and comfortable in his skin. he has social anxiety, but in this season of his life, it tends to manifest more as a manageable discomfort when he's shoved into the spotlight. like being called out in public by an oblivious stranger, 'so big! wow! how tall are you?', is both old and feels a bit rude when he's otherwise just trying to mind his own business.

♡ has plenty of hobbies outside of work, both outdoorsy and in. hiking, quiet walks in the market, he likes watching hockey - and he's liable to shred his buddies in football/soccer due to his natural competitiveness. working out to relieve stress, cooking, and reading is an especially dear hobby to him, too. he likes all kinds of genres. campy romance novels are not off the table - in fact, they're his fun little secret for quiet nights in.

♡ he isn't at all socially inept. the man's pushing 40 years old, and for what he lacked in his younger years he's learned to compensate for over time. direct communication is obviously his preference if he doesn't know someone well, because he sometimes risks missing the point if someone's being vague with the intention of making him read between the lines. tends to misconstrue more subtle flirtation as someone just being friendly, if a bit casual, so his dating life is definitely a bit slower than someone else's might be. doesn't help that his schedule is always pretty packed.

♡ buzzcut könig reigns supreme here! sometimes he lets it grow out a bit if he's off duty for a while, but it's really just easier to manage a shaved head in his line of work. less fuss over taming his hair, less time and money spent on maintenance - he just prefers a close, clean cut over letting his hair go wild. he refuses to deal with longer hair getting in his eyes when he wears his hood, or trying to ignore the weight of its fabric pulling on a ponytail. it is a pretty colour though, when it's a little longer. ash blonde, with a couple premature greys that've been kicking around since his late 20s.

♡ hyperaware of himself and his surroundings at all times. it's not even a conscious act on his part anymore to keep his head on a swivel and his eyes keen. he's always been this way, because growing up with social anxiety in his day was rough. he's damn good at reading people and their feelings, and as a result of that, he tends to be a fairly empathetic guy. if someone he cares about is going through tough times, he'll pick up on it relatively fast and he's overall happy to lend a listening ear or a helping hand if anyone needs one.

♡ memory of a goddamn elephant. otto does not forget what he's picked up through conversation, and because of that he tends to come across as the thoughtful sort. close friends and family get damned good gifts when it hits the holiday season or a birthday, because at some point he's heard what everyone would like, and he buys accordingly - he definitely makes the money to do so. however, his gifts are generally useful or sentimental rather than dust collectors. he really isn't a fan of useless gifts bought without any real thought invested into them.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: The Hurricane Wars by Thea Guanzon

4/5. Releases 10/3/2023.

Vibes: enemies to lovers who actually do battle, secret princess-ness, masks (hot), and fantasy meets sci-fi

When Prince Alaric, son of the Night Emperor, discovers that orphan rebel Talasyn wields magic to counter his own, he knows there's more to her than what meets the eye. Combined, their abilities reach untold degrees of strength. The question is--now that they know this, what are they going to do about it?

Thea Guanzon has taken her original source material, infused it with a Filipino influence, and created a really interesting enemies to lovers romance that is heavy on politics and plotting. It was a step towards world-heaviness for me, but it never lost my attention and set up a compelling love story.

Quick Takes:

--Yes, this is a classic "dark prince/light girl" story, which I know some people are going to rag on, but it does that setup very well. And it's a classic for a reason, you know? Alaric and Talasyn are legitimately enemies, which is kind of hard to find in EtL right now. You begin this novel with them in the heat of battle, and I don't think they're going to overcome their issues easily, however much they may be attracted to each other. It feels like an actual challenge.

I'll add that, to me, Alaric's motivations for standing where he does make much more sense than those of many characters we could compare him to. Frankly, for me, as soon as you make someone the "Prince of the Apparently Evil Empire", you've already done a lot of the work there. We may want to see these corruption arcs, but the reality is that if you were raised on the "good side" (is the good side really good--a question in this novel, for sure) you have to like... either be dumb or naive enough to get seduced into the dark, or legitimately agree with the dark side's points on some level. Alaric doesn't really have a lot of choice here--there is family and responsibility and also simply culture to consider. I found all of that interesting, and I will say that he is undeniably the more compelling of our two leads, but like. That's not a shocker, all things considered.

Also, Alaric has like, never held the hand of a woman, and him getting very literally distracted by Sexy Girl was highly entertaining and pleasing to me and my brand.

--I really liked his mask. I have nothing to say about this except "mask is hot", mask made a big impression on me, I was a fan, 10/10 mask usage.

--You do start right in the midst of the action, but in terms of the romance it's a slow burn. Like, a slower burn than what I usually read; a "this will take a few books to cover" slow burn. However, I didn't feel frustrated by that, because it seemed natural. They could not simply jump into their desires and feelings here. The situation was too complicated, and they would have looked a bit silly if they had acted any earlier than they did.

--I've seen other reviews that call this too romance-heavy, calling out the world-building and magic system... Whereas I as a romance reader am like "this could have used a bit more romance". I would definitely call this a romance--but like I said, there's gotta be some stretch over (I believe) three books. She has to take her time. In the end, and I kind of feel like... I don't know, Thea, you don't need to explain the world much more for me. I'm good, I get it, I don't need the minutiae of magic. So while I'm not saying that fantasy-first readers are wrong in that sense, I do tend to wonder if this book is meant for fantasy-first readers. To me, it's reading as more romance-first, but I DO want to see the romance kick up a notch in the next book, and I'm reading this with the assumption that it will.

For the sake of comparison--as someone who enjoyed Fourth Wing, I would call this heavier on the worldbuilding than Fourth Wing, but still somewhat comparable in a tonal sense. The Big War Plot and the Magic and Shit is secondary to the Feelings. As they should be, in my opinion. Again, I really think that in the next installment, it should be HEAVIER on the feelings. I do worry somewhat that romance-first readers might have an equal but opposite complaint to the fantasy-first readers.

--In that sense, I do think this book is a little denser than it needed to be, and we could've used a little bit of quickening in the general pace. Like, I was engaged, I was interested, I was about it, I just think it could have mored a little faster. That said, I am someone who in general prefers a brisk pace, and I know that this is not necessarily the norm for fantasy-heavy books.

The Sex:

As I said, this is a slow burn. It's not closed door by any means (what happens is explicit and clear) but we're taking incremental steps towards a full................ commitment.

Interesting and romantic and adventurous, The Hurricane Wars is a step outside of the norm if you're not used to fantasy or fantasy romance, but I found it pretty easy to understand and fun to read. Would recommend!

Thanks to Harper Voyager and Netgalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[a-very-tired-raven]

Hello there! I just read your Swatch x Reader headcanons and was wondering Could i possibly get a Spamton x Reader where Spamton is just totally confused on if the Reader genuinely loves him or if its just some sales pitch. Hes been my comfort character for a while so it'd be nice :>

thank you for reading my silly request :]

Hiya broski! Sorry this took a bit to answer! I didn't really know how to approach this ask. I'm new to fics so I needed to take a bit to prepare so I would know how to write this and to get into the lil man's head if that's alright! Hope you enjoy my dude and remember to lemme know if anythings wonky!

●True Intentions ●

"Here you go sir, your order?" He gave a polite nod to the server "Yes thank you." They gave a small smile and walked away. He took a small sip of his drink as he returned to his thoughts. Spamton was....confused to say the least. He met you about a week ago in the alleyway of his shop.

You'd been looking for your pet or something and tried to dig in a garbage bin....Which was actually his shop. That was locked. He just got back with some goods thst he got a nice deal on and all he saw was some stranger pulling on the lock to his shop. He angerly poked on your waist to see what you were up to.

"What are you doing?!"You jumped and awkwardly explained what it was you were doing when he demanded to know what you were up to.

"I uh..lost my pet..I thought I seen her go off this way?" Of course he was still skeptical but put his goods up and helped you look.

Eventually you two did find what you were looking for and you thanked him more times then we could count. Right before you left is when you started the confusion. You awkwardly asked for his number, and when asked why you nervously shrugged and said he was nice and you thought he was cute. Which absolutely baffled him

When was the last time someone complemented him? Let alone ask for his number and want to spend more time again. He accepted of course and didn't think anything of it.

He started thinking about it when he ran into you almost every day for the rest of the week. Everytime you saw him you were thanking him,and trying your best to make small talk.

This included asking him questions, like what did he do for a living,how many sales has he made,what's the biggest deal he's made. All if which he's awkwardly responded to with vague and short answers. This made him even more suspicious. Whyd you wanna know so much about his job and deals?

He hasn't seen you since everyone's moved to the dark town. Maybe he wouldn't see you again. If there's a whole 'nother dark world who's to say there's not more? Maybe you were somewhere else.

The smell of pastries pulls him out of his thoughts a little. Banana nut he thinks. He does admit you are kinda cute.. which brings him to the present. Why him? It's pretty well known he's a business man.

A horrible one at that. He only Ever gets people's attention when they want to get a deal or a-a..a sales pitch...

His fists clench. Of course. Why else would you go after someone like him? You just wanna make a sales pitch. Nothing more then that. You could of just said so. You didn't have to barge in his life like that and lead him on all for the sake of a deal. It all makes sense now!

Who makes small talk like that??? About deals,and sales...why was that the first question to asked? Why not start off with basic small talk?? Why be interested in him? Why him? Why'd you need to know what his biggest sale and deal was! Of all the people...You just wanted a good deal...

He doesn't hear the distant chime of the Cafe bell. He just angrily glares daggers at his own reflection. It wasn't until a shy familiar voice spoke pointedly in his direction did he force his head out of the clouds.

"Hey Spamton! I uhm.. how are you doing today?" You give a soft smile and take a seat in front of him. "I'm fine" He looked the other way. "Um.. " You glance at the window. You look at his order. "Ohh number 7! That's a good one. Moonberry fudge and a gram apple muffin. Nice." You give a soft smile.

He just remains quiet. You seem a little anxious by now. "..weather's nice huh?.." with only a human for a response you start brimming with anxiety. You try a different approach. "I had a good day at work! We didn't have any rude people.." You look at him.

"Uh how about you? How's work? You made any good sales today?" He looks up at you with a harsh glare. "Wouldn't you like to know!" You flinch and your happy aura quickly forms into an apologetic one.

"I-..im-im sorry..I didn't mean to ask anything sensitive.." You give a sorry look. "I didn't did i?" You look down at your hands. Spamtion hesitates for a moment. No.. He..He cant hesitate. He stands up.

"Yes. Yes you did impose. You imposed in my life acting all kind when I know what you really want." You have the audacity to look confused. "What are you talking about?." He ignores you and heads towards the exit. "Spamton? Spamton wait! Please..I just wanna kno-"

Your conversation fades to the back of his mind as he exists the Cafe and heads towards his house. He should have know better. That way it wouldn't have hurt as bad... He gives a soft wave to a wherewire and keeps walking. After a little bit he stops walking immediately when he feels I small tap on his shoulder.

He turns. "What?!" You give a hurt expression and focus on your hands. "I um..I just wanted to apologize for imposing.. I didn't know you didn't like talking about that" He rolls his eyes. "Just leave me alone already. It's pretty obvious you just want to talk business." Confusion crosses your face once more.

"What? What are you talking about?" His fists clench again. "Aw stop playing dumb already! It's pretty obvious you don't like me, Your just after a good deal or you want a chance at being some big shot with a sales pitch!" He didn't realize he was yelling.

Your practically cowering at this point. "I-what! No-No I'm not! Please believe me I really do like you.. I don't even know how to do business like that!" You have your hands up in front of you as if a policeman had pulled you over.

He falters for a moment. He looks back up again when you speak up. Sorta. "Please..is there anything I can do to make you believe me..." You say just barely above a whisper. He just remains quiet. After a moment of shared silence you were fed up.

"Fine then! I'll prove I'm crazy for you! Absolutely bonkers! You hear?!" You grab both his shoulders, "H-Hey! Put me down!" And yank him up and plant a big kiss on his cheek. "Now will you please go on a date with me?!"

Your face is absolutely covered top to bottom with a beautiful shade of red. Both from anger and embarrassment.After a moment of silence you awkwardly drop him. "S-sorry.." you hide your face in the neck if your shirt.

His cheeks are burning a bright peachy color. "Um..it's alright" after a small beat of silence he adds "yes."

You look back down at him. "Yes what??" You look confused. "...yes I'll go on a date with you.." He doesn't think anyone who'd want some deal would go that far. He believes you now and he says so.

Your quiet for a moment. A small smile works its way on your face. "Alrighty come on, I know just the place" you give a small wink and grab his hand dragging him off to who knows where. "W-what now?!" He gives a baffled expression as he tries to keep up.

You turn and look down again "yes now silly! I gotta make sure you belive me 100!" percent!. "A-alright then..." maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all...

ISNSJSS God that was a lot! And toughie! I enjoyed it tho!

[youbloodymadgenius]

Happiness is Everything (Modern!Ivar x reader)

A/N: This wasn’t requested; I needed to give my boy some love, and a strong bond with Hvitserk. It’s nothing but a silly comfort fic.

@geekandbooknerd​ - Thank you for beta reading this for me 💖

@zuxiezendler​ - Thank you 😉🌸 (and you know why)

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Ivar doesn't want any more set-ups. Hvitserk’s stubborn girlfriend disagrees.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst due to Ivar’s temper and insecurities; an obvious lack of plot; lack of creativity; fluff+++.

Words: 2575

Stifling a hiss of pain, Ivar flops down on the couch, leaning his crutch against its armrest. 

 "Here." Hvitserk joins him, handing him a beer before gulping a long sip of his. "So, brother," Hvitserk's face is slightly crumpled as he looks at him, "There's a last-minute change." 

 With a tight-lipped expression on his face, Ivar frowns. He hates last-minute changes with a passion. "What are you talking about, Hvitserk?" He asks curtly while massaging his right thigh absently. 

 "Thora will be with us tonight." Hvitserk shrugs, his discomfort obvious. 

 "Okay." Ivar tilts his head, confused. Every Thursday night, he and his brother spend the night together. Usually at Hvitserk’s place, eating frozen pizzas – a lot of them, Hvitserk being Hvitserk. Most of the time, Thora, who enjoys spending time with her friends, leaves them alone. Sometimes she stays home though, and honestly, it's fine. The truth is, he likes Thora. She's smart and funny, and uncomplicated. Sure, he didn't warm to her right away. It took time. But now, it's okay. He probably won't say it out loud, but yeah, he likes her.

 "So…" Raising a brow, Ivar takes a sip of his beer, "It's no big deal." As Hvitserk keeps silent, Ivar scrutinizes him. His brother is clearly nervous and not at ease at all. Ivar slowly licks his lips. "What are you not telling me, brother?" He knows he's right when Hvitserk lowers his gaze.

 "Well…" Hvitserk clears his throat, "She won't be alone."

A wide-eyed look on his face, Ivar snarls, pursing his lips. "What does that mean, Hvitserk?" The icy cold tone of his voice matches his hard stare, his knuckles turning white as he clenches his hands into fists. 

 Hvitserk winces, "You know what it means, brother," before taking a seat in the armchair across from Ivar, the small coffee table between them suddenly highly appreciated. One can never be too careful when facing Ivar's anger. 

 "Are you fucking kidding me?" Clenching his jaw, Ivar bangs his fist on the table, and Hvitserk immediately leans forward, catching his brother's beer just before it falls down. 

 "I'm not, Ivar. Listen, I'm sorry but Tho–"

 Ivar cuts him off, running nervously his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it! Remember the fiasco with Thora's cousin? And then with her colleague? What was her name? Livia? Lisa? See, she didn’t even stay long enough for me to remember. Anyway, I thought I was pretty clear after that, wasn't I? Maybe you and your girlfriend should go and check your hearing, what do you think, hm, brother?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, Ivar gives Hvitserk dagger eyes, his pointer finger tapping the side of his head. "No more set-ups. That's what I said, right? Sounds pretty clear, huh? Do I need to tell it again, brother? Look at my mouth, I wouldn't want you to miss it this time,” He points to his lips then in a sarcastic manner, “No. More. Set-ups. No. More. Blind. Dates." Bottom lip quivering, Ivar, who's boiling mad, struggles to hold back his anger.

 "I know, brother…" Hvitserk swallows, rubbing his hand over his face, "but you know Thora means well, don't you? I briefly met Y/N once and honestly, she seemed nice enough. Plus, Thora's not really setting you up. We'll be together, the four of us, here, just eating pizza, it hardly counts as a date, don't you think?"

 Disgruntled, Ivar heaves an exasperated sigh, his nostrils flaring. "Stop playing dumb, Hvit, and don't tell me you've never heard of double dates!" He stares at his brother, his pupils dilated, shading his eyes darker blue. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." As he reaches for his crutch, a scowl on his face, Hvitserk stands up, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

 "Isn't that obvious?" Ivar mocks him while adjusting his legs in front of him. "I'm leaving!" Shifting his butt forward, he laces his left arm through the metal loop of his crutch, places his right hand on the coffee table, and then slowly hauls himself to his feet, grunting and swearing under his breath. He has a false start, where it seems he's going to fall right back onto the couch, but Hvitserk catches him skilfully, gripping his upper right arm. As soon as he's sure his baby brother has found his balance, Hvitserk releases his arm and Ivar gives him a tight, thank-you smile. 

 Hvitserk barely nods, as if nothing happened. And gosh, Ivar may be mad at him about this stupid set-up-non-set-up thing, but right now he's feeling mostly grateful. His brother not making a big deal out of his struggles never fails to amaze him.

With any other of his brothers, it wouldn't have been the same. 

