#have only used the masking fluid a few times but it’s been really nice so far

[toweroftickles]

No Ticket, No Entry

(Miles/Gwen Tickle Fic)

If you're a cop's kid, they say there are only two possibilities: you become a cop yourself, or one of the crooks he chases. For Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy, it was a little bit of both. Equipped with an arsenal of stickers and spray cans, Miles was always the more prone to troublemaking of the two. Gwen usually required a little more prodding.

But what kind of self-respecting teenager, at some point, hasn’t snuck into a movie theater?

The two perched high on lampposts on the street outside, perfectly hidden from passerby behind the blinding lights. It was one of those small local Queens theaters that had been around since the dawn of time, the kind that still used traditional signs, where even the color on the bricks had started to chip off. Red neon letters flashed cheerfully at them above the marquee. It was a chilly spring night.

"Alright, Spider-Boy; let's see whatcha got," the ghostly white Gwen teased with a wink.

“‘Spider-Boy?’ C’mon, that’s a low blow,” chuckled Miles.

“Hey, invisible guy successfully nabs us some snacks; then we can talk about upgrading your moniker," she giggled. With a flick of her wrist, a thin strand of web fluid whisked Gwen up to the roof, and left Miles alone on his vantage point, where he vanished with perfect camouflage. His gloves and boots squeaked on the glass foyer windows. There was quite a crowd...he had to squeeze quickly between the doorframe and a very fat woman in a fur coat, but no one was the wiser.

Both he and his girlfriend felt the pulse-pounding thrill of breaking the rules. A little bit of the old anxious butterflies flitted around their stomachs…what’s worse than getting caught? But they really shouldn't have worried. This was a world where superheroes, aliens, gods and monsters all ran around New York like it was their own personal Super Smash Bros. arena. All that Randall the overweight 15-year-old counter clerk thought about, when he saw a haunted bag of popcorn mysteriously sliding away around the gaudy orange wall corner, was the fact that he didn't get paid nearly enough to care.

Getting through the doors, crawling up the ceiling and behind the counter, and grabbing armfuls of food undetected was the easy part. The tricky thing was getting it all into the screening room. He & Gwen were already a few minutes late...a strategic maneuver. The way-too-loud trailers were audible outside the door. All Miles had to do was hide behind the back counter, wait for a break in the crowd, and sprint in and up the wall, resisting the urge to hum the sneaky Castle Garden music from Ocarina of Time while he did so.

All the popcorn bags, hot dogs, drinks, and what-have-you were webbed up all nice and snug in the back right corner of the theater's star-covered ceiling, opposite from the door and behind the other seats. A soft metal clunking sound that only his enhanced ears could pick up, like a knock on a metal door, lured Miles up back across to the overhang above the entrance. Even the walls were coated in carpet, but there was a single rectangular hole covered by a cheap iron grate, which led to the building's ventilation ducts. And behind it, smiling and waving at him, was his girlfriend.

"Hey there," she whispered. Miles' mask was lifted just enough that his mouth was visible. Even under the mask, though, he was clearly raising his eyebrows in that classic Dwayne Johnson way.

"Heeyyyyyy," he replied, trying to look cool and unaware that his face was wearing a patchy beard of popcorn kernels. Gwen bit her lip and tried not to smile too much...she thought it was cute.

“I can’t believe these dorks still haven’t noticed the opening is unscrewed!” It took nearly a full 30 seconds to crawl out and slide the grate back into place with as little noise as possible. Miles tossed Gwen a box of M&Ms, careful of the rattling. If the guy in the projection booth had looked down through the window, he might have noticed the snickering teenagers crawling along beneath his shadow.

It was like any other movie night, only huddled in the far corner of the room and fifteen feet off the ground. (It was some comedy movie, the details of which they barely cared about. Something to do with horses, a wedding, and Danny McBride eating a truck tire.) They whispered. They laughed. They stole each other's food. They tried to sneak looks at their smartphones, and always chided the other for doing the exact same thing. Miles almost tried the cliche "accidentally hold hands via popcorn bucket" trick, but he was too embarrassed...so Gwen smoothly slid her gloved palm into his anyway. In the dim blue glow, after all, he couldn't see her blush.

"Man, sitting this way is startin' to hurt my back."

"Heheheh...I'm gonna watch from here. You think someone'll notice?" Gwen said playfully. Grinning, the Ghost Spider raised from her place at Miles' left, crawled up above ("Hey! Where you going?") and sat down Indian-style right on the ceiling at his 10:00 position. Twinkling glow-in-the-dark stickers lit up the area around her. Despite her years of experience, she never really got over the novelty of being able to hang upside down whenever and wherever she wanted. When she fully demasked, both of the heroes laughed quietly at the sight of her blonde hair dangling toward the floor.

"Oh, so what, now you don't care about anyone seeing you?" Miles perked up instantly and tossed popcorn her way.

"Shhh! We've gotta still be quiet!" Gwen laughed back at him. The tension in her shoulders had wound down throughout the evening...she was feeling a little more mischievous.

"Oh, we do, huh? Yeah, we do?"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Miles' left arm reached up and poked her in the side.

These skintight superhero catsuits were many things, but one thing they were NOT: tickle-proof. Thankfully, a character in the movie had just cracked a joke, and everyone in the audience was in a fit of laughter…no one heard it when Gwen’s chipper giggle blurted out.

Her eyes bugged out of her head. Her hand slapped over her vulnerable spot. She tried not to show it, even (especially?) in front of Miles, but the universe-hopping Stacy daughter was remarkably ticklish; even gentle back scratches could make her squeak and writhe like a bowl of jello. And deep down, she hated the sound of her throaty, husky laugh. She always gasped so much; it almost sounded more like hiccups than laughter.

"Quit it!" she snapped, looking back at Miles. Her mouth looked happy...he loved seeing that little gap in her buck teeth when she grinned; it was so dorky...but her eyes were panicked. Which, of course, just egged him on.

As soon as she wasn't looking, her boyfriend stretched out his arm again and squeezed her belly with all five fingers, and Gwen doubled over, giggling fiercely.

"HNGHEE!!" she exhaled hard; all the wind was knocked out of her.

She kept shoving his wrist, hissing at him, trying to get him to cut it out, but he was acting like an obnoxious little brother in the back seat of a car...all that was missing was for him to squawk "I'm not touching you!" on repeat. Every time she moved Miles' hand aside to one place, he swung his arm back and pinched her side or jabbed between her ribs. Limbs flying everywhere...it was practically a slap-fight.

Poke...poke....poke. Over and over.

All these little touches were making her all tingly, building up a storm of hysterics that Gwen was struggling to contain. Her Spider-Sense was blaring a full four-alarm siren, for all the good it did against someone who was just as fast as her.

"Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle," Miles teased her in a cartoonishly high-pitched voice.

“S-stop it! We’re gonna get caught!” She was frustrated now. It was true…down below, patrons had begun looking around in circles, trying to determine where that annoying noise was coming from, and who exactly they should pelt with half-eaten nachos.

Sealing her lips tightly, Gwen held her breath and swiveled to face the screen again. She was anxiously rubbing her crossed ankles while fixated on the movie, an action that drew Miles’ eye to the seafoam green ballet shoes which lurked, upside-down, just above his hair.

Meh...that'll work.

Just when she started to take her mind off the chortles, Gwen gasped. A finger was tracing along the outer lip of her right shoe.

"Don't...you...dare..."

Miles' hooked digit clawed around inside Gwen's slipper and gently scratched the arch of her foot through her black spandex tights. She could almost feel the electric tingles of his venom-touch buzzing up her leg…it made her whole body jitter, and she jumped nearly hard enough to unstick from the ceiling.

“HAA-Huh! *gasp*wheeze* Huhuh-Heheh, Haha! St-hop!” Gwen snorted loudly and clapped her hands over her mouth. Her flailing legs untangled from their self-made pretzel. “Heehee-Heh, Huh-Huh! *gasp* Heheh!”

She froze. A cold fear dripped down Gwen’s neck. Internally, she was shooting off every curse word she could think of. After a moment to catch her breath, once her laughter subsided, Gwen slowly opened a single eye…

…and there, below her, was her worst fear. The crowd was staring up at her, trying to make out the girl-shaped shadow in the theater’s back corner.

"Hey, it's Spider-Woman!"

"Woo! Spider-Girl, down here!"

"Wait I thought she was called Ghost-Spider..."

Thank god it was dark enough that no one could see her face properly; her mask was back on in milliseconds.

"Oh, shit shit shit; Miles, we've gotta - " Gwen quickly snapped her head to the side, but there was nothing there...nothing but an empty, dark corner where her boyfriend had once sat. He’d gone invisible and slipped out. The eyes of her costume narrowed into burning little strips of pink, like a pair of furious electric earthworms.

".....oh, you've gotta be freaking kidding me."

THUD!! BANG! Hard aluminum sheets buckled and wobbled under Gwen’s fingertips. She scurried through the air vents at a blistering pace, often sliding too far around a corner - CRUNCH! ow, that’s definitely an elbow bruise - and doubling back. Her legs nearly outran her arms, throwing themselves up and over each other, rushing to an ever-closer window of purple moonlight.

Her heart beat a thousand times a minute.

Freedom.

On the rooftop, Gwen yanked up her mask and sucked in the foggy night air. Breathing hard…whewwww….over and over. Its cool touch soothed the burning in her cheeks. Her slippers slapped against the stone and plaster. Alongside her own weary gasps, Gwen eventually heard another sound…one that made her temperature rise once more.

Miles, chuckling to himself right beside her.

“Heh-Heh…kind of a big change-up from how we met, huh?” he offered, a smug smile on his face.

"Miles!!" Gwen hissed under her breath, and slapped her boyfriend on the arm.

"Ow! Why you whispering? We're up here by ourselves."

“Uuugh. This is why you get in trouble with your dad! You are soooo lucky this universe doesn’t have mine. You seriously can't stop goofing around for more than 2 seconds even when...”

“So is that like your Kryptonite? You can’t win a fight if you’re being tickled?” laughed Miles. The question made Gwen go red in the face again. She was about to garble some kind of flustered protest, but something caught her eye and stopped her...from inside his sleeve, Miles produced some sort of shiny metal stick. It was kinda like those memory-erasers from that one dumb alien movie her dad liked.

"Well, you know...I was thinkin' while we were up here, maybe we could have a....uhhh, private show." Miles flipped over to the brick lip of the roof and squatted down. At his feet he placed the little silver tube, centered it, and clicked a button. "C'mere; check this out."

Along its side, a narrow slit opened up, pulsing a deep yellow color. Inside it, glowing photons waved back at Gwen like a sea of tiny stars, humming softly. A shower of light rushed up from the strip like an inverse waterfall until the little particles reached a rectangular shape, then scurried in all directions to paint the night sky alongside their far-off galactic brothers. Draped above Gwen & Miles, like a canopy, floated a holographic screen just for them. (Unknown to Gwen, exactly twelve feet below them, inside the projection booth, a red, spider-shaped, USB-compatible goober clicked into place against the room’s laptop. Its feed was being copied and streamed perfectly.)

"Wow......" Gwen seemed impressed, but paused when she realized….

"Wait, was this whole night just so you could show that gizmo off?"

"Ehhhh....maybe," shrugged Miles. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head with his left hand. But as she thought about it, Gwen wasn’t even mad. She just laughed all over again.

A little web pillow was all it took to make the setup complete. Grabbing a fistful of popcorn from the sole leftover bag that Miles had carried with him, Gwen laid back against the nearby roof fan and shoveled the snacks into her mouth, excitedly looking up at the big projector above. And her boyfriend plopped down just to her left side, arms crossed and relaxed.

Strangely, the noise of the insomniac city streets below, the feet clicking on pavement, the rushing and honking of cab horns, didn't bother them. The movie played perfectly alongside the calming sounds of New York, and there was something strangely enchanting about it. Reaching up, Gwen’s hands came to rest behind her head and propped her against the pillow, and she sighed contentedly. A sweet smile washed over her.

"You know…" she said, "...I think I do kinda like this better, Spider-Man.”

Miles often made himself sick with worry about how their relationship was going. She was sooo much cooler than him. What was the next step? What if he did something to embarrass her? But for a few moments, all those fears melted away while he watched the projector's light dance reflected on her cheek.

He also realized, as his prankster side whispered in his ear, he was in a perfect position to sneakily tickle her armpit without her noticing. Both her hands were behind her head.

Almost on a reflex, his index finger bent and slowly hovered toward her...

….but he suddenly thought better of it.

Nah. Let's just enjoy the movie.

[u5an5]

SCP : Sedition - SCP-035 [Tape 01]

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.

[START LOG]

_Viewing Area_

*Watch walks in to the room. Jacobs, Guards and Class D personel are already here*

Watch: Is this really necessary?

Jacobs: *turns to look at Watch* ...

Jacobs: *turns to Guard, nods* Send him in.

Guard I: *points his gun at Class D* Step back from the perimeter or I will shoot! *Guard leads Class D into interrogation room*

*Jacobs closes door behind Class D*

Class D: Ok. I saw the mask. C-can I go now?

...

Class D: Come on. I just want to get back to my cell! Open up!

...

Class D: Nothing else is happening! What's the delay?

Watch: *turns to Jacobs* It can take anything that looks human, why use a real person?

Jacobs: It gets results.

Class D: What do you want me to do? What is this thing?

Class D: *leans in in direction of 035, looks closer* … Why is it sad? 

Jacobs: <under breath> Gotcha.

Class D: *starts walking towards 035* It looks... Beautiful... So smooth... So delicate... and light...

Class D: I want it on... I want...

Class D: *puts on the mask*

*Class D falls to the floor, writhes and screams in agony*

*SCP-035 stands up*

SCP-035: Thank you boys... it's been too long.

Jacobs: (deep inhale) <softly> I think that's your cue.

[Rest bellow the cut]

*Watch walks into 035s cell. 035 is already sitting at the his own chair*

SCP-035: *stands up, extends arm to shake it* Hello there! Nice to meet you! And who might you be?

Watch: Not stupid enough to fall for that.

SCP-035: *sits down, nods* Absolutely right. So you've read my file. Which must mean the interview ban has been lifted? I never thought they would let me take a host again.

SCP-035: <musing> Funny... I don't remember seeing you before.

Watch: Probably because anyone who has been in contact with you has either committed suicide or died due to the fluids you secrete.

SCP-035: I'm very sorry to hear that, but I can't hold it in forever, you know? When you got to go...

Watch: You throw a tantrum until you get what you want.

SCP-035: And here I am. Only wanting to chat.

Watch: There you are. How long have we got?

SCP-035: Well that depends... How much decomposition can you stand? The last one decayed before the blackout could be fixed. I could melt this bad boy to the bone over a few hours, but you don't seem like the kind of person to see the humour in that.

SCP-035: <musing> Always down.

Watch: Nice party trick. We'll see how these questions go.

SCP-035: A risk taker! I like it.

Watch: Answer them. No grief, no manipulation, and continued interview sessions will be considered.

SCP-035: *stands up, exited* More? Real people too?

Watch: *turns to look at Jacobs* ...Yes

SCP-035: *punches air in excitement and sits down* Ha-ha! Sounds great! I'll hold you to it! C'mon, let's get started! I'm falling apart just sitting here.

_035s cell_

Watch: Why do you insist on contacting us? Why the urgency?

SCP-035: Come on, Watch. You can't expect me to be cooped up here all by my lonesome! I get very lonely! I'm a people person. I need to stretch my legs and socialise- Well, somebody's legs (chortles)

Watch: <flatly> Charming.

Watch: So while you're animated, we might as well have you answer some questions.

SCP-035: All work and no play makes for a dull audience. 

Watch: ...You done?

SCP-035: Sure.

_

Watch: Who was the first one to wear you?

SCP-035: Ah, Iphlicus. I haven't thought about him in so long.

Watch: Good friend?

SCP-035: Mmm. Beautiful, insanely talented, but such an introvert. Lovely family though; two boys and a girl. Wonderful wife. Oh, we made the best unit.

Watch: It's unusual to hear you speak fondly of someone you've possessed, as well as their family. Were you upset once he expired?

SCP-035: Oh, our partnership carried on for almost a decade.

Watch: Don't all of your hosts perish?

SCP-035: Like any good character, I can change and develop through time. Back then, I had a much simpler role than the star you see before you.

SCP-035: (sigh) <dejected> I was sad to see him go.

Watch: What happened to him?

SCP-035: Around 426 BC, we ventured to Crete for a performance and I was... discovered.

SCP-035: <disdainfully> By her.

Watch: Her? *looks at change of 035’s face*

Watch: <wary> Uh... I think we can come back to that later.

_

Watch: When you possess entities, do you inherit their memories and thoughts to add to your intellect, or are those discarded once they've expired?

SCP-035: *nods* Yes.

Watch: ...Yes... to what?

SCP-035: What you said. Y'know, I reckon we could spice up the decor around here! Some wallpaper, couple curtains, maybe a throw-

Watch: 035!

SCP-035: <teasing> Wow, touchy-touchy! Everything alright upstairs? You're looking a tad flustered.

Watch: *looks down* I just have a lot on-

Watch: *looks back up at 035* Need I remind you that we only have so much time...

SCP-035: Right, right. What was your question again?

Watch: When-

SCP-035: Oh, right! You're not too far off the mark. I have memories and thoughts that I've built up, sure. But the person's resolve, the power of their mind...

SCP-035: Determines not only the memories I access, but from what perspective I interpret them.

Watch: Can you give me an example?

SCP-035: Alright! Lets see this chap here. Simple, well-rounded humor. When he's not crapping his pants, likes to dance around the issues in his life.

SCP-035: Clearly, I'm reflecting his personality to a T. It's what I do, I'm just that great.

Watch: And if you possessed someone else?

SCP-035: *leans in* Someone like you?

SCP-035: *scrutinizes Watch* Hmm. Analytical, straight-forward, empathetic yet not too sympathetic. *nods* Clearly intelligent. You could take a while to digest.

Watch: I hear that from 682 all the time. So the mind and personality you control dictates how long the body takes to-

SCP-035: *points at Watch* See? *nods* Intelligent. Very strong indeed.

Watch: And if I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were coming onto me.

SCP-035: Is it working?

Watch: No.

_

Watch: Have you ever met anyone... resistant? Or maybe someone who simply never trusted you?

SCP-035: Whatever doubts people have about me fade away over time. On average, hmm... 10 minutes or so.

Watch: Quite the aura you have there.

SCP-035: What can I say? I'm a charmer!

Watch: <flatly> Clearly. Well... are there people who are not suited to wear you, or you would not want to be worn by?

SCP-035: ... Acne. Anyone with acne.

Watch: Oddly picky for a mask that secretes black ooze.

SCP-035: I have standards! And in the end, that's all I have once I'm alone.

