#dont ask me why there's a column there okay i just like columns

[densewentz]

i call her a juvenile desert shortsnout and she's unhappily waiting for a parent to return home with snacks

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

@setsuna-meiou31

@kateris-world

@unatempesta-dipensieri

@jspidey5

@lyrixsnape

@bbykens

@johnmurphys-sass

@rockymiles

@joshysloshy

@luckylightcosplay

@melmel-fandom

@whosiris

@yu-87

@chalkoutljnes-blog

@ameliachastain

@eatmyshortsz666

@alexisabirdie

@snifellus

@roxy366

@stainedglasscrystals

@sojantrouxao

@mariaeatsworms

@cheri-cheri-cherry

@lizziebitch33

@dreamybxnny

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@daydreamer-and-booklover

@daemonwhitedove

@yoongjennie88

@aureum-lepus

@lolwey

@alanalanalanalanalanna

@dystopiaincognito

@rye-flower

[t0rturedangel]

╭ ☆ ➛ South park x reader Ꞌꞌ : masterlist

━ warnings / notes ; NSFW will only be written for the post covid versions of these guys and or aged up AU. I might forget to add some stories on here so just lemme know , also heads up my nsfw is shit asf, also for some characters i will outright refuse to write nsfw for, thats why they dont have a nsfw column ♡ :) if you do ask me for a nsfw of those characters your request will be deleted ( this has happened already )

DOVAHKIIN / NEW KID - ✮ • ━ " . . . "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

STANLY MARSH - ✮ • ━ " Hey babe, y'know i uh love you, right ? "

[ SFW ]

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ first kisses

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ Perfection and her protector

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ periods

[ NSFW ]

. . .

KYLE BROFLOVSKI - ✮ • ━ " Dont worry, i'll stick by your side "

[ SFW ]

[ fem reader ] ━ fluff ━ Jealousy

[ gn reader ] ━ fluff ━ Under the covers

[ gn reader ] ━ fluff ━ Next to be wed

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ first kisses

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ Perfection and her protector

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ periods

[ NSFW ]

. . .

ERIC CARTMAN - ✮ • ━ " Oh! Yeah! Beat them ass ! Thats my bitch ! "

[ SFW ]

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ first kisses

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ Perfection and her protector

[ NSFW ]

[ plus size gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ rabbi / homeless cartman (sfw + nsfw)

KENNETH MCCORMICK - ✮ • ━ " mPHF !! Mfph mmm HMMMMMFF ! "

[ SFW ]

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ first kisses

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ Perfection and her protector

[ NSFW ]

. . .

LEOPOLD 'BUTTERS' STOTCH - ✮ •

━ " Im sorry baby ! I cant come out to day, 'm grounded "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

SCOTT MALKINSON - ✮ • ━ " Wow . . . so this is the feeling of being loved "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

CRAIG TUCKER - ✮ • ━ " They're assholes [ name ], i dont want you to be around assholes "

[ SFW ]

[ child gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ parental Creek

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ Perfection and her protector

[ child gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ the little craig

[ NSFW ]

. . .

TWEEK TWEAK - ✮ • ━ " ACK- [ name ] d-dont leave me h- here ! I DONT KNOW T-THESE PEOPLE ! "

[ SFW ]

[ child gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ parental Creek

[ child gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ the little craig

[ NSFW ]

. . .

CLYDE DONOVAN - ✮ • ━ " Here, babe , have my jacket ! "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

JIMMY VALMER - ✮ • ━ " Hey [ name ] why did the chicken cross the r-r-r-roa-r ... why did the chicken cross the r-r-ro-roa ... "

[ SFW ]

[ fem reader ] ━ hcs ━ periods

TIMMY BURCH - ✮ • ━ " TIMMAH ! "

[ SFW ]

. . .

TOLKIEN BLACK - ✮ • ━ " Do you like that thing? I can buy it for you "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

WENDY TESTABURGER - ✮ • ━ " If anyone messes with you, just let me know okay ? "

[ SFW ]

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ just fluff

[ gn reader ] ━ hcs ━ a s/o who likes cute things

[ NSFW ]

. . .

BEBE STEVENS - ✮ • ━ " Ohhh! [ name ] wanna know what i heard in the school's toilets today?! "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

HEIDI TURNER - ✮ • ━ " Thanks for letting me stay over [ name ] , i appreciate it "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

THE OTHER KIDS / ADULTS ( The goths, Pip, parents in divorce times, ect ) - ✮ • ━ " (what do i even put here?) "

[ SFW ]

. . .

[ NSFW ]

. . .

[sunlightfeeling]

SMAP 総選挙！

smapxsmap: 2011.8.29

総選挙 or Sōsenkyo (“general election”) is a concept used by AKB48, in which the members with the most votes will participate in the recording of the next single src

more context on episode ⬇️

putting it out now: im ignoring the last column because 1) i think it might be the easiest for folks to readily understand? but more importantly 2) i dont really understand the little details like takuya’s gesturing, and what akb48 is totally against doing, and the whole 中P thing other than maybe being a YamaPi joke(???)

okay moving on!

1st Column) “Who would you go to the beach with?” Takuya wins for pretty obvious reasons. Everyone fakes a temper tantrum (except Nakai because he’s mature) even though none of them actually like the ocean all that much. Goro gets third, and then Takuya calls him out for always using a parasol at the beach after Goro says he likes going to it 😔

2nd column) “Who would you date?” Tsuyoshi immediately asks to start from third place because the man loves a tension builder. They talk about dating and whether it’s okay if the guys reject them if they’re top-ranked, I think? And then Tsuyoshi makes a snarky comment that I don’t quite understand (I think it’s something like idols aren’t allowed to date so it’s all completely fine/whatever? lol)

3rd and 2nd ranks are the same as the last column; Goro was chosen because….well, she actually can’t remember (im serious, the member says she doesn’t remember why she chose him which is why Takuya basically collapses lmfao). Shingo was chosen because he seems fun and his private life seems interesting(?). Tsuyoshi’s getting antsy at his impending loss, considering the stats are against him. So, cue Nakai calming him down and they agree that their partners or something, no matter what happens.

And so then the reveal…

(sorry i stopped genuinely trying after this point i just wanted to post the clip asap 🥺)

insert Pon pog

Nakai basically accuses Tsuyoshi of cheating on him cuz of the face he’s making and Tsuyoshi doesn’t even bother to deny it and says he’s moving up in the world.

Reasons why Tsuyoshi was chosen: he’s very kind, natural/authentic, surprisingly interesting (Tsuyoshi basically says “still counts! it still counts!!”), and because he’s non-confrontational/pacifist (Tsuyoshi commentary “Everything is peaceful when you don’t have a brain”)

Anddd then the bottom two are revealed, Nakai dead-last again. Which makes him become very self-conscious that he looks pretty fucking unappealing to the female gaze (no you don’t babygirl, you’re a star to me). And asks “couldn’t you all just swapped the order so that I don’t look so terrible?! 😭”

3rd column) “Who would you want as a teacher/mentor?” Nakai just about cries because after all that bitching, now he’s top-ranked. Takuya gets dead last because he probably goofs off more than he teaches.

valid results tbh 🙂‍↕️

[sweet-thangman]

hey pretty boy too proud to say hi now that you’re whoring around with the prince?

you never respond to my hi’s. not politely at least…

doesn’t mean i don’t enjoy ignoring them. 

oh my apologies then… good evening jason…

…

as expected. goodnight, my good knight…

okay, okay, hello? shouldn’t you be helping clean up the ball?

shouldn’t YOU be helping clean up the ball? it’s YOUR engagement.

i’m on watch here? every night?

you know… your view of the hallway is completely obstructed by that column.

the only thing i’d have to miss behind that would have to be even smaller than you. 

i’m not THAT small. 

oh yeah? come get it…

HEY GIVE THAT BACK!!!  I DONT HAVE TIME FOR… DEMEANING CHILDISH GAMES! 

i suppose where you’re standing is… acceptable… i just was trying to be helpful.

hmph. word at the ball was that you left to chase the prince… i didn’t think he was your type. 

he’s actually an ex-ex prince…

wish he was the ex-ex-ex prince.

THAT’S TREASONNNN!

like the king hasn’t had the exact same thought… what’re you doing around his harem? i thought you at least cared about doing your job in addition to everyone else’s. 

people can have a sense of duty without sacrificing ALL semblance of fun. 

drinking until you pass out and sleeping in a strangers bed doesn’t seem like fun to me. 

and what would you consider fun? having the same dreary job for 8 years in a row?

9 years actually.

9 years. positively thrilling if you ask me… y’know, if you wanted to join, you could just ask.

i have a fiancée!— also, i don’t want to!!

mhm.

Good day sir here are the knights letters what do i look like an errand boy deliver them yourself fine just thought youd want to deliver them to your friends guess ill just have to go over there and tell them what a wonderful friend you are to me fine give em here oh my engagement present how is it oh um its really good actually thank you the guy who writes them is great at what he does i already have birds of the southern isles and finches around the world but i've never had an illustrated one before though mustve cost a fortune oh it was nothing im so happy youre enjoying it might be the best engagement present ive gotten the king got me a sword with his coat of arms on the pommel which is nice but its also what he got me for my graduation and im not really sure what to do with two swords wow im honored if we ever visit the provinces i can show you all the birds in real life im never gonna visit the northern provinces im needed here well i grew up in the north as a kid my memories not the sharpesg in the world but i could try and describe what they were like youre from the north i never wouldve guessed you seem like you sprang right into being a fully formed courtier well thank you i moved here when i was 7 so i had time to learn the ropes and lose my accent how about you oh uh well i was born in a nearby town i think or the king thinks im an orphan but ite completely fine i have a better life here than i could ever dream of with the king taking care of me and a job i love a job im good at so not as interesting as you thats way more interesting im glad you found a home here yeah are you in love with maya did she put you up to this she said we'd talk about this later no i swear im sorry if its a touchy subject no its fine i of course im in love with maya we're engaged id be the biggest fool in the world if i wasnt in love with her right i wouldnt know dont you fool around with a lot of guys i thought youd have figured out love by now thats nowher enear love sometimes if i want something from someone and they want a little intimacy in return well why would i turn thay down you shouldnt i mean you cant its not a currency you can exchange why not im cute even worse you have to use it responsibilty how do you know they dont think its love i dont wanna contaminate your big knightly brain

Sorry i did that all from memory i think a lot of that is wrong anyways JASONLOUIS IM CRYING GG O,,,,,...MMLL

[bucket-of-f1]

im so excited to send things here i have SO many things to ask..

first (and im going to say this in way more words than i need to.. but idk how to not yap) why do older f1 cars look so much harder to control than modern ones?

f1 cars' steering and controllability seem to have smoothed out a ton in the 00s (could be wrong bc i dont watch a lot of onboards regrettably.. but thats my recollection) and in the present day it feels like almost every movement of the steering wheel is exactly what the driver intends for the car to move. but if you look at older onboards like even as recent as senna and alesi in the 90s, its like theyre wrangling a bull by the horns!! its like the car is this wild animal the driver has to keep at bay, the drivers hands on the wheel are wibblewobbling back and forth like crazy throughout every turn and it looks like they have the most insane reflexes on the planet in order to keep the car on track. it blows my mind every time!

so anyways what created that change in how manageable the car is? does it have anything to do with tyre or engine or balance changes, is it just new innovations in the steering column, is it just having the luxury of power steering?????????? even if you dont have a solid idea on the answer to this id LOVE love love to see what you think, and im souper excited to watch this acc grow :3 random super detailed extremely miniscule historical f1 fact blog sounds like actual heaven to me so i hope you have fun with it and keep filling my brain with nifty stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For some background, I didn’t have the time for a massive massive deep dive on this but I’m doing my best from memory and also I do go and check some of the more specific things I throw in.