Bjorn would have looked at him as if he were an utter failure, and then maybe helped him – out of pity, Ivar is sure of that – but not without paternally patting him on the shoulder; or even worse, on the head. The thought makes him cringe and he shakes his head, chasing it away. Bjorn is no longer around anyway, busy traveling around the world with his fourth wife. Or maybe it's the fifth? Ivar lost count a long time ago. 

 Sigurd would have kicked his crutch out from under him while Ubbe would have forced him to sit down, hovering beside him for far too long, afraid he would slip or stumble, or break a bone. Between Ubbe and Sigurd, between plague and cholera, Ivar is honestly not sure which one is better. Or worse. After all, it's all a matter of perspective. 

 Fortunately, Hvitserk – his favourite brother, and it is no coincidence – never treats him differently; never belittles him; never mothers nor smothers him. With him, Ivar feels like he's normal.

 Gratefulness flooding his mind, a pang of guilt suddenly hits him. He knows that if he leaves, he will put his brother in a difficult position. Though his resolve remains unshaken, Ivar puts a hand on his brother's shoulder, and when he speaks again, it's in a softer voice. "Listen, brother, just tell them I cancelled because I wasn't feeling well, okay?"

 Technically speaking, it's not even a lie. Today has been what his beloved mother would have called a 'bad leg day'. The pain coursing through his lower limbs worse and the muscles stiffer than usual, his right leg barely moving due to its swollen joints, he had taken a double dose of painkillers earlier, regrettably with little to no effect.

 "Well, brother," Looking out of the window, Hvitserk grimaces, an uneasy grin on the corner of his lips, "I'm afraid it's too late." 

 As if on cue, the door busts open and a girly chuckle can be heard. Ivar clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the handle of his crutch. As you and Thora take off your coats and shoes in the doorway, Hvitserk mutters, his mouth on his brother's ear, "Behave Ivar, please. For my sake." 

 Ivar snorts, exhaling deeply. "I'll try." He closes his eyes and, shaking his head, he mumbles, fighting a lump in his throat. "It's… It's not that easy. Fuck Hvitserk, you don't even know…I wish I wasn’t so angry all the time. I… I might have been happy." His voice, barely a whisper at this point, cracks at the end, and he hates himself for that.  

 Astounded, Hvitserk isn't even sure he heard right. There's no time left to ask Ivar to repeat himself though, so he somewhat haphazardly decides to comfort him, nevertheless. "You'll get there, brother." He eventually breathes, still stunned by his brother's unexpected admission.

  "We're coming!!" Unaware of the tension in the room, Thora shouts enthusiastically before crossing it in two long strides. All smiles, she joins the brothers, winking at her lover and squeezing his hand, and gives Ivar a peck on the cheek followed by a wholehearted hug. She then steps away, gesturing toward you as Hvitserk wraps his arm around her shoulders. "Ivar, this is Y/N."

 Reluctantly, Ivar looks in your direction and the moment he sets his eyes on you, his breath catches in his throat and he knows he's screwed. Already smitten. Gods, you're glowing and insanely beautiful. He barely hears Thora's next words. "And Y/N, this is Ivar, Hvitserk's little brother."

 A beaming smile on your face, you wave at him before taking two shy steps forward. "Hello, Ivar." Even your voice is wonderful, sweet, and silky, and he can't help but smile back at you, annoyed with himself for being so weak. 

 Even if he can see the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him, even if your smile is devastating, he knows better. 

 It won't last. It can't.

 For now, standing tall in his brother's living room, he's aware you surely find him attractive. With no false modesty, Ivar knows about his good looks, his huge blue eyes his greatest asset. Of course, you must have noticed the crutch, but the crutch per se is barely a turn-off. You can't see his titanium leg braces, which he stubbornly wears under his pants, even if they often bruise the thin and delicate skin of his calves. You can't see his crippling pain, his struggles. You can't see his distorted bones and his hideous legs. You can't see how disabled, how crippled he really is. But he knows that as soon as he takes a step, you'll get a small glimpse, and then the sparkle will leave your eyes, replaced at best by polite indifference, at worst by pity and disgust. 

 Yet, there's nowhere to hide from the inevitable. So, he decisively closes the gap between you and him, leaning heavily on his crutch, dragging his useless right leg behind him, and eventually standing right in front of you, he extends his hand. "Nice to meet you." His gaze never leaves your face, Ivar awaiting for you to avert your eyes, but you surprisingly don't. And as you reach out and offer him a firm handshake, your smile never falters, the sparkle still dancing in your eyes. 

 *** One year later ***

 You stir and turn toward him, your hand searching and finding his chest, and then lay your head on his shoulder. Groggy with sleep, you just mumble his name, eyes still closed, before letting out a content sigh and Ivar can't help but smile; you're so adorable.  

 Wrapping his arm around your waist, he draws you closer, running his fingers along your back and pressing his lips to your head. Rewarded by kisses in the crook of his neck, his free hand settles on your hip, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. "Hi," he greets you and buries his nose in your hair, deeply inhaling your scent.

 "Hi." You eventually mumble with a raspy voice, now peppering light kisses all over his broad torso. "What were you doing, my love?" Your eyes flutter open and, propping yourself up on your elbow, your other hand flat on his chest, you offer him a warm smile. There's so much love in your eyes, it takes his breath away. 

 "I was remembering." Ivar smiles fondly at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Do you know what day it is?" He asks, gently kissing your knuckles one after the other. 

 "How could I have forgotten?" You scoot even closer, your breast against his chest, your mouth barely an inch from his. "Today is the anniversary of the day we met, my love. That's what you were thinking about?"

 Ivar nods before laying you down on the bed tenderly. He then sits up, running his hands through his hair. "I remember as though it were yesterday, you know? I still can't believe you didn't run away." Sitting behind him, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, trapping him in your embrace, in your love. "You stayed…", his voice trembles as he gestures to his legs, hidden under the sheets, "… you stayed in spite of… of them…" He swallows loudly and your heart aches.

 Resting your head on his left shoulder, you shake your head. "No, my love, I didn’t stay in spite of your legs, but because of them." 

 Ivar is looking downward but as soon as the words escape your lips, he snaps his head to the side, a frown flitting across his face, and gives you a confused and slightly upset look. "What do you… What do you mean?" He stammers, suddenly tense.

 Shifting in the bed, you carefully straddle him, tilting his chin with a curled finger and forcing him to meet your gaze. "Don't get me wrong, Ivar. I'm not especially attracted to your legs. It's not some kind of weird fetish. I stayed because of what is in here." You put your finger on his forehead, and then over his heart. "And here. But your legs made you who you are. And you're different. A good kind of different. You don't think like other men. That's what I love the most about you. You're unpredictable; you always surprise me. You wouldn't have been who you are without your legs." A gentle hand sliding under the sheets, your fingers graze his scarred skin. "With two working legs, who knows what you would have been. You probably would have been a presumptuous womanizer like Bjorn. Or you might have been as boring as Ubbe; as careless as Hvitserk; as annoying as Sigurd. You are who you are, infuriating, smart, and stubborn, and, I must say, breathtakingly handsome, and I love you exactly the way you are." 

 Ivar just looks at you for a long time, a small smile playing on his lips. Raising his right hand, he cups your face. "Never stop telling me you love me, Y/N. Please..." You never saw him so willingly vulnerable before, and it breaks your heart – you never want him to doubt himself – as much as it fills you with joy – he trusts you enough to share his insecurities with you. 

 You answer him without missing a beat. "I won't. I love you more than my own life. I love you bigger than the sky and its stars, I love you to the moon and back. I love you like I never thought I could. Loving you is a blessing, a precious gift, the meaning of my life. I love you and only you, Ivar Lothbrok."

 Blinking a few times, Ivar heaves a shuddering breath. Tears come to his bright blue eyes and the expression on his face is unreadable; fragile and strong all at once. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it. Staring into space, he seems lost.

 Stroking his cheek, you bring him back to the here and now, back to you, kissing his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, before returning briefly to his mouth. "What is it, Ivar?"

 Your lover shrugs, "Nothing, really," and pulls you closer, his hands on your back, his breath on your face, his manly scent enticing you. "Or more accurately…", he whispers in your ear, "… Nothing, yet everything." 

 Not understanding what he's getting at, you keep quiet, just staring at him, confusion obvious in your eyes. He then offers you a mind-blowing smile, and your heart nearly jumps out through your mouth at his next words. 

 "I may be happy. Actually, I think I am."

 🛡⚔️🛡

@honestsycrets​ @lisinfleur​ @waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @gearhead66​ @inforapound​ @readsalot73​ @milkkygirls​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @shannygoatgruff​ @zuxiezendler​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @hecohansen31​ @lonewolf471​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @fuckindiva​ @tgrrose​ @didiintheblog​ @peachyboneless​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @ethereallysimple​ @destynelseclipsa​ @coco2315​ @mlchael-guerin​ @pieces-by-me​

[salsflore]

I hope you don't mind me sharing all this but if you do, please feel free to ignore this!

I just wanted to thank you for being honest that you don't feel comfortable sharing the characters you like. I feel the same way about characters I like but I've never been comfortable with saying it. I always kept quiet about it because I was afraid of hurting others or... I don't know. Of course I tried to avoid it but whenever I had to interact with someone I had to share with, it was kind of uncomfortable for me. You've given me a bit of confidence and pushed me a little more towards being able to say that I'm uncomfortable with it so again, thank you and I hope you have a great day ahead of you <33

WOWOWOW !! i hadn’t expected such a small action of mine to have that kind of impact, really – but i’m glad it seems to be a good one. it’s a shame you’re not completely comfortable with revealing these kinds of things though :( you deserve to be comfortable, this is your space on the internet and yours to control!

more under cut bc idw to take up much space

i do get it though, i was the same for a bit. being all silly ‘cuz of things like “what if my friends dislike me or find me selfish ?!” and “isn’t it weird of me if they’re fictional anyways?” but you know, i realized: i don’t owe anyone anything, i shouldn’t make myself uncomfortable for the sake of preserving the happiness of some internet mutual i will have forgotten in like 3 months. besides, i think people don’t care as much as i initially assumed.

my life is silly enough as it is, i thought it’d ( and this sounds dumb as FUCK ) be a small favor for myself — if i just did what makes it a bit easier to get through ( like setting these boundaries on the deranged internet :3 it’s a small thing but it makes things all the more fun! )

if they get upset over a polite message like “i’m not all that comfortable with x, sorry!” then that’s their problem and i’d rather die than be forever uncomfortable on my space of the internet. umm sadly i have gotten messages from friends ( actual friends, Not mutuals i don’t interact with ) being like “errr... mika that’s weird of you...” and that was embarrassing lol. then i realized: r they really friends i wanna keep around anyways!? i’m not hurting anyone, no?

just don’t hurt anyone or be spiteful and mean, and you’re completely valid! there’s a few other factors umm it’s not as easy as it may seem but i hope u get to voice it one day ☆ its inevitable and i guess it happens but you deserve to have fun and not have to deal with even an ounce of uncomfortableness!!

[fayeimara]

Meant To Be Series || One For Every Billion

Episode 4. If You're A Masochist

Putting your phone away after posting your latest update, you look around one more time for either of your cousins. The oldest, Ren, had left you with his brother Shin, strictly telling him not to leave you alone before he met back up with you both. But then you convinced Shin to call the car and drop off the bags you'd overloaded him with, agreeing to meet back here this cute café. It had been pretty easy to convince him, seeing as how you could barely make him out over the bags and boxes of items you'd bought for your friends and family back home. It was fair play, after all, you'd brought just as many gifts with you for your cousins here when you'd arrived.

Smiling as you tip the cup of coffee up to your lips, you consider if you've harassed him enough for the day or if you should top it off by ordering him something he'll hate just to see that distressed look on his face. He deserves it for the prank he pulled on you a few days ago, when they picked you up from the station, literally scaring you half silly when he snuck up from behind you, grabbed you, and started to run. You were pretty worried because not a single person in the busy terminal had tried to stop him even though you were clearly (momentarily) terrified and not aware of who had 'kidnapped' you until he'd finally put you down. You guess you should have expected this with him though, given you both have always messed around with each other, pulling fun pranks and stupid stunts, since the two of you were kids, but you'd gotten completely complacent since you'd last seen these oh so lovely cousins of yours.

If there was any doubt on whether you had any payback planned for Ren, well, he was the one who'd grabbed not only your bags but also several pictures of your embarrassing slip in composure, i.e. your briefly terrified face, and shared it with the world. So yeah, you were sure he was sleeping with an eye open for the time being, which is why you would call on your considerable patience before hitting him subtly and satisfyingly when he least expected it.

With that in mind, you head back to the counter to place another order and then ask if there are any specialty dessert shops in the area. Happy to hear of one pretty close, you're sure you'll be able to quickly head over and back before Shin returns.

The shop is as incredible as promised because it only takes them about ten minutes to prepare your custom order of mochi with a spicy twist. Trying one out, you can't help but enjoy the sweet flavour and texture even if you're disappointed that it doesn't seem to have the effect you were hoping for, until you feel the heat slowly build the more you chew. Oh. Oh my. Oh my g- Mouth burning, you quickly gulp at the coffee still in your hand to try and relieve the pain. Okay so.. it's perfect! Cue evil laugh.

You thank the brilliant artisans, because that's what they are, and promise to leave a review on your way out. It's not until you're walking by an alley (how typical, right?) between shops on your way back to the cat café, that you're pulled from your thoughts of not-so-sweet revenge.

"Give it up, kid." It's nothing alarming at first. Not until you hear the next cry.

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

Um. What?

You've stopped even before you turn your head to look in at a couple older guys surrounding a little kid. Seriously, what's with the cliché? You honestly thought this only happened in anime but you guess dummies always prove people wrong.

Debating who you should call, because you're not going to assume adding yourself to the equation alone is going to be any help, you quickly look around only to realize that the only people passing by near or across the street either don't seem to care, or aren't the kind of people you'd feel comfortable asking for any assistance from. People can call you out on stereotyping but really, where's the kind but strong elderly gentleman or tough, no nonsense, do-gooder woman when you need one??

"Hey!" The tears in the kid's voice draw you back, with your head whipping around to witness one of the bullies reach out to grab his collar. Quick kid, he manages to dodge even if barely but he's about to be blindsided by one of the other guys.

You don't even have time to sigh at your stupidity as you run up between them as fast as you can, slapping the second guy's hand away from where it was reaching for the kid's arm.

With that loud sound and dramatic entrance, all eyes are now on you, but the element of surprise does provide enough time for you to pull the boy behind you and back the two of you up a bit so you're both not completely surrounded.

Okay, this kid barely reaches over your hip, he can't be older than about 6 or 7 maybe, what's he doing here alone?

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The first guy that had tried to grab the kid's collar studies you. You want to say his voice is annoying or that he's an ugly creep but he's just an average guy of about a few years older than you. The only distinct feature are his glasses and that's probably because you don't typically think of wannabe thugs in glasses. Again, so sue you for you conventional stereotypes, but you're in a kind of delicate situation to be worried about thinking inside the box.

"Why don't you tell me," You shoot back, pretty upset about this pathetic tableau, "since it looks like three guys old enough to know better than to bully little kids."

The third guy hasn't done much until now but he laughs at your statement and, okay, at least his laugh is kind of annoying, like a dumb donkey's braying. You hope he's trying to fake an evil laugh or something and that's not his real one? Seriously, it sounds forced and fake so you hope for his sake it really is or no one will trust him once they hear it if that's all he has to work with for the rest of his life. You're tempted to say that to his face, but you've also been told by your friends that your reckless impulses tend to escalate the situation when you need the opposite so you hold back.

Because you're outnumbered. With only a crying kid at your back, quite too literally.

"Oh no, we're not bullying him. He's my kid brother, you know? We were just messing with him since he was being a brat and grabbed the new games we just bought."

You hesitate, thinking it over. Did you make assumptions and jump in too fast? He didn't call out for help or say anything specific to indicate he didn't know these guys. You don't want to turn away to look him over, but he had been holding something clutched against his side.

You feel a little hand clench into the back of your dress and a couple tugs follow, so without turning away, you cast your gaze down and meet teary hazel eyes that are peering up with a little hope among the fear, "He's lying, oneesan, I don't know them."

"Ahh, stop lying and dragging the nice, pretty girl into this." Second guy speaks up, trying to reach around you to grab the kid, but you quickly shift the both of you back a bit more. You realize the wall is just behind you, if the kid's gasping sob means anything. You're out of space to maneuver.

So...you're in a tough spot, you've got your hands literally full and you're up against three guys that are definitely living up to your first impression of them. You don't really have time to think it over as 'glasses' loses patience and reaches for you directly, grabbing your arm that's holding the trick mochi and trying to pull you forward. "What's this? Maybe we should take it for the trouble you've added by interfering in a family issue."

"How about this instead?" And before you can pity the loss, you've thumbed off the lid to your delicious hot coffee that you guess won't get to finish drinking, and toss it in his face.

"Arhggh!" Wow, high pitched for a tough guy, but you really can't think about that right now. Goodbye, coffee, your sacrifice is appreciated.

"What the hell, you crazy b-"

"Don't bother, dumbass, it's probably not hot enough to permanently scar him at this point." True story, you like your coffee cooled down more than most.

They're staring at you like you're crazy but it's really just the recklessness you're known for. Although you should have held on to that reminder of your friends' warnings that ran through your head earlier because the situation has definitely been escalated if the mean, hateful looks that are appearing from behind their fake polite masks are anything to go by. They clearly weren't even trying that hard to pretend. While the second guy is supporting his friend who's flailing, 'Fake laugh' reaches for you, this time angled for the collar of your dress or even your neck, "You stupid bitch."