Watch: Well, what if I had acne? Would you not want to possess me despite all you've said?

SCP-035: Interested, eh?

Watch: Don't twist this around. I'm just sceptical the true dealbreaker is acne. What about those without faces or even heads?

SCP-035: Like Mr. Headless? Hahahaha! Who said he doesn't have a face?

Watch: That's... interesting. Can you tell us more?

SCP-035: <teasing> Ah,come on, Watchie! You can't have me spend our quality time together talking about someone else all the time! I thought you wanted to get to know me!

Watch: I just want to-

SCP-035: Blah, blah, blah! Go ask him! You're here for me, remember?

Watch: (sigh) Moving on.

_

Watch: How do you manage to lure humans to put you on?

SCP-035: I'm irresistible, look at me!

Watch: ... <doubtful> Right...

SCP-035: Influence my dear! Influence. Imagery, presence-

Watch: Telepathic links, hypnotic commands-

SCP-035: <indignant> You would take the magic out of everything!

Watch: There's a science to everything. Just because we don't understand something, doesn't mean it's conjured out of nowhere. There's a process.

Watch: Even magic, while marvellous and breathtaking to the onlooker, is just another scientific process to the man behind the curtain.

SCP-035: *crosses arms, looks away*

SCP-035: *looks back, petulant* Your parents never read you bedtime stories, did they? Fantasy never factored into your childhood much?

Watch: My parents never got the chance. Fantasy takes a backseat, when you have to deal with the constant bombardment of reality.

SCP-035: I guess you should consider yourself lucky they never lived to see you become the unimaginative dolt you are today.

Watch: (chuckles incredulously) ugh...

SCP-035: Laugh while you can, I'm sure they're busy while they *eyes start glowing purple and lights flicker, voice gets demonic* burn in hell!

Watch: *moves back, startled* Woah!

Jacobs: Remain passive, 035 or I will terminate this! Now!

SCP-035: ... Ok! Ok! I'm calm. I promise.

_

_

Watch: How were you created?

SCP-035: Ah! I like telling this one. You don't mind long and drawn out? There's a lot of plot to cover.

Watch: That's what we're here for.

SCP-035: Excellent! Legend speaks that Hephaestus, Forger of the Greek Gods, was petitioned by Zeus to create a gift for the Muse Melpomene. Ah... How she used to sing the sweetest of songs and produce melodies so breathtaking it soothed souls from the bodies of mortals and Gods alike to far off lands and back again.

SCP-035: But one day, the only notes that left her lips were that of tragedy.

Watch: That sounds terrible.

SCP-035: This was true to her sisters as well, and so Thalia, Muse of Comedy and daughter to Mnemosyne and Zeus - Zeus had a lot of kids to a lot of women, he was a busy man - beseeched her father to ease her suffering.

SCP-035: So when Hephaestus got the order to make such wondrous gift, he used the laughter of Thalia to forge - dramatic pause - *spreads arms* Me!

Watch: Or so the legend goes. How do I know this isn't just a lie?

SCP-035: If you're gonna have an origin story, its always best to make it multiple choice. Besides, I lkie this one the best.

Watch: U-huh. So you were created by Gods... however self-serving it sounds.

Watch: So, what happened next?

SCP-035: They christened me Dýo Polonoi, which means "Of Two Poles" in Ancient dialect-

Watch: (chuckles)

SCP-035: What?

Watch: <amused> Nothing, sorry. Continue?

SCP-035: ...Okay?

SCP-035: Well... There are two certainties in Greek Mythology. One: Every major screw-up or story starts with Zeus getting horny and shagging some mortal, or trying anything to get in their pants.

SCP-035: Two: Hero hates everyone. I mean, even married to that prick, Hera was ruthless in pursuing revenge. Just ask Io.

Watch: Who?

SCP-035: Exactly. So when Hera hears Zeus' illegitimate daughter is getting a godly gift and she isn't, every heifer and its fly can tell she isn't going to be impressed.

SCP-035: So while I was being made, she snuck in with one of Melpomene's most mournful sonnets and threw them into the forge. My design was now flawed.

SCP-035: Instead of allowing her to feel joy, I would have accentuated her own sorrow, which probably would have driven the dear Muse to death.

Watch: ... Did you?

SCP-035: Hey, technically I haven't been born yet. This was just the conception stage. Luckily for me, Hephaestus saw what she had done and managed to steal me back before Hera could deliver me to her intended victim.

SCP-035: Unfortunately, centuries in a cramped Forge doesn't do well for the cardio and he kinda dropped me over the edge.

Watch: Wow.

SCP-035: Mhm... Wow. The details are a little hazy, again since I hadn't really been born yet, but I was found and passed from hand to hand until I found my way to the Theatre of Dionysus. The actors here used me for their performances.

SCP-035: And I brought out the best in everyone who wore me, which brought about my birth.

Watch: Birth as in activation?

SCP-035: I guess. Although that sounds far too artificial.

Watch: The first person to wear you birthed you?

SCP-035: Correct.

Watch: And in doing so, imprinted a personality that evolved with every person who wore you.

SCP-035: <snarky> You're so cute when you put the pieces together.

Watch: But surely someone noticed this.

SCP-035: Oh they did, but they didn't mind. I was a gift from the Gods, they said. *looks down* (mournful sigh)

...

Watch: It was Hera, wasn't it? She was the one who discovered you in Crete.

SCP-035: *looks up* I was convinced by many of the Cretan novices that I was in fact a fallen God. I foolishly purported the image, and several "followers'' prayed for my ascension.

SCP-035: She answered their prayers... with a gift from Poseidon. A tsunami.

Watch: I’m... sorry.

SCP-035: Two and half thousand years later, and I can still hear the screams. The bodies washing through the streets *starts glowing purple, lights flicker and voice gets more demonic and enraged* houses swept into the sea and you're sorry?! 

Watch: *placating* Calm down, easy. Easy.

*everything gradually calms down*

Watch: Do you need a break?

SCP-035: (sigh) No, no. I'm fine.

Watch: Okay. So what happened next?

SCP-035: She destroyed my life. So I dedicated mine to tearing down the only thing that brought her any power.

Watch: And what was that?

SCP-035: ... The Greek Empire.

_

Watch: Do you have any regrets?

SCP-035: Show me a being who has lived as long as I without regrets, and you will have found a liar. Of course I do. Fortunately, I've forgotten most of them. But I still feel them in my... heh... heart.

Watch: Anything in particular?

SCP-035: (long sigh) Burning Alexandria's Library.

Watch: ... *crosses arms, stares doubtfuly*

SCP-035: Well, not me directly. After Hera's wrath, I wanted to hit her and Gods where it would hurt the most. And where better to hurt them than destroy the works of humanity.

SCP-035: But like the dead swallowed up by the ocean, I could hear those books screaming as history in the making shrivelled up in flame. I helped the Romans destroy knowledge that humanity still has not rediscovered.

SCP-035: And the art? Oh, the art. I regret that dearly. 

Watch: I don't know whose wrath was worse; Heras or yours.

SCP-035: I repaid the Greeks in kind. The same voice that splintered their society was turned on their conquerors. The fire that destroyed Alexandria, I gave to Nero to burn down the Rome.

_

Watch: Do you have any connection to SCP-343?

SCP-035: (chuckles)

Watch: What's so funny?

SCP-035: I'm sorry. I'm ok now. So... 343 - God (snort). Look, we've not really been properly acquainted but... his reputation precedes him.

Watch: A completely different kind of drama queen.

SCP-035: Exactly! <in mocking tone> “I created the world!” “I have infinite power!”

SCP-035: It's not that I hate the guy, it's just that his style doesn't click with me. He has so much ego, and coming from me... that's saying something.

Watch: I will admit, from what I've read of the transcripts, he comes across less as a God... and more of a used car salesman.

SCP-035: *shrugs* To each his own. Makes you wonder, if he's a God, why hang around the Foundation? Surely there's more interesting things out there in the whole Universe?

Watch: It does seem like odd behaviour for a God. <to himself, musing> Is there something here he needs? Or something he's hiding from?

SCP-035: You said it, not me.

Watch: Hmm...

_

Watch: What are you thoughts on SCP-173?

SCP-035: Not much, beyond of what I heard. Sounds interesting, if a little shy. Breaks everything it touches. If my mother was around - that is to say if I had a mother - she'd say we were a lot alike.

SCP-035: Well... despite the lack of face.

Watch: I'm sure you could contribute to that. Sounds like you two would make a nice pairing.

SCP-035: Don't mistake interest and admiration for respect, m'boy. You seem far too intelligent to make that kind of a mistake.

Watch: Well thank-

SCP-035: Think nothing of it. Look... you may believe similarity is perfect for a duo, but I don't see the world like that. If I look for a partner, it's someone who can make up for my own shortcomings, not bring the same spiel I do.

SCP-035: If there's one thing I truly hate in this world, it's unoriginality. That's why I couldn't stand the Romans for too long. Whole culture was a cheap imitation of mine!

SCP-035: So I left the party... and kept the door ajar for Christianity. Big mistake embracing that guy, let me tell you.

Watch: What does any of this have to do with 173?

SCP-035: We were talking about 173?

Watch: (sigh)

_

Watch: How old are you?

SCP-035: ...

Watch: It'd be nice to have an official number…

SCP-035: What, do I need to spell it out to you? That's not how you weave the narrative, m'boy. I've given you the facts. Use them.

Watch: Well, your timeline seems pretty inconsistent. Some of what you say does fit the period, but the order in which you tell the things is... messy.

SCP-035: (sigh) What more do you want? I hand you an entertaining narrative and you throw it back in my face! Real considerate.

Watch: It can't be hard to-

SCP-035: <iritated> No, you listen here. I'm giving you my precious time, not the other way around! You want some answers, you better listen carefully and maybe start asking me some goddamn worthwhile questions for once!

_

Watch: What are your thoughts on SCP-001?

SCP-035: Pfft! <indignan> What kind of ridiculous question is that?

Watch: Almost always standard it seems.

Jacobs: Answer him, 035.

SCP-035: <petulant> Ask nicely.

Watch: You're not exactly in position to-

SCP-035: Oh, aren't I? I don't think you know who you're talking to.

Jacobs: Refuse to comply and I can make this situation much worse for you.

SCP-035: Melodrama won't get you far with me, buddy!

SCP-035: Want me to cut off at the neck? Allow me! *breaks his own neck by twisting his head back with enough force to fall out of chair*

Watch: *jumps back, spooked* Holy Shit! Jacobs!

_

[END LOG]

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[kusaka6e]

TUTOR

three | four | five

chapter list

———

the next day, you drive over to see your brother after your morning lectures, the cold winter air cutting through your clothes as you approach the entrance

you pull a mask over the bottom half of your face as you enter the building, thankful to be out of the cold.

"hey (l/n)! how are you?" the charge nurse waves from her desk, eyes crinkling into a smile from underneath her mask.

"hi suni, good to see you again."

you make your usual route down the hall, knocking gently when you reach the door.

"hey bub, you awake?"

"hi sissy." he paused his switch, smiling at you from his bed. you sigh, seeing the multiple bags of fluids on his iv pump.

"how come you're hooked up to so much stuff today?"

"the nurse said my platelets went down last night, so they're giving me more today." you nod, trying your best to not let any negative emotion show.

"i brought you something. the book store on campus got more in a couple days ago." you unzip your backpack and produce the next few volumes of a shounen manga your brother had been raving about.

"no way!! thank you!" he smiles brightly, wrapping his small arms around your torso. as you hug him back, you feel how much thinner he's gotten and internally sigh.

"do you like your nurses this time?"

"they're really nice! i don't remember her name, but the one from a few nights ago helped me get vending machine snacks." he's smiling brightly and talking with so much enthusiasm, you almost forget why you're there.

you stay for a couple of hours, playing games on his switch and talking to each other about schoolwork and other random things until he falls asleep.

as your packing up your things, there's a soft knock on the door.

"oh, hi (l/n)! i was just coming to check on him, you guys need anything?" one of the nurses you'd seen before whispers as she comes in

"no thank you, i'm just about to head out. can i ask you a couple questions?"

"of course." she nods away from the room, gently closing the door before facing you.

"is there any update on the waitlist thing?"

"because of his age, he's been made a priority patient on the waitlist; which is great! but, he's taking to this round of treatment fairly well. it has been tiring him out but the tumor isn't growing and there aren't any new ones."

"that's so great, thank you. and, thank everybody here from me, you all have been so wonderful."

"we're happy to help. you take care of yourself too honey, we'll see you next time." you give her a small wave before heading back to your car.

you glance up at your dashboard, cursing when you see '4:18' written on the clock. if you hurry, you'd only be a couple minutes late.

at 4:29 you fly into a parking space, throwing your car into park as you sling your backpack over your shoulder.

thankfully, baji is sitting at the same table you two were at yesterday, so it's not hard to find him once you enter the library.

"what was that you said yesterday about making an entrance?"

you glare at baji as you pull your notebook and a stack of paper from your backpack, brushing your hair out of your eyes. his hair is pulled into a bun, some baby hairs falling around his face.

"didn’t wanna be late." he grins, hearing the same words he said to you yesterday.

"i was looking at the notes you wrote me yesterday and i got confused."

"about?" you were greatful for baji not picking up on how stressed you were, or at least wasn't saying anything about it.

"how to get answers with this avo... ago... avor?"

"spit it out already." you giggle, his face twisted in focus.

"av... avocado's number. i don't know how to use it."

"avogadro's number. let me see the problems."

he noticed you looked stressed, different from your usual collected demeanor. given, this was only the second day he'd actually spent time with you. but, whenever he saw you with mikey or on campus, you always came off unbothered and put together.

"okay, we're gonna do some practice problems. you gotta know this to be good at stoichometry."

"stoich-y what?! i thought this was chemistry!"

"stoichometry is a part of chemistry, dipshit. it's just a fancy way to say dimensional analysis."

"that already sounds fancy, don't make it even more complicated."

"shut up and do the problem."

just like the day before, it takes him awhile, but all the problems get done without any mistakes after a number of tries and a multitude of questions.

"no celebration routine today?"

"not until i don't need your help with anything, remember?" he doesn't look up from having his head tossed back in exhaustion, long eyelashes fanning towards his eyebrows. you let out a small smile, surprised he remembered what you said.

am i blushing ?? ew

"well we've got a ways to go, but you're not doing too terrible."

"wow, thanks for the encouragement." he chuckles, lifting his head to look at you.

"i've gotta go but i'll see you next time, text me when you wanna meet up again."

"bye (l/n)." his eyes stay on you as you exit the library, sighing.

....

"what's got you quiet?" chifuyu raised an eyebrow at baji, lighting the joint in his hand.

"grades. chemistry sucks."

"how's that tutor mikey found for you?" he notices baji tense, smirking.

"she's really smart."

"and...?"

"and what?"

"is she hot?"

baji's lack of an answer makes matsuno laugh, letting a puff of smoke exit his lips.

"so, when are you gonna ask her out?"

"dude!"

"you're not? why don't you give me her number then?"

"i'm not giving you her number!" baji glares at him, jealously kicking in before he can try to keep it under wraps.

"i'm just fucking with you, i'm not gonna mess with her."

"it's not like she'd hang out with me other than tutoring."

"what makes you say that?"

"because she's so like.... together . she never seems stressed or mad, or sad, or anything."

"so? mitsuya comes off that way too, look how quick he is to knock someone out. i don't think you know her well enough to say that yet."

baji sighs, holding his hand out to chifuyu and taking a drag from the blunt.

"i guess it can't hurt to try, right?"

[morgana-ren]

👉👈 Spare thoughts on like Crystal Lake/Friday the 13thesque camp counselor au with the Lov or mainly Shigaraki. I was thinking about watching Fear street and suddenly this was all I could think about

So I wrote this bit and yes, I’m painfully aware it’s not plot-perfect or polished but I LOVE the concept and wanted to put something out for it to show my appreciation that you shared it with me. Warning: it’s very nasty and I took a lot of liberties here. I hope that’s okay. Tomura is the gross incel-y killer. It wasn’t QUITE Friday 13th style, more “creepy counselor gone mad” because when I started writing it, I was a bit out of it.

I hope it’s okay!

-

A slippery hand clutches yours- stark red and slicked with sweat and blood, trembling bones and quivering fingers- clinging to yours as if you alone could keep her anchored to her quickly fading lifeforce. She’s been stabbed repeatedly, but it’s the wound on her chest that pulses most noticeably with her breath; A font bubbling from the cleave a few inches beneath her collar bone, a scarlet brook staining down the front of her pastel camp uniform.

Her mouth open in a strangled, wordless cry: A petrified 'o' shape that seems terribly uncanny alongside her sallow cheeks, fear and pain reflected in her wide and panicked eyes as her grip on consciousness rapidly fades. Crimson stains her slippery ivory teeth, gurgling on her own bile as she struggles to make out a fragmented sentence between her presumably collapsing lungs and the blood pooling in her throat.

Her face, the perfect mask of fear covered in dirt and her own fluids, begins twitching, blinking tears through the muck that cakes her cheeks. The hand not wrapped around yours in an iron grip curls into a point -shaky and pale and borderline indiscernible- and it takes you a brief moment for you to realize she’s pointing directly behind you. It’s only then that you rip yourself from your traumatized stupor and hear the footsteps approaching from the cabin door.

You’re ready and willing to defend yourself if need be, shooting to your feet with lips pulled in a snarl, but you’re not greeted with the sight of a terrifying killer brandishing a knife: You’re met instead by the familiar face of your fellow camp counselor and long time friend.

“Tomura!”

You can’t help it. You throw your arms around his scrawny neck, almost knocking him over in your relief as you bury your head into the swell of his black hoodie. He’s a welcome sight- been close to you ever since you started attending even though he’s years older than you are, and he’s always made you feel better- safer somehow.

You’ve never been more happy to see him than you are now, thanking whatever God is looking out for you that he’s alive and that he found you. You squeeze him with every ounce of strength your little body can muster as he wraps his own gangly limbs around you and cages you to his chest in turn- almost too tightly.

“I looked for you! I couldn’t-“ Breath escapes you, tearing up in his embrace. “I couldn’t find you! I thought he’d gotten you too! I was so scared-”

He gives a firm shake of his head, shaggy silver hair ruffling over his shoulders. He reeks, as always, of slight mildew and something vaguely earthy- like ash or cinder, even as he hasn’t ever been allowed on fire duty. “No. He can’t be far behind though. We need to go.” 