Okay, so there’s a few things you gotta think about with this:

Engines

Tires

Aerodynamics

Electronic systems

Let's go down the list.

Engines have changed a lot over the years. The further back you go, the more wild the engines get, and the rules shift all the time. V10, V12, V16, turbos, rocket fuel, shifts in how much fuel can be used at a time, shifts in whether they could refuel (both of these could make cars heavy or light to a massively varying degree wildly affecting handling over the course of just a lap), etc.

Tires have also changed. At one point there was more than one manufacturer of tires (remind me to tell y'all about that one US Grand Prix). At one point there was like five or six compounds, including a "supersoft" built for insane lap times. For a while there in the 1990's-2010's we ran grooved tires, no slicks. Imagine everyone always using intermediates. That would affect grip levels like crazy. (does everyone know how F1 tire compounds work? maybe I should write about that)

As aero restrictions change, the downforce levels shift to an unprecedented degree. There was a time where there as technically no limit on how many wings a car could have, leading to some very interesting double wing, mini wing, and no-wing cars all racing at the same time. No-wing cars died out pretty fast once the benefits of wings became obvious, but it did happen. Peugeot ran the 9X8, a car with no rear wing, in the WEC LMH (Le Mans Hypercar) category for a little quite recently. Like, 2022-recently.

Anyway, the downforce changes definitely affect handling

The last, and most important, is electrical systems. The thing about those is that they change all the time. Sometimes, power steering as allowed, sometimes it wasn't. Assisted Braking Systems? Occasionally. Active suspension? Not anymore.

If you do go watch onboards, you'll see driving styles change with the cars. Nowadays, the style is a very smooth turn, no jerky or sudden movements of the wheel unless they've saving a slide. This is due to a combination of all those factors above -- it's just he driving style that fits the current restrictions. If you look in the 2000's you see the style get WAY more jerky, with micro-adjustments all the time.

As you noted (you being the lovely perfect amazing anon who asked a question, like the lovely perfect amazing anon that you are), in the 1980's and further back yes those cars we're absolute NIGHTMARE'S to control. If you watch Lewis Hamilton’s drive of Senna’s McLaren at São Paulo this year, you’ll notice the camera attached to the car bounces like crazy. The cars just weren’t the most stable — everyone had nailed down that power-to-weight ratio, but the fast-evolving and quickly-restricted aerodynamics innovations led to a bit of a mess on the downforce end of things. AND, they were still using stickshifts, and if you get far back enough it was H pattern shifting instead of sequential.

Imagine driving a V12 turbocharged rocketship on wheels and barely enough downforce with ONE HAND because you're trying to upshift out of a chicane while fending off some Brazilian kid on a warpath to take the world championship before the age of 30.

In the rain.

[southcodes]

hi, skye!! smth's rly weird w/ your 'prehistoric' page and if someone's already brought this to your attention, i apologize, it's just smth i noticed when i previewed the page on my laptop. so: there are two columns when i have a small display (1280 x 800), but on bigger ones (my default is 1440 x 900), there are three columns... and they're squished together w/ no gap :(( is there anything you can do to fix it?

Anonymous asked: (prehistoric anon again) okay, so i just checked on opera gx and safari, and the page is fine there, so idk why firefox is acting like this >:((

hmm i checked the preview i have up on firefox and it looks fine to me, is there any way you could send me a link to your page? i wont post it if you dont want me to!

[roseyanon]

(via message from @ggreeeenheart)

"Okayokay. SO. Let's start by looking at this section:

We know that for this little 3x3, that the two circled squares can only have a 3 or a 4 in them, right?

So if one of them is a 3, then we Know the other HAS to be a 4, and vice-versa.

If the one on the Left just so happens to be a 3, and we look at the column above it...

We know none of the ones in this circled column can be a 3, which means the only 3 possible here would be...:

Here!

Recap; we've got two squares that are either a 3 or a 4. If one happens to be a 3, then we know the one circled right here ALSO has to be a 3.

But funny story. If that left square happens to be a 4 instead, the same thing happens. The one circled above can only be a 4.

Following me so far? :P

Kinda hard to explain over text lmao

- - - - - - I'm putting a break here so it's easier to ask me questions in case I'm not explaining it clearly XP

- - - - - -

Okay. So then what?

Well, we've figured out that if the left square happens to be 3, that top square *has* to be 3. And if that left square happens to be 4, that top square *has* to be 4.

And there are no other options for that left square!

Which means... there aren't any other options for that top square, either.

We can rule out the 5.

So now your notes should look a bit more like this.

- - - - - Why is this important?

Because now we can use a trick I really like to use- and I think you might have been using already??

Looking at the 3x3 in this picture, we can see right away that the only two places a 5 can be is in that Left Column.

Which very literally means it *has* to be in that column...

...which means a 5 can't be *anywhere else* in that column.

Do you see where I'm going with this yet? :)

- - - - - Okay! I *think* that's enough for you to make some more good headway!!

Please feel free to ask me questions about ANY of this, and sorry I turned it into a school lesson instead of just pointing it out lol

This one was hard for me to spot but was fun for me to try and explain. Normally I would have waited until I knew you were following along but I'm kinda hungry and knew I was gonna forget if I didn't write it xD

but man for a second there i was nervous i wasnt gonna find anything at all lmao

please dont feel shy or embarrassed if anything i wrote here doesn't make sense, you clearly did well enough that you WOULD get what I'm saying once I explained it well enough lolol

this is a tough one and you made some seriously good progress

(Also. like. guessing is a valid strategy too! sometimes you just get stuck and gotta say "well what would happen if I did This?")"

=-=-=

hey ggreen thank you for the message! sudoku is surprisingly fun to talk about x3 i had to paste your messages in a post so i could see all the text and the images in one go lol, let me know if you would rather i not have your DM posted :) as for the message itself...

dude no lie i had to read your message like 5 times before i got what you were saying xD my brain kept jumping ahead and not ACTUALLY reading what you were saying lol. so it seems the key was an sort of ADVANCED hidden pair situation, taking into account multiple boxes. (i wonder if there's a name for that kinda arrangement?) even with your help, i still... dont quite get it. i removed some of my notes cause i thought 5 could only be one box, then rereading for a SIXTH time realized i got rid of the wrong bits @_x ack. i guess im gonna have to give up on this one. especially considering i tried guessing based on the initial 3/4 boxes and i STILL i didnt get a solution. (im assuming my dyslexia swapped shit around again. it's why i have to play sudoku online and not on pen and paper.)

still, im enjoying the struggle, even if i spend a literal two days on one puzzle and STILL dont manage to solve it xD

[etherrreal]

“the things you do for charity”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: kenma's always been a private person, but it was getting increasingly harder to keep his partner off his streams while you live together; so, he decided to join his two loves together for a 24-hour charity stream extravaganza. Word Count: 3,408 Warnings: some swearing, i suppose there are some spoilers from the manga about adult kenma's job? A/N: i'd give my left tit to play some minecraft or mario kart with kenma tbh -Luna

Kenma's career as a popular streamer was one of the many facets of him that shocked you when you’d started dating two years ago. The two of you had first met in an Animal Crossing discord for your city meant for trading and making friends.

After you had gone over to his island to adopt Raymond from him, he let you keep all of your Nook Mile Tickets with the stipulation that you kept in contact with him to "give him updates" about how the cat villager was doing in his new home. His dorky way of trying to flirt with you was what made you pursue him in the first place, and somehow it had led to a very fulfilling relationship.

It was revealed early on that he was a streamer, but he never expanded on it regarding the actual numbers. Curiosity got the best of you one night, and you decided to google him. Besides also learning that he was a YouTuber, you found yourself in awe at the numbers he managed to accumulate across all of his social media.

And if that wasn’t enough, he was also apparently the CEO of his own business.

Once you moved in together around the one-year mark of your relationship, you got to properly witness the amount of work put into streaming and maintaining a social media presence. This also meant that you got to read the wild comments that were left on all of his platforms–and see the occasional surprise nude picture whenever he opened up his DMs around you.

Because of this, Kenma sat you down to have a conversation about your potential appearance on his social media. You both decided by the end of it that his audience would get to know that he was in a committed relationship, but you agreed it would be best to not show your face or reveal any identifying information of yours.

It had been a year since having that conversation, and you’d both stuck to the agreement closely. The most his audience had ever seen of you was your hand whenever you refilled his water bottle for him.

Of course, it was hard sometimes, especially when you had to remain extra quiet around the house and refrain from yelling out a 'baaaabe' whenever you needed something from him, but since he had his own soundproof office, it lessened the room for any accidental error.

Overall, you were content with never showing your face to his audience for the rest of his career. You knew how nasty the internet could get because of their parasocial relationships with influencers and streamers alike, especially when they discovered those influencers and streamers had a partner who wasn't them, even if they knew they never had a chance. You weren't sure your skin was thick enough to deal with rabid angry stans.

Which is why it was so shocking when Kenma decided one day to nix the agreement.

You were in your shared bedroom answering some emails when he came in. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and tied-up hair; his typical look for a stream.

After some time, you noticed that he was still standing in the doorway, not saying anything. When you glanced up at him, you found him awkwardly toying with the strands of hair that had fallen out of his bun, looking down at the ground like he was just waiting for you to notice him.

"Is there something you need, baby?" you asked. "You're just standing there all adorably shy."

"Yeah, so, um, I'm going to be doing a 24-hour stream this weekend to raise money for charity."

"Oh, really? Cool! I guess that means I'll be going to bed alone that night," you joked.

"Yeah, I guess. Um..." He started before scrunching up his face like he was uncomfortable with what he planned to say next.

"What is it? Do you need me to stock up on snacks and energy drinks? Just send me a list. I can pick  them up tomorrow."

"No, that's not it. I was thinking of making a stretch goal be you coming on stream so we can play Minecraft or Mario Kart or something...I mean, I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable. I could always replace it with something else. I know they've been wanting to see me dye my hair a bright color and dress up like an e-boy, so--"

"Really!?" you nearly yelled.

"What? That they want me to dress like an e-boy? Yeah, Kuroo said it would–"

"No, I mean..." You tried to fight the confused expression that was growing on your face, but your squinted eyes gave you away. "You really want me on your stream? Like face and all?"

"....Yeah, I really want to be able to share this with you. But don't feel like you have to do it just to make me happy."