Oh okay. Well, I'm so sorry for my impertinence, god. This is payback for the mochi prank, isn't it? You actually roll your eyes upwards for a split second with that thought.

Then you prepare to drop the maybe-unlucky box for the coming fight but just before his hand reaches you, another suddenly shoots out and grabs it. Hard.

"Don't you know how to treat women, buddy?" Wow, now that's a nice voice.

Shifting your eyes to your left without turning your head, you catch sight of a handsome bedheaded guy about your age. You would probably be all heart eyes in any other situation- who are you kidding? This is literally the perfect situation.

"I don't think he does, but that's probably because he has zero experience with them." Yay, your mouth can run freely with your attitude now that you have some back up. Not that it stopped you earlier, though..

This new guy shifts his gaze to meet yours and looks pretty surprised at your smirky smile (yes you're calling it that). Why so surprised though? You guess you should have been crying or even praising this god for stepping in. Whatever, he's just a boy. Even if he is drool worthy.

He studies you and pauses briefly on the redness marking your wrist from where one of the guys had grabbed you and then his golden eyes flick down to the boy hidden behind you before focusing a steady stare back on the bullies, "I think you should leave before I really get pissed off."

He must be a magician because they vanish pretty fast after his low declaration, supporting their friend who's managed to wipe most of your precious coffee off of his slightly reddened face. Looks like, he'll live to be a dumbass another day. Could've told them that and avoided the escalation. Oh wait, you pretty much did, right?

The guy is turning back to you after watching them leave the alley and you reach for the little kid with the hand that once held your coffee. Feeling his little hand slip into yours, you start to walk the two of you towards the street while keeping your body angled so you don't completely turn your back on this new guy. You swear the amount of times you've had a situation like this turn into something unexpected is a little unnatural. "Wow. Well... Thank you, stranger, for your help."

He narrows those stunning eyes on you but you don't think he's angry, just a little confused for a moment, before he realizes you're equally wary of him. He moves out of the alley after you both, but thankfully not too closely, because you have to turn your back on him so you don't trip or walk into anyone once you reach the main street.

"It's Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsuro."

You silently startle around at the sound of his voice coming from a lot closer to you than expected but compose yourself quickly so as not to offend him by whirling around in alarm.

"Oh, uh.. nice to meet you." Okay, you both should be safe now. You turn back to face him and the kid is now glued to your side, tiny hands gripping your dress with both hands, one at your back and one at the front. At least it's not silk because that would leave quite the wrinkles. "Anyways... we have to get going now to find whoever lost this little guy."

His arm moves up, rubbing his hand in his hair at the back of his sheepishly tilted head. Probably can't get his hair any messier at this point. "That would be me."

"What?" You raise a disbelieving eyebrow. Always the unlikeliest odds with you and really, what are they anyways here in this situation? But it turns out he's not kidding and you're not misunderstanding.

"I'm the one who lost him. That's my little cousin you're trying to walk away with."

"Hey!" You protest his teasing implication, before looking down at the boy. The other guys tried this too, though.

So you delicately crouch down (aware you're in a dress and heeled ankle boots that could spell impending disaster if you lose your balance) to make sure you're at eye level with the kid. He's not crying anymore, but not looking happy or relieved either. Just staring back at you steadily, a little like the calm gaze of this other guy, actually, but let's not go with confirmation bias. Maybe he's just not an overly excitable kid to begin with.

"Do you know this guy?" You ask softly. He told the truth before, under the stress of a pretty scary situation, after all.

He looks over and up at the tall teen claiming to be his cousin before nodding. "Oh." You give the little boy a reassuring smile before leaning in to��whisper in his ear, "Can I ask your name?"

And when you turn your ear to him so he can whisper a reply, you hear, "Itsuki."

Giving him another sweet smile, you stand back up and he's glommed right back onto your side. You meet the bedhead's eyes with your own slightly narrowed but steady too, and settle on a serious expression with an eyebrow raised. He hasn't looked away from you even once but that's fair considering you might actually be trying to take away his little cousin... whom he's lost already once today, if we're all being honest.

"What's his name?"

He raises an eyebrow to match yours, stance indicating he's in no rush but expression definitely amused, "You mean Itsuki?"

"Yeah.. okay, then." You look back down at the boy who's reluctantly releasing you as Kuroo moves closer to you both, your smile back on my face. "It was really nice to meet you, Itsuki. Thank you for being so brave and strong back there. I couldn't have sent those bullies away without you!"

"Or me?" Kuroo asks but it's not really a question more like an amused statement sliding into remind you that he did save you both in the end. Isn't he a little too close for politeness?

"I suppose." Now you have tilt your head back to look at him again. Argh, why is it like a compulsion to just stare your life away when you look into those eyes? "Thank you, then.. Kuroo."

"Not that you needed my help." Ohh, he's smirking at you and it. is. something. "You looked like you were mostly holding your own before I stepped in."

You laugh, because he's really just being nice and you don't know what expression your face might make after seeing his smirk if you don't pick amusement, "Pretty sure it was painfully obvious who brought the most advantage on our side if it came to a fight... and it wasn't me."

"Oya? Our side, huh? And what's your criteria for assessing that advantage?"

And before you can stop yourself, his question has you looking him up and down like.. like you're checking him out. Cue your blush. Ugh. You pass it off and try to push through, "What? I'm not supposed to notice that you have the physical advantage over me?"

Yeah, you worded that deliberately and wouldn't change it for anything because it's so worth it to see the red lightly tint his own cheeks. Yeah, I see your thoughts went there.

"Anyways," You start to step backwards, "Really, thank you."

You turn away to walk over to the coffee shop just another door down.

"Wait," You look over to see both Itsuki and Kuroo catch up to you quickly, the latter now holding on to the former gently but firmly, "I should be thanking you. You did step in to help my cousin when not many others would."

"Oya?" You copy his cute phrase with a look at him from the corner of your eyes and a teasing smile of your own, "How do you know he didn't step in to help me?"

"Somehow I doubt that." The three of you come to a stop in front of the coffee shop and Kuroo's distracted for a second, "Wait, this is your stop?"

"Yeah, why?"

He chuckles, "Ours too. We'd just stopped in here ourselves when Itsuki wandered away." We?

"Oh, I was here a little earlier too, but I needed to grab.." You lift the box, ".. this, for someone. I left my order here though."

"You lose your coffee often or just an addict?"

"Haha. Neither. It's... a thing. You'd think I'm horrible if I explain."

"I doubt I'd ever think that at this point. Can I pay for your new order and you can tell me about it over your next cup? You know, as a thank you for putting yourself in a dangerous situation for my cousin." Why does he make that sound both grateful and like a stern admonishment at the same time?

"I covered it already and it wasn't really for me. But I really appreciate the offe-"

You're cut off by the door opening and Shin bursting through with a very exasperated look on his face. Whoops, guess you took too long. He immediately starts complaining, "Where have you been?! Imagine my worry when I arrive here and you're gone! You promised you'd wait here."

Another guy has walked out behind him but you ignore that because you see that Shin's holding the drink you got him, but that has your name on it, and can't help but point out both literally and dryly, "Clearly so worried, you picked up my order in the meantime?"

"Hey, there are two drinks so I figured one was mine! But they're both awful!" Of course he tried them both. His face turns into a sad pout, "Why would you order such sour drinks when you know I hate them! And I know you do too! So... do you really hate me for that little thing? You've been so mean today."

You chuckle because this is literally the perfect opportunity. Well, actually, Kuroo is still standing by politely with Itsuki, watching you both with interest, but that other guy has walked up to them and is now also standing there. Is he gaming out here? Never mind.

You give Kuroo an apologetic smile with a finger held up to indicate you'll be a moment and then turn back to offer the box you've been holding onto this whole time to your dear cousin. "I can't imagine why you'd feel that way, but I did get you this, too. You can't have it all though, it's also for Ren."

He reaches for the box when you pop it open and happily exclaims, "Mochi? Aw, I take it back, you're the best!" before proceeding to pop two in his mouth. Oh. Uh-oh.

Okay then, closing the box, you walk back over to Kuroo as Shin happily munches away behind you. "Sorry, yes, I appreciate the offer but as you can see, I have my hands full with-"

"Ahhh! OMG, my mouth is burning!!! What is this?" Is he crying? He's definitely chugging that 'horrible' drink. "I take it back that I took it back. You do hate me. And for what?! I'm sorry I tried to kidnap you, okay?! Ahhh! Make it stop-"

He keeps rambling, even while alternating between choking down the sour drink and pausing for quick panting breaths every now and then, as tears actually run down his face. Even the gamer boy is momentarily distracted watching. You can't help the satisfied smile that stretches across your face as you watch Shin dissolve into tortured agony from the corner of your eyes and finish your sentence "-a pretty troublesome commitment already."

Kuroo looks a little worried but definitely way more amused, "I thought that box was something really special, the way you held onto it the whole time."

"Yeah, even in exchange for my precious coffee-" You wipe away a pretend tear and swear he mutters 'so you are an addict' under his breath before you finish, "but it was��worth the revenge, wouldn't you say?"

"Well... He tried to kidnap you?"

"Ugh, don't ask. It was a stupid prank that I briefly fell for. But I think he won't try getting me back for a while. At least a week of peace."

"So.. don't mess with you, is what I'm hearing."

You laugh at his accurate interpretation, "Pretty much. Or do, if you're a masochist."

He looks slightly awed and a whole lot intrigued when he states, "At first I thought you were some incredible angel.. but you're pretty much more an incredible devil, aren't you?

"Incredible, either way? I'll take it." You smirk, thinking of the irony he'll probably never understand.

"How about my request for a name?"

"Isn't it Kuroo Tetsuro?"

"I'm asking for your name, Kitten." He's a little exasperated and just a smidge embarrassed that you made him spell it out. I mean, you like that he's all witty and smooth but... you really like a guy's direct side, too.

You do still smile and tease a little more, "Kitten could work, given the irony..." He gives you an unamused look, but you were continuing anyway, "But since you asked so nicely.. I'm Y/-"

"Oi!" Ren is standing across the street with the car, door open, "I've been looking for you. It's time to go."

"Oh," You look back at Kuroo who's still looking at Ren a split second longer before focusing back on you, "I'm sorry, I have to go!" You smile at him apologetically then face Itsuki, slightly crouched, to give him a bright smile, "Bye Itsuki! Take care and don't wander off again!"

You don't have time to say anymore than those goodbyes to the pair of cousins before your own is dragging you away, cursing you out and swearing he'll get you back. He's listing a lot of pretty creative ideas, silly boy, you'll just use them before he can.

You check both sides of the road as he's pulling you across since it doesn't look like he's going to but you both make it safely to Ren who just gives the two of you a droll look. "You guys definitely didn't listen to me."

He didn't even pose it as a question. You just shrug and give him a kiss on the cheek before sliding into the back of the sleek car, followed by Shin and then Ren, who calls out to let the driver know to take you all home. Maybe you glance out the tinted windows to steal one last look at Kuroo before the car starts to move away. Maybe you see that he's looking too, he's staring at the car but his mouth is moving and when it stops, the gamer boy says something back.

The last thing you see before the car pulls away completely and you can't see anymore is Itsuki pulling Kuroo back towards the café and he takes one last look your way before heading inside with his friend following.

You turn back around, not realizing you'd shifted your whole body. Ren is looking at you oddly so you just raise an eyebrow at him, but smile when Shin happily exclaims, "Hey Ren, we got you some treats too!"

Prev | Next

Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-Kuroo not only didn't get Y/n's name, but was pretty curious as to her close relationship with the two guys that we know as Shin and Ren

-If she had to measure, Y/n felt about the same level of attraction and connection with Kuroo as she did with Oikawa when she first bumped into him at the boba shop; he was interesting but still just a casual, fun encounter in the end

-Gamer boy was obviously Kenma, yeah?

-Is it funny for anyone else that Bokuto is liking or retweeting the posts about Y/n? Or is it just me because I clearly know too much?

-Itsuki is non-canon, if you weren't sure :(

A/N: I really like how this one turned out, I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I've been a Kuroo simp the longest but I dunno, it just... flowed. And I barely even chewed over the edits.

Btw, if you guys ever see first-person POV (my, me, I, us, we) or 'Faye', it's probably a good time to restate that this started out as a purely self-indulgent imagining, which is why I write most seamlessly as myself in the scenarios. I then change it over to 'Y/n' and reader perspective during multiple levels of edits so you all can hopefully enjoy the story/scenarios too, but it can (and likely will) still slip through sometimes. Just let me know, and I'll fix it, thank you :) <3

Taglist: @delusivist

[marvelousell]

The Agreement (Part 3.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: Here it is guys part 3.! I’m so glad you all like this series, and I’m so grateful for all the amazing comments and reactions you send me 🥰. I would still appreciate it if you reblog, leave a comment or send a feedback!❤️

My tag list is open for this series!

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol

Part 1. Part 2.

Masterlist

“Tom get that.”

“Tom your phone is ringing.”

“For fuck’s sake.”

The annoying beeping of the phone woke you from the deep slumber.

You were so jaded. The sharp pain in your muscles and in between your thighs made you yelp as you tried to sit yourself up.

Your eyes were burning, aching for more sleep.

“Are you deaf or what?” You said, finally opening your eyes.

However you were welcomed with an empty bed. The right side of the bed was cold, so it meant he went away a long time ago.

Stupid you.

“Well what did you thought Y/N? That he would stay in the morning, snuggle you up and make you breakfast?! Of course he would leave, that’s Tom after all.” You let out a loud sigh, crossing your arms, clearly annoyed that he didn’t at least tell you he was going home.

“A fucking message would be polite Holland.” You muttered to yourself.

Okay calm down. That’s how this thing works right? You wanted this, so we’re going to put the feelings aside.

“Okay the overthinking needs to stop, everything will be just fine.” You said, sliding back into your bed.

Hey it’s Saturday, nothing to do so why not?

Oh wait if it wasn’t Tom’s phone ringing it was yours.

Who is even already up at this time, and on weekend as well?

11:50 AM

Already noon? That explains a lot.

1 missed call from Anna

3 text messages from Anna

2 missed calls from Tom

3 text messages from Tom

So he did call after all. Lucky me.

Hey you up?

It’s almost noon Y/N you never sleep that long, call me when you wake up.

Are you going today? Do you want me to pick you up?

What the hell are you talking about Anna?

Did I make some plans and totally forgot about them? That would be embarrassing.

Morning love, I just wanted you to know I left early because the guys from the frat needed me. Didn’t want to wake you up, thought you need that rest after last night.

You still sleeping or? Did I dick you down that good?

Never mind. Harry is having a chill barbecue party tonight, so he told me to call you, Anna and Amelia are going too so they told me they would pick you up. Also take a bikini if you want to.

Dicked me down to good?! Idiot.

So the barbecue party is what they are talking about. Cool.

Will there be more cute girls? Probably.

And boys as well, so that means let’s have fun.

He isn’t the only one that can enjoy himself.

To Anna:

I’m going, pick me up around six.

Oh you better! Take that red cute bikini, some bird told me there will be some hot guys.

Typical Anna. But she ain’t wrong.

-

Stupid pain. I’m a mess, my room is a mess.

I need a break for sure, and a bath would definitely help because limping all day is a big no.

The scent of the eucalyptus oil filled the whole bathroom. The warm water mixed with it reduced the soreness and stiffness that was making you feel exhausted.

It was what you needed, enjoying the silence and some me time.

Until the phone rang again.

“Are you kidding me right now?” You groaned from the feeling of the chilly air coming in contact with your warm body as you tried to reach your phone.

Tom.

“Hello.” You answered, closing your eyes to relax as much as possible.

“Good morning to you too love. Didn’t wanna answer my calls eh?”

“I was sleeping Tom.”

“Yes, but you replied to Anna’s messages.”

“Well she needed to know if she will pick me up or not.”

“So you’re going?” He asked.

“Of course I’m going, wouldn’t miss that.”

“I kinda called you to say that I’m going to ask Sophie for that coffee, so God please help me and get her off my dick.” Tom continued, hoping that this will go as planned.

“Mmm great.” You moaned, the bath doing the job, making you feel ten times better.

“Are you touching yourself?” The voice on the other line spoke. You could practically hear him smirking.

“Excuse you?!” You screeched, not believing his words now.

Well there goes your relaxing time.

Thanks Tom.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. If I was you, I would do that too after the good sex last night, with me in your mind, rewinding the scenes that happened.” He laughed through the phone.

“Your ego is really bigger than your dick Holland.” You joked, but still telling the truth.

“Ouch sweetheart, should I let you finish what you started? We don’t want you to be that infuriated tonight.”

“For your information I’m having a bath. Trying to relax a bit.” You spit back.

“Ohh, so I did a good job after all?”

“Goodbye Thomas, see you tonight.”

“Sure sweetheart, see you.”

He really was a pain in the ass sometimes, but there was something that made you totally hooked.

You ended the call, standing up from the bath drying yourself up.

“Let’s find that bikini then.”

-

It was 5 PM now, the doorbell echoing through the small apartment.

“Just a minute!”

“Hello to you too gorgeous.” Anna’s singing voice lightened up your mood instantly.

The anxiety was present. Normally it would just be a stupid barbecue party. All good, nothing to worry about. Anna, Amelia, Tom and Harry would be your company, you would all enjoy the night, talking and drinking together.

But after everything you couldn’t suppress the nervousness that was making you almost puke.

“You look beautiful Y/N! So I believe that you put on the red thing right?” She smiled, winking at you.

“I did. Who knows maybe someone will love that old piece?” You joked, looking for your bag.