“Okay!” You nod, wiggling free of his reluctant arms and dropping to your knees again by your wounded friend. “Just help me with Maureen- she’s really hurt- We need to get her to a hospital and fast-” “Leave her.” His knobby fingers encircle the rounds of your forearm, jerking you back to your feet at his side again with a bruising yank. ”We don’t have time- she’ll only slow us down.”  “How can you say that? We can’t just leave her here! She’s bleeding out- We can save her, we just have to-” 

A quick peek back at her and you realize she looks- if possible- more terrified than she did only moments ago in the face of death. She’s shaking like a leaf- Her wide, milky eyes focused in on Tomura as she attempts another gasped word.  “Look- Just look at her. She’s done for. Let’s go- I can keep you safe, I can-.”  “You don’t know that- You don’t know that- Please Tomura, we don’t have time to argue, just help me!” 

“I do know that,” He insists, trying again to tug you towards the door. “She’s in shock, and the blood loss is too much for them to be able to save her even if we could drag her out of here. It was obviously intentional. I can protect you but we need to leave now-” 

Your eyes flick back to Maureen and the pooling beneath her prone body that seems to grow larger by the second. Her mouth trembles, choking on the words that are trapped in her flooded throat. 

You shake him off once more and lean down to her as Tomura groans in what seems like, if you didn’t know better, annoyance. You ignore him, trying to coax her into your arms carefully, but she only quivers in your grasp, still trying to hiccup out something between her pained gasps and slipping mortal coil. 

“C’mon Maureen- You can make it, I know you can!” But she remains limply, dead weight on the cabin floor, more fearful of something directly in front of her than the inevitable death that awaits. You lean forward once more to try and get a grip beneath her arms to hoist her upward, but she holds firm, puffing a final wheeze in your ear that takes a moment to process.  “Him.”

Blood bubbles up through her throat following the words and she spits it up over her blouse, eyes going blank and body falling into limpness. The wounds across her body still ooze a steady stream of blood but the last of her spirit seems to still, light fading from her eyes in one final moment.

“Tomura, help-” Panic threads through your voice, still trying to drag her forward.

But he doesn’t move to help you. He only stares blank faced and cold as Maureen seizes in her death rattles; Her pallid fingers still coiled in an accusatory gesture at her side. 

“Please-”

“I told you, she’s dead.” He pulls you away by the collar like a kitten, knocking your center of balance clean from the sheer force of the grab as he coaxes you once again into his arms. “Can we go now? We need to go, need to get away from here-”

Something catches your attention, something solid in his hoodie’s kangaroo pouch that pricks you slightly as you fall into his chest. A slight sting on your arm as it collides with his torso. 

”Ow!” You pull away once again, his body stiffening as you inspect a fresh little cut on your arm where something sharp pricked at your flesh. “Tomura, what the hell is in your pocket? That hurt-”  ”Nothing! Quit wasting time- Come on! We need to leave.” 

“It cut me...” You pluck at the skin once more, hissing in slight pain as the small laceration pulls apart under your attentions. “Do you have a knife in your pocket?”  “What? No- well, yeah. I picked it up in the kitchens when I was trying to find you. I thought I could defend myself with it if he caught up to us-” 

You turn and narrow your eyes at him, shaking your head. “We don’t have knives that sharp. We have butter knives. It’s not safe for the kids, and after you got caught last time-”  “We have one, remember? The one we keep in the drawer for the barbeques.” “I looked! When the girls cabin scattered after the attack, I went and looked and it was gone!” “I must’ve grabbed it before you got there. Is this really important right now? We need to go! Stop being difficult!-”  “How is that possible? The boys cabin didn’t know anything was going on until we fled there when he attacked Stacy and Becky. You didn’t even know what was happening until- You- You weren’t even there-” 

“Well I have it, alright?” He interrupts you, face contorting into a sneer. “Shouldn’t you be happy? It means you’re not fucking defenseless if he shows up again.” “How-”

“Don’t worry about it!” He grabs your arm again, bruising grip deceptively strong for such a lithe man, crushing the bones in your wrist with his fingers. “Come on- Lets go! We can finally leave here together- You’ll be safe with me-”

Him

It could be the ferocious expression, or his demands that are cloaked in the facade of a benevolent request. Maybe his story that doesn’t add up or perhaps you’ve simply known all along somewhere deep down. Either way, It hits you in one terrible moment- one world shattering instant where everything suddenly clicks into place.

Tomura- quiet, eerie Tomura with the sharp mind and the eyes sharper still. Tomura with boundary issues who always found a reason to touch things he wasn’t supposed to. Tomura who only ever had a soft spot for you because you were kind to him when everyone else kept a mile berth. 

Tomura, who’s only friend to speak of is you.

‘He’s so obsessed with you! It’s fuckin’ creepy! You should get a restraining order before he, like, snaps and corners you and makes you suck his dick or something. He’s not even supposed to hang around with the younger group but he’s always following you around like a lovesick puppy.’

‘What? No he’s not! That’s a horrible thing to say! He’s a nice guy, you guys are just awful. You don’t even give him a chance-’

‘He’s always staring at you like he wants to eat you! I bet he’s the one stealing your stuff. I’ll bet he has one of those weirdo shrines to you in his cabin and jerks it over your picture like ‘Oh, oh yeah, ride me harder, oh fuck me faster- Oh!-’

‘You’re disgusting! He’s just nice to me because I’m nice to him! Everyone else is such an asshole to him- Including you! God, you guys are so fuckin’ mean for no reason! Just because he’s a little different-’

‘He gives me the creeps. He’s been like that since we were kids. Remember when he was a teenager but still only ever hung around you? He couldn’t even make friends his own age! Even the other councilors are wigged by him. The only one who even talks to him is you. I’m telling you, he’s a fuckin’ weirdo. There’s something totally off about him. He’s going to snap one day. We’re not the only ones that avoid him, you know-’ 

‘Fuck you guys. You guys are such fucking judgmental dicks. He’s never even done anything to you. You’re just a mean spirited bitch.’ 

Tomura who would sneak you into the woods and show you rotting animal corpses with macabre excitement in his wide red eyes. Tomura who used to sneak knives in his bag as a camper and show you how to sharpen and hold them until he got caught and the entire camp had to institute a new safety policy. Tomura who had to be scolded repeatedly for trying to sneak into the girl’s cabin as a young boy to try sleep next to you, and that it wasn’t appropriate for him to wait outside of it for you as he got older either. Tomura who has distain for everything and everyone in a world that shunned and rejected him in equal capacity. 

Everyone but you. 

Your friends are dead, slaughtered like animals and strewn across the camp in a grotesque tableau of vicious murder, the only knife in the area conveniently tucked in his pocket, his hand clasping your wrist in an iron hold that doesn’t ask, but demands you obey him. 

“Tomura- Tomura tell me you didn’t- You couldn’t-”  You’re shaking now, feeling more in danger than you did before the man in the mask who conveniently never chased you or even gave you a second glance even as he had every opportunity to do so. The murderer just as gawky and gangly as Tomura, lean, wiry muscle and imposing height almost too tall for his own body and manic, scarlet eyes. The killer who held the knife with the same practiced grip that he’d shown you so many years ago-

“What are you even talking about? Let’s go-” 

He rips you forward, taking you into his arms again and squeezing.

‘He’s going to snap one day-’

“Tomura- Tomura no! Tomura! God, please tell me you didn’t do this! Look at me and tell me!” 

He looks at you, mouth opening to form a sentence before abruptly cutting short. He studies your face, your quivering body, the blood across your cheek. You think, for a moment, he might break down. But he doesn’t.  He laughs. A nasty, cruel chuckle directed at you and only you; there’s no one else alive to hear it.

“You always were too smart for your own good.” 

The facade of panic and adrenaline falls from his pallid face, replaced with his stereotypical look of total nonchalance and almost boredom. Your stomach plummets, limbs paralyzed in abject terror as his pale hand reaches forward, thumbing at the swatch of blood across your face. 

“I had to, you know. Wanted to for years. But I had to wait until you were a counselor with me. Had to wait until I could do it before the kids arrived. Too many variables I couldn’t control. No one is coming for days, and they’re finally dead, and by the time anyone finds them, we’ll be long gone.” 

A stab of ice down your spine at his words, the uncanny horror of it all whirling your vision to a blurry abyss. “You can’t- what have you done? What have you done?”

“What I had to! They were insufferable and stupid- your harpy friends wouldn’t let us be. But now they’re dead.”

“-Have to get help- we need to call the police-“

“Stop being stupid.” He brushes the hair out of your face with a tender finger laden in blood. “We’re leaving here and never coming back.”

“You need to turn yourself in-“ you stammer. “They’ll know it was you, God, Tomura-“

“Do I look like I care?” A snarl lifts his scabby lips, bearing the sharp canines beneath. “I don’t give a fuck if they know. I hope they do. They’ll never find us. I’ve had so long to plan-“

“No! Tomura, this is insane!”

“It’s over. Come to peace with it.” He hisses, wrenching you even closer, his dry lips on the shell of your ear. “You’re coming with me, baby, and we can finally be together. You can finally show me all those dirty little things you never got the chance to because your friends made you feel ashamed.”

The edge of the blade in his hand flicks up through the thin threading that binds the top buttons of your counselor uniform, baring your cleavage and the top part of your bra to him. You scramble to try and cover yourself, but he’ll have none of it; he quickly swats your hands away and presses the tip of the knife to your sternum.

“I’ve waited so long for you-“ A ragged breath escapes him, chest shuddering with the force of the exhale. “To touch you. To take you. Do you know what it’s like? What you fucking do to me?”

“Tomura- this- this is wrong! Please! Please let me get help! We’ll get you the help you need- I will! But you can’t do this! It’s not right!”

“There’s only one way you can help me, babe.” The hand not threatening you with the knife slides down and squeezes your breast, your entire body stiffening in visceral disgust. “Something I’ve wanted as long as I can remember. If you’re eager enough for it now, we have some time-“

“No! No! Don’t- stop touching me! This is sick! They’re dead! Tomura- stop it!”

“They are. And I could never, ever hurt you, but I’m sure there’s someone still alive that I could to calm you down- to make you see sense.” He squeezes hard enough to make you cry out, nipple catching between his fingers through the thin fabrics you’re wearing.

You blink up at him, bleary eyes full of silvery tears that trail down the slopes of your cheeks. He doesn’t look like Tomura anymore- not your Tomura. He looks like something twisted and uncanny, some feral beast that’s inhabited your friend’s brain and driven him to the brink of madness. He leers down at you lasciviously, thick pink tongue swiping across his teeth and you’ve never felt more uncomfortable in your own skin under his gaze than you do right now.

“It’s not fair when you cry like that. I’m already painfully hard-“ He releases your tit in favor of clutching your wrist, bringing your trembling hand down to his crotch hidden by the length of his sweatshirt and forcefully rubs the length of his throbbing erection against your palm. “But it always did things to me when you got all weepy.”

You’ve been defending a monster.

“Remember when you would cry into my lap because that group of girls was mean to you and I had to keep adjusting you every few minutes?” He barks a laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “God, it was so hard not to sink you down on my cock right then. Fuck, I would have destroyed you if I let myself- all sniveling and delicate and weak. You always needed me to protect you, didn’t you? So trusting. Naive, really. You had no idea what I was thinking about at night. What I’ve been planning to do to you for years-“

You can only give a broken, disbelieving cry of his name- trying to bring back the boy you knew. The sweet boy. The shy one. The quiet one with morbid curiosities and wild ideas on the world.

“Your friends knew, of course. But you didn’t listen, you silly, dumb little girl. Tried to warn you, but you just wouldn’t listen. And now they’re dead.”

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you bastard! You’re a monster! You’re-“ You batter your fists uselessly against the steel panes of his chest and he barely even budges.

“Remember when you could come to the woods with me and I would show you all the cool stuff my dad taught me? You thought it was weird but you still came because you’ve always been so sweet to me. My dad’s dead now, but I made sure he left me his remote cabin. I’ve wanted to take you there for so long, and now I finally can.”

He advances on you and even in your rage, you instinctively backpedal. Before long, he’s got your back flush against the scratchy wood wall, toe to toe with you with his imposing frame trapping you to the surface behind you in a gangly cage of his spider-like limbs.

“Fuck- It gets me so hot when you act like a little brat. When you fight me even when you know there’s no way you can overpower me. You never could. Even when we play-wrestled. I could make you scream without even trying. So fucking precious to see you bare your teeth at me like you’re capable of lifting a finger against me.”

“I hate you- I hate you!”

“That’s okay, babe. I can learn to forgive you. Tell you what, why don’t you wrap those pretty lips around my cock and start sucking out my forgiveness with your sharp little tongue and we’ll take it from there.”

“Go to hell-“

“If I go, you’re coming with-“ He puffs into your ear, one hand swirling into the front of your shirt, the other slicing from hem to collar in one swift motion, leaving your torso bared to his greedy eyes. “I’ve earned you. You’re mine now- you belong to me and anyone who has ever tried to say otherwise is dead!”

And the worst part is he’s right. Maureen bubbles a lifeless pool of blood a few feet away. The ones who tried to fight slashed repeatedly until they were too weak to stand and died a slow, painful death into the grass. The ones that tried to run cut down from behind- a cowardly act that shows his true nature. You can scream and cry and wail your sorrows to the terrible moon that hangs through the trees, but no one will come to help you; there’s no one left. No one but him.

And no one is coming for days.

“I was going to wait until I got you home to fuck into your guts but you’re just not getting it, and I don’t think I can wait.” He thrusts the knife back into his pocket temporarily, opting instead to fumble with the front of his jeans. Dread pools in your stomach, threatening to overturn the contents into the filthy floor, but all you can do is watch in terror as he unzips the front of his jeans and fishes his pale cock from behind it.

“Go ahead and get on your knees for me and stick your tongue out. Think of it as a practice round.”

You shake your head, weakly resisting as he shoves you to the ground and taps the hot, purpling tip on your face, smearing his precum across your ruddy cheek.

“Don’t be shy. I promise once you get a taste, you’ll love it. You will learn to love it. You don’t have another choice. Just wait until I get you back home. I’ve learned so much since last summer. I can’t wait to show you.”

[nothorses]

Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I just thought I’d ask because Google isn’t very good-

What are some things that happen on T that you dont expect/think will happen/surprised you?

I know the obvious stuff like voice dropping and hair and muscle growth being easier, but idk what to expect other than those bits and I’m a bit nervous.

Sorry to bother you, have a lovely day! 💚

Ooh, okay. This is exactly why I kept a journal.

lemme start with the most helpful bit of info I received pre-T:

Skin oiliness/acne

Everyone has different experiences with this; personally, my acne actually cleared up completely for a few months when I first started. Now it’s back, and worse, but I’ve noticed it’s mostly around my mouth and chin- where beard growth is beginning. Also, upper back and shoulders. Those areas seem to be the typical ones, from what I gather.

I am definitely oilier, and I definitely need to shower every day. I recommend getting lotion for your back, and some kind of scrubber, and washing your face morning and night to deal with oiliness. I use basic face wash, toner, and moisturizer, plus I exfoliate and use a hydrating face mask 2 or 3 times a week. And benzoyl peroxide cream for the zits. That’s what was recommended to me & it’s working pretty well, but ymmv!

Cessation of menstrual period

This also varies for everyone, especially between gel and injections. I’m on injections, and mine stopped about three months in. It was also kind of a petering out; they might get longer or less intense for a bit before they stop entirely.

Body fat redistribution

This one takes a while and isn’t super immediately noticeable, but working out helps speed this process along. You may also gain weight when you’re first starting T, and most folks’ appetites increase as well. Mine certainly did- but then I started Adderall not long after, which has lessened it again.

Vaginal atrophy

This just means you begin to produce less fluid & tighten up. Lube is your friend, prep is your friend, just be kind to your stuff. You shouldn’t experience any pain or significant discomfort, but I was sort of dry/itchy for a month or so near the beginning, and lube helped with that. Talk to a doctor if it keeps going on and doesn’t get better in time.

Increased muscle mass/strength

This one can take a while to start, but I’ve heard that it can be tough to know your own strength when it does. Again, working out helps!

Changes in libido

My libido increased fast and hard. You will not be uncontrollable by any means, you will not become a sex-crazed beast, you will not lose your faculties or any of that shit people sometimes try to scaremonger with. It’s literally just that your regular hornyness happens more often, and might feel stronger as well. It’s also normal for orgasms to feel different after some time on HRT; less full-body, more specific to the genital region.

Some folks also talk about shifts in orientation. In my experience, the orientation thing has been true, but only because I feel more comfortable in my own body now! I’m more comfortable with the idea of physical relationships because I’m more comfortable with existing and being perceived physically. I have a better read on who I’m actually attracted to because I’m not on eight planes of dissociation from my own emotions and sense of attraction. It feels better, and more true to who I actually am.

Facial/body hair growth

This varies for everyone too! Body hair starts to thicken and spring up in new areas; I noticed it on my lower abdomen first. My leg hair seems to be darkening and thickening a bit, too. Facial hair can feel itchy and even hurt a bit when it first starts, but essentially it’s your peach fuzz starting to thicken up and grow longer over time. It can also be sort of patchy and inconsistent, and it can take multiple years for it to fill out into satisfying beard hair.

Give it time! Shaving won’t speed things up, but getting shaving materials a few months in isn’t a terrible idea. The patchy/inconsistent/whispy growth isn’t everyone’s favorite look to rock, and shaving can be a validating experience. Personally I like to let things grow, since I live alone and nobody sees me without a mask on, but it’s nice to have the option.

Bottom growth

I think this is weirdly one that folks don’t really talk about, but it is one of the more significant changes! Things may feel pretty sensitive pretty quickly (mine started within the first month) and it’s helpful to wear bottoms with some space in those first few months after you feel bottom growth starting. It can definitely be painful at times- that’ll chill out after a while, though.

I don’t want to get super explicit with this post, but it will essentially look a lot like a very small penis after some time. You need to take care to clean it- rinse, and use very basic, unscented soap very sparingly- and keep in mind that you may be prone to UTIs. Cranberry juice won’t do much, but cranberry pills will!

Deepened voice

This also started very early for me. My throat was sore almost immediately, and while there was no noticeable change in my voice, the soreness kept up almost constantly for months. My first “drop” was during my second month, though usually that happens the third month.

My voice was kinda scratchy and weak for a while, and it was hard to figure out where to speak; it sort of felt like I was just more inclined to use a lower register most of the time. Gradually, the higher part of my range started to become... “locked”? If I tried to speak too highly, my voice would squeak and crack. Now, it’s naturally much deeper, and I can’t speak above a certain register at all. There’s just no sound!

It can help to learn to speak from your belly, not your head, if you want your voice to be deeper. You may also notice that certain ways of speaking and certain inflections read differently as your voice changes; a lot of voice training for trans men is about using a flatter inflection. How you want to sound is entirely up to you, and there’s no wrong way to speak.

Also, low-T can make the voice change process easier and help preserve your singing voice, and may be worth looking into if that’s important to you. Changes will happen more slowly overall on low-T.