It was a large ask when looking at the full picture. Kenma had his fair share of fans and "stans" who lacked boundaries, as seen from a select few who visited your home several times this year, or the handful that found you on social media already just from seeing a glimpse of your college ring on the hand wrapped around Kenma's water bottle.

There could be a chance you could receive direct hate on your social media just because you were a person who dated a popular streamer. You would then be in the public eye with little privacy and have a magnifying glass on all of your actions and words. Anything you did would then reflect on Kenma.

What if you messed something up and then Kenma lost viewers? Would they try to cancel you or him for it?

You backed away from all the negative thoughts before you could spiral and looked at the metaphorical 'pro' column.

If you agreed to appear on his stream, you would no longer have to sneak around your house in fear of being heard or showing up in his face cam. You both wouldn't have to feel guilty playing games off-camera with each other because you knew Kenma could be streaming it instead.

And who knew? Maybe his fans would like you. You had to admit, it would be a nice ego boost knowing that you were accepted by so many people.

And, most importantly: you could physically ask him in person what he wanted for dinner instead of texting him and waiting an hour for a break so he could respond, while you sat in the next room, starving, stuck in an endless cycle of wondering whether you should make a snack or if you should just hold off for dinner.

Maybe this was a good idea.

"Okay,” you decided, “I'll do it."

"Oh... alright. Cool." Kenma was trying his hardest not to show how excited he was that you agreed. When he saw the contemplative look on your face, he was sure you would decide that it'd just be too much work and say no. But hearing you agree made him giddier than he would ever admit to.

Despite the cool and collected façade he thought he was putting on, you saw the smile that threatened to break through and the red tips of his ears. You wondered if he felt the same weight being lifted off his shoulders as you did, knowing that, after this weekend, you'd both be finally out as an official couple to the world.

And, of course, the nausea of having to do all of it live in front of thousands of people. No biggie.

Saturday afternoon came and at 12pm sharp, Kenma began his grueling 24-hour charity stream. The bar had an overall goal of $150,000, and it began filling up at a constant pace right from the start. Donations ranging from $5 to $500 were flowing in rapidly, and you were trying your best not to feel nervous.

You both agreed that if he reached $50,000 within 5 hours, you would join him for an hour or two of Minecraft later that night. Part of you hoped that the donations would slow down and plateau for a bit, but when you saw Kuroo had donated $1000, specifically with the message that he hoped to see you on stream soon, you realized that it was a pipe dream.

So, you had to be your own hype person for now, to get prepared to show your face to thousands of people and not disappoint Kenma.

Whether it was the promise of your face reveal or the people who genuinely adored charity, it took only four hours for Kenma to break $50,000.

When he saw the number update live on stream, the viewers witnessed the most amount of expression Kenma had ever shown: eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape, body frozen. You could see the gears struggling inside his head struggling to turn and comprehend what they all managed to do so early on in the stream.

"Thanks so much, everyone, for being so generous today... I guess this means we'll be having my partner on later tonight," he announced. You watched his chat explode with excitement, his special emotes flying in the chat.

You picked up your phone to shoot Kenma a quick text.

[you]:: hope you're ready to put our minecraft beds together in front of thousands of people 😏

Unsurprisingly, he left you on read. But dating him for this long meant you weren't even a little bit afraid of double or triple texting.

[you]:: maybe we can kiss under the light of an exploding creeper 😫

[you]:: or have a romantic walk through our rainbow sheep while a phantom looms overhead 🥰

It was after the third text when you finally saw him pick up his phone to text you back. You eagerly awaited his response, only to cackle when you read it.

[my sugar daddy]:: im going to replace you with hinata as my partner if you dont stop

Instead of annoying him any further, you set your phone to charge on your nightstand and went into the bathroom to get ready for the stream later.

Once you emerged, you picked up your phone to check the percentage and noticed a text from Kenma stating that he'd have you on at 8pm. You decided to spend the time until then cooking up some dinner for the both of you.

It seemed like time flew by because by the time you were done eating your food, it was 7:45pm. Only fifteen more minutes before you were live in front of all of Kenma's supporters. You refilled your water bottle and sat on the couch, staring at the blank T.V. as you practically dissociated from reality until Kenma came out of his office to retrieve you.

You noticed that he looked just as nervous as you did, despite his face not showing it the way yours did. His shoulders were up to his ears with tension, and his hoodie drawstring was pulled almost all the way through due to him fiddling with it.

He turned briefly to you after he brought you into his office, gesturing to make sure you knew to wait until he gave you the cue. He sat down, unmuted himself, and took down the 'away' screen he had for his audience.

This was it. Everything was going to change in literally ten seconds.

"Well, everyone...please welcome my partner, (Y/N)."

You walked cautiously around his large gaming chair and sat next to him in your modest desk chair that he had rolled into the room for the occasion.

Okay, you thought to yourself, now don't fuck this up.

"Hi, everyone."

Nailed it.

There was a painful moment of silence before the stream finally caught up, and you both heaved a sigh of relief when you saw nothing but declarations of excitement. Amongst the 'AHHHs' and spam of emotes were sweet comments about your appearance and how cute you two looked as a couple. You peeked over at Kenma and saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, elated to know that he was just as relieved as you were.

"Okay, let's start with the gameplay while we answer some questions," he said.

The questions and gameplay started out mild; when did you both start dating, how did you meet, who asked the other out first. They even asked a few simple questions about you specifically, like your favorite anime and your star sign. And while you did see a few bans in the chat after some inappropriate questions –no, you will not tell them the color of your underwear– most were easy and simple enough to answer.

Then they started to get a bit spicier.

"Bokutoslefttit donated $69.69 and asked, 'what is your main pet peeve with Kenma?'" he read, muttering a 'wow' under his breath at the username.

"Ooh, how can I be polite when exposing you?" you pondered while beating a cow to death with your sword. "It's probably how loud he gets whenever he's playing games with his good headphones on."

"I don't get loud," he defended.

"Oh yeah, you do. I've had to come in here several times to tell you to shut up like I'm your mother. I did it literally two days ago when you were playing with Lev."

"... Next question."

You rolled your eyes at his lack of comment but glanced over at the chat to pull up a new question. You stifled a laugh when you read, "Girlboss420 asked 'who has a fatter ass, Kuroo or (Y/N)?'"

"I'm not answering that."

"Come oooon, this is a Q&A. Can't have the Q’s without the A’s."

"Nope."

You were about to start reprimanding him for implying that Kuroo's ass was fatter than yours when you noticed he ran past you with a group of pillagers following closely behind. You turned to head into the house but when you opened the door, you noticed it was blocked off by obsidian.

"You are the absolute worst!" you exclaimed.

You made a break for it, sprinting past the shooting pillagers and around to the front of the house. You made it inside with only 2 hearts to spare. You turned, in real life, to Kenma to see him tight-lipped to avoid smiling about his betrayal.

"I'm moving my bed downstairs for the rest of the stream."

You both carried on with the stream without another incident, turning to the chat every now and again to answer some questions. Kenma even apologized to you by bringing home a horse that was named "I'm sorry."

It was about an hour and a half after you sat down when Kenma decided that he needed a bathroom break. Your heart fell to your ass when you realized that you'd be all alone to entertain his chat. You considered saying that you needed to pee as well, if it meant not having the spotlight on you.

Instead, when he got up to pee, you smiled and asked him to bring you back a snack and a refill. Oh, how the turns have tabled.

In the meantime, you decided to scroll through the chat and some of the donations to pick out another question to answer since Kenma was gone. You were initially looking for a funny or vulgar comment when you saw one that had a completely different vibe.

"Kermithateblog donated $25.00 and asked, 'what's your favorite part about being with Kenma?' Wow, that's a really sweet question. Let me think for a moment."

You paused to reflect on your relationship with Kenma over the two years you’d been together. You'd had your fair share of highs and lows like any other couple, but, in the end, you both learned how to work things out so you were both equally as happy in the relationship.

"So, as you guys know, he's a busy boy with streaming, creating content for YouTube, and also being a CEO of his own company, which all takes up the majority of his time," you began. "But when he finally can shut off his screens and crawls into bed late at night, I know that he's 100% there with me at that moment. He is able to give me his undivided attention and make me feel like his love for me comes above his love for gaming."

You gave a pause, trying not to get too emotional. You rarely got the chance to gush about Kenma because you knew how much he hated having attention on him, so if this was going to be your only opportunity to do so for a while, then you were going to take it.

"What y'all don't know is that he is the biggest baby when it comes to cuddling," you laughed. "He is absolutely the little spoon most of the time, and he loves when I stroke his hair and love on him all night. In a weird way, it makes me feel special and loved knowing that he trusts me enough to be vulnerable with me. I cherish the amount of time we have together because of that."

What you didn't know was that he had come back from refilling your water bottle rather quickly and stood outside the doorway to hear your speech. His heart almost burst when he heard your tender words describing how he made you feel. He knew that you rarely got to hear how much those quiet moments at night meant to him because he was guarded with his feelings.

Which is why he started into the room on a mission.

You smiled as soon as you saw him. "Welcome back, babe, we were just talking about--"

He approached you swiftly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hardly even got to bask in the moment before he was pulling away, setting down your water bottle as he sat back down with his controller in hand like he didn't just expose to his audience how much of a softy he really was.

It was in that moment when you realized how glad you were that you’d decided to appear on stream because you'd be able to look back at that clip over and over again to relive the intimate moment.

Noon on Sunday came at last. Kenma would finally be free from the prison of his office. Not to mention he could finally get off his ass and stretch.

Between your official appearance on stream and the sign-off, you popped in a few more times to say hello to the chat when you brought him some snacks and drinks. You stayed up through most of the night, although you accidentally napped for a few hours during the dead of night which gave you a little boost in energy.

In the end, the stream was a monumental success. Kenma had even managed to blow past his goal of $150k and make it to over $200k, which meant that he'd be getting the full e-body makeover for his next week of streams.

By the time Kenma came into your bedroom after freshening up and having a small snack, you were already dead asleep with your laptop propped open to show his now offline stream.

He tip-toed around the bed quietly, closed your laptop, pulled the covers up and over your curled-up body, and slipped in himself. As he settled, he felt you shift and grab at his worn t-shirt, opening your eyes slightly just to confirm that it's him.

He pulled you against his chest tightly, his body finally able to relax. He was sure it wouldn't be too long before he completely fell out.

"That was more fun than I thought it'd be," he heard you utter quietly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." His fingers gently danced across your shoulder blades as you mushed your face into his clean shirt. "I can't believe we raised so much today so quickly."

"I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked so hard on this."

"I also donated $2000 anonymously to speed up the process," he mumbled sheepishly, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head in hopes to lessen the blow of his secret.

It was quiet for a moment, and he wondered if he’d genuinely pissed you off before he felt the vibrations from your laugh against his chest.

"...I can't wait to ruin your hair, e-boy."