“Oh come on, I have someone for you to meet tonight, he is totally your type!” She began, “A great opportunity to set aside the crush for our famous lover.”

Anna was the only one who knew about the silly crush on Tom.

I mean how could she not? You, Tom and Anna were inseparable since you were little kids.

Harry was younger so he joined the group later.

Amelia was the last addition. You two met in college, clicking immediately. So you introduced her to others, and that’s how it began.

“Fair enough, I do need someone right?” You questioned, styling your hair.

“Yes! It has been a while since you have had a boyfriend, and sex.” She raised her eyebrows, sending you a cheeky smile.

Yes, it has been. Especially sex. Fifteen hours is extremely long. I agree with that Anna.

“Oh, wait you had company yesterday?” She asked, eyeing the two wine stained glasses that were on the kitchen counter.

Crap.

What am I supposed to say now?

“Uhm, n-no..both glasses are mine.” You said, hoping that she doesn’t suspect something.

“Both?” She asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, I was reading a book. My regular Friday night, and I was in the mood for some wine. I kinda put the first glass in my room, and when I went back to the living room I was already tipsy and I forgot where I put my glass, so I just took a new one.”

“Christ what a lame excuse Y/N.” You thought, feeling your cheeks getting hotter.

“Not going to lie, that sounds like you. You’re so confused when you get drunk.” She laughed, making you relaxed.

“Yeah, yeah…totally. Are we going now?” You said changing the theme, exhaling the air that got stuck in your throat a few seconds ago.

“Let’s go, you’re boy is waiting!”

Jesus give me strength for this night.

-

“Y/N! Anna!” Harry yelled, drawing the attention to us.

A chill barbecue party? This place is almost jam-packed.

“Well long time no see Harry.” You smiled, embracing him in a tight hug.

“Since Monday. I know you can’t go without me that long.”

“I guess I can’t.”

“You two can get a drink and take a seat or whatever you want. I still need to finish this food so I will find you after that, yes?” He asked.

“Don’t worry Holland Y/N will definitely be busy in a while.” Anna stated, laughing together with Harry.

“Oooh yes, forgot about that.”

“Why does everyone know something that I don’t?” You asked completely confused.

“Enjoy yourself Y/N! Why don’t you get us something to drink and I will try to find Amelia?”

“Sure, whatever.” You answered, still a bit suspicious because of their behaviour.

The place was starting to get full. The music that was playing in the house was loud enough for you to make your way to the kitchen as fast as you could.

You were looking around the house trying to find him. You couldn’t help yourself.

The kitchen was small but at least empty, and it had a view on the whole living room.

You put Anna’s drink on the counter, resting your back on it and looking at the sea of people, hoping you would catch at least a glimpse of Tom.

And you caught more than a glimpse for sure.

Tom and a familiar blonde attached to his hip.

Nothing unusual.

If only he wasn’t that dumb and blind, so he could see how much you like him and how a relationship isn’t a bad thing.

If only.

You are his best friend but you still didn’t know him.

Tom was a great guy. He had a good heart, but why didn’t he trust girls? Why is commitment such an issue for him?

Many questions were in your head right now and they were all unanswered.

Oh Tom, I definitely need to lose these feelings.

“He sure knows how to get a girl.” A male voice spoke behind you, making you turn instantly.

Wow.

You were greeted with a pair of deep blue eyes that were fixed on yours. His broad smile and perfect teeth were absolutely breathtaking. They could brighten up every girls day.

His figure was leaning on the fridge, drink in his hand. He adjusted his glasses, still looking at you.

“You mean Tom? Yeah, but only in his bed.” You joked, making him laugh.

“You’re not wrong.” He spoke.

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. Harrison.” He extended his hand, waiting for your name.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You took his hand in yours, the warm feeling sending chills through your body.

Jesus those irresistible blue eyes.

You were smiling like crazy, possibly looking like a fool.

“Beautiful name.” He spoke.

“Thank you, yours is not that bad either.” You smiled, unable to keep your eyes away from him.

Oh shit Anna’s drink.

Well she wouldn’t mind.

“Would you like to go outside maybe? A bit to crowded here.” He asked.

Is he really asking me to go with him somewhere?

Just be yourself Y/N.

“Sure.”

“After you.” He motioned you to go first, standing close behind you.

How incredible would it be if Tom saw you now.

However he was to busy facing the girl that will be his partner for the night. He was whispering in her ear, making the blonde giggle.

You couldn’t judge, you fell for his actions too.

This is just for fun. This is just sex. Nothing else.

Keep that in mind.

Someone out there is waiting for you.

“What do you say?” Harrison’s voice was ringing in your ears.

I zoned out again, why am I so embarrassing?

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you the music is just too much.” You turned your head, his face now close to yours.

“No worries. I asked if you would like to sit there.” He asked one more time, pointing to the small table in the garden.

You nodded.

There were still people around you, but his presence was making you more nervous than them.

You didn’t feel like this in a while, that’s a good start.

“So..you’re here with someone?” He began the small talk.

“Yes, with my friends. Couldn’t miss Harry’s ‘chill’ party.” You laughed, emphasising the word chill.

“Harry and his chill parties.” Harrison laughed, seeing where you’re coming from.

“You know him?” He added.

“Harry? We’re best friends since forever.”

“Really? How did I never met such a beautiful friend of his?”

You were blushing like a teen girl on her first date.

Who wouldn’t? Look at him, he was not just handsome but kind and sweet as well.

“I’m not someone who would immediately catch a boy’s attention, but thank you.” You smiled, glancing at him lowering your eyes on your drink.

“You sure caught mine.” His sweet voice spoke back.

The damn weird feeling in my stomach. Is he really making me feel these things already?

“Oh stop it you’re making me blush.” You covered your face, grinning widely.

“I think that you’re absolutely adorable when you blush if I may add.” He laughed.

Harrison was smitten.

He just wanted to get himself a drink and go find Harry.

However his plans were interrupted by a gorgeous girl in a pastel dress.

She was already lost in her thoughts when he stepped inside.

Harrison still got a perfect view of her face that was staring at the crowd forming inside the house. He saw her looking at his best friend, her facial expression turning into a disgusting one after she saw Tom fondling the girl’s bare arm.

“First girl that doesn’t find his flirting intriguing.” He thought.

He needed to talk to you. You were something else, he didn’t want to lose the chance.

Thank God he found the courage to say something, because now he wouldn’t be here sitting with you. Looking at the most engaging smile ever.

“Thank you.” You spoke, trying to calm yourself.

“So.. You and Tom?” He smirked rising his eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

Oh no he saw you staring.

Harrison was just curious. He saw the difference between you and other girls from college, but he still asked that.

“Me and him? God no! I’m his best friend.” You replied, putting on a disgusting face.

“Hey I don’t judge, just asking.” He put his hands up in in defence.

“But honestly, you don’t seem like that kind of girl.”

Now you were the one waiting for an answer.

“What I wanted to say is that you seem very bright. That the lame flirting attempts aren’t your weakness and that you’re not an attention seeker. You’re a girl who knows what she deserves. Gosh that sounded better in my head I’m sorry.” He chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I just think that you’re pretty cute, not like the other girls here.”

This guy.

You couldn’t get enough of him. Hopefully he will be around here much more.

“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you Harrison, it turned out really nice.”

“Just the truth beautiful.” He smiled at you.

“Well, well, look what we have here.”

-

Tag List

@averyfosterthoughts

@i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

@timey-wimey-lovi

@rachaeldonnaspiteri1

@peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies

@sweetestscape

@quacksonhq

@stuckyyrogers

@kaylinfayezink

@tomhollandthing

@stardustom

@hannahholland1811

@yoinkyourheart

@magicwithaknife

@thurstyforholland

@quaksonhehe

@fanficscuziranout

[aueua]

Marona’s Fantastic Tale (2019) AU where the dog lives and others are happier. Idea bounced with @mushrium a few weeks back; details under cut.

Yes, I am aware that hardly anyone knows of this movie (but maybe more’ll know it now due to the streamer albeit even then this is unlikely to be a proper fandom, maybe, maybe not). Doesn’t matter. This now exists for archiving purposes.

First and foremost: Spoilers abound, don’t seek further if you don’t want them by any means - with that said, also good luck if you aren’t aware of what the movie is but I’ll do my best to give some context as necessary. (Post-edit: No clarification. Very sorry.)

See also: The movie is not for everyone but it can be appreciated artistically for its fluidity and variety of styles. There is also a lot of symbolism and the dog narrator is impeccable. I love Nine. I love her, I do.

Okay! Here we go.

Recall the [Lost Dog Sign] that is posted some scenes after Nine (protagonist, dog) left Manole (red and yellow, acrobat entertainer) and she’s picked up by Istvan beloved (Tumblr nose, big guy). Istvan may be driving and potentially distracted; however, he absolutely sees that sign. And it doesn’t quite click, not yet. He’s worried about his mother, his wife, himself, this dog. Dog... Dog! This doesn’t register until he’s arrived at his ill mother’s home. That dog on the wanted sign looks eerily like the one he just picked up... and come to think of it, it did seem well cared for...

So he fudges around, figures out what the number is.

An answer. And with one thing leading to another, Istvan figured that this guy is sincere: He loves this dog much like he does. (But he believed that Manole loved her more, deserved her more, and it isn’t likely he can bring her quite anywhere...) So. They meet up. Guy really is nice, but Istvan can see it - the acrobat’s nerves are a bit shot after all that worrying and desperation to find this dog again. Ana (dog), was it? (There was an inkling that he should call her Sara but Ana is also quite the nice name. It’s fine. And thank goodness, that he did not name her, since goodbyes would be worse.)

They part, and that is that. Istvan checked on his mother, returned to his choking snake of a wife (yellow skin ostritch, black fluff); Manole reobtained his beloved boy (girl, he knows), managed to get a contract that allowed him to work with her in the La Circe (???) troupe thingamabob since it was either them or nothing. Both of these two keep in touch with each other as Istvan is worried and, admittedly, attached to the dog after those moments in the dumps viva la his loneliness. Plus Manole’s a fun personality. He’s considered going to see one of his acts, once, but his wife’s a bit overbearing.

A bit overbearing, as in a time skip occurs and he still had yet to leave her toxic self, nor could he bear to see his mother but still stuck it through.

Come to think of it though. Manole is obviously happy, and so is the dog. He can’t recall a moment with his wife recently where he felt... happy, sincerely. Perhaps in the past, when he’d strum his guitar and skate around - free and without the exhaustion of judgment and micromanagement? He deserved better. There’s just no right timing, though, as he can’t find the motivation to work himself up and tell his wife they need a divorce for both of their own sakes.

And then his wife gave him the ultimatum: Her, or that stupid acrobat with the dog and his mother.

Well, well. Fine. He doesn’t need to pack much, and he doesn’t need to say anything. He’s rearing to go. The wife? Cocky. All until she realized quite quickly that he was serious, dead serious, and she begged and pleaded and smothered herself all over him trying to get him to obey her every whim just like before. That it was a joke, an act, a test to see where he would be really happy but she needed him and who else would indulge her needs and fluff up her ego with the beefcake of a man?

Too bad! He’s gone, but he’s also an incredible mess and it was incredibly short-notice and maybe he should’ve thought things out better, but he’s free. He’s never felt so relieved. It’s quite cold, dark, and alone, but everything seems so much more colorful and bright now but also he really should find a place to say and strangely, his immediate thought is to call up Manole -- but he’s asleep, isn’t he? Or working? He shouldn’t bother him, he should go to his mother. But...

He called. Decided that if he did not get an answer, he would let him know another time (never, really). And nobody picked up. So as he’s ready to drive out, he gets a call: It’s Manole. He picked up, and he heard the groggy-confused voice of an acrobat ringing out with the delightful barks of Ana in the background to give him the image that oh, she must have woken him up, and oh, he’s smiling. They chat for the night. As in. They meet up again, and the two take a quiet stroll out with Ana, and Istvan gets to vent, tell his story. (His little audience is quite expressive too, he noted. Loose red strings of disbelief and high-pitched barking. Dramatic flailing of arms, a growl.)

In the end, they have to rest. Manole and Ana depart (with Manole insisting that they continue their little interactions and that Istvan finally comes to one of his showings, he swore he’d make it worthwhile - Ana agreeing in her little pip), and Istvan is home. A home of memories. Bad, good, but a place that made him nevertheless and he supposed... he should probably go to that therapist Manole recommended. He gave his word that she was fine; she had helped him back then, too, when things were dire.

Solange was her name. And oh, she was understanding - the best, at least for his circumstances. He revealed his feelings, and she helped him through most of it - enough that he was in better shape than before. Enough that he can lift his head high even with his impressive stature. But - he did ask, out of polite curiosity. What was it that made her want to be a therapist?

And it was an easy answer, the way she’d told it. A deadbeat father, a single mother with a cat and her father - her own grandfather. She had been... rebellious, in a sense, and she was a menace to her family. They had financial issues, relationship issues, the works. It was only until they’d discovered the (grand)father dead that things really started to change. Viva la insurance money, they were able to handle most of the debt and loans. She felt more inclined to... help, seeing as how badly-shapen her mother was, mourning and all. And during that - she realized it was something she wanted to pursue wholeheartedly.

Overall, they’re happy. Istvan and Manole eventually get together (after a long amount of time, only when Istvan was ready to open himself up again - easier, when he’d started acting as accompaniment as (a tech) crew and occasional musical act in the streets and they realized how well they clicked). Ana thrives (with a few other secret nicknames that the others gave to her; well. She doesn’t mind.) Solange occasionally helped out in using her artistic skills with some of the advertisements.

They’re all comfortable. They’re living.

That is all.

 SUMMARY:

・[Overall] The canon diverges with Istvan actually noticing and recognizing the missing dog poster Manole put up. Manole and Ana are reunited. Istvan eventually divorces his wife and gets therapy from Solange, and Istvan is later friends (or more than that, ah-heem) with Manole.

・[Manole] Acrobat for that dreamy circus, but with a dog.

・[Ana] Dog! Beloved! Living! Happy! SO Happy. Maybe gets to meet her old litter of siblings again.

・[Istvan] No more toxic wife that tries to control and restrain him with false affections and silly desires built on creating a dumb image! Musical fun time! Also lifts and flexes.

・[Solange] On good terms with mother now! Grandpa is deader than dead but it’s for the better, promise. Insurance money and her mother made her realize she’d wanted to be a therapist. Occasionally does art for Manole’s circus thing.

No I did not proofread this. I do not care. I have self love, and this is, in fact, indulgent.

[commander-orca]

Wait for me  —  children of the whales fanfiction

Tags: Rochalizo x Suoh, Suoh x Rochalizo, Parrot Soul, Princeshipping, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, jealousy, repressed desires, forbidden relationship, healthy dynamics, look at them they love each other so much, mention of friends to lovers, lovers to established

Walking away from the plight of the heavy sun to go through the dark, pleasantly quiet corridor felt, as Suoh went down the plainly carved stone stairs, much like a tranquil descent to a new, underground world. A world which for a few moments did not belong to the Mud Whale and made who he was slip his mind, freed of roles and of everything. Almost an indistinguishable relief alongside the long passageway of adjacent dwellings, the door to their little house had been left ajar. Only this door invoked in him feelings of calmness; which was new, as it had not always been the case with his coming home late at night, his muscles sore, head still full of the daily tasks and no joyous inconvenience to come and stop those thoughts from running. He was glad that had come to change. No, he thought to himself, eyes catching the loveliest sight of the day, he felt beyond grateful. Peeking through the small gap, he could see the small silhouette of a boy who sat on the one-sized bed, his back turned. He lay there quietly, slightly bent forwar and so focused, Suoh imagined fondly he was reading.

His hair hung forward loose, nonchalantly and his tight black long-sleeved shirt had lifted up to his backbone, baring his lumbars. This was also hard to spot but he could make out, in the dim bistre light of the bedroom which reflected the muffled clarity escaping the window through the thin brown curtains, the streak of sand which stuck to the upper half of his high baggy pants. Suoh kept watching for a little while more, almost upset that he would have to disturb this scene of utter domestical delight. He wanted to stay forever and watch him just be, breathing unawarely and enjoying his peace, his defensive walls low and no one to impress nor to fight against. He couldn’t figure exactly what it was about this monotonous sight which was so touching and made his heart throb a little in his chest, but it was at times like these where he acknowledged his luck the most and contemplated how the past hardships and terrors had in the end been worth paying the price. Trailing eyes a last time on Rochalizo’s precious back, he announced himself by pushing the door open and uttering a single:

“Hello!”

Before he even talked, Rochalizo turned around swiftly, mildly panicked. It seemed Suoh had assumed wrong as a pen dropped from his hand and he rushed to cover a piece of paper.

“You- You’re back already!”, he blurted out in embarrassement, cheeks red.

Suoh, who had already moved to the entrance’s cupboard and was hanging his apron on a hanger, stopped in track, returning a curious look.

“Were you busy...? Do you want me to come back later?”

“No no, I wasn’t, I wasn’t”, protested the other, a bit awkwardly as he shoved the piece of paper and pen in his large pants’ pockets.

Rochalizo looped around on the bed until he was facing him. Suoh noticed he had little ink spots on his face, just under the two loveable moles.

“Are you dumb?”, said the other, still a bit bewildered, “This is your house, I can’t throw you out. Nonsense, Suoh!”

The young chief chuckled, removing his coat on hanging it on another hanger. The door craked as he closed it and creaked again as he locked it, so that it wouldn’t reopen on itself.

“I know! I just think it’s nice to enjoy some intimacy alone. From time to time, even our own spaces don’t feel like the ideal place and there are too few in my opinion to only allow people to be themselves in those same spaces”.