Hair loss/male pattern baldness

This was the one I was honestly afraid of, but the nurse I spoke to is also on T, and what he told me was that “hair loss” just means your hairline shifts to a more masculine shape. Nothing scary! Male pattern baldness is also determined by genetics; look to male family members for predictions on when that might set in for you, if it does.

Hopefully there’s some helpful info in there! It’s also 2am now, so I might just be unintelligible. Good luck, friend, and if you’re starting soon, congrats!!

[august-bleeds-red]

A Job Well Done - Part Two

Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair and Michael Myers wet their S/O’s whistle (NSFW under the line)

Part One (Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt and Vincent Sinclair) here

Jason Voorhees (2009)

Summer is dying, the leaves changing to auburn and yellow, and Jason’s machete lies forgotten against the maple trunk. The tree stands alone in a large meadow of long grass, painted gold from the fading season, its crimson coat of leaves like fire against the azure September sky.

 So many colours, yet the only shade you have eyes for is white.

 You trace the patterns of Jason’s mask with your fingertips, like you don’t know them by heart already, couldn’t conjure the image in your mind from anywhere in the world. His hand rests easily on your skirt, the tip of one finger just brushing your thigh. You take his hand in yours and press it against the swell of your chest, leaning forward to plant a kiss at the place on his mask where his mouth would be.

 “Jason.”

 He’ll never grow tired of hearing his name spoken in your sweet voice. You begin to push your fingers beneath the hockey mask’s edge, pausing to kiss the exposed skin when his body freezes in fear. You’ve only seen his face once before – the first time you met – so you understand his hesitation to allow you a second view. When you get to his mouth, you kiss his twisted lips with enough passion to still his breath, and his hands grip tightly to your upper arms, holding you so close you can feel his heartbeat against your chest. The mask falls to the ground, gazing with empty eyes at the romantic scene playing out next to it. You feel so small, so safe, wrapped in his muscular arms, the heart beating beneath his torn shirt pulsing with vibrant life for you alone. Your hand trails down the bulky layers of clothing and settles on the crotch of his pants, causing him to shift in embarrassment at the hardness beneath. He’s still not used to the idea that his attraction to you won’t be met with disgust on your part. You chuckle and rub a little harder.

 “It’s okay, baby.”

 Struck by a sudden impulse, you get to your feet and look around the empty field to check that it’s . . . well, empty. The only sounds for miles are the rustling of leaves and the calling of birds; not even the faintest rumble of traffic reaches all the way out here. You pull your dress off in one quick movement, revealing the modest bra and boy-shorts you’re wearing underneath. You’ve never been this exposed under open sky before, and your heart dances as you unlatch the clasp at your back. You stand before him exposed to the world, the sun on your shoulders, the wind gently ruffling your hair. He rises to his full, considerable, height, his eyes never leaving yours, and backs you up against the trunk of the tree. The bark presses into your bare skin, imprinting the soul of the woods onto you as Jason leaves his own marks on the side of your neck.

 “Hold still,” you whisper against his ear, dropping to your knees in the damp grass, your fingers already making short work of his belt buckle. He knows what you’re doing, although he can scarce believe it’s really happening. You, so pure, so perfect, blessing him with your beautiful lips and unconditional affection.

 He’s even bigger than you thought he’d be. There’s no way you’re going balls-deep with this one, that’s for sure.

 “A shower and a grower, huh?” you smirk up at him, appreciating the bashful expression that flits across his features.

 He tastes like the wild, of soft earth and clear spring water. He bucks his hips involuntarily and the back of your head bumps the tree behind you, making you wince and rub your scalp. Leaning over slightly, Jason cups the base of your skull, protecting you from further injury.

 “So thoughtful,” you smile, returning to your task, the shadow of his large torso now shielding you from any prying eyes. Not that anyone would need two guesses to know exactly what you were doing. You take him in as far as your throat will allow, and then a little further, so you gag a little on the thick head. He moans, deep and long, and you feel a surge of strange power – this giant oak of a man, brought to such tender passion by your hands, by your mouth. You run the flat of your tongue up the underside of his cock, feeling the bumpy veins against your sensitive taste-buds. You imagine how incredible it would feel to have this inside you, to have Jason pumping into you, spilling his seed into you, making you his and his alone.

 You can tell he’s trying not to lose control, but his knees are shaking from the exertion of it. You’re determined to snap that final straw. Keeping one hand on his shaft, you lick at his balls, sucking them in and rolling them between your tongue and the roof of your mouth. He braces his free hand against the tree and begins to rock his hips in earnest, and you let your mouth drop open enough for cockhead to slide in and out freely.

 He cums almost without warning, just two short spasms of his hips and your mouth is full of bitter-tasting seed, spilling out over your lips and dripping onto your exposed breasts. The sight of you coated with the evidence of his desires is almost too much for him. Swallowing what’s left on your tongue, you smile and wipe your lips as daintily as you can with your fingers.

 Jason’s fingers hover over your chest, clearly wanting to help with the clear up but unsure if fondling your breasts is the best way to do it. Collecting as much of the translucent fluid on your finger, you put it to your lips and suck, keeping careful eye contact with the stunned man the entire time. You laugh as he tackles you to the ground, his eager lips already working their way down your body, large hands pushing your legs apart.

 Looks like it’s your turn.                    

Bo Sinclair (warning: Daddy kink)

It’s not often that Bo condemns you to the garage basement, but when he does, you know its going to be a good few hours before you’re released. The man has the stamina of a jackrabbit and can go at least four times before he’s fully satisfied, or at least until he gets hungry and wants supper.

 You try not to think of how many less compliant girls Bo has restrained in the chair as he tightens the straps around your wrists. Now that he has you, any victims are given straight to Vincent for the museum, but you know there have been many who have passed through his room first. As you watch him secure your ankles in place, you marvel at how such a beautiful countenance can conceal such a dark and twisted history. But, for your sins (and his), you love him.

 “That not too tight for you, is it, sugar?” he asks. “Hate to mar this perfect skin of yours.”

 His large hands cover your wrists over the buckles, the sleeves of his shirt riding up just enough for you to see his scars. You shake your head and he flashes a wicked smile. The chair has a crank on its side that adjusts the height, and you can only watch as he turns it round and round, the entire mechanism dropping you further down towards the floor. Ah, so he was in this kind of mood. He’s already undoing his belt, the clinking of metal like an orchestral warm-up to the main event. Lifting one leg high, he plants it firmly on the other side of the chair so he’s basically straddling your shoulders, his head silhouetted against the ceiling light.

 “You go ahead and open those pretty lips nice and wide,” he says, stroking his cock languidly and rubbing the tip against your mouth. You know he likes to sing for his supper, likes to work for it a little, so you don’t give up the goods immediately, rolling your head to the side and keeping your lips firmly closed. Bo growls and cups your chin firmly between his fingers.

 “I said open,” he squeezes harder and your mouth opens a crack, giving him an in to force his cock onto your tongue and straight to the back of your throat. You cough and splutter a little, but he doesn’t want to break you when you’ve just started playing.

 “Y’like that, huh, bitch?” he moans. “Y’like taking daddy’s cock?”

 In this space, in this world of just you and him, the words send a thrill right down to your toes. He frames your head with both hands, keeping you in place as he fucks your mouth. The back of your head bumps against the chair and your fingers flex against their bonds.

 Bo hisses through his teeth, gripping and releasing your hair as he thrusts. “Fuuuuuck, babe. You feel so goddamn good.”

 Reaching behind him, he forces his hand under the waistband of your jeans, two thick digits probing your slit, coming away wet.

 “Such an eager slut,” he grins, sucking your juices from his fingers with obscene pleasure. “You’re so wet for my cock in your little whore mouth.”

 You whimper around him, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, your tongue slick with precum. His rhythm is becoming more erratic, the dirty names coming thick and fast in the way they always do when he’s about to cum inside any of your holes. In these moments, he might call you a slut, a whore, a filthy bitch, but you’re his, goddamn it, and he’ll mark you as his territory a thousand times to let the whole world know it.

 You screw your eyes shut tight as he cums in the back of your throat, forcing his hips as far forward as possible to ensure you can’t spit any of it out. You’re gasping for air when he finally pulls away, mascara smudged under your eyes, your hair tangled from his grasping fingers.

 His eyes turn soft as he bends down to kiss you, fingers toying with the straps. “You want outta these?”

 You know the answer he wants to hear, and this time, you’re gonna give it to him. His grin turns wolfish as you shake your head.

 “That’s my girl.”      

Lester Sinclair

“No offense, sweetie,” you say as you pull away from Lester, “but you kinda stink.”

 He pulls a face and sniffs unceremoniously under his arms. “Ain’t no worse than Vinny.”

 Okay, not true – the worst Vincent smells like is an accident in a Yankee Candle shop. “Well, I don’t share a bed with Vincent. In the tub, mister.”

 Since you moved into the Sinclair family home, the extra efforts Lester had made during your courtships seemed to have slipped slightly. Not that you minded, really – you loved him anyway – but it was nice when he wasn’t sporting Eau de Man Smell.

 “Tell you what,” you purr, running your fingers down his shirt to rest over his belt buckle. “You hop in that tub, and I’ll do things that Vinny will hear from the House of Wax.”

 Like a racoon into a garbage can, Lester rips off his shirt and hops in the direction of the bathroom, one foot already tangled in the leg of his jeans. By the time he emerges, skin pink from the hot water, towel wrapped around his waist, you’re waiting on the bed. His dark eyes sweep over your body, naked and ready for him, and the bed practically bounces off the wall in his eagerness to reach you.

 “Lie on your back,” you instruct, pulling the towel apart to reveal his dripping cock. He watches you with thinly-veiled adoration as you start to lick the head, fingers squeezing and rubbing along the shaft.

 “Baby,” he strokes your hair and you raise your head to meet his gaze. “Turn ‘round.”

 A knowing grin on your face, you swivel to face his feet, giving him a front-row view of your soft, moist slit. His hands on your hips ease you backwards, far enough for his tongue to reach you, and you lean down to take his cock back into your mouth. At this angle, it slips easily to the back of your throat, just big enough to make you gag when you try and hold it there too long. You moan as his warm tongue licks at you, inside you, and the vibration of your voice sends a thrill running through his body. As you bob up and down, licking the head of his cock like a popsicle, he alternates between worshiping the folds of your pussy, and sucking on your clit. The sheer intensity of his administrations combined with the taste of him on your tongue has you almost whimpering with arousal. You take him in as far as you can and swallow around him, making his hips buck and drawing a choke from your throat.

 “Ah shit, baby, that’s feels so fucking good,” he moans, breath warm against your sex. You cum first. Lester feels the muscles inside you contracting again and again around his probing tongue, and soon after empties himself into your waiting mouth. Adjusting your position to right-side-up, you snuggle into his side, his arm holding you close, and breathe a contented sigh.

 Sure, it might be a little annoying having to remind him to bathe, but if this was the pay-off, it was fucking worth it.          

Michael Myers (warning: Michael likes it rough)      

As the door slams shut, every muscle in your body tenses in the fight-or-flight response you’ve grown to ignore when around your boyfriend. When he’s in a good or apathetic mood, you never hear him coming, but when his mood turns sour, the foundations of the house rattle.

 He’s dripping blood as he looms in the doorway, six-foot-eight of chest-heaving, seething anger. Usually an evening of mindless slaughter is enough to sate him in a dark mood, but when that fails, it comes down to you. You love him – you’ll always love him – but in these moments, you can’t deny the fear that spikes at the back of your neck.

 “Hey, babe,” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “You . . . welcome home.”

 You try not to wince as the bloodied knife in his hand sails through the air to land with a deadly *THUNK* in the wall behind you, dark crimson oozing down the wallpaper. You’ll have fun trying to explain that to the landlord.

 “Michael—”

 He crosses the room in three long strides, grabbing you by the elbow and yanking you to your feet.

 “Ow! Hey, what’re you—”

 Grabbing the back of your head in one enormous hand, he smothers your lips with his, forcing his tongue in deep in a kiss that tastes of blood, his teeth grinding cruelly against your mouth. It has the desired effect, stealing your voice as he drags you through to the bedroom and throws you down onto the bed. Still trying to catch your breath, you watch helplessly as Michael rips down the zip of his jumpsuit, pulling it down over his shoulders. His mask is thrown into a corner of the room, his long hair falling loose around his face. You catch a brief glimpse of his hard, muscular body, straining against the fabric of the black T-shirt he wears underneath, before he grabs a fistful of your hair and wrenches you onto your back, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for you to know you’re to Stay Put. Your head hangs over the side of the bed and, from your upside-down perspective, you can see him working his long, thick cock into hardness.

 Oh boy.

 You just have time to open your mouth before he’s pushing inside, sliding easily to the back of your throat and then still further. Since you got together, your deepthroating skills have had to evolve quickly. Fisting handfuls of the bedsheets, you catch the smallest of breaths before his pace quickens, fucking your throat as he would your pussy, drawing out those deep, wet choking noises from you that get him even harder. He rumbles deep in his chest, hands wrapped around your throat to keep you in place, thumbs pressing on the spot where he can feel his cockhead bulging against your skin. He pulls out for a moment to let you gasp and cough before plunging in again, one hand at your neck, the other roughly fondling your breasts. You clutch at his thick wrist like a lifeline, nails digging in. Your eyes are streaming, your throat already raw from such a brutal attack, and you know this is just the first of many assaults.

 Michael swears under his breath, voice low and animalistic, his body tensing like a marble statue as he cums directly down your throat, the taste barely touching your tongue.

Sinking to his knees beside the bed, you take a moment to catch your breath before rolling over and reaching out a tentative hand. His strong fingers grip yours – to stop you or feel your touch, you can’t tell – dark blond hair obscuring his face. Slowly, he draws your hand to his mouth, not to kiss, but to simply feel against his lips. It’s not always easy, having Michael Myers be the owner of your heart, but you’ve no desire to claim it back. Not when you know, in your soul, that you own his in return. He doesn’t push you away when you stroke his hair, even going so far as to move a little closer.  

 “It’s okay,” you say, your voice hoarse. “You’re home now.”  

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed this! Also taking requests.

[tothemeadow]

THE REQUEST ARE OPEN AGAINN!! AHHHH CONTINUATION OF PILLAR BODY SWAP THANKYOUUUU

‘switch ‘em up pt. 4′ / Pillars x Reader (now with the Kamaboko Squad!)

warnings: none

words: 2,243

(a/n): I just wanna thank the lovely anon that gave me the idea to this plotline; it helped a lot!

-

for reference: Giyuu/Shinobu | Gyomei/Mitsuri | Obanai/Tengen | Sanemi/Muichiro | Kyojuro/you

-

“I’m not sure I understand entirely,” Tanjiro confesses, his eyebrows furrowing. “So you’re looking for some special type of herb?”

“Precisely,” Shinobu says.

Overhead, birds chirp and flood the skies, hopping from branch to branch and competing each other with their harmonies. A delicate breeze sweeps through the area, carrying loose leaves and the crisp smell of nature. On any other day, you’d love to come back; however, considering the circumstances, you’d rather not be here.

After much discussion on what should be done to return everyone to their normal bodies, Shinobu voiced an idea that may work – finding a special herb and using its medicinal properties. It’s a bit of a longshot, but it’s not like anyone else has any other better idea. And whether the others voiced it or not, everyone is secretly wishing that this magical plant will bring a miracle.

As such, you and the rest of the Pillars take the trip to Mount Sagiri; Tanjiro insisted he tag along since he knows the area well, plus he wanted to help. Of course, this meant traveling with his two friends, Zenitsu and Inosuke. Truthfully, it’s quite a crowd you’re traveling with, but it should prove to be useful to have extra eyes searching for the herb.

“Giyuu knows this area as well, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find it!” Tanjiro chirps, looking to his friend. Although Giyuu is still stuck inside Shinobu’s body, he looks away, a light blush dusting his face. “Plus, Urokodaki-san should be able to help us!”

“Wait, that old man who used to be the Water Pillar?” Tengen questions.

“Don’t disrespect him,” Giyuu abruptly snaps. The muscle in his jaw ticks. “That is all I ask.”

At that, Tengen lets out a drawn-out whistle. “Damn, alright. Don’t tear my head off, waterworks.”

“Waterworks? What kind of name is that?” Sanemi speaks up. “I think you’ve been inside of Obanai for too long, Tengen. Your insults are starting to turn lame.”

“Fuck you,” Obanai mutters.

“It’s not my fault Obanai doesn’t possess a flamboyant sense of humor!”

With a sigh, you watch on as Tengen, Sanemi, and Obanai start bickering. Frankly, you don’t know why they’re even putting in the effort. Everyone is stuck in a situation that they don’t like, so what’s the point?

Beside you, Zenitsu wrings his hands, an uneasy expression crossing his features. “Uh… Kyojuro? Wait, wait, sorry – (y/n)?” You hum in response. “Are all the Pillars this… tense? Like, normally?”

“Heh. Well, not really. Sanemi’s always got a stick up his ass, and Obanai’s just naturally edgy like that,” you tell him. As you look to him, it strikes you as odd to have to look down at him. You’ve otherwise grown used to the height difference, but it still takes you aback sometimes.

Zenitsu snickers. His unease melts away, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “When you put it that way, it sounds just like that moron Inosuke.”

“Oi! Who the fuck are you calling a moron?!” Inosuke barks.

Quirking an eyebrow, Zenitsu shoots you a bored look. “See what I mean?”

“We’re here!” Tanjiro exclaims.

Having been distracted from the short conversation with Zenitsu, you’ve completely ignored your surroundings. Cursing yourself internally for being so careless, you look ahead, taking in the sight of a small home with an even smaller garden next to it. So this must be Urokodaki’s home, huh? How quaint.

“This doesn’t really look like much,” Muichiro voices. Shifting his attention to Giyuu, he cocks his head. “So this is where you were trained?”

Giyuu nods stiffly. The look on his face – Shinobu’s face – is, well, vulnerable. You haven’t seen him show so much emotion before, and it’s a bit startling. If you’re being entirely honest, it looks as though he’s ready to throw up everything that’s inside his gut.

“It’s just as I remember!” Tanjiro chirps. “It’s nice up here, don’t you think? The air gets thinner from here on up, so please be careful when scaling the mountain.”

As if on cue, the door to the house slides open, revealing an elderly man with a tengu mask adorning his face. The air about him demands respect; it’s more than obvious that this very man was a Pillar, and a strong one at that. You watch on as Tanjiro and Giyuu step up towards the house before dropping into respectful bows. Tanjiro’s movements are much more fluid, more comfortable. Giyuu’s are more… wooden.

“Tanjiro, my boy!” Urokodaki greets. Ushering Tanjiro closer, he greets the young man with a hug. “…Who’s this fine lady with you?”