Written by: Luna

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Hi! So now I'm thinking about this bakugou silent treatment after his rude comment what you mentioned in the last post. Maybe you could write more about it? Thanks, have a great day~

pls bc now that u’ve said it i’m absolutely gonna have thoughts

-so like, let’s be real, if ur bakugou’s s/o then ur his primary form of entertainment. he has friends but he doesn’t like them as much as he likes u, and it’ll be a hassle to get a hold of them, so he’ll always find u first when he wants a bit of social interaction. and pls he’s such a nerd who does nothing but eat, sleep, study, and train, so when he gets bored he is bored,, and he expects u to fix that

-this leads to, like i’ve said before, a lot of,, ummm choice comments coming out of his mouth. just rude shit that he’ll say just to get a reaction,, especially if you’re busy doing something else and don’t have time to pay him as much attention as he’d like

-some of his greatest worst rude comments include:

1.) “Why the fuck are you even looking at that textbook, we both know your dumbass can’t read.”

2.) “You breathe like a laboring dog.”

3.) “Stop doing that. You look like a fuckin’ idiot- more than normal.”

or,, that day’s absolute gem of a comment which was ✨“You’re so fuckin’ clingy, all the time, and I still put up with it; but now that I want something you’re just gonna ignore me? Frigid bitch.”✨

.... i- wow. you hate to see it

-so, ofc, you know he doesn’t mean it, especially with the challenging look and playful tone that goes along with it, but, still, after saying something as egregious as that, you elect to ignore him. completely. entirely. for as long as it takes for Bakugou to realize his words and apologize.

-spoiler alert: he doesn’t.

-an hour passes and he doesn’t even seem to care. which, is rlly a front he’s putting up, pretending to be aloof and unaffected, but he’s not.

-he’s upset. pretty grumpy about how u won’t look at him or speak to him. how you brush him off when he tries to touch your hand,,, just overall not a very happy boy altho when is he ever

-another ten minutes pass n bakugou sorta feels bad about what he said, but not bad enough to apologize. not even slightly. lord knows he has way too much pride for that

-so then he sets off with a new plan,, probably called like *operation revert things back to normal without apologizing bc that’s “wimp shit”*..........🙄🙄🙄

-detailed below is the plan in it’s entirety. and as expected it is not only very poorly designed, but also absolutely out-of-touch and mostly childish

Step 1: Strike A Pose

*so ,, the basis of this first step, is preying on your attraction to him,,, look, bakugou is not an idiot, nor is he afraid to admit how handsome he is. he practically makes it his job to figure out what gets you going

*n even if it makes him feel a little ridiculous/flustered he will absolutely rip his shirt off in front of you if that’s what it takes (just dont look at his face tho bc he’s blushing)

*he’s also prone to grabbing your wrist in his hand, and wrapping his fingers around it entirely. bc the asshole has nice, big, well-manicured hands n he knows u like them

*probably drops himself onto the couch next to you,, just to throw his head back and expose the column of his throat. pls n if he sees u looking over, he’ll blush 10/10 times, but he’ll still side-eye you and swallow intentionally while ur watching him

-alright, so now, if that was me, obvi it’d work. almost immeadiately. but let’s say ur a real hard-ass and somehow completely unmoved by how fine he is (wow, cant imagine what that’s like) . so he moves on to the next phase of the plan which is

Step 2: Make As Much Noise As Possible

*alright so this is where he just devolves into more insulting comments. bc adding fuel to the fire obviously makes it go out. clearly.

*will poke at ur cheeks/hands/legs n say sum “jesus, dumbass, learn to take a joke. didn’t fuckin’ mean it. c’mon, you knew that, you’re being stupid.”

*probably swipes whatever you’re paying attention to instead,, will hold it just out of ur reach and “if you want it then fuckin’ ask. ‘m not giving it to you until you speak to me again.”

* “why are you even upset? you rlly that fuckin’ sensitive?”

-okay so if that still doesn’t work, and it doesn’t, ofc it doesn’t, bakugou is just irritable now. he’s grumpy and crabby and probably misses u (even tho he’d never admit it) and he can’t accept ur silence bc then he’d be “losing” to you,, so onto the next phase which is

Step 3: Smooth Things Over

*finally, finally, he’ll come around to the idea of apologizing. which, for bakugou is rlly just tricking u into thinking he’s apologizing without actually having to say the words so he can feel like he’s “winning”.... 🙄

*this leads to him being uncharacteristically nice. like, making u food without complaining, or maybe making u tea

*n then he’ll just sorta,, press those little gifts into ur hands and look at u expectantly. just stand there in silence and wait for u to smile at him again

-but don’t fold sweetie. don’t fold even if he’s being sort of nice for once. with bakugou you’ve literally got to beat him into submission or he’ll never learn,, and if u still don’t speak to him then he’ll finally, finally, bend to you

Step 4: Suck It the Fuck Up

*firstly, his apologies are never rlly impressive. not really. they’re always mumbled and kinda stuttery, but they’re sincere. he’d only say the words if he actually meant them

*will sound very much like “Fine. Whatever. I’m sorry. Jesus, don’t make me fuckin’ say it again.” tho

*then when u finally look at him, a tiny little smile on your face, he’ll sort of just crowd you bc he missed u. v much a man who huffs in “annoyance” while also refusing to remove his face from ur collarbone or let you out of his arms

-and then all is finally, finally well in bakugou’s world. until he opens his big mouth again. he’ll learn eventually,,, maybe. probably not lmao

—/—

hope u enjoy @doggonudez !! :))))

[katsukikitten]

This is a repost for a fic I deleted ages ago. I've done zero editing and even had to go into my old phone to get it. Enjoy ~

Kirishima gripped onto your face tightly , tight enough that his fingers were causing indents in your smooth skin. Your heart was beating out of your chest, the two of you enveloped in darkness in the small confines of a random coat closet.

"Do you know the things I want to do to you, Y/N?" His voice is dangerously husky, his breath the only indication that he has been drinking.

Your cheeks burn at the question as he pushes you agaisnt the wall, separating your legs with a powerful thigh. Voices of your classmates and a low thump of music in celebration of new years is long forgotten as the roar of your blood echos in your delicate ears.

You swallow unsure of how to answer. Kirishima was always a good friend had he ever expressed interest in you? He was sweet and kind. The first to volunteer to show you around campus, the first to guide you to new friends and the first to encourage you to date someone else.

Someone else that broke your heart a few months ago and Eijirou was the first to lend his shoulder to cry on. Ruby eyes shining as they welled with their own set of tears. So how could he even think to like you?

His hand moves to your throat but his grip is much lighter, barely holding onto your thin column with plenty of opportunity to breathe.

"Are you not going to answer, little one?" His voice reverberates around the small closet, in your chest. Still you cannot even think of an answer depsite having too taken shots of liquid courage but clearly not as much as your red headed friend. His grips slowly becomes tighter yet no fear rings out into your body, only excitement. You never pegged Kirishima as the...commanding type.

"I..." Your voice gets lost in your throat your fist his black shirt. His eyes shine as he holds your gaze with what little light filters in thought the cracks of the door.

"You what? Speak up when speaking to your sir please baby girl." You inwardly giggle, even in his dominate state he asked nicely. But the effect was not lost on you what with his soft tone and grip.

No if anything it encouraged you more.

"I wouldn't know, sir. You've never seemed to express that type of interest in me." You say softly just a few decibels above a whisper. A haughty smile forms on his face as he pushes you further into the wall, completely pressing his body agaisnt yours as his lips find your ear in such urgency.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to pretend to be happy for you and Bakugou?" His grip tightens with his rarely found rage, still nothing compared to the ash blonde "I encouraged the two of you because the chemistry was obvious and I knew he'd treat you well. He did treat you well but I guess I got so caught up in making sure you got what you wanted that I didnt think about his inability to be open with his feelings. I should know best about that."

"Wha..what do you mean you should know best?" He doesn't answer for a long time, silencing anymore questions with a kiss.

His tenderness is welcomed although your body craves more, more punishment but you cannot find yourself being your true bratty self to Kirishima. How can you defy someone who asks so nicely? You melt into his kiss, feverish to feel more as you pulling on his hair.

Just as he is about to part your lips with his tongue the small closet is suddenly flooded with light.

"So this is where you two made off too." The voice is dark, causing both you and Eji's stomachs to clench with desire. You both are frozen under the scarlet gaze of the predator.

"Kitten what are you doing pinned beneath such a scrawny puppy?" Your heart races at the old nickname, body still pulling towards him despite the attraction to the ruby haired man pinning you to the closet. He grabs Kirishima by the back of his thick neck pulling the warmth away from you. Exposing how much you two have really been up to in the dark as your shirt is haphazardly lifted up your smooth torso. He slams Kirishima agaisnt the wall of the closet by his throat as he gently grabs onto the crook of your arm.

His eyes scream unquenched rage, knowing if you defy him now there will be hell to pay later.

"But King I was only enjoying his company. His lips are marvelous and his hands..." Katsuki's eyes flicker back to you, he wraps his fingers in the thick hair at the base of your skull. Pulling harshly as your core begins to heat.

He harshly tilts your face away from him, exposing your neck to his hungry teeth. His kissable lips press to your ear.

"Still a brat I see. I guess I didnt punish you harshly enough." His voice is velvet contradicting his deadly grip. Kirishima whimpers beneath Katsuki's touch, reaching out a hand for yours that you gladly grip onto.

A little unused to Katsuki not having a free hand to comfort you, unknowing that Eji feels the same. Crimson eyes shift to the man beneath his crushing grip and a small smirk plays on his lips.

"My little puppy if you hang around kitten too much her brat will rub off on you." He loosens his grip when he sees Kirishima's eyes rolling into the back of his head, for once not realizing how harshly he was gripping.

He was unused to both of his hands occupied but that wasn't to say he didn't mind. A bratty kitten and an extremely obedient puppy was going to prove...interesting. The strong hand moves from your hair quickly to your waist to pull you to him while his eyes stay glued to Eji.

"Ah are you alright little one?" He asks soothingly as he peppers kisses onto Eji's neck, slightly red, "I've gripped too hard huh."

Tears prick Kirishima's eyes and you squeeze his still held hand having been there too. Not with Katsuki being too rough, no he was always the right amount but teetering on the fine line of pleasure and shame to allow someone to control you, to provoke such reactions out of you. He gently kisses your knuckles that are interlaced with Ejis, lips trailing over his before he gently separates them with his free hand. He squeezes your hip as he exits the closet.

"Follow me." A command that neither are allowed to disobey, even going as far as to make sure that you do not escape.

Kirishima stays frozen against the closet wall.

"But..." His voice is soft, small even unlike the normal booming confidence he normally displays.

"Puppy." Katsuki barks out darkly, not even bothering to turn around, "Unless you want your erection to go untouched by anyone but you, I suggest you follow your King."

"Yes, Katsuki-sama." He says softly falling into place behind the two of you. He guides you both up the stairwell taking a familiar path until the three of you stop in front of a thick oak door of a college dorm room.

Your door. That he opens with ease as you never lock it unless sleeping or during a session. He flicks on the switch that allows the soft string lights to flicker on, leaving the harsh center over head light off. He turns to grab onto Kirishima's hand bringing you both to the center, standing barefoot on the plush faux fur rug.