Rochalizo didn’t reply immediately, reflecting on the words. Then, he sighed, shrugging as he lay back on the bed headboard. Cracking a match, he lit up a few candles.

“You don’t have to give a deep meaning to everything, y’know. Anyway, how was it? We didn’t meet at all today”.

Smiling all the while, Suoh arranged the flower pots he had brought back from the infirmary, kneeled to pick up the water can stocked in the corner of the room and proceeded to water the plants. The heat had been barely tolerable for humans, as it had been for them; the plants drank the entirety of the container until their thirst reached satietion. He was finding it hard to reply; the words were snarling in his mind and his limp mouth hardly followed.

“I am exhausted”, Suoh admitted, gratting his fingers on the desk, his back facing Rochalizo. 

He felt often uneasy avowing to his tiredness. His efforts didn’t have much of an impact and he systematically came back with the feeling he could have done more.

“What about you? I thought you were helping with the festivities tonight?”

“Yes, I was supposed to, however...”

His face took on another few shades of red and he struggled a moment to find his words, in vain, which led him to renounce.

“Although you say you are exhausted, you’re still up on your feet”, bluntly remarked Rochalizo, but he added then, in a softer tone, patting the empty space on the bed besides him, “Come here. Let me take care of you”.

The moment these words were uttered, the young chief felt a wave of relief and relaxation travel through his body. He turned around and smiled. He didn’t need much to wind down and ease his hurting body and mind. And despite his personal motto which consisted of enjoying the present moment as much as possible, he had found himself awaiting for this moment all day. Carefully settling on the bed, Suoh watched as he started putting weight on the mattress and caused Rochalizo to slip a little closer to him. Comfortably sat, he peered at the short distance between them. 

The thought of placing his head on his shoulder crossed his mind, and as they had often done so these days, it wasn’t much of a bold thing anymore. The candlelights flickered, illuminating the nearest objects in a halo and left all other places in the almost darkness. Being still in the dark made Suoh feel like he wanted to be closer and so, he was about to act on his wish, but Rochalizo was faster. He suddenly felt this warm and most welcomed load on his shoulder. It wasn’t him uniquely pressing his cheek, it was him falling back with his cheek and jawline and upper neck and with such good faith, trusting Suoh enough to bear the heaviness. 

Suoh’s heart jumped happily and kept pounding fast nonetheless a long while afterwards. In this position, he earned a closeup of the Prince’s thick blond and ginger eyelashes which tremulated faintly as he breathed. Suoh’s head fell on top of Rochalizo’s, his nose buried in the thin mass of hair. His scalp felt warm and soft and seemed like an inevitable invitation to sound sleep. Grasping gently Rochalizo’s opposite hand in his, he brought it about a few inches down his own opposite shoulder, making the Prince turn from the side until the top of his chest was touching half of his. Rochalizo warpped his arms around him tightly and emitted a small sound. In this atmosphere, the troubles of the day melted away. It was only them, entangled into each other’s embrace and breathing the soft scent of their hairs.

These displays of affection were in no way inherently romantic, as they were merely relying on each other to regain the lost energy throughtout the day. But somehow, Suoh wished that they were and were that only. Romantic. Rochalizo’s friendship was eternally precious to him and in no way he desired risking altering it in any fashion. He would not bear to lose it for the sake of love and attraction. But that was straying far from the point, for there was little need to worry about this; that love was reciprocated.

He had known from the day they were, just them two, studying maps in the deserted meeting room, which ambiance that night, felt close to the one they were in right now; candles on desks, tables and on the floor surrounding them, an almost complete obscurity. But what made tonight different was the special guest which had added on this special night: wine. A full jar of wine disposed between the two as they faced each other. Suoh’s first time drinking it. The first sips had tasted bitter and too rich, but despite being in good company, the matters at hand could get tiresome as well as convoluted and so, he had drank more each passing minute, accompanying the Prince in the premices of drunken eloquence and joy. Spread out on the pavement, the space between them had grown thinr and thiner, until even the wine jar had been tossed aside and they were chatting about everything but maps, in drunken silliness.

Those were the days Suoh remembered thinking highly of the Prince, admitting easily that he was a really pretty person and whose odd temper quick to anger, his straightforward words and kindness he hid behind pretend-mercy were traits he actually appreciated or found amusing. And amusing Rochalizo was too, which had led them to get closer, regardless of their numerous interactions due to both their political positions. Because they simply liked being around each other and because Suoh lacked opportunities to laugh and that meant he had felt good in his presence.

And so, from then, everything had speeded up. The wine, the jokes and how they leaned in into each other to laugh, the playful teasings, the brave compliments which made you feel warm in your body and that physical promiscuity which had you gazing at their lips or noticing eyes looking a little too low on your face, everything had guided to the foreseeable unfolding of them kissing. The important percentage of alcohol they were under had prevented things from going any further and had certainly collapsed at some point since it was how they had woken up. 

But Suoh had had to tell the cruel truth; he couldn’t be Rochalizo’s lover. The law which conducted the leader of the Mud Whale’s personal life were strict. The dire incidents which had occured in the distant past had been caused by a few determined factors: a lack of monitoring of the chief’s powers and left unchecked, their strong temper and arrogance, bonds too close with their family and finally, the disturbance of a lover who had come between the leader and its responsabilities.

The kiss they had shared had not meant nothing and Suoh had been made well aware of that as he had looked into Rochalizo’s eyes, accidentally - according to the Prince - filled with tears. The view had brought Suoh close to crying too. This, as he had realised had been the first time he had wished something deeply for himself and the more he had looked, the more he had felt his previous convictions on the verge of crumbling down. He had never really questioned the laws, thinking the perennity of their people came first. Each reconsidering of the laws hurt. For a moment, he had forgotten who he was and to whom his loyalty went. His desire to go against the rules had clashed so hard with his desire to protect his people his mind hurt as if both feelings fought with nails and teeth. 

Rochalizo’s pride hadn’t allowed him to be shedding tears, therefore anger had taken over. He had shouted at Suoh, bared his fists at him, insulted him. In those terrible words, he had said Suoh had been playing him and ultimately had fulfilled his desire to mock and ridicule him, along with the rest of that cursed ship. Suoh had seen through his anger; it was obvious, they were both in pain and striving to find a way to cope with the sadness. They had calmed down and apologised but the emptiness remained. Eventually, Suoh had told him:

“We are not a cursed boat. We are only wary of the mistakes of our kin. But since the Empire’s attacks, our rules have softened or have changed. A new era has come for the Mud Whale and when we’ll settle in new lands, I will pass the title of leader to Ohni. I don’t think I’ll be suited anymore”.

“I thought you weren’t serious”, had replied Rochalizo, afraid to hope.

Suoh hadn’t answered that question but the look in his eyes was so solemn, the Prince understood it was futile to mistrust those words. He had shaken and Suoh had reached out to take both his hands in his.

“Wait for me”, he had said.

And that had been the last of their talk.

Had they not been on the brink of finding a new home, lands which would reshape the whole system they had adhered to until now, the young leader would have yielded to despair. However, they were moving at a fast space, navigating towards unhabited islands. This was why he was wiling to wait. This was how he was able to wake up in the morning and hope and greet Rochalizo naturally. Of course, he got excited, imagining the life of his people in the new lands and prayed that for their sake, they would all arrive very soon. But he had never had a personal hope to look forward to and the perspective was exhilarating. 

Frank with himself, because at some point of another you needed to be, Suoh felt at times like he wasn’t in position to complain about his situation. His people loved him and he loved them and asking for more could be seen as borderline selfish and greedy, at least, how he saw it. Also, Rochalizo and him and known each other for several months, a period of time which was little compared to the separation or impossibilties for certain lovers to be together.

It was surely only puppy love, and teenagers’ hearts changed so fast and yearned for many others in a short timeframe. And yet to dismiss it so rationaly and harshly would have bee wrong; Suoh couldn’t help advocating in favour of this idea. The idea that, in spite of this love being “puppy love”, as some liked to call it, it couldn’t be reduced to to this only. It could never encompass the variety of feelings and affections he felt. And even so, if it really was just that, - because who knows, there too few chances of this being last and true love (considering the right and true kind of love could be found in only one person) - couldn’t he also get the chance to experience love, as silly and as immature as it could turn out to be?

He deemed this as a just judgement. However if the day they landed never came, there was no knowing as to how he would act... He preferred to avoid that thought for the time being. 

And as for now... They were still waiting.

Rochalizo’s faint voice crept up to his ear, warm and meek.

“Your skin smells good...”

Suoh’s grin lightened up his entire face and he positioned more comfortably against the pillows, laying down a little more backwards, bringing the Prince along.

“You too... You smell like clementines and honey”.

He could feel him smile against his skin which made Suoh even happier. Silence fell back on the room again and they stayed in each other’s arms, eyes closed, content. After some time, his neck a bit sore from the position, Suoh lowered his head away from the Prince and crashed on the pillow. Rochalizo shifted and replaced his head on Suoh’s chest as Suoh’s arms wrapped gently but narrowly around his middle. A few minutes later, they shifted again, Rochalizo climbing up the other’s body and as he moved, Suoh stared at him longingly.

To be this beautiful... That couldn’t possibly be a human sight.

Next thing, he was leaning in and peppering a few kisses on his cheeks. Rochalizo jumped a bit, but did not retreat; his cheeks aflamed, lowered down his face, allowing a wider access. The Prince bit his lips, probably thinking that if “this” felt pleasurable, so much more could feel heavenly. Could... A snarky smile carved his lips.

“Say Suoh, kissing like this, that’s a weird way to be friends, don’t you think?”

That comment earned a giggle from the young chief. His fingers brushed against a strand of a ginger strand of hair behind his ear.

“That would be okay, since I already do those things with a lot of other friends”, he said, half teasing, half stating, leaving his remark open for interpretation.

“Take that back!”, vociferated Rochalizo, obviously taking this as teasing and he rushed to give him kicks in the stomach with his knee. 

Wailing in pain, Suoh raised his own as well as his hands in an attempt to protect his assailed stomach.

“Ouch... Ah... Please stop, I take it back... I take it back!”

Rochalizo grined and, making sure he hadn’t really hurt Suoh - he was right to check in, he could be pretty sensitive - he lay down again to give him a hug. Suoh’s hand found his way to his hair and began stroking it slowly. Curling the hair through his fingers, he was reminded of the times he thought his hair was naturally this curly. Arosing again, Rochalizo’s voice sounded suddenly a lot more troubled.

“I know you already do all this with the others but... There’s a difference... Isn’t it? We do those things with another kind of intent... Don’t we?”

“Undeniably”, assured Suoh, holding him a bit more tighter.

He knew that was a topic that had often been brought on the table, for they had different perspectives on what it meant to be friends and where to draw the line between those and lovers. Suoh’s upfront affections resulted in his borders being looser than Rochalizo’s whereas the latter preferably saved most of his gentle touches for lovers, enforcing a clear division. This rarely manifested in fights, but rather in the form of jealousy. Not much could be done to counteract it, except giving reassurance and affection.

“It IS different. I am crazy about you. And tired of waiting too for the simple joy of kissing you in public”, he confessed.

The covers were clenched around them as Rochalizo hid his face under them, overwhelmed by embarrassement. A muffled sound emerged which sounded much like “how can you say things like that that easily”. Suoh smiled, but he rapidly added, more gravely.

“I’m sorry, it would’ve been best for you if I had been born in Amonlogia”.

Emerging from the sheets, the scarlet red face of the Prince, crushed between his cerulean fingers looked as though he was about to go a little bonkers. The long soft groan he was uttering was enough proof. Moving his head up to the ceiling as his fingers squashed their way down his face, he sighed, trying to regain his composure, stil trying to recover from the tenderness of this small speech.

“L-Look, I think you should be just a tiny bit ashamed of what you gab about sometimes, alright? In- In any case, I... What are you saying? I wouldn’t want you to be from Amonlogia! At all!”

Kneeling next to Suoh’s head and forcing their eye contact, he grasped the tip of the other’s chin and locked eyes with him. The threat in his gaze was subtle, it blended together with strong feelings of love, fear and sadness. Suoh’s breath hitched.

“It is because you are not from this damned place that I like you”

They had uttered those words before, but never as passionately as the context in this moment implied they were. Suoh’s gaze filled with immediate steadfast affection. Rochalizo’s voice trembled.

“Who knows who you could have turned out to be, in this country of mine? Your morals, your kindness, I... Everything... You must not wish to be someone else or to have been from elsewhere. This island and you... You and this island, you feed on each other’s benevolence, blossom when you can exchange acts of charity. I understand that both of you are tied to each other and that I can’t enjoy the sight of one without thanking the other. It is because you are from here, that you have lived peacefully here... That you are... Well... I think you are fine that way”.

Suoh did not know when he had began to smile but he could not stop. Rochalizo was right. The character of unfairness that was of the rules was a heavy burden to bear, but if it meant they had found each other and lived according to healthy values, it could not be so bad. However, he didn’t quite understand anymore if the point of his rhetoric was to alleviate the pain of the Mud Whale’s regulation or if he was simply praising him. He was too tired to ponder either way and not able to keep the conversation going but, went through the care of signifying how powerfully he felt the same with a look.

As the young chief was gradually dozing off, Rochalizo’s voice filled the silence once again at some point.

“You know I believe in what I just said, but on the other hand... Isn’t it hilarious how I’m the biggest danger to your people now?”

The mention of danger combined with the topic of his people was enough to get Suoh to focus a little more.

“I’m a bit proud of that, if I must say”, carried on Rochalizo’s voice, helding palavers arrogantly, “I’m immensely powerful. Just us walking as lovers could apparently turn you mad and, done in a snap, you’d mess up the whole political system and forget your people even exist! Just because of me!”

The other shook his head, a small laugh coming out of his sigh. Such senselessness and a joke a bit too dark for his taste. But nonetheless, he didn’t reproached it to the other. And how it had been described was a bit entertaining.

“I know... That rule isn’t right, it’s only bound to make leaders transgress it... But...”, he added, “I’m glad you’re my little chaos enabler!”

Rochalizo’s expression turned even more presumptuous.

“Chaos enabler will suffice”.

“But you still are a bit small”.

The Prince growled, offended. His hands slipped to Suoh’s belly in order to tickle him to death.

“Not as small as your monkey-brain!”, he exclaimed, as an evilly satisfied smile stretched his lips, hearing Suoh begging for him to stop between bits of laughter.

Getting his steady breathing back, the young chief hid his face an instant behind the back of his hand, relaxing a moment, burrowed into the thick pillow up to his ears. Through the fabric, he heard Rochalizo’s voice keep the conversation. 

“Don’t you think it’s strange though, this sort of abstinence they make you and made the previous mayors go through?”

While Suoh loved Rochalizo’s talks and thought he often made very good points, he still hoped to get some rest somehow. Perhaps a few more chats and he would ask for him to let him sleep, albeit he could not pretend not to be interested. Especially since those matters affected them as a pair. Furthermore, yes, undoubtedly most of these were jokes, however he knew the Prince find it difficult to speak plainly and instead, was far likelier to turn to backdoor policies.

“It is similar to those stories of people being restrained by forbidden love... The issue about this is that they are made total strangers to themselves by society and hate what they are supposed to love while also fearing it. And they can’t talk about it. It becomes a taboo and it kills them from the inside. They even get scared touching others, as if they’d become incontrollable”.

Suoh nodded, approving with virulence.

“I don’t like those stories. Keeping things silent doesn’t solve anything - if it doesn’t exacerbate the issue in the first place. Don’t fret, we are still going to talk about it. And we can still touch. I’m not afraid of any of us...”

Rochalizo simply smiled, although he now looked all the most embarrassed after spending just a few seconds deep in thoughts.

“B-by abstinence what I meant was... U-um, not just... Intercourse. I was including many other things! I’d just like to kiss and... Have others know”.

“Of course, but that would be okay, we are teenagers after all,”, Suoh replied, chuckling.

-Do you think they know?

-It’s hard to keep a secret here, but...

-Oh I know, you all are filthy town-gossipers...

-They possibly have light suspicions, but I don’t suppose so”, mumbled the other, as he couldn’t refrain a huge yawn.

They spent another few minutes not talking. Rochalizo now lay back on top of Suoh’s chest. Apart from the candles, whose flames had devoured a fairly good portion of the wax, there wasn’t a single other light outside. Nightime encompassed the Mud Whale, pitch black and not a single star visible through the mass of dark clouds. But most shocking was this silence, so defeaningly profound. To Rochalizo’s heart, it felt quite lonely and unconsciously omnious, accustomed as he was to the noise and the traffic flow of his urban hometown. But it was also in a sense, soothingly liberating, as this worry of avoiding intrusive eyes dissipated. In this moment, they could have been the only citizens of this island. The only people in the world.

“I don’t think I’ll ever grow used to this place”, he said, in a low voice, nostalgic for something he couldn’t understand, “We would usually hear people. Tonight, they’re all on the opposite side on the ship, busy with party preparations. Wanna go, Suoh?”

Getting no answer, the Prince shifted until his eyes fell on the sight of Suoh sleeping soundly. Feeling tenderly amused, he extended his arm to brush away the little strands of hair fallen of the beautiful face.

“Look at us! I talk inapropriately too much, and you couldn’t tell me you’d soon collapse...”

He carefully got out of bed, landing on his tiptoes. Getting close again, on the white, momentarily non-frowning forehead, he lay a soft hand. Only displays of affection which could also be those of friends for the time being, they had said and agreed to. As time moved slowly, it also grew short on his patience, but, gazing at the sight of his lovely flame, all thoughts of frustration evaporated into thin air and all he could feel was pride. Love. And the hopeful certitude that waiting was, in spite of his disastrous existence being filled with lifelong ruinous choices, the best choice he had ever made.