Tengen laughs.

“Urokodaki-san, it’s me,” Giyuu grumbles. “Giyuu…”

Although you can’t see Urokodaki’s face, you have a pretty good idea of what it’s like. The man falls silent, glances from him to Tanjiro, then he scans over the group behind him. Sure, you can’t blame him for being skeptical; a random swarm of people showing up to your house unexpectedly is bound to raise some questions. However, these are all Pillars he’s dealing with. This isn’t something to take lightly.

“Urokodaki-san,” Tanjiro begins, “we need your help. We’re not entirely sure how, but all the Pillars switched bodies with each other. It’s been like this for a number of days now, and we don’t know how long it’s supposed to last.”

After another moment or so of silence, Urokodaki sighs and crosses his arms. “Listen, kid, that seems a bit… much, don’t you think?”

“It might be some sort of Blood Art!” Tanjiro rushes. “Please, Urokodaki-san!”

Again, another sigh. “So everyone is in another body than their own? Haven’t heard of an ability like that before, but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.” Nodding in Shinobu’s direction, he says, “So, that’s Giyuu’s body, but it isn’t him?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Shinobu tells him. “Believe me when I say I don’t want to be in Giyuu-san’s body more than I have to.”

“Ehhh?! What’s with all the talking!” Inosuke bursts. “You guys said you wanted to find a plant, not talk to some old coot!”

“Inosuke!” Tanjiro scolds, but he’s too late. In a blink of an eye, Giyuu practically materializes right before Inosuke, his fist colliding with Inosuke’s gut. There’s a loud groan of pain as Inosuke drops to the ground, his hands clutching onto his stomach. To the side, both Zenitsu and Tengen break out into fits of laughter.

“I told you not to disrespect him,” Giyuu grunts.

“Ohoho!” Kyojuro booms, just as loud as always. At this rate, he’s going to blow out your vocal cords before you can get them back. “How loyal, Giyuu! I’m impressed!”

Rolling your eyes, you break away from the group, opting to join Tanjiro. “Urokodaki-san,” you greet, giving a polite bow, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Listen, I know this is a complicated situation, but we really need to find this plant. It’s crucial that we do.”

Urokodaki hums. “I know you – you’re Rengoku Shinjuro’s boy, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Well, technically – but I’m not Kyojuro. I’m (l/n) (y/n), the Wild Pillar.”

“You’re not? Figures. This whole “switched body” conundrum is making my brain work in ways it hasn’t worked in years.” Urokodaki waves a dismissive hand at you. “Whatever. If all of you are willing to look for such a plant, feel free to scale the mountain to your heart’s content. I’ll get dinner started.”

“Thank you so much!” Tanjiro chirps. After Urokodaki slides the door shut behind him, the two of you turn back to the others, smiles plastered on both of your faces. “Everyone – it’s time! Let’s turn you all back to normal!”

-

After hours of searching, no one has come up with anything. Granted, a vast variety of edible plants line the mountain – all of them useful in one way or another – but it’s not the dreaded silva you’re looking for. Shinobu said it was vine-like, with delicate leaves shaped like bells. The only you found worth of any interest was watching Inosuke eat almost every mushroom he could find and crack open acorns like they were nothing.

Soon, the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of peach and berry. The view was simply breathtaking, and you had to stop to take it in for a few moments.

“It’s always been like that,” Giyuu says quietly. Stopping next to you, he gazes at the setting sun, a wistful gleam in his eyes. “Most of the time, we were too busy training to watch it, though.”

Now that you think about it, Giyuu has been acting weird ever since arriving. Call it intuition, but you’re almost positive that he was feeling guilty about something. And he said we instead of I, so that only confirms your suspicion. Glancing around, you imagine a younger Giyuu descending the mountain, panting like crazy in the thin air, narrowly avoiding the numerous traps Urokodaki set up. If he experienced anything like the pain roaring in your back and sides right now, you’re amazed he dared to set foot back on this very mountain.

“Thinking back to simpler times, huh?” you ask, voice soft.

Giyuu scoffs. “The training was far from simple, but yeah. Things were a lot more different then.”

As if acting on its own, your arm slings itself around Giyuu, tugging him closer and holding him against your body. With him in Shinobu’s body, he’s so small, his head nestled against your chest. At first, he tenses up, but then slowly relaxes in your hold. Ever since switching bodies, you’ve noticed Kyojuro’s personality starting to bleed into yours. Hell, even his body is trying to one up you.

“I miss him,” Giyuu whispers.

Your heart drops to your stomach at his tone. “…Who?”

“Oi! Are you two just gonna stand there or are you coming back down?” Sanemi snaps.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you pull away, but you keep a hand on Giyuu’s forearm. “You’re helping me down, got it? This mountain gives me the creeps and I don’t want to get rammed by another damned log. Seriously – how did Urokodaki-san even set them up?”

Despite the saddened glint in his eyes, Giyuu manages to crack a smile.

-

The inside of Urokodaki’s house is cramped, but it’s also very homely. Scattered around the living area, each person more or less sticks to themselves, too much in pain to engage in lively conversation. Shinobu treats to the wounds, making sure bones are intact and intestines didn’t take too much of a beating. The only ones completely unaffected are Tanjiro and Giyuu, but that much is obvious.

“So what now?” Mitsuri asks. Still in Gyomei’s colossal body, she’s probably one of the Pillars that’s had the most trouble adjusting to her new form. “We’re not going to give up looking, are we?”

“I didn’t think it was this rare,” Shinobu admits. “Perhaps we were looking at the wrong spots on the mountain? It’s possible.”

“Take a breather before springing back into motion,” Urokodaki says. Sitting before the hearth, he absentmindedly prepares some tea. “Think, plan, then go about your business. A mindless game of hide and seek isn’t going to produce any results.

“Mmph! Mmph!” Nezuko agrees (or you think so, anyway). You’ve only met her a handful of times outside of her box, but you enjoy her company very much.

“Wait,” Shinobu suddenly says, snapping upright. “Urokodaki-san, what’s that you’re grinding up right now?”

Setting down his mortar and pestle, Urokodaki busies his hands with plucking apart wildflowers. “It’s silva. It grows right out here in my garden.”

At that, Shinobu’s draw drops. “By the gods-“ She facepalms, then, and groans. “That’s the herb we were looking for! You’re telling me that it’s been down here the entire time?!”

“Why didn’t you say what you were looking for?” Urokodaki says. “Could’ve saved a lot of time.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sanemi curses.

“That wasn’t very flamboyant of you,” Tengen chimes in. “I agree with Sanemi – this is bullshit.”

Urokodaki shrugs. “And how is that my fault? You’re all Pillars, are you not? Shame on you for being unobservant.”

“Urokodaki-san, please,” Tanjiro says.

“Alright, alright, fine.” In a couple of minutes, he prepares the tea as planned and pours it into a number of ceramic cups. “Since you’re all on my ass about it, drink up.”

“Uh, should we really be drinking this…?” Zenitsu squeaks, staring down at his own cup.

“Stop being a pussy!” Inosuke cackles. Tipping his head back, he downs his tea in one go.

Everyone more or less follows suit, taking sips of their own tea. As you set your own cup down, you feel the beginning of a warm, pleasant sensation in your lower tummy.

“Hey, Shinobu?” Tanjiro asks. “Is the herb supposed to make you feel sleepy?” At his words, Nezuko slumps to the floor. One by one, all the others drop like flies, yourself included.

Some time passes before your eyes crack back open. The inside of Urokodaki’s house is dark; from the crickets chirping and an owl hooting nearby, you quickly realize that it’s nighttime, and it’s probably late. With a groan, you sit up, dragging a hand across your face in the process. Wait… that’s not your hand, and it’s not Kyojuro’s either. Squinting through the darkness, you’re able to make out slight details, but it’s enough to make your heart sink. The herb didn’t work.

You’re in Giyuu’s body instead.

[bored-storyteller]

Thank you dear Anon for your request! Also because, I had already started writing a possible sequel on my own, your request arrives perfectly!

Note: I imagined these events after the one-shot you find here. In any case there are only subtle references.

35- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x human!Reader (pt. 2)

"Beyond the Mask"

Uta sees you there, curled up in the chair in front of the table like a wet little bird, despite the fact that you are now wearing his warm clothes, which fall softly on your frightened figure. He doesn't mind lending it to you, on the contrary, he tried to find something that wasn't too extravagant, coming out with a heavy black sweatshirt and wide gray pants. He thought that this clothing could help you put yourself at ease, but he also understands that being wrapped in his clothes for you doesn't have to be so reassuring. You probably accepted this only to avoid being immersed in the nauseating humidity of the body fluids that stick to your skin.

He can't tell if your following him was a sign of courage or fear. You didn't say anything, and the few words you whispered were kind; you also thanked him. It almost seems like you are straining to try to be calm, but it's the small, meaningless gestures that betray you. Earlier you insisted that he be the first to shower and change, although it would have been more logical for you to go first; yet perhaps for you that was a way to get the killer monster out of sight, or at least partially forget it.

Uta is unable to understand you right now, nor does he really pretend to, he is already grateful enough that you are intelligent enough to understand that it would be almost suicidal to return to your home in the condition you were in, especially after what it happened.

No, he doesn't pretend to understand you, but to understand himself a little more, yes. Uta is a labyrinth, with a thousand streets inside, which intersect and cancel each other out. A thousand paradoxical streets where after a turning point you can find someone completely different than the person you met. Yet all those roads are authentic and sincere, in their sweetness or in their violence.

He is aware of this, it is clear to him, but as the owner of his soul he should know how to pull the strings, understand what is happening inside. Yet he doesn't know now, or he can't really explain it.

He feels sadness, a deep sadness to see you so small and afraid. He would like to hope your snuggling up to him in that alley was dictated by mutual trust and not despair, but he doesn't even know if you're aware of that. He doesn't really want you to be scared of him, but at the same time he sees no way to stop it.

He also feels angry with you. Because deep down he knows that you are unconsciously judging him. The same fear you evidently feel makes him angry. He didn't eat you, right? So why do you have to be so scared in front of him? It was you who ran into his arms, wasn't it?

Yet he still can't tell you that, because you are doing absolutely nothing threatening towards him. You simply indulge him timidly, tremblingly accepting his care that will never be able to reassure you.

Maybe you've never really felt as confident in him as Uta hoped. Being in his house, first naked in his bathroom and now in his clothes maybe it wouldn't have been pleasant for you even if he had been human, let alone now with all the terror you've accumulated… after what you saw.

Uta is the author and accomplice of things that you would consider horrible, it is his nature, he is not able to change, he needs that to feel alive.

But you also make him feel alive. He likes that cordial, playful confidence that you take with him, the one that remains within limits, but which somehow transmitted the affection of a kind heart; like that time, when you playfully smeared his nose with red paint with the brush you were using. You apologized right away, but you laughed happily and enjoyed watching him, and Uta liked it, so much that he returned the favor with some yellow color.

You are spontaneous, and he likes it, even if now this spontaneity of yours is pulling you away from him, even though you try to pretend it isn't.

In the end, he really wants to take care of you. But how can he do it? He can't even really offer you anything other than a cup of bitter coffee.

He looks for a moment at his own reflection in the dark drink, so indistinct and blurry, before placing the cup on the shelf in front of you slowly.

You look at him suddenly, as if you have just woken up. Uta smiles kindly at you: he has always been kind to you. You smile at him too, but he could swear that you only do it to please him, for fear of a negative reaction from him.

He would really like to sit in front of you, so he can talk as you do every time you meet in the coffee shop, but he instead leans against the wall with his back, a wall quite far from your warmth and your presence. He too has a hot cup in his tattooed hands, but he doesn't really want coffee; maybe he just hoped that if he drank something familiar to you - something that didn't speak your language before he was devoured - you would trust again.

You take a sip, probably more out of politeness than out of desire, and your expression turns into a small involuntary pout as you perceive the bitterness of the coffee on your tongue.

Uta would find it funny if it weren't for the whole situation.

"I'm sorry…" his quiet voice of him draws your attention to himself. He doesn't really know what he's apologizing for. "I have no ... sugar ..."

The relaxed musicality of his voice is slightly cracked by uncertainty.

He has no sugar to console you, no regular sugar at least. It's already strange that he got the coffee. He never really welcomes real guests, only customers, now that he thinks about it; there are rare times when he really has to welcome someone outside of his "business", generally speaking.

You do not answer immediately, your gaze cannot help wandering over his figure, his body, his chest and his abdomen.

He smooths his baggy black sweater, as if to make you realize he's noticing your eyes, and then take a sip from his cup.

"Don't worry, it's okay ..." you assure "in the end ... I like to try new things ..."

Are you talking about sugar?

Your voice is a twitter that leaves him with vague hope. Are you trying to tell him something?

He's not really afraid of you going around talking, you told him you wouldn't and he knows you won't. You are not that different from Renji in this.

You turn the cup over in your fingers, looking at that dark liquid, and then turn to him again.

"Don't ... want to sit down?"

You ask him shyly, as if you feared rejection, but you asked him anyway.

You amaze him, of course. That is a little melancholy surprise, your calling him close, your giving him a little illusion of closeness.

But do you really want him there?

With a nod he slowly approaches, as if he is approaching a wounded animal - or prey - and he slowly sits in front of you.

The cups of coffee that nobody wants look at each other, placed in front, close together, like when you happen to meet at the end of the day in the cafe. It was a good time for Uta, he enjoyed pretending that there were no Ghouls and Humans, silenced his hunger so attracted to you and focused on the pleasure of your presence as if you were no different.

But now the charade is over, you two are not alike, and for some reason it hurts him.

Your gaze rests docile on his face, and he smiles lightly.

He is beautiful, you really think so. In a way, those red and black eyes are the only ones that fit him. Uta is not of an objective beauty, he must like him, and you really like him.

"You know..." your murmur puts him on alert "I ... I hear the news but ... it's hard to think that it could happen to you, when you hear about ghouls ..."

"It didn't happen to you."

His calm voice stops you immediately, and despite his flat tone makes you feel accused. He didn't hurt you, you can't say he's your turn. If anything, he is the turn of your tormentor.

"I ... no ... I meant that I had never thought of meeting one ..."

You justify shy, and he realizes he scared you. You're probably thinking that the first misstep you take will automatically become his next meal.

His lips press in a thin line, while he looks at you calmly.

"We are not that rare, you know ..."

He informs you, understanding that you would never speak if he remained silent.

There were ghouls even more integrated into human society than he. You were kind of his exception to him, his regular break from his violent life, even though he still had other human connections.

"Do you want to eat me?"

The question comes out suddenly, interrupting any flow of thought. It is less insecure than you thought, but deep down you both know that that's the core of it all.

He looks you straight in the eye, without giving in to the gaze and somehow gluing your pupils into his.

He could tell you that if he had wanted he would have done it already, he could say many things, yet he doesn't want to lie, he owes you and you owe it to him.

"It would be nice."

His voice is kind of calming despite the harshness of those words. As scary as they are, you don't react, and let him talk again.

"But it would also be extremely sad for me."

His tattooed fingers twirl around the slowly cooling cup, and you wonder if his heart has started beating a little faster, like yours, despite his mute expression.

"As tempting as eating you may be ... it would be very sad not to see you again."

A spark suddenly lights up in your eyes, it's so beautiful and bright that Uta opens his lips slightly in amazement, seeing that little light in you, so unexpectedly. He can't say if it is the hope of being able to live still that ignited it or that unspoken admission of affection, but that's okay with him.

"Would you be sad, Uta?"

You ask with a voice covered with expectations. He does not know how it happened, but it seems that your focus has shifted to something else, so suddenly.

Your cheeks just blush, and you smile as you look down at your hands. That smile isn't for him, it's for you. Uta wasn't hoping to see you smile again, yet there you were, wrapped in his baggy clothes smiling genuinely, as if you had suddenly forgotten the fear.

Your fingers intertwine in front of the cup, and your face doesn't dare lift up on him, but this time it's not fear that stops you.

“A Ghoul… sure, I had to know. In fact, in the end I knew it. Being a human would have been too trivial for you. "

Take another sip of coffee, and this time you commit yourself to putting up with the bitterness, even if you don't quite succeed.

Uta allows himself a slight amused smile.

"Oh yes?"

His is a rhetorical question that you just nod.

He drinks too, plunging both of you into a less heavy silence, but which still lingers in Uta's mind doubts that he would like to silence.

"Now where will you go?"

He is used to those he cares about disappearing far away. It wouldn't be new to see you walk away from him, he's not really hoping to be able to hold you back, despite what you said. Life simply changes people, and with them the world, he is aware of it, as he is aware of the fact that after this night the world between you two has changed, and as always you will be the one to change with it, while he will remain there, immobile.

"Do you want ... I have to go home?"

You ask confused, glancing towards the door. Night out scares you, you prefer the wolf's lair more than the dark and unpredictable shadows of the dark hours.

You didn't understand what he meant, how could you? Yet somehow Uta expected you to do it, he expected you to tell him this was goodbye. Yeah, is this goodbye?

"No, you don't have to go home if you don't want to ..."

It's hard to ask you to stay, to really stay. It is difficult to ask you to stay with him, because if you refused it would be a defeat, if you felt forced you would no longer be you.

“So you can't eat the food? Normal food I say ... so the idea of inviting you to lunch is out of the question. "

Your words break the melancholy in his mind again. He looks at you, his head slightly bent towards his right shoulder:

"Did you want to invite me to lunch?"

You wonder if it's really that surprising that you had such an idea. Should you be ashamed of it? Maybe this is inappropriate for him?

"I wanted. I mean, I've thought about it. It seemed nice to me. "

It seemed nice to you. You were cute, Uta often thought that. Here it is again, your gentle affection; it would have been a problem to refuse you if you really asked him to share lunch. He had never gotten used to pretending to eat human food, even though he tolerated smells quite well by now.

“Anyway, that's a kind thought of you. Thank you."

Without the glasses, his expression is even more gentle. It seems paradoxical, compared to the figure of him, but still, Uta is so unique.

"Not very kind if it kills you."

You mutter to yourself, looking away in embarrassment. In fact, now that you really know he's a ghoul a lot of your talk may no longer make sense.

"No ..." you hear him chuckle slightly, lightly and yet amused "we don't die so easily unfortunately for you ... I'd end up feeling extremely bad."

Suddenly the argument between you lightens up without either of you really noticing. He feels it, almost palpable, the boulder in his chest becoming light at the sound of curiosity that colors your voice as you confirm that you understand: it is the same curiosity as when you ask him questions about his masks, the colors he uses or his tattoos, he clearly recognizes it, which has now almost become part of both of you.

"I have so much to ask you, Uta" you admit, smiling at him fondly "but for now, thank you for everything you've done."