"Kneel." He orders and Kirishima sinks to his knees, posture straight as he murmurs with a bowed head.

"Yes, Katsuki-sama."

"I..." You protest your head clearing just a bit, hadn't he said he was done for awhile. Needed a break to think and now here he was bringing someone else into your room. You did not feel jealousy over the heavily hinted and obvious displays of interaction between the two men. If anything you desired to see it, to share your King with another would not be a bad idea. Two to support one another in the time of a "tyrant" you would just after to learn how to share the after Bakugou.

"And I said *kneel* Kitten." He steps closer without touching you and your body heats up, "Unless you want to be denied release all night. You're already up to twenty minutes worth of edging."

"But...." Tears prick your eyes as you sink to your knees, long forgetting your heartache for now. Unfair in his dominance or so you always think.

You face Katuski always as Kirishima keeps his head bowed. You try to study the different dynamic and cannot fathom being that good.

What kind of pleasures does Kirishima get with such good behavior?

Katsuki lifts his chin, holding his gaze.

"You may hold eye contact for tonight until I say other wise, okay, Koinu?" Kirishima nods in response earning a gentle kiss on the forehead before Katsuki stands over you, again gripping your hair roughly as he places a feather soft kiss onto your forehead. The rules the three of you have are unspoken but known by heart. One 'King you're hurting my heart' uttered from either pair of lips he will stop in his tracks and he will crush you to him.

"Now explore one another." His tone close to boredom as he pulls up your pink computer chair to sit on.

The two of you stare dumbfounded at one another then towards the higher power in the room. Small impatient explosions litter his skin as he sighs out his unspoken anger. His eyes level to both of you as he speaks.

"You two had no problem in that cramped closet. Koinu, why dont you see if little kitten is wet."

"King..." Eiji starts, Katsuki listens with narrowing eyes dissecting if it is disobedience or fear that causes him to hesitate.

He gives him a moment as your eyes return to Kirishima. You smile in his direction as Eji's heart beats rapidly.

Is this....is this what he wants? Does he want to share you? Does he want to share Katsuki?

Ruby eyes meet scarlet and the ash blonde stands before squatting to the red heads level.

"Are you okay Koinu?" Voice ever soft as he places his strong palm behind his red haired head and you reach out to touch Kirishuma's knee. Hair ruffled by a calloused hand while skin is being caressed by smooth fingers.

Something ignites in his chest.

"I...I'm okay, thank you Katsuki-sama, Kitten." Katsu smirks easing into his temporary throne, voice returning to that deadly tone.

"Then check to see if my kitten is enjoying our company my Koinu."

Kirishima hovers close to you, suddenly unsure of what he should be doing.

As if his hand wasn't half way up your skirt just downstairs. His hand follows the curve of your powerful thigh as it slips beneath the black fabric that drapes over your ass and your heat.

His fingers make their way to your core and when he discovers no restrictive fabric over your mound his eyes widen.

"Ah she must not being wearing underwear." Katsuki laughs, "I see you didn't know how much of a slut she was huh, Kirishima? Then again she never wears underwear with that skirt. Were you expecting to get laid?"

"No!" A mock shriek as his smile darkens.

"Then why are you up here with us kitten?"

For that you have no answer as Kirishima steals your breath. Still following the order to explore you as his fingers swirl over your needy clit with the ease of your own arousal.

"How does she feel?"

"Good." He breathes out, his other hand exploring your chest.

"Nice and slick huh? Easy to pound into. She's always ready to be fucked, doesn't matter how many rounds." Katsuki brags with a chuckle. Kirishima hesitates when you moan. He stops, swallowing.

"Continue but you cannot get her close to cumming. You won't know when to stop and with the way she moans you won't want to stop." Katsuki leans back, placing his hands behind his head.

Kirishima listens as he toys with you, leaning you off of your knees. Spreading your legs so he can better slip a digit in and out of you.

Two sets of eyes have your cheeks burning with desire as you lean your head back crying out with every gentle thrust. With each moan he increases in speed and you feel your core tighten.

Oh are you close, he's only a few thrusts away before fingers are ripped from your oozing center. You cry out, frustrated tears welling in your eyes.

"I told you to watch it. You cannot reward this brat until her behavior changes." Katsuki has Kirishima by the wrist now. He brings his soaked digits to his mouth sucking on Kirishima's middle finger. Your body mirrors Ejis as he shudders with pleasure. Katsuki brings Eiji's forefinger to his own mouth.

"Koinu, taste her." He sucks his own finger holding eye contact with Katsuki, "Good huh?"

"Yes Katsuki-sama."

"Good then you won't mind licking the taste off my cock in a few moments." He pulls on the belt on his pants and places it around Kirishima's throat, leaving the longer end in the front like a leash. He gives it a small tug and Kirishima groans, "I'm going to show you how to fuck her properly."

"Kitten, get into position." He snarls darkly and you obey as you move to all fours before lying on your forearms, pushing your ass up higher for your king. He teases you at first, pushing only the tip in having you begging after the third withdrawal. He obliges by sheathing himself in on hard thrust. You cry out clenching onto him as he pounds into you agonizingly slow.

You buck agaisnt him and receive a fist full of hair pulling you up to all fours.

"Kitten." He says lowly and you whimper, "Did you forget that quickly that I set the pace?"

"No."

"No what?" He stops mid thrust and you squirm. You catch Kirishima staring and embarrassment paints you red.

"No king." You moan, fighting the urge to fuck yourself on him. He eases into a slow pace.

"Koinu, come." Katsu calls and Kirishima's obeys, waiting next to him. Nails bite into your hip as a strong hand wraps over leather, thoroughly enjoying the power you both are lending to him. He pulls on the belt, crashing Eji's mouth to his own, forcing his tongue past sharp teeth for a battle he always wins. He breaks the kiss and both males are panting as you moan. The sight, the sound of their heated grunting kisses and the feel of Katsuki has you so close.

"You've been such a good puppy, that I'm going to change the plans. I'll allow you to help me us my slut." He kisses his lips firmly again, "Kitten suck his dick as well as you do mine while I fuck you senseless okay?"

"Yes king." You breath as Eiji comes into view. Slowly freeing himself and you cannot stop your want, your greed from feeling whole in two places. You take him all the way in, though difficult with his length, and gag just as Katsuki likes and Kirishima groans. Hands hesitant to grab onto your hair.

You look up at him, sucking his length as your moans from being fucking vibrate over the sensitive skin.

"Fuck...." He growls, fisting your hair as your head bobs quickly. He looks down on you with glazed ruby eyes and drinks in the sight of you. Cheeks flushed, eyes every now and again threatening to roll back and delicate mouth wrapped around his length.

The sight alone could have him come undone and when he watches his master pound into you his dick twitches eliciting a whine from you. You push him further when you pull on his "leash" choking him a devilish smile on your lips.

"Good idea Kitten." Katsuki praises with a smack on the ass before grabbing onto the belt and tugging on it hard. Kirishima gasps and the leather slaps your back, still working diligently to receive your mouth filling surprise.

"Katsuki-sama..." He groans.

"You're close already?" He laughs as a devilish smile plasters his lips, "She's good isn't she? Now Koinu has she been good enough to allow her to cum? She feels like she's been edged enough. She must love being used."

You work harder and faster, anything to get him to agree to rewarding you.

"Aaaahhh. Yes, yes she has."

"Well you know the rule, ladies first then we can paint her should we wish." He squeezes onto your hips as he begins to take harder and sloppier thrusts. He knows God damn well you cum best when he's about too.

And now to have the stimulation of two throbbing cocks inside you does send you over the edge.

Twitching, a moaning muffled screamed mess as tears run down your cheeks still trying to please the man before you. Your release sets off a chain reaction as your mouth is filled with what you crave before Katsuki sends you spiraling again with his own grunting release.

Slowly the three of you disentangle, Katsuki pulling you into Kirishima for a moment as he leaves to get a warm rag.

He cleans you gently, then deft fingers make quick work of removing the belt from a sore but happy throat. He looks at you both, palm behind each head and places the most stomach fluttering kiss on each of your heads.

"Now I've shown you how she likes to he fucked. When she's bratty just be extra stern okay?" He says to Kirishima as he goes to get dressed. His heart breaks knowing what his words mean but fire is lit in your stomach. You grab onto his wrist yanking him down onto the two of you. Ash blonde brows furrow as they stare up at you, firmly held by a strong masculine arm to two opposing bodies.

"You have an obligation to us, King." Your voice is all bite, all venom with warning that if he leaves there will be HELL to pay.

"Is that so?" He chuckles looking to Kirishima, "You agree?"

"I agree. You belong with us. This Kitten and Koinu might go wild with out a proper King." His voice is back to all confidence as it dances on the fringes of a threat.

Katsuki laughs harshly before kissing you both with breath stealing ferocity.

"Guess you always get what you want huh brat?"

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.” You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he’s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 1: THE BEGGINING OF IT ALL

It was quite dark in my room. Unclear of what's happening... Of what's going on... But one thing is clear to me... Someone is calling me from somewhere. Tossing and turning doesn't help the anxiety building up at the pit of my stomach. Come to me I'm scared... Dont be scared. I would never hurt you Who are you? Fall... With me... I don't want to hear you anymore... We'll rule as one.... This is just a dream... Denying won't keep me... This is not real... We are one... I'm hearing things...