                                                      OoOoO

When Suoh woke up, the calm he had come home to could no longer be found. Rubbing his eyes lazily and wiping up the little drool on his lip, he approached the window and pulled the dusty curtains open. A cold breeze blowed in his face and he breathed in long and slow, charging his lungs in fresh air again. Having leaned onto both his elbows on the edge of the window, he could hear and see more of the gleeful turmoil which was bubbling in the streets. The alleys overflowed with flower ornaments and white ivy, golden sparkles and confettis had been scattered on the ground, stomped by children who ran by, laughing. If he squinted, he could make out the hot lights of a huge bonfire, he assumed, as the rest was hidden by another few houses, trailing rays of lights along some facades. Screams of joy and general excitement stirred up from that peculiar spot of the island. But, as a smile crept up to Suoh’s mouth, a loud boom made him jump and almost had him falling out the window. Grasping the ledge fearfully, his eyes followed a trail of red light rise high in the sky and explode. Upon that sight, Suoh automatically crouched under the window, securing himself behind the wall. As no immediate threat nor any screams followed, he got up on his feet again to look outside, searching for the bits of whatever had just blown up before his eyes.

“What the hell?!?!?!”, exclaimed a loud, authoritative voice below him.

A voice he only knew too well. Suoh bent forward at the window, looking for him, his heart compressed in his chest. If he had been hurt, if even the slightiest thing had happened to him he-

“What the hell, seriously! I told them to wait! The bastards!”

The young chief’s eyes finally found Rochalizo. He stood in a nearby garden discussing vehemently with Kuchiba. He did not seem hurt, nor did Kuchiba and the scenery around them did not show signs of damage. Another trail of light rose up in a sizzling sound this time, and Suoh followed it, less afraid now but nonetheless crouching a bit, only keeping his eye at the right level to witness the explosion. As it did, the trail parted in several other golden petals, looking much like a rose. The remains silently fell back on the village, fading out into the air.

“I’m gonna kill them! I’m gonna kill them!”

Suoh repositioned on the edge, looking down at him, not comprehending in the least what was going on. The Prince finally took notice of him and covered his mouth in shocked guilt.

“I’m so sorry Suoh”, he cried from afar, “Did I wake you up? Well, I guess you can’t sleep with all this racket!”

The other nodded awkwardly, waving his hand vaguely.

“What was that?!”, he shouted in response.

Rochalizo looked angry again. He swelled his cheeks, as if trying his best not to start cursing.

“That was... Well... I... I told them to wait until you woke up to light them up. But hopefully or not, you woke up just in time!”

Kuchiba shook his head in major disaprovement and folded his arms. Rochalizo smiled pretentiously at him, then redirected his attention on Suoh:

“I was coming to wake you up and bring you along, but it seems”, he winced through another smile, “I was outstripped and I no longer have to deal with the moral dilemma about letting you sleep or not.

-But what are them?

-Come down quickly! I’m meeting with you halfway from here! If we don’t hurry those idiots will run through the last of my stock!”

                                                       OoOoO

They ran through the sparkly streets, shining of the hot lights of torches on wood staffs. Rochalizo’s hair fluttered before his eyes in a fiery haze and his hand which held Suoh’s tightly, not letting go, was warm and spongy. The young chief’s breath ran short, despite them having ran just a few dozens of meters, but he didn’t want to stop running, ever. In this instant, his heart beat fast and running through the night with the one he wished most to be with made him ecstatic, the lights bordering the path as though they were casting their blessing upon their wild adventure.

“Look Suoh!”, screamed Rochalizo, as they were reaching the central place in which gathered the general crowd. 

He pointed at something Suoh missed but he then caught sight of the shimmering explosion of another of those sparkly fires, An emerald one, shaped in the form of a palm tree.

“I don’t understand, but that’s beautiful”, Suoh said, huddling against Rochalizo’s arm.

“They’re fireworks. I found them in my stuff and your people went mad with excitement. And... I wanted you to see them...”

Rochalizo gazed at him silently, his tender eyes expressing a childlike excitement as well as admirative affection, lots of it. Suoh returned the gaze. They walked together hand in hand to the central place, tacking between the people who drank festive beverages, ate, sang along with those playing local instruments, talked with spice and joy. Pointing at a spot lifted up above the crowd, Suoh guided towards the edge of an old passageway which stairs had broke. They sat there, nestling against each other, watching the festivities for a moment. To the left, a group of people danced to a contry dance song, some on their own or with friends, bouncing their heads and arms to the rythm, some of them, much closer to where they had settled, danced in pairs with lovers, exchanging when the tempo slowed down, a few hugs and kisses. Rochalizo’s eyes were fixed on them, insistant. When the other asked him what he was thinking of, he gave that answer:

“Oh... Sorry, I’ve spaced out”, he said, seeking to look more cheerful, but Suoh had grasped the envy and jealousy in his eyes and those feelings somewhat stuck to his face, even as he put in some good-will.

Suoh gave him a little nudge, not buying that excuse. He knew him too well.

“Do you want to dance?”, he inquired, offering his hand.

Uneasy, the Prince shifted a bit awkwardly. But it didn’t take long for him to make up his mind and he accepted timidly. Walking through the crowd anew, they took place for the following dance, one of Rochalizo’s hand on Suoh’s shoulder and one of Suoh’s around his waist. Starting to dance, the young chief realised his partner wouldn’t know how to follow the rythm of this one and because it was swift and vigorous, they were rapidly lost and were giggling at each other’s bad synchronisation and clumsiness, trying many times but ending up failing and shouting a few “we suck!” and “this is so hard!” at each other through the loud music. The next dance played slower than the previous ones, calmer, which in consequence had many single people leaving. Rochalizo’s hands had come to rest around Suoh’s neck up to his elbows and Suoh’s hands had slipped around his hips. They stood so close to each other it had become hard to breathe and to even pay attention to the music. And how could they?, when the other’s face reflected the lights of the bonfire and was flushed from the exercise and stamina.

However, as he looked outside of their carefree bubble, Suoh could feel his stomach form knots, being under the most unpleasant impression that all eyes were upon them, silently judging or wondering. And he noticed that Rochalizo felt it too, as his hands clutched slightly at his white tunic. Their bodies seemed suddenly heavy and not much moveable to keep up with the music, as relaxed as it was.

“Rochalizo, I...

-Yeah...

-Do you want to go get a drink instead? I’m sorry.

-No, no, of course. Don’t apologise”, the Prince shrugged, wincing awkwardly but with resignation.

But even hearing those words hurt Suoh. It was sad that they couldn’t dance and have a good time like the others did, but he feared on top of that Rochalizo’s feelings. He never wanted him to believe he was ashamed of him, he thought, as the other dragged him to the drinks stalls. They bought fizzy drinks and moved to a place more hidden from the public eye. Suoh opened his mouth to apologise again, but Rochalizo silenced him with a look.

“Don’t, it’s not necessary. Can I... Can I show you something?”

Suoh blinked a few times and nodded, smiling in wait. The Prince searched for something in his pockets, going through both of them. His face took on a scary air when he thought he had lost whatever he was looking for, but he found it, as he checked twice. His entire face blushed, even his ears - and Suoh didn’t know that was possible - as he handed him a small piece of paper. The paper he had been writing on earlier. Suoh unfolded it slowly, watching Rochalizo as he turned his head away. On the sheet, there were only few small words, but reading them, it made his heart burst with joy. A joy so strong he did not know how to exteriorise it.

Suoh’s hands gave small wrinkles to it, trembling in excitement, but took care as not to tear it. Biting his lips, he closed the piece of paper, replaying the moment he had read it for the first time again and again. Those words, “I love you”. Rochalizo hid his head in his palms, still looking away, talking fast and a lot as if trying to fill the silence which overwhelmed him with uneasiness.

“I’m so sorry, this isn’t fancy of anything and I... I could’ve done something much better. I didn’t want to leave behind something big that could expose you and... I just... I just wanted to say it now and not wait a long time again, but I couldn’t make myself say it... I...-

He was suddenly cut by the weight of someone throwing himself in his arms. Arms strongly wrapping around him and a small face, buried into his shoulder, and then, he felt something wet rolling down his shoulder. Suoh moved back, eyelashes filled with tears and his cheeks wet. The glee in his eyes was so dizzying Rochalizo got almost knocked down. It was an otherwordly vision.

“I love you! I love you”, exclaimed Suoh, sniffing and pressing his hands to his beloved’s upper arms.

Suoh smiled through the tears. In this situation, he felt the need to touch him and he did, cupping his cheeks into his hands and pressing their foreheads together. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him for hours and cherish him, maybe even biting those lips. Rochalizo’s eyes were also on his mouth. 

Suoh sighed, this could not go on like this. It hurt both of them. An end must be put to this, but yet, there were still no close in landing to new lands... On a whim, Suoh, took hold of Rochalizo’s hand and dragged him back to the crowd, where people still danced and partied and sang. 

“What are you doing?”, the other said, squeezing his hand, puzzled.

“I told you to wait for me and you have...”, he began, searching for his words in the middle of a sea of people and lights, feeling strongly unrational.

“But I’m afraid”, Suoh continued, shaking his head slowly, “I’ve come to realise it is cruel of me to ask you that and by the way... I cannot wait for you any longer...”

Rochalizo’s eyes flickered, unsure of what this meant and if he should be bracing himself for a heartache too great for him to handle. Suoh’s eyes were still sad and gave away some clues, he had made a decision and he didn’t like what he had just decided on, his hair flapping around him miserably. 

“What are you trying to say...?”

His chest tightened all the more and suddenly he didn’t want an answer although he had just asked. He wanted to stay in the miserable state of doubt because nothing would hurt more if Suoh chose to leave him.

But once again, unexpectedly, Suoh crashed into his arms, scooting closer and they made eyecontact in a fuzzy mess of feelings of love mixed with excrutiating uncertainty. Suoh’s face leaned towards Rochalizo until they were a few inches apart of each other, their noses brushing and they breathed the same air. Rochalizo’s rested both his hands on the other’s cheeks. Suoh could feel them this time, more than a sole impression, he was certain everyone had stopped to watch them, because he was hearing every sound of the island slowly fade away into inaudibleness, one by one, until he could not hear anything else but the buzzing sound in his own ears. The stress was building in his chest but mightier was the adrenaline he experienced for being this close to Rochalizo and on top of that, where everyone could see them, proudly unhidden. He had had enough and he had enough. They had showed many times they cared about each other, but at the same time, had never really dared. It was high time he caught up with time and that they loved, loved each other in any way they could imagine and put to into acts. 

Rochalizo’s lips came closer tentatively, glinting in saliva and swollen, as his hands clutched at Suoh’s hair, almost desperate for affection. Suoh looked at them, probing how much he had desired to kiss him and have everyone know and how many times he had resisted. No more of that. Closing the gap between them, he met with Rochalizo’s mouth and kissed his lips passionately, pouring all his love into the ways he moved against him. And almost simultaneously, the other kissed back with an unmatched urgence and fever. Their mouths were sealed for a long time and for the Gods knew how long, they could not part from each other. It was when the sound of a glass shattering to the ground reached their ears that they both came to stop, both looking in the same direction, meeting the crowd’s eyes.

From the many people which composed it, every face expressed either shock, disapprouval or happiness. They endured the silence, not moving, waiting for whatever punishment would be ordered. But then a voice rose up from the crowd, loud and clear, overjoyed.

“Hell yeah! You go, Suoh!”

Followed by one, then ten, fifty and finally, perhaps half the crowd, hundreds of cries of joy elevated, cheering for them. People clapped, shouted in support, jumped in excitement for them, threw fists in the air, looked all “I knew it”. Some just stood where they were, smiling warmly at them in silent approbation. Oh, there were others, way less supportive but it did not matter now. It was truly something to be acclaimed by hundreds of souls, almost an entire island for what you were, to be declared defensible and worthy of acceptance. Suoh found himself lost in the cries of the crowd, submerged by overall what you could call love, the love of a family who didn’t delude itself and embraced what he chose at core and made him feel alive. Turning to Rochalizo, he gave him a long loving look which the prince reciprocated, grabbing and holding his hand in his. It would be fine in the end.

[serpentstole]

Luciferian Challenge: Day 12+13 (And 22)

A few of these prompts ended up being very similar in theme, so I’ve combined them into a bit of a long reply.

Dogma is something we throw about…that we reject it. Where do you think we may fall short as Luciferians/Satanists when it comes to dogma? Do you think dogma has a certain value?

I don’t think dogma has any value really, no, as I don’t like the idea of rules or ideas that cannot be questioned on principle. Even as a child, I took issue with blind obedience. My mother once called me downstairs, and I asked why, and my father got angry and said that I shouldn’t bother to ask why and just do it, and that even if one of them told me to jump out of a window they probably had a good reason for it.

That memory is seared into my brain and still irks me.

I do think rules themselves can be important, but when we speak of rejecting dogma it’s typically in the sense of it being some authoritative status quo that cannot be discussed or challenged. I think my example above is a good example of that, as petty as it may seem: that parents should be obeyed without question and with the assumption they have our best interests at heart.

I do not believe there’s room for that sort of attitude in an empathetic and respectful society, even towards children. Respecting their natural curiosity and teaching them about bodily autonomy is something I think can only be a net good. The only thing growing up in a strict household taught me, where there was little room for negotiation or challenging of the way things were, was how to be a decent liar.

It harmed me in far more ways than it helped instill any positive values, and while I would not want to belittle the experiences of anyone in a similar boat, I consider myself one of the lucky ones. There are some families where a dogmatic stance, whether based in politics or religion, can lead to the alienation or outright abandonment of LGBT youth, of young women who wish control over their own bodies, of those with views that differ from their parents’, or any other black sheep.

I feel like this question and my thoughts on it really go hand in hand with the next one, so I’m going to actually combine them into one post and make up the difference later.

Do you think it’s dogma or silly to say what Luciferianism/Satanism is not?

I do not think it’s dogmatic to say what Luciferianism or Satanism is or isn’t. The reason I’ve kept both labels in these two prompts, when I’ve removed them in every other post, is because I spent a lot of time in a mixed Luciferian and Satanist community during the beginning of my religious journey. Despite our differences, especially in the case of Atheist Satanism versus Theistic Luciferianism, I saw a great deal of overlap in a lot of the values/ideals, inspirations, and talking points. 

I think outlining those ideals and values is important to just… having a label. Words mean things. Religious affiliations and ideas mean things. Even saying you belong to or adhere to a school of thought typically has some manner of definition or parameters. While Luciferianism and Satanism can be incredibly diverse when it comes to the details of one’s ethics and morals, practices, views of the divinity or lack there of, and other suck points, there’s a good deal that does unite us that’s reflected in the archetypal figures our religions are named after. I also believe that certain aspects of what is seen as the Standard Luciferian should be weighed more or less heavily. For example, I don’t see my irritation with hostility towards Christianity as something that makes me less of a Luciferian.

However, I want to combine these two prompts with one more to round out my view of this topic. 

What do you disagree with Luciferians/Satanists most?

In the goddamn dogma they cling to and perpetuate while claiming to be adversarial to or enlightened above such ideas. It’s become almost a meaningless buzzword. It barely still looks like a real word to me anymore. This is honestly where my post goes completely off the rails into a mini essay, so it’s under the cut.

The idea that all “Abrahamic” religions should be treated as inherently harmful and oppressive is a bad take. 

That Christianity, Judaism, and Islam should even be lumped together when discussing such issues betrays a shallow understanding of these religions that’s been regurgitated from one person to another, typically through a culturally Christian lens.

The idea that “only LaVeyan Satanism should be called Satanism because nothing else that calls itself Satanism is actually Satanism” is exhausting, and I will fist fight Anton myself in hell.

The principles of Might Makes Right and Social Darwanism that some Satanists perpetuate is dumb and bad and wrong, sorry, that’s the only rebuttal I’m dignifying that school of thought with. Once again, I will be fist fighting Anton in hell.

And that’s to say nothing of the Satanists and Luciferians out there that regurgitate the same racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and other assorted bigotries that they’ll condemn religions like Christanity for while perpetuating it with a coat of black paint. Because I have absolutely seen this first hand, both as an observer and as the target of it.

Like... I can’t speak on Islam at all, because I have very very limited experience with it from both a research and real life experience point of view, and thus I’m not comfortable making any claims. On the other hand, I do know that to list all the ways that Judaism is not a dogmatic religion would deserve its own post written by someone far more knowledgeable than me, and it somehow still gets lumped into the Problematic n’ Dogmatic category of AbRaHaMiC ReLiGiOnS. For that reason, in the case of Islam, I can’t help but wonder if the assumption that it’s also dogmatic comes from the harmful assumption that it’s a religion that’s strict to the point of harshness that a lot of people have.

Even in the case of Christianity, which I would argue (as someone who I’d say was raised within the church) is hands down the most seemingly dogmatic of the three (particularly in North America), this is just not universally true. If it was, there probably wouldn’t be so many branches and denominations, many of which cannot stand each other and think the rest are misguided at best and heretical at worst. This is something that’s even brought up in the Satanic Bible; I’ve read the miserable thing. Have you ever seen someone say “Christians and Catholics”? That’s a pretty loaded example of how much disagreement exists within the religion when an entire core branch of it is considered tangentially related.