His nonexistent brows go up, looking at you as if he's asking if you were serious. But you did, sure, he knew.

"Thanks to you for bringing me dinner downstairs."

Uta doesn't mince words, he never did, and it was something you loved. He was always contemptuous and edgy in his calm and delicacy of him, it was a humor all of him, no one could ever look like Uta.

He makes you laugh, despite the macabre implied, and he's happy. He feels lighter, freer, and this seems to apply to you too.

One of his laboriously painted hands moves towards your face. He doesn't even notice, it's a gesture dictated by instinct, from his heart. Only when he's about to touch your cheek does he freeze, dumbfounded as to what to do, wondering in his head what the hell he was doing, why he did it.

He fears to see you retract at his touch, fears to see you hide and still does not understand why he fears so much the rejection of a human, a human who should be food and who instead twists his stomach with just a look.

He tries to retreat first, before it's late, but your hands stop him.

His fingers are now squeezed between yours, tenderly, as you tenderly bring them to your face. The hand that presses on his back is warmer than his skin, but the one that squeezes his palm has frozen fingertips, he feels them pinch against his skin. In yet another gesture of care for you, his fingers close on yours, to warm them.

And while you hold him he holds you, you hold both of you, and he knows you don't know him, that you haven't seen the dark side of him yet nor does he know if he will ever have the courage to show it to you, but for now that's okay .

Now he's no longer alone in his charade with you. You are no longer his audience, you are the actor who responds to his sentences in front of that cruel world. But luckily now, behind the scenes, his mask is no longer needed.

"I promise I'll take you for a better coffee tomorrow."

"I accept with great pleasure."

[mah-gah-lee]

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011​, hope you’ll like it ! 

Summary:  you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her).  All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ 

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

 "Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

 But you didn't answer.

 You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

 "oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

 “I think we stuck…”

  "Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

 The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

 "Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

 “Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

 “I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

 “I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

 Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

 After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

 "How the hell can you stay so calm"

 "Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

 You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

 "Panic attack?"

 You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

 "I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

 Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

 "Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

 you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

 "1..2..3"

 You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

 "We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

 You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

 “You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

 “I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

 “hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

 Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

 “Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

 “In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

 You laughed he was funny

 “No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

 he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

 “Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

 You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

 "Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

 He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

 "It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

 "Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

 Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

 “So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

 "It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

 "Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

 "Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

 And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

 "Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

 You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

 You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

 "Owen"

 "hmm?"

 "How would you like to play a game?"

 "What kind of game do you want to play here?"

 "Who am I?"

 "Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

 You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

 "I start: am I a man?"

 "Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

 Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

 “But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

 You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

 “well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

 you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

 "wait, y/n!"

 You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

 "I think you let that go"

 "No, I don't"

 You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

 "I think you did."

 He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

 "It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

 Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

 "it depends"

 "about what?"

 "Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

 Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

 "I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

 "So expect a text from me"

 You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

 (y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

 Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

 Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

[dabi-drift]

Yaoyorozu, Hawks, Bakugou, Amajiki, Dabi, Mirko & Geten with a Genderfluid S/O:

If you want any characters adding here or to anything else I write, just drop me a comment or an ask!

Momo Yaoyorozu:

☿ It was hard enough for you to acknowledge your own gender- fully understanding it was a different topic - so coming out to Momo was going to be tough.

☿ Really tough.

☿ She was a lovely girl and a wonderful girlfriend.

☿ But could you really expect her to be supportive of something so complex?

☿ Your gender fluctuated a lot - sometimes you'd feel distinctly outside the binary, and sometimes you'd feel more masculine, or more feminine.

☿ You hadn't noticed this until recently; you rarely gave gender a second thought.

☿ Looking at yourself in the mirror and questioning everything that felt a little off, you'd figured that maybe you just wanted to feel special, a little different.

☿ So you researched. A lot.

☿ You had a system that no-one understood because you were still deep in the closet: a different coloured strand/extension in your hair (on one side only) that stood out but was never questioned.

☿ Red = Feminine, Purple = Non-Binary, Blue = Masculine, Green = Third Gender/Multigender.

☿ Coming out was a decision you spent countless nights debating.

☿ No-one 'deserved' to know, it was really nobody's business…but being gendered correctly 100% of the time did sound nice.

☿ Deep breaths, and positive thoughts.

☿ "I identify as…no, I am genderfluid. You, eh…you should probably know that."

☿ This sweet, precious thing was confused at first.

☿ But you explained it:

☿ "Sometimes I'll feel more masculine, more like a boy, sometimes feminine, neither or both/all genders? I'm still wrapping my head around it too, but eh…it can change a lot. Sometimes a few times a day. Um…sometimes one gender will stick for a while. That's why figuring it out can be…confusing. But it's also enlightening, uh…kinda nice, warm, y'know?"

☿ Instantly says she understands and supports you.

☿ Expect a flurry of hugs and kisses.

☿ Acts like a very proud girlfriend.

☿ Pays extra attention to your hair - never wants to get anything wrong.

☿ If she does, she'll apologise immediately and reprimand herself.

☿ Go easy on her, she'll be an utter mess.

☿ Overall, her love for you is unconditional, and she makes sure that you know she's sorry.

"You shouldn't ever have to be scared to explain who you are."

Keigo Takami/Hawks:

☿ Keigo knew something was amiss.

☿ You'd been dating for two years, and although he never pried, he couldn’t help noticing the way you'd suddenly become uncomfortable when someone addressed you, or when you stayed in one set of clothes for too long.

☿ It wasn’t always the same, and he just figured it was anxiety and general insecurities coming to the surface.

☿ So he held you closer, wrapped you in his wings and fussed over you for hours (or however long his job would allow).

☿ He didn’t have a lot of time to consult the internet.

☿ He also didn’t want to pressure you into revealing anything.

☿ But now, the topic was unavoidable.

☿ You'd broken down, crying and mumbling to yourself when you thought he couldn’t hear you.

☿ He finds you kneeling in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom.

☿ Rushes to your side in an instant.

☿ "What did the mirror do to you, dove?"

☿ Very, very worried, feathers shaking around you.

☿ Defensive birb, ready to protect you from that loathsome mirror.

☿ "I-I look so…so girly today! It's awful! My chest, and…and…I don’t have a binder, and I…"

☿ Doesn't understand, but is determined not to worsen your mood.

☿ "Hey, look at me. What are binders, and where would we get one?"

☿ He places both hands on your cheeks, and you lean into him.

☿ "They're…they flatten your chest, um…sports bras and binders…I-I've never bought one, so I don’t know…"

☿ He nods. "Do you wanna come with me to look for one?"

☿ You're perplexed - shouldn’t he be weirded out by this?

☿ He laughs, and somehow, it warms your heart. "I just want you to be happy. I'd do anything to make that happen, angel. You might need to explain all this to me, though. I'm a newbie, after all."

☿ He takes physical notes - nothing will catch this man out.

☿ If someone misgenders you, he'll correct them immediately.

☿ If someone acts ignorant or spiteful, he'll 'politely' tell them how to adjust their attitude, and how to address people outside the gender binary.

☿ I.e, respect them even if you don't have a complete grasp on their identity, and never, ever misgender or marginalise them.

"You are yourself, not how others perceive you."

Katsuki Bakugou:

☿ You decided to use pronoun badges. There were some awesome-looking designs out there, and you'd been feeling a little more confident lately. It couldn’t hurt to clue your classmates in, right? Plus, you supposed Katsuki ought to know…he was your boyfriend, after all. He'd definitely be pissed if he discovered this a few years down the line, rage about you not placing enough trust in him, and it'd be a huge mess…

☿ You'd never interrogated him on LGBTQ+ issues, so you weren't sure how he'd take your news; he wasn’t always the most accepting (Midoriya & the quirkless community being obvious testaments to that).

☿ Needless to say, instead of being confused, he was frustrated. Why was he with someone who didn’t even know their correct pronouns? He pointed it out, very matter-of-fact.

☿ When your dazzling smile suddenly dropped, he became concerned. Was he the idiot after all? Why did he upset you? What in the Nine Circles of Hell possessed him to do that?? He didn’t even say anything bad! All he mentioned was…

☿ Oh. Shit.

☿ This boy isn't accustomed to apologising, so don’t expect it to flow naturally. He’ll try, because he loves you, but he won't keep eye contact for very long and he'll recant every few seconds.

☿ This perceived insincerity only masks his guilt, though. He’ll beat himself up for years, unless you stop him. This boy has no chill. He's always the first to go off on people when they disrespect or degrade you, so he's gotta make amends in some way, right?

☿️ Honestly, if there are any pronoun badges with really cool or pretty designs, he'll buy them for you. He'll also get for himself, to prove his acceptance and solidarity. He won't ever allow you to feel alone again. He's more than okay with your identity - it changes absolutely nothing about you. If anything, it gives you a sense of completion. He's here for that, 100%.

☿️ You better believe he'll fight for your rights.

☿️ If there's any hate/intolerance directed at you, he'll explode. Quite literally.

☿️ You'll be tasked with ensuring no-one dies. Unless you want them to, of course.

☿️ They'll deserve it.

☿️ Katsuki is very perceptive, so when he gets to grips with it, he'll most likely notice every indication (however subtle) of a gender change. He'll carry spare pronoun badges around, just in case you lose yours.

☿️ Secretly, he's swimming in pride.

☿️ He's kinda like 'Yeah, that's my awesome partner! Look how cool they are, flaunting their pronouns like that, all confident and happy!'

☿️ This boy adores the ever-loving shit out of you. He hates reflecting on the day you came out, because he handled it so poorly at first. Thankfully now though, you're more secure.

"Gender doesn't matter. I'm gonna be a hero, not a hater."

Tamaki Amajiki:

☿️ (Y/n) wasn’t a dead name, but sometimes the very mention of it made your skin crawl.

☿️ It was a gift from your parents, so you wanted to keep it.

☿️ But it was a very gendered name - you couldn’t escape that.

☿️ So you decided on a few more - ones both your mind and heart adored.

☿️ The names corresponded to different gender identities, and although you weren't out just yet (though you planned to be shortly), they gave you the fluffiest feeling.

☿️ Because you hadn't come out, you didn’t bother making it easy for people - no different coloured bracelets, rings or anything to highlight your gender at the time.

☿️ In your heart, you knew who you were.

☿️ Still…everything seemed tied to the binary - official documents, school, the chatter of other students…you'd seen and heard it all.

☿️ These people didn’t accept non-conformists.

☿️ So why should Tamaki?

☿️ Sure, he was kind-hearted, heroic…amazing, but what would he do? What would he say, when you finally came out? You couldn’t remain in the closet forever.

☿️ No way that was happening! You were human too, your feelings mattered! Surely you were allowed to voice your truth…

☿️ Tamaki loved you.

☿️ He'd be accepting…right? Memorising some more names and pronouns shouldn’t be so tricky.

☿️ To minimise discomfort for both of you, you chose to explain things in his room.

☿️ He got really nervous at first - he thought you wanted to break up.

☿️ Boy was sweating profusely, coming up with all sorts of counter-arguments in his head. He really, really loved you.

☿️ "(Y-Y/n)-"

☿️ "Um, could you maybe call me (O/n) today? It's an…off-spectrum day."

☿️ Cue more confusion than Momo.

☿️ He'll ask about it in a really gentle voice - being anxious himself, he can easily pick up on other people's signs.

☿️ "Basically…my gender's fluid, so…you know how 'sex' is biological and 'gender' is a sense of identity? Well, sometimes I align with my birth sex, sometimes I don't. Today is…one of those days."

☿️ He'll hold your hand while he listens, squeezing it periodically to reassure you.

☿️ Now it's your turn to question the strength of your relationship.

☿️ This boy's love is deep, though; he cares way too much to let anything come between you.

☿️ Plus, nothing about you has actually changed.

☿️ You've just come into yourself, gained more comfort in who you are.

☿️ Tells you how proud he is.

☿️ Asks you to let him know when you sense your gender change, so he never calls you by the wrong name or pronouns.

☿️ It's They/Them today, but who knows about tomorrow? Or even an hour from now?

☿️ Finds gender-neutral compliments and nicknames, and does a ton of research.

☿️ Has an entire script in his head - if you want to come out but can't speak for yourself, Tamaki will push aside his anxiety and recite the words he's practiced a million times.

"You've finally found yourself - only change if it feels right."

Touya Todoroki/Dabi:

☿️ Your identity was really important and dear to your heart.

☿️ But that didn’t stop those you cared for tearing you apart whenever you tried to speak up.

☿️ Your family, your friends…you loved them, but they just couldn’t accept you.

☿️ So you killed them.

☿️ You went on the run, evading police and heroes alike for years.

☿️ And then, you found the League of Villains - a strange dynamic, kind of like family but much more welcoming.

☿️ Yet, your identity stayed hidden. You didn’t have the strength to harm all these people, if they rejected you.

☿️ Besides, there was more solidarity here than there ever had been with your blood relatives.

☿️ Dabi was your companion, though whether that meant closest friend or love interest, you didn’t know.

☿️ He was observant, transforming his thoughts into words regardless of how that affected people.

☿️ He pointed things out immediately.

☿️ "New bracelet?"

☿️ You paused, half-shocked, half-afraid.

☿️ You knew that he'd see through any lie you posed.

☿️ The truth would be the only thing to save you from his flames.

☿️ "That means something, doesn't it, (Y/n)?"

☿️ Step 1: put the drink down so you don't shatter it in anger.

☿️ "Yeah, um…this colour means 'masculine'. I'm a guy…now."

☿️ His face betrayed nothing.

☿️ "Like a reverse Magne?"

☿️ You wondered if that was a genuine question or an attempt at humour.

☿️ Todorokis don't understand jokes.

☿️ "No…she's a transgender woman, I'm genderfluid. I'm not confined to a single gender. It, uh…it changes."

☿️ His nod didn’t instil you with confidence.

☿️ "You out to the others yet?"

☿️ "Didn't think they'd accept me."

☿️ He made a 'Really? You're the least weird of the bunch' face.

☿️ "Ah, I'll just burn 'em if they don't."

☿️ You were too stunned to employ a comeback.

☿️ He contemplated for a while.

☿️ "So, you got any other names?"

☿️ Helps you plan how to come out to the rest of the League.

☿️ Will legitimately burn the haters.

"Found families are more accepting than the real thing."

Rumi Usagiyama/Mirko:

☿️ You bought three mugs - 'It's a Girl', 'It's a Boy' and 'It's a Mess'.

☿️ The excitement had been bubbling away inside you for weeks.

☿️ Rumi still didn’t know that you were genderfluid, but she was about to learn.

☿️ There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she'd accept you.

☿️ You hadn't told her yet because it was a big thing - lots to take in, and you needed to be completely sure of it, and of your relationship.

☿️ You weren't gonna tell just anyone.

☿️ Dating Rumi was awesome, and this was just the next stage.

☿️ It didn’t go according to plan.

☿️ Not at first.

☿️ "You're pregnant?!" Was her very concerned response.

☿️ She kept muttering about how she needed some space to think things over.

☿️ Until you dragged her back, exasperated but determined to explain yourself.

☿️ "It's in reference to myself. I wanted to let you know, in a funny way, that I'm genderfluid. There's a Girl and a Boy one, and the other is for Non-Binary."

☿️ She made a noise like she understood, but you saw the confusion.

☿️ "Today's an Enby day, but you might have a girlfriend tomorrow. Or a boyfriend. Who knows?"

☿️ In an instant, the biggest smile took control of her face, and she brought you into a crushing hug.

☿️ "So I could have a girlfriend, a boyfriend and a murder partner??"

☿️ "Eh…if you can do the jail-time, count me in."

☿️ This one won't necessarily search for information herself, but she will consult you whenever she's having a difficult time processing something.

☿️ You're like,, the expert in all things LGBTQ+, and she loves listening to you talk so passionately.

☿️ She's really glad you told her - that you trusted her with something so important.

☿️ She feels loved, and makes sure you do too.

☿️ Asks if you ever thought she'd reject you.

☿️ "Nah. We'll go strong forever, Rumi."

☿️ She's overjoyed, honestly.

"You're so brave for coming out, and if someone doesn’t like it, I'll kick their butt."

Geten/Iceman:

☿️ Geten didn’t have the faintest clue about gender identities. He accepted male and female, but without a proper education or motivation to learn anything beside his quirk, you didn’t expect him to understand. You would've held it in, if you were strong enough to deal with the constant misgendering.

☿️ If you use Neopronouns, you're especially worried. They aren't as widely welcomed as the general She/He/They. And Geten being the angry, feral gremlin he is, his temper was a major concern.

☿️ You couldn’t change for him, so if he decided to lash out or disapprove, you'd be crushed. You'd obviously have to walk out of the relationship, if he didn’t do so himself. As deeply as your love ran, you simply couldn’t put yourself through such anguish. You weren't of the soundest mind, so to be rejected by Geten…

☿️ He isn't gonna understand unless you sit him down, crack open the slideshow presentation and maybe start crying? He'll feel guilty, but he doesn't ever wanna see you in distress. He said as much, in the beginning of your relationship.

☿️ So cry. Cry your little heart out, and he'll do everything within his power to comfort you. He's not the most receptive to other people's emotions, but with you, it's different. He's always by your side, always watching over you. His hugs are a little stiff, but wrap your arms around him tightly, and he'll protect you with his life.

☿️ "So…genderfluid?"

☿️ His tone is gentle, like he's afraid to cause any more tears.

☿️ "Yeah, um…you identify with your birth sex, right? Well, I don't…not all the time. And if you could…could use those pronouns? That would mean…a lot. To me. It'd mean everything, actually…"

☿️ He's quiet for a while, still trying to make space in his brain for all this new information. It isn't something he needs to 'come around to', though. He'll be completely painful and respectful. He's bound to slip up a few times, but he'll always correct himself.

☿️ Hates seeing you cringe whenever he makes a mistake. Always vows never to let it happen again.

☿️ You're okay though - you know it's gonna take time.

☿️ Angry boi never uses your gender identity as an insult, and openly condemns (threatens) anyone who does. He'll want to prove himself - prove he's gonna love you regardless of gender, regardless of everything!

☿️ Honestly doesn't know why you were so nervous to explain this. When he said his love was unconditional, he wasn’t lying.

“There’s no way I couldn’t accept who you are.”

[irrlicht-writes]

of Rex Lapis and the water's embrace

The rock persisted for centuries. Unaffected by the wind and the weather, it was to remain forever. And yet, recently, the tide had been rising and the water hit against the stone. Stubbornly, the stone would endure the fluid form and persist still. But in the battle of adaptability and endurance, adaptability would always win; and the water tore the rock down. The stone would crumble; and the pillar would be no more. The rocks fell deep, deeper than they ever had before and the water caught them gently in their embrace. | "Tell me a story."

Ao3

Please read part 1 here

*

The tea was too hot to drink.