Tears pricked my eyes and I shot up trembling. As I thought all of those were just a dream. With what little time have I caught my breath. My alarm stared ringing 6 minutes after I woke up. D/N, my dog, nudged my hand and looked at me with his worried eyes. "I'm good boy... I'll be good. Today's the class trip... I have to be good." I ran down stairs to see my mom cooking breakfast. "Hey there sweetie. You excited for the trip~?" She sang. I reluctantly nodded. "Yeah..." As mom set D/N's bowl she turned to me with a worried look. "You sure? Your enthusiasm sure tells me how excited you are." "Will D/N be coming with me?" On cue my dad already in his suit came down and gave my head a kiss. "Of course sweetie. He's a support animal, they have no choice." He smiled. Taking a pancake from the plate, he didn't bother adding butter nor syrup and bit it like bread. "Anyways, I gotta go. Have fun at your trip. And I'll see you after work." He gave me and my mom a kiss then left. "Start eating. We have to make sure you don't miss your bus." ~ The bus was noisy. Everyone is screaming and laughing loudly. I sat at the very front with Mrs. Rudolph. She's my history teacher and our class adviser. She looks like a grumpy old witch lady who eats children, but her personality is far from that. Which seems to be not enough for my classmates as they're very bratty in her class. D/N was currently laid on Mrs Rudolph's lap as she gently pet him. "Are we close yet Mrs Rudolph?" I asked. She gave me a smile, "yes quite close. In fact, it reminds me to remind you kids something." Picking up D/N from her lap she gently placed him on mine and stood up. "Attention!!" She yelled immediately changing from her soft demeanor. They kids instantly settled down and kept quiet. "Good, now... Is everyone aware of where we'll be going?" "Yes Mrs Rudolph..." We all reply. "And where are we going?" No one answered. I could sense she was about to get mad so I answered on my own. "Metropolitan museum of art..." "Good job Y/N!" She smiled at me and glared at the others. "We'll, I'd like to remind you lot that we won't be touring alone. Another school will be joining us, Yancy Academy! Now I wouldn't be the one supervising the tour, it'll be Yancy Academy's Latin teacher, so we need to show them we are capable and proper. I'm putting Y/N L/N in charge of the group. Listen to what she says and do participate when asked." Whispers started coming once again. I've always been Mrs Rudolph's favorite. It's not like she has a choice, I'm the only proper one among her students after all. "Keep quiet!" In an instant the whispering died. "I will not hear anything from your mouths about Y/N being in charge! She'll have the same power as I! If you have a problem speak louder and say it to me! Understand?!" "Y-Yes Mrs Rudolph..." The bus then stopped moving. "Y/N..." Mrs Rudolph rested an arm on my shoulder. "Lead them." She smiled and went out. I cleared my throat. "E-Everybody file ou-out properly an-and orderly... P-please." Grumbles and mumbles came from them as they did what I said. Once everyone was out I got out. I had D/N in my arms. The first thing I did as I got out was examine everything. From the distance, you could see the students who I assume are from Yancy Academy. A particular group had caught my eyes. A redheaded girl was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in a guy's curly brown hair, his friend was clearly agitated by what's happening and had balled his fist. "Y/N L/N." Mrs Rudolph called snapping me out from the trance. "H-Here!" "Okay so everyone is here. Remember, Y/N L/N is in charge. Now go mix with the Yancy kids." Mrs Rudolph clapped and almost immediately everyone ran towards the group. She walked up to me and pointed at D/N. "Dogs aren't allowed inside sweetie I'm sorry. We tried telling them." A whimper came from my boy as he scoot closer to my chest. "It'll be fine boy. W-would you... Mind?" "Not at all. I was going to offer after all." She smiled and took D/N from me. "Now run along and make friends. He'll be with you by lunch." I turned to see my classmates only to see them instantly making friends with the strangers. I could never do that. Getting closer I searched curly brown haired guy and his friends. A man had called our attention by clearing his throat, not giving me the chance to find curly guy. It was a middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket. "Everybody file." I said which thankfully they followed. "Hello to everyone." He gave us a comforting smile. "I'm Mr. Brunner, Yancy Academy's Latin teacher. I was told Y/N L/N will be in charge of your group?" I stepped up and greeted him. "All right. Well, feel free to mix in with the group. We'll be staying for a while." He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was listening to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, only one kid had been trying to keep them quiet and he keeps getting glares from someone who looks like Mrs Rudolph every time. Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art. Finally, a snicker came from behind, and a kind of loud reply of, "Will you shut up?" Came. The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story. The guy who had said shut up was the friend of curly. "Mr. Jackson," Mr. Brunner said, "did you have a comment?" His face was totally red and he said, "No, sir." Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?" I looked at the carving, and back at the guy who looked relived. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" "Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..." "Well... Kronos was the king god, and—" "God?" Mr. Brunner asked. "Oh uh..." He stammered. Obviously his one mistake got rid of all the information he remembered of the image. "Titan," I reminded him a little too loudly. They all had turned on me. "Ms L/N, care to help Mr Jackson?" "I-I, he knows... I don't..." I turned to Mr Jackson who looked at me as if he needed help. When he mouthed please I gulped. "H-He didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them..." As if he had a moment of epiphany, Mr Jackson looked at me and Mr Brunner. "Can you continue on Mr Jackson?" "Okay, Kronos's wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—" "Zeus fed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him puke his other five children, who were immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach." I interrupted... Oh god was that rude? "Eeew!" said one of the girls behind us. "—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," he continued, "and the gods won." "The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld." I continued. Some snickers from the group. Behind us, the red haired girl mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'" "And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?" "Busted," curly guy muttered. "Shut up," Ms Bobofit hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair. I thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir." "I see." Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. "How about you Ms L/N?" I shook my head frantically not sure of what to say. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson, Ms L/n, You both did well. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, Mrs Rudolph, would you lead us back outside?" The class drifted off, the class still mixed with the other. "Want to join us for lunch?" Mr Jackson offered scratching his head. "Uhm..." My face was heating up I never had friends before. I was about to reply when I heard a loud whimper from outside. It was D/N's cry. "I'm sorry." I said and ran towards the sound. They were about to follow when Mr. Brunner called, "Mr. Jackson." Running outside I searched for D/N. "Hey boy, where are you?!" I called. Not long after I found him by the fountain alone. "Oh god, what are you doing here alone? Why were you crying? Weren't you with Mrs Rudolph?" I cradled him in my arms and lied on the grass. Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Red hairedgirl was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Rudolph was with her look alike. "Hey," someone had looked down on me. "Sorry I ran. I heard D/N cry..." "Percy, Percy Jackson." He smiled. "Huh?" "I'm Grover Underwood." Curly beamed. "O-Oh... I'm Y/N L/N, this is D/N." He barked in response to the introduction. "Really?!" Grover looked at D/N in surprise. "Can I borrow him?! Please??" Me and Percy looked at him weirdly but I handed him D/N anyways. Grover sat on the edge of the fountain, and Percy and I close enough but not an earshot away. "Detention?" I asked. "Huh?" "Did you get left behind for detention?" I asked him. "Nah," he said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius. He thinks I know everything about Mythology and stuffs." "I think you are." I smiled at him. "You're pretty smart." "Yeah, well this genius is dyslexic." He smirked. "No way." "Way." "I am too!!" "What?" "Okay we're totally dyslexic twins now." I chuckled. "Totally." Being the awkward kid I am my stomach had to growl. "Want to have my apple?" I felt awkward and took his apple. "Thanks." We watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and had small talks about random stuffs, we ranged our topic from his past schools, to his mom, Nancy Bobofit the mean redhead, and Mrs Dodds his mathematics teacher. Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table. Percy was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap where D/N sat. "Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos D/N tackled her down, not biting her but barking at her not letting her up. And Percy tried to held his laughter in. Nancy screamed at D/N and tried to hit him. When she had successfully hit him she glared at me then the dog. "This stupid dog!" She then kicked him. When his whimper came out. "Hey?! What do you think you're doing!?" I screamed. "You don't know how to control your stupid dog!" "You dumped your lunch on him he had every right to mount you!" Grover had D/N now cradled in his arms. My teeth were gritting at the sight of this redhead. I was about to lift my hand on her. I don't remember what happened clearly, but I was pretty sure the water grabbed her, Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!" "No he didn't you liar!!" Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us. Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—" "—the water—" "—like it grabbed her—" I didn't care about the whispers. All I knew was that Percy was in trouble again. As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on Percy. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if he'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—" "He didn't do anything! Why are you punishing him?! Weren't you watching what was happening?!" I glared at her. Staring straight in her eyes. I don't know where I got this confidence and everything but I am starting down the teacher Percy is most scared of and winning. "I'd like to apologize for the bad conduct my student had affected yo---" "Nancy Bobofit is in the wrong not Percy! She. Hurt. My. Dog." I could hear the poison laced in my words. Mrs Rudolph came to me, "sweetie, let's go back in the bus. We have to leave." She took D/N from Grover and dragged me away from the scene. "But----" "Ms. L/N, we'll miss the schedule. Let's go." As if D/N knew he jumped off from Mrs Rudolph's hold and ran. "D/N!!" I didn't bother saying anything to Mrs Rudolph and ran after him. "Y/N!!" She tried calling after. I had lost D/N a few times and I found him. He was barking and growling at something. I went to check and saw Percy swing a sword at a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs... She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me. "Percy?" I called. His sword was gone and there was a ballpoint pen in his hand. His hands were still trembling. "W-Was th-that... D-did..." "Percy," I slowly walked up to him and pulled him to a comforting hug. "Calm down. Breathe. I... Also saw that. You're not imagining things alone." We went back outside. D/N leading us. It had started to rain. Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt." I said, "Who?" "Our teacher. Duh!" We blinked. "We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr." Percy said. He asked Nancy what she was talking about. She just rolled her eyes and turned away. We went over to Grover to ask where Mrs. Dodds was. He said, "Who?" But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at Percy, so we thought he was messing with us. "Not funny, man," he told him. "This is serious." "I am concerned as well..." Grover looked at me in surprise. "A-about what?" "About... Mrs Dodds? Percy and I saw something really disturbing." Thunder boomed overhead. Percy then let go of me and went over to Mr. Brunner who hasn't moved from his spot. I immediately followed after. He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson." Percy handed Mr. Brunner his pen. "Sir," he said, "where's Mrs. Dodds?" He stared at him blankly. "Who?" "The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher." I added. He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, Y/N, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?" "W-What?" "And Y/N, Mrs Rudolph is very worried about you. You just ran away all of a sudden. Your bus is about to leave." I turned to Percy reluctantly. "I'll walk you..." "This... Can't be a real..." I gasp. "Okay if this is real, then we'll never meet again and we were really just imagining things and this is a coincidence." "Agreed..." "Percy, I know what I saw. I know what I remember. We'll meet again, and when we do... I have a feeling it'll be weirder." "I'll look forward to it."

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Taglist?

[ookawahere]

How about Trevor giving kids a lesson?

“Okay, kids, now listen up.” said Trevor slightly leaning forward, hands on his hips.

It’s a rather chilly night. Late autumn, almost winter time in the Belmont Village. Simon’s five friends from the village has come to stay over the night in the castle, to play with him. But apparently, a fight started over between the kids and Trevor got a grip on the subject.

They are all in a big room, where a fire silently burns behind them. Even though this living room has many chairs and sofas, a bunch of kids and a black cat sitting in front him on the carpet, rather bashfully, knowing that Trevor is angry with them.

“What do we do if we make a mistake?”

Kids answered together, with a mild whisper. “We apologize.”

“Can’t hear?”

“We apologize.” Said kids all together, with a bit higher tone. Trevor huffed and stood straight.

“Thats more like it.” He shrugged. “Unless you are 100% right about what you did. And no, kid,” he hushed one of the village kids before he could even find the chance to speak. “ this fight wasn’t something like that.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Stealing is never a righteous behaviour. And lying about it after is way worse.”

Hearing this, all the the children in front of him bowed their head in shame.

Alucard, who was silently watching over this scene behind a column, rose an eyebrow. He was simply passing by the main-room when a troubled sigh of Trevor caught his attention. So instead of entering the room, he decided to observe. He was rather curious about what happened since Trevor wasn’t the type to scold kids.

“But, dad, Jack said-“ Simon tried to speak but lost his voice when Trevor looked at him.

“Simon. You are equally guilty as Jack. Haven’t I been telling you not to lie about serious matters? Stealing a weapon and playing with it without mine, Sypha’s or Alucard’s watch is a dangerous thing.” He sighed, trying to calm his nerves. But it was a bit hard since the image of him and his friends literally playing juggling with consecrated blades never leaving his mind. “Look, I am not usually the one to give a lesson to you but using weapons without an adult’s watch is something i cant approve.”