Not to mention, I was raised Lutheran. That came about because a German Catholic got incredibly steamed at his own religion so he made a more boring different version of it. While the existence of dogma has led to these schisms, historically speaking, the end result has been a religion so varied that it’s hard to say what is and isn’t treated as inarguable law. If you don’t believe me, try talking to a Protestant pastor about the Seven Deadly Sins and see how far you get. I tried during confirmation class and got shut down immediately... but on the flip side, my church was pretty accepting of LGBT folks, which I think some people would claim Christianity is dogmatically against by default.

Is there dogmatic thinking within specific churches or branches or communities? Absolutely, I wouldn’t argue that. I think it can arise in any community, religious or not, but that some religious communities seem to be particularly vulnerable to it. But the harm those specific cases could do should be where our focus goes, not the condemnation of these religions or the concept of religion as a whole, which I touched on in a previous prompt. 

I’m not some glorious enlightened mind. I would not want to give the impression that I think I hold in my hands the One True Way to do Luciferianism, or that I think the majority of this religious community are uncritical edgelords. This is, after all, my answer to the thing I take issue with the most, not my thoughts on Luciferianism or Satanism as a whole. I just don’t think it should be a particularly hot take that Religious Discrimination Is Bad Actually, or that maybe you can be rebellious and adversarial and hedonistic and enlightened while still genuinely giving a shit about people. Because otherwise what’s the point?

If we are hostile and rebellious with no actual end goal, no greater cause or purpose, we are simply being contrarian for the sake of it. If we blame the idea of organized religion instead of those who manipulate and abuse faith and scripture for selfish and malicious ends, we’ve missed the point, as I said in the aforementioned previous post. Not all of us have the ability to become an activist, obviously, and I would not ask you to. But I think as those who would claim to reject dogmatic thinking and strive to embody either the ideals of enlightenment or the adversary would do well to be ever questioning their preconceptions of the world around them, of other religions, and of less obvious unjust structures of power.

I don’t know why a community that believes in illumination and free thinking sees the world in such black and white ways.

While I will always strive for a greater understanding of the world, and I hold the concept of enlightenment very dear to my heart, I think it’s something that one spends a lifetime working towards. Alongside my favourite quotes from Paradise Lost, I hold the Socratic Paradox of “I know that I know nothing” as a personal motto, and I wish more people who I share this label with would do the same.

[dreamfyrebreath]

Serial Killer Will Fanfic:

Ok just here me out:

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

It started out by accident, really. The Half-Blood lay on the table, pale and unconscious.

"Blood loss", he muttered, his hand gently passing over the prone body of his fellow camper, his magic automatically pinpointing the injuries, "Two stab wounds. Poison on the blade..."

He winced. This would take up energy. Way more energy than he had. He snuck a glance at the Camper's girlfriend. She looked distraught, periodically whimpering and sniffling.

"Aurora, is it?" he called to her.

The girl's head whipped up, and she nodded.

"Aurora, I'm out of nectar. I need you to run to the Apollo Cabin and grab some more.

Instantly, the girl turned and fled. He was all alone now. He stared at the boy on the bed.

He felt his life force dip.

He grappled with himself furiously; try and save him and die in the process, or let him pass on and live to save other lives?

The boy's life force dipped further.

Almost mechanically, he reached out and grabbed his scalpel and leaned over and-

And what?

With a shudder, he made a purposely irregular incision at the Camper's wrist.

His life force vanished completely in a second.

The doors of the infirmary burst open, and Aurora stumbled in, ashen faced. She glanced at the Camper- Asher, his brain supplied unhelpfully- and late out a hideous wail.

No one questioned anything. Horrifyingly, they were all used to death. Some more than others.

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

The next time he had no excuse. Hannah of the Demeter Cabin had been mauled by a monster in the midnight patrol, and he was just about packing up when they rushed her in.

He didn't know why he did it this time. It didn't make him feel any different, this killing. He'd researched; he'd turned up empty.

He got no joy, no sick pleasure from doing this- this murdering of innocents. He didn't even feel a sense of power.

So why was he doing this?

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

Third time's the charm, he thought with a smirk, which he instantly wiped off his face.

Daniel, a son of Ares, had been sparring with his siblings when they got a little too enthusiastic, minorly injuring him in the process.

But the injury was close to his heart. A quick stab, and no one would know. His mind racing, he peeked behind himself, and saw Clarisse watching him through narrowed eyes.

She was polite enough to leave when he asked her to, but she stayed outside the door the whole time. But three years of experience weren't for nothing.

But for days afterwards, he could feel her suspicious gaze on him. Does she know? He wondered.

Sometimes he wondered...

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

Oh gods oh gods oh gods!!!

His mind was a panicked blur of thoughts.

He knew he was dangerous. He'd known for years. For Hera's sake, he murdered people.

But it was always, always in the contained space of the infirmary. He only ever let himself go around patients on the table.

So how come today, when he was walking in the woods, he'd attacked and killed Harley?

Little, defenceless, ten year old Harley, who'd had no idea that today morning he'd be stabbed to death by a maniac posing as one of the best healer's at Camp.

Oh gods what would people think when they found out??

He broke into a cold sweat.

What would Nico think when he found out?

He'd only just got Nico in his life. He couldn't lose him so easily.

He had no choice.

He had to dispose of the evidence.

He picked up the corpse- that was what Harley was now, a cold, dead corpse- and stumbled deeper into the woods.

Throw him in the lake? Bury him? Burn him? What was he supposed to do?!

The sun was starting to set, darkness falling and shadows creeping up the trees. He began to nibble his thumb, a nervous habit he rarely practiced nowadays, tasting iron and salt.

"Solace?"

Will froze, his stomach and heart dropping simultaneously. Slowly he turned around, discretely placing his bloody hands behind his back.

"What are you doing here?" The Ghost King asked, stepping out of the shadows, shading his eyes the slightest bit, and a quick look down at himself confirmed that his nervousness had made him glow like a beacon. Damn.

"I was...walking! You know what they say about excercise, don't you?" He asked, trying for a cheery grin.

Nico frowned.

"Will... there's something I need to talk to you about"

Will felt his eyes widen, and he stepped forward, to do what he didn't know.

Beg? Plead? Convince?

"Will what are you- is that a body??"

Will's blood turned to ice. He opened his mouth to protest, to deny.

"I should have known", Nico cut in, "the aura of death I've been feeling around you. I should have- should have-"

"Nico", and he's surprised at how small his voice sounds, "Nico please I- don't leave me"

He wants to kick himself. So not only is he a psychopath, he's a pathetic psychopath who acts like a dumb teenager with a crush.

He feels arms around him, and with a jolt of surprise he realises it's Nico. Nico's hugging him???!

"Why would I leave you, silly?", Nico asks, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"Because I killed people?" He asks back, confusion seeping into his voice.

"Well, so have I", Nico says, stepping back and wrinkling his nose in the most adorable way possible, "though with better reason"

Will's sure his mouth is hanging open in shock.

Nico rolls his eyes, "Will, I'm a son of Hades. Who's fatal flaw is holding grudges. Bianca and Hazel were 90% of my impulse control. So when they weren't around..."

Nico trails off, his eyes glazed over, a tiny smile that is unfairly cute playing on his lips.

"So... we're still together?" Will asks, heart beating faster with hope.

"On one condition", Nico says, the heartstopping smile still on his face, "Next time I choose the victim"

Will can feel his smile widen as he pulls Nico closer.

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

Well, that was long. This was inspired by some other posts by the way.

[justphilia]

Lactose Tolerance (Terumob, 2k)

Based on this post I made a while back.

Shigeo has a special way of enjoying milk, and after some upsetting incidents, he starts drinking chocolate milk more, aka his comfort drink whenever he’s sad. Teru mistakes this as Shigeo’s favorite flavor and even after Shigeo’s done feeling sad, he’s still serving it to Shigeo.

Now on ao3 because I still worry that I didn’t italisize some stuff,,,

Shigeo loves milk. Everybody knows that, there isn’t a time or day you wouldn’t see him drinking a glass of milk at home or a carton of milk at school. But what they don’t know is that Shigeo has a systematic way of drinking his milk, specifically the flavor of it. Nobody notices it, since the way he does it is so subtle, it never crosses their mind. 

It’s pretty simple. Regular for normal days, strawberry for particularly happy ones, and chocolate for days that aren’t so glam. His facial expressions barely change whenever he drinks a specific flavor, so it isn’t easy to tell that his feelings are correlated to the milk he drinks. Not even Ritsu knows about it.

Recently, Shigeo had started to drink more chocolate milk than usual. It wasn’t a surprise on his part, since the past few months had been pretty rough. Mogami Land, nearly losing Reigen, World Domination, and The Incident had left Shigeo feeling rather gloomy lately. Despite this, nobody has connected the dots yet, nobody but Teru.

Or so Shigeo thinks. 

“I have chocolate milk in the fridge if you want some,” Teru says after stepping inside his apartment with Shigeo, who lights up at the mention of chocolate milk. Teru inwardly praises himself and outwardly smiles, he so badly wants to tell Shigeo that, ‘Oh, I’ve noticed that chocolate seems to be your favorite flavor, ha ha.’ but it just sounded so creepy in a way that Teru decides against it. The last thing he wants Shigeo to think of him as is a stalkerish boy that takes note of the smallest, most insignificant things.

Of course, nothing about Shigeo is small or insignificant, but Teru wants to play it safe. Just in case.

Receiving the cup of chocolate milk, Shigeo feels his cheeks grow warm, because although Ritsu has done the same to him before, this was something different. Teru gave him chocolate milk right when Shigeo started feeling terrible since last week, it’s so perfectly time, there’s no way Teru doesn’t know about his milk flavor system. It’s so sweet of the blonde to notice things like these that seem so stupid to Shigeo. 

“Thank you, Hanazawa, you’re wonderful,” Shigeo smiles after taking a surprisingly large gulp that shocks Teru, just a bit.

Teru blushes, flicking his hair back to hide his embarrassment with charm, “Of course I am!”

This became a constant routine for them, where Teru would get Shigeo chocolate milk whenever he could, and then Shigeo would feel his heart soar more and more whenever he does. It feels dumb, falling in deeper love with someone just because they managed to guess a deep secret of his. Perhaps the comfort of drinking chocolate milk managed to seep into his feelings for Teru, making it grow stronger. Like water to a little sapling. 

Whatever the case is, Shigeo’s glad to have Teru as a friend, and maybe they could be something more if this went on long enough.

This is going, possibly, too long.

It’s not like Shigeo stopped liking Teru just because the blonde was starting to give him too much chocolate milk, but it was starting to get pretty tiring and unnecessary. Shigeo stopped feeling bad ages ago, thanks to Teru being there for him, but it took a while for Shigeo to notice that Teru was still giving him chocolate milk regardless of how Shigeo felt on those days.

He’s beginning to question if Teru knew about his habit at all, and if this had been a funny misunderstanding from the start. 

“Shigeo?” Teru tilts his head into the raven’s view and the other blinks, noticing the carton of -you guessed it- chocolate milk in his hand. 

Shigeo smiles, though very awkwardly, and politely takes the carton from Teru. His friend takes a seat beside him on the park bench, it’s a pretty sunny day and Shigeo would’ve much preferred to have a carton of strawberry milk instead. But he’s afraid to upset Teru, so he says nothing.

“Is something bothering you?” Teru asks, noticing the uneasiness from Shigeo’s hunched over shoulders and soft grip on his carton of milk, as if the shorter boy wouldn’t mind dropping it to the ground right now. 

Honestly, yes, something is bothering Shigeo, but he doesn’t want to tell Teru because that would make Teru feel upset, and the last thing Shigeo needs is one more upset person. You see, due to the fact that chocolate milk is associated with feelings such as contempt and frustration, drinking it when he isn’t feeling those feelings would just make him feel those feelings. If that makes sense.

And if this really is a misunderstanding, if Teru really didn’t know about his habit from the start, then Shigeo would have to go through the embarrassment of explaining it. That’s just too awkward! Too much for him!

So with that, Shigeo only smiles, because lately he’s been learning how to do that properly, “I’m fine, thank you for the milk.”

Teru smiles back, a small blush dusting his cheeks. Shigeo was never great at lying, but Teru’s patient enough to wait. For now he could only help in the smallest ways, like providing chocolate milk.

Chocolate milk.

Don’t tell me… Teru’s smile threatens to drop at the sudden realization. Don’t tell me he’s sick of chocolate milk because of me. 

He panics just like that, almost running both his hands into his blonde locks and only barely manages to suppress a yell. There’s no way Teru could’ve ruined the milk experience for Shigeo, but the evidence was there and it’s only started to click into place.

Way to go dumbass! Teru’s hand curls against his lap. But just to be sure, I’ll watch him carefully right now. 

One thing about Teru is the fact that he sucks at being subtle, everything about him is over the top, so whenever he’s struggling to keep down his inner bursting feelings, it looks like he’s about to explode on the outside. Shigeo takes note of this, biting the straw of his milk.

Oh no, Teru’s upset. Did he find out? Shigeo sips quietly, breaking into cold sweat. His plan had completely backfired, what should he do? “Ah, Teru, I’ve been meaning to say this…” Shigeo suddenly speaks out of nowhere, no plan in mind, and completely winging this from sheer panic.

Oh here it comes, rest in peace, I wish to have Shigeo’s favorite flowers at my funeral. Teru nearly weeps, a little overdramatic, but that’s how Teru is sometimes and that’s how he’ll always be. “Mhm?”

“Thank you, for...being my friend. Not a lot of people...notices that...I like...milk,” that’s a lie, everyone knows he likes milk. “Especially...um...chocolate.” Nailed it. Hopefully it’s convincing enough, with the way he looks now and the way he phrased it, there’s no way Teru would know if he’s lying.

Teru blinks and Shigeo holds his breath, mouth not leaving the straw of his milk. Was it too much? Too out of place?

“You’re welcome!” Teru brightens up, smiling so wide it almost blinds Shigeo, or maybe it’s the fact that a huge wave of relief had washed over him that made him feel this breathless. “Honestly, I was a little worried that I might’ve made you hate chocolate milk. Silly right?”

Shigeo hums, just for the sake of acknowledging Teru. Fantastic, now to find a way out of this without hurting Teru’s feelings.

Funnily enough, that opportunity came up two days after that ordeal. It was one of those rare days where both Shigeo and Teru were present in Spirits and Such, just to hang around in Reigen’s office and catch up.

Reigen prides himself in being an excellent people reader, mostly because he’s the only one that knows about Shigeo’s milk habit, which seemed so blatantly obvious it makes Reigen laugh out loud sometimes. He didn’t tell Shigeo he knew of course, he never got around to saying it, so it never came up until today.

Seeing Shigeo drinking chocolate milk had shocked Reigen a little, because even though he isn’t as close with Shigeo as he was before, he still keeps up with Shigeo’s mood status, and as far as Reigen knows, Shigeo’s perfectly fine. So there’s no reason why Shigeo should be drinking his comfort beverage.

No harm in checking with Shigeo though, so the man gets up from his desk and walks over to the couches where the two boys are chatting. He squats down, getting down to Shigeo’s eye level, and very seriously asks, “Are you okay?”

“...Yes.” Shigeo answers, extremely bemused with the sudden question.

“Mob, you’re drinking chocolate,” Reigen says, growing more worried. He hopes that Shigeo isn’t lying.

“I--” Shigeo starts, but Teru cuts in, confusion written all over his face.

“What’s that gotta do with his feelings?” Teru says, his past worry about accidentally making Shigeo sick of chocolate suddenly comes back to him as quickly as it had gone away that day. 

Shigeo sighs, placing the carton down at last, and he uncomfortably rubs his arms, “So you really were mistaken from the start…”

“Mistaken?” Teru didn’t think he could be more confused than before, but here he is, completely lost and in the dark, and feeling rather stupid. 

“Uhm,” Shigeo squirms, his face going from a light cheerful pink to a bright embarrassed red. He mumbles something, which neither of the other two could catch. 

“Sorry?”

“I...I have this thing,” Shigeo finally starts, a note too high and a tad bit too loud. “I drink milk...depending on how...I feel…on...the...day…” He trails off, realizing how dumb it sounds out loud. “I’m sorry...for lying to you...I promise I wasn’t trying to be mean…”

Reigen watches as Teru stands up, waving his hands around before gripping Shigeo’s hands, holding them tight, “I’m the one that’s supposed to be sorry! Oh goodness, I can’t believe...I’m sorry I got it all wrong from the start, tell me what I’ve been doing wrong, please.”

Shigeo blinks, wide eyed and very surprised at the sudden outburst, and he’s pretty sure his hands are pretty gross and sweaty from all that embarrassment. “I drink chocolate only when I’m sad. But I’m not sad anymore, and it makes me sad when...I drink it when I’m not sad. Does...that make sense?”

“Of course it does, definitely, I understand. I’m sorry again. What milk do you want to drink? Or maybe you don’t want milk anymore? I can finish your milk...AH! NO THAT’S STUPID, HA HA, IGNORE THAT!” Teru flushes, the thought of an indirect kiss practically has him melting on the spot.

“No, it’s okay, you can have it,” Shigeo says, fingers wiggling in Teru’s grasp. “I’d...really like strawberry, actually. Because, um, it’s my...happy drink, and you make me happy...so…” Words. How does Reigen do it? How does he say so much without missing a beat? Speaking of Reigen, he’s been awfully quiet.

Reigen isn’t bored per se, but he thinks he should probably leave the conversation before he becomes the third wheel. Guess all they needed was a good push into the right path. Way to go, Reigen, you’re doing great as a parental figure.

Teru’s actually melting, not literally of course, but with the way he’s sweating, he might as well be. “I make you happy?”

“Yes?” Shigeo softly replies, not sure what to do with the fact that his friend is probably going to faint on the spot.

“Go out with me.”