Childe had seemed distressed when they had talked on the pier, and Zhongli was unsure of how he should proceed. He was aware that after he gave away the gnosis to the eighth harbinger, Childe had been upset. He only wasn’t sure why exactly. Zhongli had simply fulfilled his contract. Childe had no reason to be mad.

Regardless, Zhongli had decided to let him calm down a while before he would attempt a conversation again. Childe had a wild temper at the best of times and it was generally unwise to anger him unnecessarily. The boy would go into the wilds of Liyue and kill things to his heart’s content and then they could have a civilised discussion again.

Although, Zhongli had to admit he missed his dates with the harbinger.

It was hard these days to find someone who’d be willing to listen to him ramble in full.

He checked his tea again. It was still too hot.

As he sat waiting, he pulled the Old Stone out again. He missed Azhdaha. Seeing him again had simply reminded him of how much he was missing his old friend – but on the other hand, it had been wonderful to be able to talk to him again, to maybe even ease his pain.

He wondered if Childe would be interested to hear stories about Azhdaha.

They were so alike, in heart. Big and powerful – and yet they possessed a gentle heart inside of them.

Zhongli smiled at his stone.

He hoped that Childe enjoyed his gift. The sword that never made it into the hands it had been destined for – mayhap this had been fate. Maybe Guizhong had never been meant to hold this sword and perhaps Zhongli had been a fool for keeping it all these years. Childe would put it to good use, he was sure of it.

The boy was one of the most formidable warriors he had met in recent years. He hadn’t been what Zhongli had expected in the slightest.

I shall send you my eleventh, my dearest Tartaglia. The vanguard of my forces shall serve your contract well, Rex Lapis.

The vanguard of the Tsaritsa... Zhongli had expected an old man, rich in battles and weary of heart, much like Zhongli himself.

And instead, he had received a bright-eyed, young boy with a blinding smile.

A joke, he had believed.

~*~

“Hi! My name’s Tartaglia, but you can call me Childe! You’re Zhongli, right?”

There was a young boy standing in the Funeral Parlour. His eyes were a dull blue, and his unkempt hair was orange. He grinned brightly and extended his hand in a greeting.

“Her Majesty said I’d find you here. Are you hungry? Let’s go get some food!”

There was no waste in this young boy. He reached forward and grabbed the stunned Zhongli, pulling him outside into the sun.

“Haha, it’s so hot here in Liyue! It’s going to be hard to get used to that... maybe they have thinner uniforms here. Ah, I shall just get used to it, I guess.”

Hold on.

This was Tartaglia? This young boy was supposed to be the vanguard of the Tsaritsa? No. This must be a joke.

Perhaps... perhaps this boy was the assistant of the harbinger, yes? If the real Tartaglia might not wish to deal with the outside world due to weariness or simply because he wished to remain hidden, then Zhongli could understand.

Yes. Yes, this sounded very plausible. He must have hired this boy to be his public face, to allow him to work in the background undeterred.

He did not like being deceived but he would insist on meeting the real harbinger soon. In the meantime, he shall entertain this young boy.

“How can I serve you?”

Zhongli hadn’t even noticed that they sat down at Wanmin Restaurant.

“Hi! I’m fresh off the boat and I would like some nice Liyuean food. I’m not picky; just give me what’s good! What about you, Zhongli? I didn’t stun you into silence, did I?”

Zhongli blinked. “Ah... no, you did not, I apologise for my lack of manners. Miss Xiangling, I would like a bamboo shot soup and my ah, associate would take the Crystal Shrimp.”

The boy grinned at him.

“Well, I’ll trust you, then!”

Xiangling smiled and wandered off. Now, Zhongli wasn’t sure what to say. This boy truly had come in like a hurricane.

“Sorry for dragging you away like that, but I’ve only just arrived and the bank already wants to drown me in paperwork. I know we were supposed to meet tomorrow, but I just had to get away, you know?”

“The bank? You mean the Northland Bank?”

“Yeah! I’m supposed to supervise it a bit while I’m here. Apparently, the debt collectors have gotten a bit too soft around these parts, so I’m meant to rough them up again. I wasn’t told about the paperwork though, so that’s a bummer.”

A harbinger would not talk like this, correct? This boy couldn’t have seen more than twenty summers.

“You have knowledge about collecting debts?”

“Yeah, I guess. Before I became a harbinger, I’ve been a debt collector for a while. Not very long though, because I kept killing the clients. And, y’know, dead guys don’t pay their debts after all. But I’m a harbinger now, so who cares!”

Tartaglia laughed and Zhongli blinked.

This boy could not be the Tsaritsa’s vanguard in a hundred years.

“Wha – what are those?!”

The boy’s hand was cramping around the chopsticks.

“Those are chopsticks. You use them to eat your foot... no, don’t stab the shrimp.”

“Well, then how... how do you use them?! This is impossible!”

Zhongli chuckled. “They are an important part of Liyuean cuisine, Childe. Please learn how to use them.”

“How do you guys not starve to death?! What’s wrong with forks?!”

~*~

“Yaahoo, your tea is cold, old man.”

Hu Tao’s voice tore Zhongli out of his thoughts. He looked at the Funeral Parlour Director for a second before he confirmed her words. Indeed, his tea has gotten cold. He sighed.

“What’s got your panties in a twist to make you sigh like that?”

Zhongli frowned. “I do not –“, but then he decided to just not indulge her.

“Are there any clients?”

Hu Tao pouted.

“No, there are no customers. It’s so boring. Nobody dies anymore these days. Hey, where’s your Fatui boyfriend? He always brought in good business.”

“I have not seen Childe in a few days. Last I saw him he did not seem to be in the mood for providing business, Director.”

In fact, Childe had seemed very depressed, so unlike the boy he had gotten to know.

Hu Tao started to whine. “Boooring. Go to him and make him kill some people, I’m so booreed.”

Zhongli closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In, and out. In, and out. Just this easy. This child was going to drive him insane. Childe was not a dead-body-factory.

Although, admittedly, he had provided a lot of bodies for Hu Tao during his stay here.

The two of them even got along. Hu Tao had convinced Childe to partake in several pranks and in almost all of them, Zhongli had been the butt-end of the joke.

“If there is nothing to do, I shall take a walk.”

“Go drag your boyfriend’s ass back here! And bring some dead people! I need a booming business!”

Zhongli decided to ignore her as he pocketed the Old Stone and left the Parlour.

Maybe he should check on Childe. At least, he could inquire whether or not the boy liked his new weapon.

The guard at the door barely recognised Zhongli, as he was busy writing a letter.

As usual, the bank was relatively quiet. The local manager, Andrei, and Mister Qi were talking to each other, presumably about the latter taking on a loan. They did not interest him however. Zhongli headed straight to the bank’s teller, Ekaterina. She’s always been his go-to whenever he had been looking for Childe.

“Good day, Miss Ekaterina. I was wondering –“

“Master Childe is not with you?”

Zhongli frowned. “I – no, he is not. Is something wrong?”

Despite the mask, Zhongli could tell how worried she was.

“Master Childe has left early the last evening and when he did not return, I thought he might be with you – please tell me I haven’t lost a Harbinger. Oh, I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to me. Tell me he’s fine. I don’t care if it’s a lie, just tell me he’s making a bad joke and is harassing Vlad outside the door.”

Childe was missing?

“Are you sure he is not just out for a few days?”

She shook her head. “No, he always tells me for how long he’ll be gone, and we have a matter for him to attend to tomorrow morning. In fact, I only know he has left is because I saw him leave. I checked his office for any sort of note but there was nothing which leads me to believe he intended to be back by now. Oh Seven, what if something’s happened to him? The Tsaritsa will lynch me.”

Childe was strong. Nothing could’ve happened to him, right?

“I will find him.”

Without waiting for an answer, he left the bank.

~*~

The young fake harbinger was a friendly sort. Despite Zhongli’s irritation of not meeting the real harbinger, he could not complain about the company of the fake Tartaglia.

“Xiansheng, do you really need to buy these rocks...?”

“They are of a quality made, Childe, you shouldn’t let an opportunity like this pass you by.”

The boy behind him groaned but paid the merchant. Zhongli took the pair of Jade and pocketed them. Some would wonder where he’d put all of these wonders, and he would never tell.

“Shall we eat, then?”

The boy looked up and blinked at the sun.

“Yeah but we gotta hurry. I have a training session right after lunch and it’s hard enough to keep these rat-tags together at the best of circumstances.”

The harbinger Tartaglia, the boy meant. Often, Zhongli had been tempted to sneak after the boy, trying to catch a glimpse of his real contact. But he, perhaps most of all, knew how difficult it could be to maintain their secret identity.

“Is it hard to train new recruits?”

Childe shrugged. “No, not really. It’s more about what they expect, you know? I’m not the boot camp. I’m not evaluating them, they’re already in. They just have no idea how to properly hold their weapon the right way around. I swear, I have held so many rifles in my life that you’d think I’d be replacing my bow. And you know the worst? The Hydro Gunners keep coming to me like I know what they’re doing. Just shoot your bubbles, man! I’ve never had a tank like that before.”

“You hold a hydro vision, though.”

“Yeah, but do I look like a healer to you? I heal my enemies from their pain by ending their misery. But somehow they expect me to know how theirstuff works. Just hit stuff until it works, it’s not that difficult.”

They arrived at Wanmin Restaurant and Chef Mao came to their table. Apparently, Xiangling was out today, gathering ingredients.

“We’ll take the Chicken Tofu Pudding and the Cured Pork Dry Hotpot, please.”

Childe smiled at him. “We should take a walk sometime.”

“Childe, we take walks all the time.”

“Yeah, I know, but I meant outside! Outside the Harbour. I haven’t really been, you know? There’s so much for me to do in the city that I haven’t really gotten a chance to see the landscape. And I figured, since you know everything about Liyue, you’d be a perfect tour guide!”

That was true. Childe had been for about two weeks and he had seldom left the Bank without Zhongli’s company. A young boy like Childe would grow restless in a city like this, especially considering how he’d grown up in a small village surrounded by trees. So he nodded.

“If your training session does not take too long, we may take stroll tonight.”

The training session did indeed not take long and Zhongli presumed that Childe had simply left early since the real harbinger was going to lead the training anyway.

Brash as ever, Childe stormed the Parlour and leaned over the counter, staring expectedly at Zhongli. He was not deterred though and kept going through his papers.

“Yaahoo, who are you?!”

Oh no. He forgot about Director Hu. He would –

“Hi, I’m Childe! Are you the leader here?”

“Before you stands mighty Hu Tao, 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour! Are you the guy who keeps stealing my consultant?”

Childe laughed. “Indeed I am! In fact, I’m here to steal him away again.”

“Hmmm, you have the deadest eyes I’ve ever seen. You’ll be a customer soon, yeah? If you sign up now, I can give you a coupon.”

Childe waved his hand. “Thanks, but I’m not going to die here. If I do, it’ll be in the cold embrace of my home. But I’ll take coupons!”

Hu Tao grinned and shoved them into Childe’s hands. “Effective only if used within three weeks!”

“Well, I’ll be sure to drop some bodies, then.”

Zhongli stood up quickly before this could escalate any further.

“Childe, let us leave lest it gets too late.”

“Oh, right! Bye, Hu Tao! It was nice meeting you!”

Zhongli practically dragged him out of the Parlour before Hu Tao could respond.

“I had no idea the Director was that young!”

“She has taken over at a very young age, indeed. At some times, I think she does not respect the dead enough, but she is surprisingly loyal to the traditions.”

As Zhongli was dragging him away, Childe looked over his shoulder, seemingly deep in thoughts.

“Anyway, where are we going?”

“It’s a place called Yaoguang Shoal. You will like it.”

“Looks peaceful,” Childe commented and Zhongli nodded.

“There is little here for the Treasure Hoarders to find here. This place is not known for its hidden treasures.”

Childe crossed his arms and looked over to the shore.

“My siblings would love to run across here, I bet.”

“Oh?”

Childe grinned. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard to do that back home, you know? They could even run bare-foot here. You know what...”

The boy turned over and got rid of his shoes, wiggling his toes into the sand. He grabbed Zhongli’s hand and pulled them both down onto the ground.

“Let’s watch the sunset, yeah?”

Zhongli complied. There was, after all, no reason not to.

“What are these called?”

Childe had picked up a conch and held it up to Zhongli’s face.

“They are called Starconches. They say if you hold it to your hear, you can hear the longing call of the sea.”

The boy held the starconch up into the sky, looking at it. “I’ve never seen a seashell with a star on it.”

He proceeded to hold it next to his ear, looking at his toes that were still buried in the sand. He seemed to be listening intently. Then, he laughed.

“Oh, what a siren call indeed. It’s like a call from the very deepest depth, from within all the endless void and darkness at the bottom of the world. So enticing, but I’m not going to drown.” A moment of pause. Then: “No use in hiding back there!”

In a flash, Childe was standing upright, a spear made out of hydro in his hands. Zhongli had barely enough time to turn around to see the Treasure Hoarders before Childe ran over to them.

With each of his attacks, Childe’s weapon shifted fluidly between the spear and what seemed to be two daggers. The red scarf on his back was glimmering with pure hydro energy as Childe spun around himself to knock the Treasure Hoarders out.

The boy turned around, shouldering his spear and grinning at Zhongli. “Do you think that there are any Ruin Guards about?”

~*~

Childe was not on the Guili Plains. After hearing the harbinger had gone there just days prior, Zhongli believed he might’ve returned but there were no hydro traces of his friend.

Why are there no Glaze Lilies on Guili Plains?

Zhongli looked at the desolate plains. He still remembered a time in which the Lilies would bloom plenty. In his ears, he could still hear Guizhong’s song to them. He has never been able to sing it, no matter how hard he tried. But right now, she didn’t matter.

Zhongli turned around again to head to Yaoguang Shoal, hoping to find Childe there. Alas, he was disappointed.

Where else could the young harbinger be?

Maybe... the sword. He closed his eyes. He might be able to find the sword. He’s carried it for so long, there were still so many traces of himself left behind. But he couldn’t concentrate. There were too many thoughts in his head. What if the harbinger was dead? No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t die this easily.

Zhongli opened his eyes again and looked down. There was a starconch lying in the sand. He bent down to pick it up. A conch, carried up to the shore from the depths... Childe liked them. They were a lot like him, he had said. Zhongli had never been sure he understood. Geographically, Snezhnaya was not lower than Liyue. But there had always been something about Childe, something that hadn’t seemed quite right. His eyes, of course, but there had also been the general feeling of... of something beyond this world. Like the boy had been claimed by something else, but Zhongli had never been able to put his finger on it – not that it had ever mattered this far.

Why couldn’t this shell lead him to Childe?

Not wanting to crush it, he threw it back into the ocean. The water rippled for a moment, then the surface stilled once again.

The rock persisted for centuries. Unaffected by the wind and the weather, it was to remain forever. And yet, recently, the tide had been rising and the water hit against the stone. Stubbornly, the stone would endure the fluid form and persist still.

But in the battle of adaptability and endurance, adaptability would always win; and the water tore the rock down. The stone would crumble; and the pillar would be no more. The rocks fell deep, deeper than they ever had before and the water caught them gently in their embrace.

Embraced by the deepest depths, the stone would remain forever more, gently floating away, having overseen the world for long enough.

And if the rock would ever tire, the tide would gently carry the stone to the shore.

Zhongli turned, and left the shore behind. The water was gently lapping at the sand, washing the starconch back ashore. The star in the middle of it shimmered in a gentle blue.

*

Everything inside him called him to Nantianmen. He was not sure why, but he was not one to ignore a feeling like that when he had deliberately been looking for it. There were a lot of monsters and Treasure Hoarders in the area, so that might be why Childe had been heading there. It was worth a try.

The Old Stone in his pocket gave a slight hum, but Zhongli did not have the mind to listen to it.

Nantianmen was eerily quiet. Normally, one could hear the Hillichurls running around, but now there was just dead silence. Something had happened here and Zhongli had the uneasy feeling that Childe might be at the middle of it.

Ever the eye of the storm.

“Not a step closer!”

The voice rung out across the field. It was distorted but Zhongli recognised the voice. It was Childe. He started running.

There was a mass of Ruin Guards and Hunters in front of Azhdaha’s tree. And there was something else. Something twice the size of a human floating in the air, with a cape made out of stars. Zhongli did not recognise the body, but it was Childe’s voice. And judging by the pile of destroyed Ruin Guards, he had been here a while. There were still so many...

“Childe”, he shouted as he ran over.

The boy... turned his head.

“Xianshen –“

He didn’t get to finish as a Ruin Hunter had been charging up his drill to promptly launch forward to attack him with it. Due to Zhongli’s interference, Childe was not able to evade the attack and got thrown back at the tree behind him. Zhongli saw the boy glow and shrink in size before he fell down to the ground, not to move again. He barely saw the jade sword fall next to him.

No.

Childe always got up immediately after being struck down.

Zhongli could only stare for four painfully long seconds before he decided to take revenge. He didn’t know what brought the Ruin Guards here or how Childe was able to transform the way he did or why any of this was happening at all – all he knew was that he wouldn’t let a friend die in vain once again.

Morax was far from dead; and these enemies would know.

Gently carried by the waves, the rock saw more of the world than the pillar ever could have. The tide was careful to not jostle it too much and to carry it great distances before slowing down, allowing the stone to rest.

Countless fish and sea-creatures would come up to the rock but the sea gently carried it away. The rock was thankful and it appreciated the small whales coming with them.

“I am tired,” the rock would say to the waves. “I have overseen it all for too long. But how will they fare without my pillar?”

The water did not answer, but it changed course. It carried the rock back to the start, so that the stone could see: nothing had changed. The pillar was forever gone, and in time, it would be forgotten. Rock would forever endure, until it would ebb away with the tide.

“Take me away,” the stone requested, “show me your beginning. And when you end, I shall end with you. Until that day, let your tide carry me until I erode away.”

As the Ruin Hunters lay dead to his feet, Rex Lapis took a heavy breath. Without a second thought, he spun around and ran up to the boy that was still lying on the ground. He was breathing, right? But there was blood.

“Childe,” he whispered as he gathered his friend into his arms and brushed a strand of hair aside. This couldn’t be like Guizhong all over again, he wouldn’t be able to take it. The boy groaned and shifted a bit.

“Xiansheng...?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.”

The boy blinked and slowly his eyes focused on Rex Lapis.

“Oh wow... I didn’t know you had horns.”

Morax didn’t understand, but it also didn’t matter. “Please. Are you in pain? What do I do?”

Childe laughed a bit. “It’s... don’t worry, yeah? It’s nothing a little herbs and bandages can’t fix, right? I’m more exhausted than I am hurt.”

“You are bleeding.”