He sighes once again. And shrugs. “ I am not saying you cant use them. But i want to be the one to show you how those are used. You all are in the age to get bruises as much as leaves in the trees. Yet I wouldn’t want to see any of you got hurt, mortally, just because you find shiny things intresting.”

Kids, now heads up, looking at him eyes full of hope. “So… can you teach us how to throw knives, uncle Trevor?” asks a girl with dark curly hair.

Trevor smirks. “Without a question.”

As he answers children starts to scream with excitement, scaring the cat sitting beside them. Trevor hurries to silent them.

“Shh shhh! Not so loud. On one condition: We are all keeping this between us, okay? No one will say anything, and i mean anything,” he narrows his eyes looking at another kid, who is famous for his loose tongue “ to Sypha nor Greta, okay??”

Kids, covering their mouth with their palms, nods excitedly. Trevor smiles again now soften up.

“Too late. Already heard it.” Whispers Sypha, next to Alucard. Alucard, grins. He knew she reached to his side long before she started speaking. She must also prefered to stay silent and watch them, trying to understand the situation.

“Are you going to stop him?”

“Hmm? No, i dont think so. I mean who is more used to knives and blades than Trevor? Let him show off a little.” She giggles into her fist, leaning over to Alucard’s arm. Alucard chuckles again.

“Why do i sense a competition vibe?”

“It’s because i will show the kids, who is the stronger parent later on.” Sypha says, proudly, her hand on her chest. “ They will lose their interest in Trevor’s blades after my magic show, which i am sure of it.”

Alucard, chokes on his silenced laugh. “Such a humblegod.”

Sypha grins. But before giving a response a kid in the room screams.

“Uncle Trevor, can you pretty please tell us a story?”

Trevor, rises an eyebrow. “You sure? It’s not usually my job, considering Sypha’s story-telling is way better than mine.” As his eyes catches a strand of blonde and ginger hair right outside of the room. Trevor smirks. “But alright, tonight i can make an exception. So, Have you ever heard the “Flying Jesus” story, kids? It’s one of my adventures.”

Alucard tenses up between hands of laughing Sypha next to him.

“He really couldn’t find any better name for me than that, in all these years….”

Sypha trying to wipe away her tears of joy, between breathes. “Hihi, you were like that though, hihihi.”

“Why thank you, Miss speaker.” Huffs Alucard, a little annoyed.

“Oh come oooon,” says Sypha, as she looks at the room, meeting eyes with her husband. She nods and starts to drag Alucard to other part of the corridor. “You know, we love it when you fly. And kids? They love it even more.”

Alucard, giving her a “really?” look, follows her. “Well, what can I say, I have my charms as well.” He shrugs and grins mischievously. “Maybe I am the strongest parent in their eyes, hmm?”

Sypha pinches his sides. “Don’t get cocky, Rapunzel.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hi I dont know if you want jercy requests at the moment but i had an idea for one :

Dark percy murdering calligula as a revenge for jason

Hello angel! Whew this request was willldddddd and I had soo much fun with it. There isn't any jercy per se (in fact Annabeth and Percy are together in this) but Percy is furrrrrious about Jason and he exacts a very twisted sort of revenge for his friend's honour. Basically this was an excuse to write dark!percy and by gods I hope I delivered!

CW: revenge driven, grief, graphic depictions of violence

Burning Maze Spoilers

he used to be nice.

He used to be nice.

Percy had been digging around the weapons room when his name had been shrieked like a dying animal. He had been looking for protective gear to give to little demigods in his sword-fighting class, when a scream like broken bones cracked through his body. He had been starting another calm, routine-controlled day at camp half-blood when he heard the news that made him snap.

*Two hours earlier*

“Jackson,” Annabeth knocks at his cabin door. He hears her voice carry through the open windows, and over the continuous sound of the ocean. “Pers, we have breakfast in half an hour and you have a sword class to teach today.”

The event had been printed on her wall of “to-dos” so that neither of their adhd brains would have the chance to forget. But he groans at the reminder, not wanting to escape his warm bed, or the duvet that wraps around him like a hug, or the pillows that hold his head as if he is a god. Sometimes he wishes he was a Hypnos kid. Their whole thing is sleeping . The knock sounds again.

“Seaweed Brain, come on,” His girlfriend sighs, “You promised we’d talk to Chiron about the—"

The loud and obnoxious cry of a harpy sounds somewhere in the distance and whatever she says next is drowned out completely. He knows though. Knows what she’s going to say and what they have to do. So he drags himself out of bed, like the last sack of potatoes on the crate. Heavy and bruised and discarded for the most desperate of the lot.

“I’m up,” He manages to rasp. He doesn’t like talking to people till he’s brushed his teeth, and eaten something, and spent at least half an hour staring at an empty coffee cup. A New Yorker through and through he supposes.

“Okay,” He hears Annabeth call, “I’ll see you at the dining hall then.”

He makes a sound half way between a grunt and a yawn and hopes she understands because that’s the best she’s getting out of him. The morning routine is quick, even done at the speed of a stubborn toddler. Soon he is sitting at the Poseidon table, scarfing down eggs and toast, and washing it done with a second cup of coffee. The buzzing in his veins is completely normal. And he’s definitely not speaking at a thousand miles an hour. This is how he always talks. Why on earth they allow coffee in a camp full of adhd kids, he’ll never understand. But it works in his favour so he isn’t going to complain.

By the time him and Annabeth are done talking to Chiron about introducing therapy to the camp, he feels like his eyes are moving faster than his sensory receptors can process and his thoughts are moving faster than his ability to process at all. So when his girlfriend, smiling at him about something, stops outside their training room he looks at her with furrowed brows and asks, “What are we doing here? Are we training for something?”

She frowns, “How much coffee did you have this morning?”

���Only three cups.” He shrugs, and clenches his hands in his pockets as if she can see through the fabric to the shaking body underneath.

Her grey eyes widen as if she’s about to scold him, a petulant child being chided by their ever tired caregiver. It makes the part of him still attempting to function slightly wild. He squishes that part down with the force of a thousand ships. Someone calls Annabeth’s name so with a quick peck to the cheek she leaves him in front of the training room and jogs towards the middle of camp and out of sight.

He stares at the room, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on things he doesn’t need to focus on right now, like the three lines of a song he heard at the grocery store a week ago that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head.

He used to be nice.

Entering the training room he scans the schedule and sees he’s teaching a class of small people, campers younger than ten who are just learning the ropes but should disaster ever strike will be ushered to the Cabin 9 bunkers to wait out the storm. It is a rule that no-one under the age of twelve be subject to war if they need not be. And he will make damn sure the need never ever surfaces.

He gathers swords of various shapes and sizes, along with a few daggers, and the straw dummies that have seen better days. It boggles his mind that they’re at a camp for children of literal greek gods but somehow there’s no funding for basic necessities like extra cots in the Hermes cabin, and better dummies to stab.

Muttering to himself he moves aside metal and stacks of straw, trying to find protective gear in the pile dumped at the corner of the training room. When he doesn’t see any he lets out a long suffering sigh... he has to go to the weapons room, which is more of a broom closet with deadly devices than anything else.

The room smelt musty, and the reek of rust slams into his nostrils at dizzying speeds. It reminds him of blood, and it made his skin itch with the need to get out. But still he bends down and searches through the mess of celestial bronze, and gold and—

The scream cauterizes his happiness. He is panic and pain and death and everything brutal in a single awful instant.

“PERCY!” His name has never sounded so full of agony, each syllable holds the stages of grief.

He is running towards the anguish before he’s even fully realises what’s going on. But what he sees when he crests the hill is enough to make the warmth of his heart run burning cold.

Annabeth is curled on the ground, tears like rivers of woe streaming down her cheeks and a purple flag clutched tightly in her fists.

“What happened?” His voice is soft. If he hears himself too loudly he’s going to shatter.

Annabeth cries harder, her whole body shuddering. Grief is overwhelming. Grief is all consuming. Grief will make itself known like thorns in your thumb or bullets in your heart.

“What happened?” He repeats.

And someone, far away, right next to his ear, inside his head, says, “It’s Jason, Jason Grace. He’s dead.”

He used to be nice.

It takes him three days. Three days of non-stop travelling, by foot, and air, and sea, to reach Caligula’s home. A palace. A grave. It is three days too long. Too long for a murderer to be walking free as if there are no consequences to his vile actions. But still he is here now and he will see the fall of a great, and watch how he bleeds just like everyone else. Not gold, the colour of the emperor’s one true love, but red, the colour of his victims.

Percy's eyes are almost black with violence, green so dark it reflects the night sky. His hands clench and unfurl as if practicing to wrap around a throat and squeeze till the symphony of breathing plays its last note. His body is strung taut, a bow string waiting to release. He is murder. He is nothing. He is your worst nightmare.

“Caligula.” He scrapes. It is the exact sound of a sword sparking against stone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Nothing but scared silence greets him. He can feel the fear coating the walls of this burial ground like a fresh coat of paint. He will make a playground of the blood he spills, will invite all manner of creatures to use it as a park. He will revel in the slaughter he is about to participate in.

“Caligula!” His voice is the sharp edge of a small knife. Unassuming but deadly. ‘“It is no use hiding. There is no place you could go where I couldn't find you.” He feels the earth sway underneath him, and he grins. Oh this is going to be fun.

“Fine Emperor, if this is how you want to do it.”

With a shrug, he flings out an arm and turns three columns to dust. He watches the stone crumble, feels the sand on his palm as if he was crumbling the columns in his hands like soft cheese. With a small stomp of his foot a crack rivaling the river Thames splits the marble floor in half. The entire structure shudders, creaks right above him. His grin only gets wider, more dangerous.

“I will level this place to the ground. I will erase it from history as if it had never been. You will not exist Caligula, because you will go with it. Will be crushed under the weight of your own wealth.”

“You’re a fool,” A voice, reedy and nasalled in a way that has his soul curdling, shouts from somewhere on the far side of the room. “You will crush us both."

Percy laughs. He laughs and the sound widens the cracks in the floor. It is deep, and wild, but in the way a wild thing is caged: snapping at it’s bars, hissing to be free. He laughs.

“You are a fool Caligula. A fool if you think i am not willing to die if it means you suffer. A bigger fool still if you think it will not give me great pleasure to spend my last moments watching the life leave your eyes,”

The distant sound of bubbling starts to fill the room. Percy wonders if he can make blood boil. His mother has certainly said so enough times.

“Leave now half-blood,” The Emperor spits. There is still something of arrogant, misplaced bravery in his voice. It amuses Percy. “Leave now and you will not face the consequences.”

“And pray tell,” He contemplates, “Who you think will deliver your consequences if i leave?”

A scoff that echoes into the pathways of his brain comes from the back of the room. “I do not need consequences dealt. I have done nothing to deserve them.”

The sound of bubbling is getting louder. He looks curiously at the cracks still spidering around the room. “Ah Emperor,” He tuts, “That is where you are wrong. People who deserve consequences hardly ever get them. It is those who don’t think they deserve them that become the unlucky bearers.”