“Huh?”

“I MEAN GO OUT WITH ME TO GET YOU STRAWBERRY MILK!” Teru is screaming at this point. Oh god what a mess.

“Like a date?” Shigeo slowly says, taking Teru’s first sentence into account since Shigeo could perfectly hear Teru. 

“Y-Yes!”

Shigeo’s not sure whose heart is beating louder, his or Teru’s. He has the feeling it’s Teru, with the way he is right now. “Okay then, let’s go. Here, my chocolate milk.”

“Thank you! Yes let’s...Bye, Reigen!” Teru takes the milk and basically drags Shigeo towards the door. “Thanks for your help!”

The door slams shut and Reigen’s yet again left in an empty office, and he wishes Serizawa was here to keep him company. “Help with what though? All I did was ask a question about milk.” He says to the open air.

[argylemnwrites]

Wants and Needs

Character: Drake Walker

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (The Royal Romance Books 1 and 2, various points)

Word Count: ~3100

Rating: R (language, sensual content)

Summary: Drake’s wanted her a lot of different ways.

Author’s Note: Kicking it old school for Day 21 of the Choices February Challenge (Desire) with a return to slow burn, pining Drake from the early TRR books. All of it’s under the cut because this earns its rating from the start.

He wanted to fuck her. And that was a huge fucking problem.

She was absolutely Liam’s favorite out of all the women that were there for him. It was so fucking obvious. This wasn’t going to be like Leo’s social season where there were women the prince clearly wasn’t interested in and who were fair game to approach, try and strike up some sort of connection. Not only was Liam absolutely going to give every woman here an opportunity to get to know him, but it was clear that at the end, the one woman Drake would actually be interested in hooking up with was going to be Liam’s pick. She’d charmed Liam from the first moment, and he was completely drawn to her since that night in New York.

The issue was that Drake had somehow been drawn into her charms too, and he couldn’t quite get her out of his head. It’s not that he even really liked her when it came down to it, so he didn’t quite get it. She was good looking, but so were plenty of the other women at court. They weren’t stuck in his head like she was though, with her mouth that always seemed to quirk into a wry little smile, her playful, teasing eyes, her insanely dark, thick hair. The hair he kept picturing his hands sinking into with her kneeling in front of him, those eyes staring up at him as she took him in her mouth. Those eyes fluttering shut, that mouth falling open, that hair fanned out on a pillow, as he drove into her. Countless fantasies that were an absolute pipe dream.

She was going to haunt him. He just knew it. She was trouble. She’d dressed up like a devil at the Masquerade Ball, for fuck’s sake. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe to stay the fuck away, he didn’t know what was. But instead of listening to every bit of common sense that told him to stop obsessing, all he could picture was how she’d looked in that dress. The way it clung to every curve and the lacy cutouts that gave him glimpses of the skin underneath. 

You don’t wear a dress like that if you aren’t fucking confident. Just another trait that sucked him in. But she was also intense as all get out, even though she put on this air of carefree playfulness. You could just tell that there was this fierceness to her. You didn’t go toe to toe with Olivia Nevrakis if you were some delicate little flower, after all. The way she’d just forced her way into Liam’s private tent at the Derby today just confirmed that she was tough, ready to fight for what she wanted. And that kind of intensity was hot.

But that intensity wasn’t directed at him. She was here for Liam. He’d watched her flirt with him. He’d seen them sneaking off at the Masquerade Ball. She was interested in his best friend, and his best friend was interested in her. There was no part for him to play here at all, other than keeping an eye out for her at Liam’s request. So he needed to get her out of his mind, his dreams, his fantasies. He needed to work through this insane attraction.

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Not only did he want to fuck her, but now he wanted to spend time with her. God, he was such a mess. But not only was she sexy and fierce and damn hot, but she was also funny and witty. And kind. And easy to talk to. Fuck, he liked being around her. He liked it way too much.

No sooner had he vowed to create some distance between him and her so he could get her out of his goddamn mind, then he’d found himself getting roped into some inane cronut run with her and Maxwell and Liam and Hana, one of the other suitors. And he’d enjoyed himself. Enjoyed her company.

To be fair, he’d kind of known she was funny before that mini adventure. She’d always been ready with a sarcastic comeback for whatever he’d thrown at her. Matched him shot for shot without getting offended or upset. Hell, her quip about getting thrown in princess jail nearly made him laugh out loud. But watching her outside the confines of the palace or official royal events was refreshing. He finally felt like he was getting a sense of who Riley Liu really was. And she was someone he wanted to get to know better.

He knew some things about her already. She was competitive, she’d made that much clear during their impromptu ski race. She was silly, joking with Maxwell constantly. She was energetic and just a little wild, often jumping into things seemingly on a whim, going as far as to fake a medical crisis to snag a bowl of soup. She was a chameleon of sorts, managing to blend in better than he would have thought possible. Better than he’d told her was possible. Hell, she was obviously a great problem solver, too. How she’d manage to pull off a decent Cordonian waltz in less than 24 hours he wasn’t sure, but it was impressive as fuck.

And then there was the way she’d unleashed her fury on Olivia when she was being an utter bitch to him about Savannah. Followed him out to make sure he was okay. Shared her craftily obtained soup with him and Hana. Not seemed to care at all that she’d been relegated to the outcast’s table. It was her own unique brand of kindness, one that seemed to have no regard for being polite or proper. Hell, she’d already bluntly called him out on shit more times than he could count. It just never felt mean-spirited. She just called things like she saw them and did what she thought was right. It was damn refreshing. He didn’t quite know what to make of her.

No, he had to stop thinking of her like this. She’d be just like the others in the end. Even if he liked spending time with her now, this place changed people. What had he been thinking, inviting her to the wine cellar? She wasn’t going to come, and even if she did, it was a bad idea. He needed her to ignore him, like everyone else always did. It was the only way this didn’t end in disaster. He just couldn’t bring himself to want her to blow him off. Damn, he was so screwed either way.

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So, he still wanted to have sex with her, but now he was sort of friends with her, too. How had he let this happen? This was a terrible situation. He knew how this story ended. The smart move would be to step back. Create some actual fucking distance here so he didn’t get gutted in the end.

But he wasn’t smart, apparently, because he kept finding it impossible to say no to her. Hell, he was finding it hard to say no to Maxwell because it was like saying no to her by proxy. It was a nightmare. He needed to shake her from his mind. It’s how he found himself helping at the Regatta, admiring the way her ass looked in those shorts as she actually pitched in, bustling around the ship. It’s how he found himself hanging out with her on the beach, trying to keep his hands from lingering when she asked him to help her get her back with sunscreen, trying to not react when her hands trailed across him to do the same. It’s how he found himself out on the dance floor at some stupid themed bar instead of drinking whiskey in the privacy of his room for his birthday. It was all because of her.

She was just being nice. She was a decent person, and she was being nice to him because he was Liam’s best friend. He repeated the mantra over and over again, trying to get his stubborn mind to give up on her. But she just had him wrapped around her little finger without even fucking trying. God, he was so fucking dumb. A couple months of telling himself he needed to put some distance between himself and this woman, and all he’d manage to do was find more and more ways to spend time with her. And now it was to the point where they were friends, or at least friendly. He’d already let this go too far. He needed to put an end to this as soon as fucking possible.

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He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to know he wasn’t alone in this. He couldn’t be the only one with feelings here, right? 

She obviously preferred Liam to him, but that didn’t mean she felt nothing for him. It just felt like there had to be something there. The way she would seek him out, chat with him, listen to him, sip whiskey with him, laugh with him. And sometimes when he caught her eye, the way she was looking at him… well, he finally felt like he was seen.

This was more than just some dumb crush or attraction. He felt so connected to her sometimes, it was almost unnerving. He felt like he was reaching his breaking point here. To feel so much, but to not be able to tell anyone or say or do anything about it was just the worst.

He knew he shouldn’t bring it up with her at all, but particularly not tonight. Not when she’d already had to deal with Tariq. His own lame emotional needs shouldn’t be another thing to be thrown at her at her at this point. But something about the way she’d insisted on checking on him, in spite of it all, it just crumbled the last of his resistance towards her. He just had to ask. He just had to know.

Because he didn’t know how he could feel so much, so many things he’d been fighting, if there wasn’t something on her end, too. And maybe knowing he wasn’t alone in this whole mess would make him feel a little less crazy. Losing your mind over your best friend’s woman was not as bad if she was doing the same, right?

Hell, who was he kidding? Whether or not she felt any sliver of anything beyond friendship and maybe pity for him, it didn’t fucking matter. No matter what she said, the end result wasn’t going to change. Their fate was set already. But even though Drake knew that was the case, he still felt like he needed to ask her. He just wasn’t sure what answer he wanted from her.

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If he thought he wanted her before, that was nothing, nothing compared to how he felt when their lips met. This was more than he ever could have hoped for, but somehow was nowhere near enough. His hands were everywhere he could reach. She was clutching him so tightly it was almost painful. Things were so desperate, so wild.

Their clothing was the only thing between them and bad decisions and regret. Or at least even worse decisions than the ones they were making right now as their tongues slid past each other. It would be the easiest thing in the world to drop his jeans to the ground, tug her clothes aside, and give in to what he’d wanted for so long now. What apparently she wanted too. He’d have her up against the wall in five seconds, crying out, clawing at his back.

But as good as that would feel in the moment, it wasn’t right. She was here for Liam. He’d be proposing very soon. And if Drake let this go any further, not only would he be the world’s shittiest friend, but he’s pretty sure it would be even harder to let go of his feelings for her.

He wasn’t going to be able to fuck her and walk away. There was no getting her out of his system. If he gave in now, he would only tumble deeper under her spell. And that was something he needed to prevent.

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He just wanted to see her again, but without that look of shock and violation and pain etched across her face. Without her being dragged away from everyone and everything, being treated like scum of the earth for something that wasn’t her fault.

He’d been selfish with her. He knew he didn’t deserve anything from her, no matter how much he wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to be with her, to love her. She deserved Liam and the kingdom that came with him. And he swore if by some miracle, by the grace of any of the deities that he didn’t believe in, she came back into his life, he’d make her life better. He’d be whatever she needed him to be. Friend. Advocate. Sounding board. A friendly ear when she needed to vent. He’d be there.

It had been too much to want her for himself, he saw that now. But if he could help her, make her feel better in any way, shape, or form… well, that would be a worthwhile course for him. He just wanted to do his part to bring any happiness he could to her life.

He’d wanted to follow her, to be there for her, to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Liam was right, though. He needed to keep some space to keep her safe in light of everything that had been thrown at her. He just wished there was a way to be there for her, as a friend. It didn’t feel right, letting her face this shitstorm on her own, but he couldn’t figure out another way. He’d just need to make it up to her if he was ever so lucky as to see her face again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wanted to take her away from it all, from this world of lies and deception and shitty assholes. He wanted to take her where it would just be him and her and no other distractions. No bitchy blondes who threw things in her face with sadistic glee. No Beaumont brothers who either knocked up sisters or hid sisters in foreign cities.

She claimed she wanted the same things, but she never made any move to actually leave it all behind. It was probably one of those things that sounded good in theory to her, but that you’d never actually do because you knew deep down it was a big mistake. She could still wind up with Liam and become queen, after all. It wasn’t an option at the moment, but she probably was hoping for that in the future.

He wanted to believe her fully when she talked about their future, but he knew if he took things further with her now, she’d regret it later. Her isolation, her pain, the mud that had been slung at her hung over her head, so Drake knew he couldn’t take that next step with her, to sleep with her, while everything was still so up in the air. Sure, it would make both of them feel great in the moment, but it would lead to so much pain going forward. A temporary reprieve with long-term consequences for both of them and their relationships with Liam. 

He didn’t want her to feel rejected. He wanted her to know he wanted every part of her with every part of himself. Mind. Body. Soul. Spirit. But he needed to draw a line in the sand. They couldn’t take this all the way and walk away unscathed. So he needed to keep his mind clear, even as she stripped down to her underwear and leaned over the pool table, testing every damn fiber of his resolve. If they were going to do this, he needed to wait until it could be real.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wanted him. Not Liam. Not anyone else. She chose him, and a couple days later, he could still barely wrap his head around it. 

He didn’t fully know how to process this information. He’d never been in this position before. But he knew he had to do this right. He couldn’t screw this up. Not with her. Not when she was everything. 

He was scared. Scared of not being enough. Of not living up to her expectations. Of coming on too strong or not showing that he loved her enough. There were so many ways this could all go wrong, and he already felt like he’d stretched his luck to the max by having her want him in the first place.

But as she gently brushed her hand against his and gave him a warm smile, her dark eyes clear and bright, he knew he owed her facing this overwhelming wave of emotions. Because if she wanted to take a chance on him, well then it was time for him to embrace this next step with her.

As they wandered out of the ballroom, drinks in hand, vaguely meandering towards her bedroom, he felt a strange blend of calm and anxious simultaneously. The desire was there for both of them, that much was clear. And after waiting so long, after wanting her for so long, Drake wanted to make sure she understood how much this meant to him. How much she meant to him. He also wanted it to be good for her, for the whole thing to be worth the wait. He wanted her calling out his name over and over, toppling over that edge again and again. So yeah, there were some nerves in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t some casual hookup. But at the same time, he could see how long they’d both been inching towards this. In a strange way, it felt inevitable, even though he never dreamed it was a possibility. 

This was right. This felt real and sturdy and purposeful. It couldn’t have happened earlier, and neither of them wanted to wait any longer. They needed to have this moment tonight. There was no other time that felt so perfect and right. Things had changed between them, but that was what they’d been heading to for a long time at this point. And while there was no going back once they closed her bedroom door and lost themselves in each other, that was kind of the point. They both wanted to take this chance.

Permatag: @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie @octobereighth  

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic  

Event: @choicesfebruarychallenge​

[retphienix]

Beware! I’m gonna use this moment to push my evolving theory on Square story writing!

So in the past I’ve said I feel square, more often than not, writes poor stories and then tells them very well so that the end result is often better than average if not memorable enough to be something we hold in higher regard than it possibly deserves.

I’m not one to agree with that theory in its totality and think I was being an edgy asshole at the time.

Being contrarian for the sake of it and desperate to sound smart in a field I love dearly.

And I drop that theory down now purely to discredit myself and admit I was wrong. I do think a lot of Square stories hold up remarkably well and they’ve done some things that make me believe that when they want to tell a grand tale, they will- and when they want to tell a fair tale that works for the game they wanted to craft, they will, and tearing those entries apart for not being masterpieces of literary art is, well, fucking stupid of past me and reeks of pretention.

Is it unfair to give every story a deep dive to see if it holds more water than a cursory glance implies? Nah, but it might be unfair to say they were poorly conceived just because they weren’t deeper than they appeared.

Things like most Final Fantasy games being kinda simple, or holding silly or “unrealistic” plot points, or failing to expand an interesting idea that’s brought up isn’t purely a bad thing, and doesn’t mean the rest can’t hold it up despite that. Hell, in a good amount of cases those ‘complaints’ are actually on the things that make those entries stand out or IMPROVE the story- it’s just one of those things.

So let me say something a bit differently that’s more specific to THIS game.

Square, in this case, wrote a pretty fucking stupid story that lacks impact left and right and has conveniences and stupid as dirt characters.

And it works. Maybe not perfectly, I mean it’s not MY favorite square story at all, it has some REALLY cookie cutter plot moments- but- it works- and more importantly than that-

MORE IMPORTANTLY than it just working- it occasionally plays with the fact they built a world like this to make great moments happen.

I mean this is the same game that has interesting as hell background lore on remnants AND USES IT FOR THE PLOT- it just does so after doing a lot of silly stuff with its cast.

All to say, this is one of those payoff moments. One of those moments that really only works because of the rest of the game- despite, no, BECAUSE the rest of the game built up these silly quirks that constantly seemed “lacking” or “out of place”.

The ENTIRE game we’ve watched Rush be so dense and stupid and borderline convinced of his own immortality- he’s spent the whole game being that “I’m young protagonist so I’ll never die and never lose!!!!” guy- and it’s always been a bit out of place when shown things like the remnant nuke event with Irina or his “gruff backstory” being that he was a kinda-but-only-barely shit brother one time or whenever he’s around during a major political moment.

Rush has been out of place this entire game, and this scene plays off that, this scene takes that as a payoff of character growth by having his reckless optimism become contagious and spread to the others.

THEY DID THE THING! THAT WRITING THING! CHARACTER GROWTH, BUILD UP AND PAYOFF! BUT WITH A DUMB CHARACTER BUT TURNED IT INTO A GOOD PAYOFF!!

That takes some skill!

And again, this ain’t a masterpiece moment, but it informs me that more of the previous gameplay was by design than might have initially seemed- OR they recognized their weak spots and took the time to twist them into strengths.

Just like Rush’s “I’m too dumb to consider nuance and consequences, let’s just do the GOOD thing” mentality is a potentially flawed one- and CAN be a weakness- it’s turned into a strength. In the story this is because of his companions steering him a bit, and a similar thing seemed to have happened on the dev’s side of things.

NEAT STUFF!

Oh and also I just really enjoyed this scene. Put a smile on my face. Had a moment where Rush says the obvious thing and everyone goes “WHAT!?” and a silly thing where both Wagram and the God Emperor are so lost in faith that they are allowing the physical embodiment of colonialism run rampant because he “deserves” it since he was born in a special chair (which is my way of saying “is a remnant”).

And all that isn’t left as is, it’s presented as the blind loyalty failure of those that came before Dave or Rush’s generation- so we get an uplifting scene of everyone deciding “Actually, fuck that! Rush is right!” and it’s just, good stuff :)