“What are you going on about, boy?” He snarls.

The bubbling is loud enough now that Percy almost checks to see if a small brook has carved its way through the floor. There is nothing there except ever growing cracks, turning to rifts and canyons before his eyes.

He used to be nice.

“We can do this one of two ways Caligula.” He starts, honey bees with a sting a little too sharp to be defence. “You can apologise and I’ll kill you quickly, or…” His smile is sickening. “And this is my preferred method, I could watch you die slowly, watch the life drain from your body and into the soil of blood-crops that will grow here, and your dying words will be the mercy you will inevitably beg for.”

The bubbling spills over the cracks, leaking salty water onto the dying marble floor.

“Better choose soon oh dear Emperor,” He giggles, “I am the only thing holding this room together. As soon as I let go the floor will split like your loyalties. You will be crushed to death by your own greed. And if that doesn't happen you will surely drown.” To emphasise his point water starts gushing from the floor, no longer a bubbling stream but a raging river. His laughter is carried along the ripples that hit the walls, already leaking with the all encompassing ocean. “Wouldn’t it be a pity Caligula? To drown in your own home, surrounded by all the things you killed for, watching as they drown with you?”

“Shut up half-blood,” He screeches, “You do not have the power it takes to kill me. You are nothing compared to the centuries I have been alive.”

“Do you know who i am honouring Caligula?” He asks softly, a stark and terrifying contrast to his smile a moment before. “In all your centuries can you remember but one demigod, a dear friend of mine, but just another victim of yours?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, “They are all the same in the end. All bleed, and cry, and piss, and die the same.”

The grin Percy lets loose starts hurricanes. It is the absolute wrong thing to say. ‘“If it is all the same to you Emperor,” He becomes terror. “Then i think i’ll spill your blood at his altar.”

And before the doomed emperor could react an invisible hand wraps around his throat and he was being dragged to the middle of the room. His eyes wide, popping out of his head; hands clawing at his neck as if trying to remove the grip they cannot feel; feet flopping helplessly underneath him.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.” It is a command.

Caligula glares, attempting to spit at his feet.

Percy tilts his head and with a single crook of his finger he slams the emperor into the wall. The crack is deafening. It makes him grin.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.”

Caligula produces an ancient roman gesture, passed through time as if centuries cannot dismantle the insults of humans.

Percy twists his wrist and the emperor’s body contorts into something unrecognizable, bones snapping and shattering to fit their new mold.

“Apologise for killing my friend.”

“Fuck you,” He manages to choke out.

A wave of ocean water alarming in its beauty rises behind him. He is its god. And with a wink he shoves all of it down the emperor’s throat. The column of that pale neck bobs as if attempting to take the water down. He can see the body trying to retch it all up, unable to handle the sheer amount, the salt that comes with it.

“Watch Caligula,” He motions to the palace sinking under the weight of his ocean, “Watch as everything you have ever cared to love drowns.”

Percy grabs a shard of mirror, uncaring of the gash it sweeps across his palm. He holds it up to the ancient powerful Emperor, who is convulsing into nothing. “Watch.”

He used to be nice.

Sometime later when Percy Jackson walks up a hill, and into the fading sun there is nothing but content mania lining his features, and behind him where a grand home once stood, is a trickling river and a single spear carved with the words, “Neo Helios”. The only sign that Caligula, Emperor and murderer, ever existed,

He used to be nice.

Until someone killed his friends.

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

[image id: printed text that reads, "I used to be nice." end id]

[littlespaceporgs]

The Clone Wars Reacts - Part 1

Or, Leah thinks Yoda is a badass and thirsts and coos over Plo Koon.

Welcome to part 1 of season 1! Ngl I’ve only got 2 episodes for the first one because i didn’t have time to watch a third, so here we go. These are just the thoughts and notes i took as i made my way through the episode, in their absolute rawness, I’ve barely even edited them so enjoy? and before anyone mentions it, yes I could do these on tiktok and you guys could watch me being an idiot, would anyone be interested in that however?

Tags (if anyone else would like to be tagged in this series, let me know!): @acciokenobi​ @roseofalderaan​ @catsnkooks​ @peacelandbread​ @littlevodika​ @icedcoffeeandgays​ @captainrexstan​ @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @mcu-padawan​

Episode 1: Ambush

> Fuck yeeeeeaaahhh this intro is a fucking bop, I forgot how much I like it

> OH WAIT HANG ON YODAS IN THIS EPISODE, like it’s actually Yoda centric???? mad.. i thought it was going to be anakin and ahsoka this ep

> FUCK I KNOW THAT VOICE *enter ventress*             - this woman could step on me and I’d say thank you ✨

> Oh shut tf up Dooku, nobody cares what you have to say

> “Sprung the trap, we have” no shit, is it just Yoda’s trademark to say exactly what’s going on?

> HAHAHAHAHHAAH “ITS MY PROGRAMMING”!!!!!

> I have some questions, who has the creativity to come up with characters and planets that look like this?? Like that’s so cool????

> Huh you actually think you’re gonna catch Yoda???? Interesting thought.

> HAHAHAHAHA SMALL SHRIVELLED GREEN ONE WITH A LIGHTSABER *accurate tho, and I live for Ventress’ sarcasm ngl

> I want to point out the peak humour of one droid saying stop, we’re not gonna fit, followed by a droid attempting to fit                  >> actually scratch that the droids are hilarious in general

> HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH HIS GIGGLE AND THEN DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT HE MEANT?!

> why is yoda likeable in this episode??? If you can’t tell already, I don’t like Yoda very much.

> “He IS a little one!”

> alright fine. i admit it, I don’t think I’ve given Yoda enough credit, I didn’t like him much, but 10 minutes episode and I’m lowkey giggling at him.

> Dude Yoda is so cool *(Notes: i have written in a column here: should rename the title of part i to “Yoda is a fucking boss”)

> The force is so cool ngl

> “Trouble? Know nothing of this trouble, I do” hahahahaha hahahahaha

> AW HUNNY NO YOURE NOT EXPENDABLE YOU NEED TO GO WITH THE SHRIVELLED GREEN LITTLE SHIT

> good job Yoda make em feel better for me thank you

> *droid battallion approaches and Yoda just fucking sits there* Have I mentioned that Yoda is literally so cool?

> Bruh I shouldn’t be surprised that the 4 of them destroyed an entire battalion but that was legit AWESOME

> HA HA HA HA AH BITCH YODA GONNA KICK UR ASS

> Eh i don’t think I’ve said this enough, Yoda’s fucking cool.

> PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT fully just stole her lightsabers - imagine how much trouble Yoda would’ve saved himself if he had just kept the bastards instead of letting her take them back

> Alright fine, maybe I will enjoy this season.

 Episode 2: Rising Malevolence 

Notes: I am so sorry in advance, to be honest this entire one is just me either thirsting or cooing over Plo Koon and I can’t help it, and no, I still have not decided dad or daddy (its currently 14(?) hours after I watched the episode and I am still very undecided and I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to make that choice)

> HEY ITS LITTLE BABEY AHSOKA AND OMG HOLY SHIT HES IN THIS EPISODE????????????????

> Lowkey I dunno if it’s dad or daddy?

> Awwwwwww Lil soka (wait I’m talking about Plo Koon in case you’re confused) (NOTES: uh I know I put it up top but just case you missed it)

> Sorry, did Anakin just say he was gonna ask the council?? The fuck?? 

              >>Be mindful????? Who the fuck is this????

> Ugh it’s palptatunes slimy looking ass

> OBI OBI OBI OBI OBI OBI OBI

> oh shit man that’s bad *if you haven’t clued in I’m going on about the weapon

> AWWWWWW HE WAITS FOR THE CLONES TO GET ON FIRST

> dude what the fuck is going on with his hair??

> Everytime Plo talks my mind goes 🥰 sorry that’s off topic (or is it?)

> At least obi-wan sees sense, Anakin teaching an already reckless Ahsoka was never going to end up with them both being quiet

> AHSOKA! 😠

> Oh wait Wolffe doesn’t have his scar yet????? WAIT DOES THAT MEAN WE SEE HIM GET IT LATER?! Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh-

> HAHAHAHAHA HE ONLY TAKES A BATH ON BREAK

> HMMMMMM AWWWWW I VALUE YOUR LIFE MORE THAN FINDING THAT WEAPON

> There’s more alive, oh good I was afraid that they- aw shit poor Plo he sounds like he feels so guilty

> fucking hell I just wanna give him a hug and kiss his cheek and make it all better (NOTES: see what I mean???? Thirst or fluff?)

> OOP THERE IT IS! I was wondering when the usual Anakin would show up

> “Redeployed himself.... again.” I can feel obi-wans exasperation with this kid man

> Okay so, Anakin is a little shit. So disobey the council but don’t tell them that I’m teaching you that

> Aw no there’s gonna be more clones die??????? Oh no and they have to watch oh no oh no oh no-

> I have questions: How are they screaming? I don’t think that’s how space works??? Ok but I legit don’t know?? Is it even possible to scream in space?? And shouldn’t it have killed them straight away?

> Aaawwwwww Ahsoka my baby (literally anytime this child comes on screen)

> “Anakin where are you” I love obi wan so much hahahahahahahahaha

> WAIT NO PLO AND FEW OF HIS SONS TROOPERS ARE ALIVE DONT LEAVE

> oh good job R2, crisis averted

> Pfffftttt the droid humming is distracting me from the more potential death

> Plo Koon is cooler than Yoda, you cant change my mind so don’t try.

> YEEEEETTTTTT poor sinker yikes I can’t imagine flying through space is fun

> PALPATINE YOU BASTARD HE PROBABLY WANTS MY LOVE DEAD HOW DARE HE

> “Twice the trouble they have become”?????? No shit Yoda. What were you thinking pairing these two disasters up?

> AND THEN HE TRIES TO GET THEM TO ABANDON DAD(DY?)

> R2’s whirring is a vibe tho

> AAAAAAHHHH NOT TO ME PLO MY HEART 🥺🥺

> oh god the animation is terrible (NOTES: I can’t believe it took me that long to make that comment)

> Aw he seems so sad, thank u Ahsoka, she gave him the love and hug he deserves

> Ugh now my internet’s playing up dang it, well this is infuriating, I WANT TO KNOW IF THEY DESTROY THE WEAPON OR NOT?!

> He seems so genuinely scared??????? Plo has me getting major feels

> OH SHIT FUCK THE OTHER DROID SHIT FUCK NO SHIT

> how did everyone hate Ahsoka when this first came out??? I love her so much

> I mean like, I know they’re not gonna die??? But I still feel so anxious omg

> Holy shit the disappointment that rolls off of dooku is kinda hilarious (it took all of me not to start giggling at this)

> “Riiiiiiiiiiiiight the council report”

Alright gonna stop here, because I have class in 20 minutes and there is no way that I am leaving the library if I start watching episode 3 so uh see y’all next time for episodes 3,4,5 and maybe 6??