“Oh believe me, I know. It’s okay though. Still, I... I should probably bandage it, right? I don’t wanna pass out.”

Morax sprang into action. “Don’t worry, baobei, I will take care of it.”

Childe blinked at him hazily as he removed his jacket and started wrapping it around the boy’s torso.

“...that looks kinda ineffective.”

“This is all I have. I will take you to the Harbour immediately.”

Gently, Rex Lapis gathered the boy in his arms to begin the trek back to the Harbour. Childe’s grip on the sword handle was steady.

“They were attacking the tree,” he said after a few minutes of walking. Morax could tell he was about to fall asleep.

“You were protecting it?”

“No, I came here because I heard about the Ruin Guards. But then I saw them attacking the tree and I... I didn’t want to, but I had to. It’s where... it’s where you sealed Azhdaha, right?”

Rex Lapis just nodded.

“I thought I could take them all on, but they just kept coming. Your sword did good damage but I needed something bigger.”

“Which is why you... transformed.”

“Yes,” was all Childe replied.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Childe pressed his forehead against Morax’ neck.

“I wanna see the shore.”

“Childe, you’re hurt. Baobei, I need to take you to the Pharmacy.”

“Please.”

So Rex Lapis turned and walked to Yaoguang Shoal.

“Tell me a story,” the young boy asked.

“Please, baobei, let me take you to the Harbour,” Rex Lapis pleaded.

“You can. Just one story. Just tell me one story to fall asleep to. I won’t die. The tide’s not gone yet. I won’t go anywhere just yet, alright? Just one story, alright? Please.”

“Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a young boy. The boy would never walk beside the god, but the god would always follow. The god was as steady as stone, but the boy was like the tides, ever-changing, ever-evolving and forever coming back.

Rex Lapis would oversee his country for eternity, and always he would watch the waves, wondering just when they would erode him. Perhaps, the god thought, perhaps erosion would not be the worst if it meant flowing like the tides.

After all, the boy would gift him a starconch, telling stories of a far-too-distant shore.”

In his arms, Childe had fallen asleep. The water was gently lapping at their feet and a starconch was washed ashore. Rex Lapis picked it up and put it gently into Childe’s arms. Carefully, he picked the young boy up and made the long walk back to Liyue Harbour.

Behind him, there was a singular rock carried by the waves.

As Zhongli and Childe disappeared from view, so did the rock vanish as if it had never been there.

[lilly-onthevalley]

I really do have a tendency to change myself depending on the situations I'm in and who I'm with. I feel like that's why I want to do things like going back to my oud and rose and my gardening.

Maybe it's the innovation of stuff like tik tok or that I've built a very active lifestyle in the past few years and I'm having an odd time adjusting. I've become too receptive to external forces. I'm not sure how to feel about all of this. Naturally I'm very apathetic, quiet and sarcastic, I'm feeling a bit exhausted keeping up the bubbly, charming, jumpy vibe even though I do have that part of me.

I think it's a balance thing. I've been maybe 5% my old self and 95% the sparkly part of myself and that's obviously not right.

Anyways, it's all gonna be right soon. I just need to go back a bit and read some nice books, pray quite a bit, my oud is coming soon, get my hair done and block some men 🤸🏽‍♀️

The old Lily was really bold, funny, sharp and competitive but still a bit (A LOT) demure and bubbly. I think that was the perfect balance of both the sides I have. My boldness wasn't really outward but it was through things like the scent I used to use, the slick dyed black hair and the English which was so advanced to the point I was hard to understand. I've toned all those bits down while assimilating myself into my new environment. I was weary of my environment and I couldn't really burst out in a foreign land. You know what they say "birds of the same feather flock together". I couldn't afford to be different and myself at that time when I was trying to get myself into a certain area.

Especially with this COVID shit, that was a horrible thing for me. My introversion grew to disgusting lengths. Thankfully I have rehabilitated myself but Jesus Christ, was it hard. It was so bad. I'm someone who makes strong eye contact and doesn't falter in social situations but after the COVID years I couldn't look at anyone straight, I would shake after talking to someone for more than 30 seconds and my nerves would make my head twitch out of anxiety, the only way I could pacify it was by chattering my teeth mid conversation. My stress was sky high. One of the saddest things of all is that I lost my smile during that time with masks and stuff. Just like how I couldn't control my head movement, I lost the control of the lower covered region of my face.

I'm still struggling with it till today, I can't smile for too long cause my face isn't used to it. I start twitching or I drop the whole smile entirely, which makes me look like Kanye West that one time when he was all smiles and suddenly sports a sullen face out of nowhere. I'm working on it though, it's the only part of my unwanted quirks which is still being ironed out.

Life is really fluid, everything is dynamic and forever fluctuating. It is what is it. The best thing I can do is look for what feels best and go with it. Make mistakes, fix them and learn.

[catzula]

Request: Hiii!!! Congratulations on 600 🥳🥳🥳. You deserve it all and more bby. I'm so proud of you. I hope that you're staying healthy and hydrated and taking enough breaks.

Ummm one thing I like about myself is that I'm a very open minded person and dont judge. And could I please request Oikawa please?? Thank you so so much, and remember to drink water!!! ❤🧡💛💚💙💜 xxx

a/n: oikawa brr

honorable mentions: fluff, mentions of insecurities, royal au, prince Oikawa, fem!princess reader, 1k

Also, the event is now closed, but you can check out the masterlist from here!

Oikawa feels terrified.

People are dancing, jumping, shouting with glee, everyone at least a bit tipsy, the beer glasses in their hands seem like they never go out.

Each time the dance comes to a jump, the golden fluid in cups jumps with them as well, glinting under the candlelight.

His eyes fall on you, you whose dancing in the middle of the ballroom, laughing with everyone else, dancing carelessly at the day that's supposed to be the happiest of your life.

You seem to be enjoying it, and it only makes Oikawa that more anxious.

He doesn't know you well; you've only met a few times before, each time chaperoned and with masks fit to blue-bloods such as yourselves.

All your meetings consisted of empty words and kind- but fake smiles, chatting mindlessly on what's seen appropriate of a prince and a princess that are soon to wed.

You seem lovely, and Oikawa isn't that much sad he's marrying you- he feels like you can get along well if you get to know each other better. No, Oikawa isn't feeling like this because he's marrying you, but because you're marrying him.

He, the charming prince- smart, funny, and kind, any girl would kill to be in your place, he's aware.

Everyone wants to be with him, get to know and be acknowledged by him- but there is a catch. Whenever someone does manage to get to know him, the magic gets broken, the facade, sparkling fog over the rotten thing he calls his personality comes on the surface of the water, and people leave.

Oikawa went through this one too many times, so he embodied the fake persona he puts on, never letting anyone get close to him enough to see what's underneath.

He knew this day was to come, though. Oikawa knew he was going to marry someone so he could unite his kingdom and theirs, but he always hoped it wouldn't be you.

Not because he didn't like you, though, on the contrary, because he liked you maybe a little more than the other princesses. Oikawa just hoped- he hoped you wouldn't regret marrying him, or even worse, be disappointed with who he really was.

Once again, his eyes spot you in the room, fighting a smile when he finds you looking at him, as well. There's a sheen layer of sweat on your face, making you glow under the candlelight, face bright with a smile, hair messed up with all the dancing and jumping.

His gaze never once leaves you as you find your way to him, breathless as your hand reaches for his.

"You look so grim, my lord." You chuckle, lightly tugging him to dance. "Is there something bothering you?"

You were always so kind, easy to talk to, it made him feel like he could tell you anything, and you would... you would smile in answer. He shakes his head no, letting you pull him towards the inner room.

The air is warmer and heavier, it smells of beer, but looking at your smiling face, it seems none of them matters.

His movements are fit to a prince, dancing fluidly and putting every other to shame. You make a small comment on it, as well, earning a chuckle from the prince. "It would be odd if I didn't know how to dance, though, wouldn't it?"

You nod, but you seem troubled.

"Is there anything you can't do, my lord?" He hears your soft voice as Oikawa twirls you in his arms. Despite his hopes, you catch the small frown his lips press into, brows pulling together, even only a millimeter. "I don't mean disrespect," you quickly retort. "I was just asking so I could get to know you a little better."

When he stays silent, you once again fill the silence with your voice. "I, for example, can't sing."

You snicker as you watch his eyes widen. "You can't?"

"Nope, I promise you, you haven't seen anyone sing worse than me."

"But I've been told you have an angelic voice!" He confronts you, but his shoulders are shaking just a little bit. "Yeah, well-" you smile sheepishly, "I can't."

For whatever reason, this makes Oikawa feel just a bit better. To hear you aren't what the rumors of you show you to be, makes Oikawa feel like maybe, you're a little similar.

"I can't use a bow."

You hear him whisper minutes after your confession, and it takes you by shock. What takes Oikawa by bigger shock is, however, when you start to laugh.

"Is it really that funny?" He scoffs with embarrassment as you're still laughing. You shake your head no, trying to stop your giggles, but it takes you a minute. "It's just- you said it as if it's the worst thing ever!"

"It is a bad thing!" The prince protests, cheeks flushed with either glee or a product of dancing. "I even have a reputation about how good I am with a bow- but I can't hit a standing target if it killed me."

"Well, I can't do a knot."

"I don't like writing."

"Very bad with numbers."

"Afraid of horses."

The confessions slip out of your mouths uncontrollably, each one making both of you break out with laughter until-

"I'm not... very honest." Oikawa mumbles to your ear; he's gotten closer to you these last few dances, you realize, your chests almost pressing together. He holds his breath, afraid of your reaction, his tense shoulders dropping when he feels you chuckle once again. "I see." You murmur. "That's a little relieving to hear if I'm being honest."

"What?"

You shrug. "It's just- you know, my lord, you have quite the reputation." You go on talking when he stands quiet. "You're portrayed as this man, free of taint and capable of anything- and it was worrying me you were that flawless."

"You wouldn't... want me to be?"

You chuckle at his confused stare. "I wouldn't be opposed to it! But it would make me really nervous, as well. I think it's nice to know you're human, too, just as we are. Like marrying a unicorn or something." you joke.

Were you really worried he was flawless? It's so absurd that Oikawa feels he's about to burst out laughing.

"Well, don't you worry, my princess," a soft chuckle emerges from the man. "I have many flaws to show you."

"And I have many myself." You beam at him.

Both of you will discover these flaws and insecurities over time, but you have a life ahead of you to do so.

And despite still holding his former thoughts, Oikawa's heart feels just a little lighter knowing you're here to get to know him with his flaws.

reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated <3

[secretshinigami]

making the most of it

Author: @realtruesuccessor For: @yagami-raito-kun Pairings/Characters: Near | Nate River/Yagami Light, background Linda/Matsuda, Near | Nate River, Yagami Light, Linda (Death Note), Matsuda Touta, Watari Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, just typical superhero/action movie stuff Prompt: Near is a superhero, Light is a supervillain, they get set up on a blind double date and have to roll with it to protect their secret identities Author’s notes: This was super fun to write! Thank you for the amazing prompt! I hope this is what you were looking for, and that you enjoy it!

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

Nate River had never given much thought to the idea of romance. He had experienced fleeting crushes in the past, but never any serious feelings, and he had never even been kissed at the ripe old age of eighteen. There were much more pressing issues in his life besides the lack of social milestones, so Nate wasn’t too concerned about his deficits in romantic experience. 

  Unfortunately, his roommate Linda did not have the same opinion. 

  “You’re going to die alone if you keep this up.”

  Nate looked up from the small toy robot that had been occupying his attention before Linda opened her mouth. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  Linda sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you go on a date,” she said, as if that clarified anything. 

  “So?”

  “So, you’ll end up alone and unhappy unless you find yourself a nice man.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his hand to curl a finger around a strand of wavy white hair. “You’re making an awful lot of bold assumptions.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  Nate paused, took a moment to consider the brief crushes he had in the past, and then admitted a small concession. “Not about my preference for men, but about my impending lonely fate? That remains to be seen.”

  Linda approached Nate’s spot on the floor, where he was surrounded by tiny action figures. She sat down next to him, and picked up a small gray object from the circle of toys around him. “I’m worried about you, Nate,” she explained. “You’re always holed up in your room, messing around with these toys, but I think you should get out more and I have the perfect idea to help with that.”

  Eyeing the object in her hand, Nate uncurled his finger from his hair. He reached over and plucked the tiny gray circle from her grasp, then stuffed the item into his pocket. “Your concern is noted,” he said, perhaps a bit too sharp. “Unfortunately for you, I disagree.”

  “Can you hear me out, at least?” 

  “You’ve given me no compelling reason to do that, so the answer is no. Please leave me alone.”

  Silence rang throughout the apartment, echoing with the sting of Linda’s hurt feelings. Nate didn’t feel sorry in the least; in fact, he felt entirely justified. After all, Linda had barged into his room and insulted his lifestyle. He was in the right to be short and snappy with her.

Nate watched impassively as Linda’s face fell. His roommate’s usually bright smile turned into a sullen frown, and her blue eyes became downcast. If Nate had been a different sort of person, he might have been moved by this display, but as it was, Linda’s wounded emotions did nothing to stir his heart or change his mind. 

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Linda muttered, her voice small and hurt.

  “I have no idea why you’re suddenly so invested in my romantic life, but whatever your reasons, you brought this on yourself by disparaging my hobbies.”

  “Okay, okay, I guess you’re right. I should have gone about this in a different way.”

  “Yes, you should have, but there’s no changing the past and no use lingering on this topic anymore. Weren’t you leaving?”

  With a heavy sigh, Linda got up and left Nate to his own devices.

  ~

  The city was dark at night, lit only by the occasional street lamp.

  “Where is the tracker now, Watari?”

  Near made his way through the gloomy city streets, dodging the warm circles of light cast by the lampposts. He stuck to dark, shadowy corners like glue, crouching behind parked cars and navigating narrow alleyways. 

  A voice crackled over the communication device in Near’s ear. “One block away, Near,” Watari said. “The location is pinging from that abandoned grocery store on the corner.”

  As Near approached the store, he tugged his dark cowl down over his hair and eyes, shielding them from view. The streets were mostly empty, but he didn’t want to risk being identified, even by the vagrants who frequented this part of the city in the dead of night. After all, his white hair and gray eyes were rather distinctive. If Near ever let his guard down, it wouldn’t take a genius to eventually trace the actions of the vigilante Near back to the identity of one Nate River.

  “Alright, I’m standing in front of the store now.”

  “Yes, thank you. The tracker you placed on that nasty fellow is still pinging from inside that building.”

  “Hmm, I really do hope this doesn’t end in physical violence. You know how much I hate fighting.”

  “I’m aware of that, and I also know that you’ve had a very long night already, but at least Lidner will be pleased to hear that you were finally able to put some of her training to good use.”

  Near made a face. His mouth twisted into a displeased frown. “That’s not funny.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny, I’m being completely serious. She’ll love to hear that you fought off a villain with a stick.”

  “First of all, this isn’t exactly a stick. It’s a bō,” Near corrected. “Second of all, perhaps you’re correct. She seems to puff up with pride whenever I acknowledge her skills.”

  “Yes, people tend to do that when you pay them a compliment.”

  Ignoring Watari’s snark, Near began the task of sneaking into the dark building. He crept forward, towards the front of the store, keeping low to the ground. There wasn’t any light coming from the windows or the door, but Near had learned from experience that one could never be too careful when dealing with villains. The building seemed lifeless and empty from the outside, but there could be traps set inside - or even the villain himself, tracker and all. So, Near was sure to be stealthy as he peeked into the store from a low, dirty window.

  The interior of the old shop seemed to be exactly what Near had expected. Mostly empty, save for a few shelves, and thick layers of dust covering every visible surface. Clearly, the store hadn’t been active in many years. It was the perfect place for squatters to take refuge - or for mysterious villains to set up a hideout. 

  “Best entrance route?” Near asked, eyeing the door in the corner of the shop, which appeared to lead somewhere deeper into the building. If Near had to guess, he would say that the door probably led to some sort of old office or employee break room. The door was dark and heavy-looking, with a shiny silver knob that could have easily been rigged with a villainous trap. 

  “You mean, besides walking right through the front door?” Watari teased.

  “Watari, please, this is serious.”

  “Alright, alright, I understand, I’m searching for an aerial view now.”

  As Near waited for Watari’s next message, he took another look around the interior of the store. None of the dust seemed to be disturbed; the floor and the shelves all appeared to be completely untouched by human feet or hands, at least for the past few months. 

  Still, Near considered, the room could be monitored with hidden cameras and microphones. Best that I don’t use the main entrance unless there’s no other option.

  “According to the aerial view, there’s a skylight towards the back of the building,” Watari announced. 

  Near frowned, and reached up to rub a strand of his own white hair between two fingers. “I don’t see a skylight from my current location, so the skylight must lead into the back room of the store. I can skip the main shop area entirely.”

  “Well, that works out nicely.”

  About fifteen minutes later, Near found himself on top of the roof, breathing heavily from exertion. “I’m never doing that again,” he managed in between gulps of air. 

  “Never say never, Near.”

  After catching his breath, Near approached the skylight and peered through it. The bright moon illuminated the room beneath the glass, casting everything in a soft white glow. Through the skylight, Near could see the back room of the shop, which appeared mostly empty, save for a wooden desk. 

  “I’m entering the building now,” Near said, reaching to unlatch the skylight.

  “Wait, Near!” Watari cried out, at the exact same time an unfamiliar voice whispered: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Near whipped around, bringing up his bō staff in a fluid motion.

  A masked man stood before Near, with his gloved hands raised in mock surrender. 

  “Who are you?” Near asked, his tone dark and serious. 

  The man smirked, then nodded to one of his hands. A familiar, small gray object rested between the fingers of his red leather-covered hand. 

  The tracker.

  “Shit,” Near muttered under his breath.

  “Looking for this?” The man asked, sounding carefree and quite pleased with himself. His voice was slightly deeper than Near had imagined, but it suited him just the same.

  On impulse, Near jabbed at the mysterious villain with his staff.

  As though he moved through the shadows, the man expertly evaded Near’s attack. He dodged, twisted, and kicked out. His dark boot landed in the center of Near’s chest, pushing the hero back. 

  Near stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. His ankle hit something behind him, probably a ledge of some kind, and suddenly, he was falling. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the world warped around him. 

  Like something out of a movie, Near found himself falling in slow motion - legs bending, glass cracking from somewhere behind him, his body descending further and further into darkness. 

  Before Near could even process what was happening, the villain turned away. His silhouette was illuminated by the bright backdrop of the moon. He glanced over his shoulder as Near fell through the skylight. His brown eyes sparkled with the dual flickers of triumph and pride.

  The villain’s smug grin was the last thing Near saw before darkness enveloped him completely. 

  ~

  “I can’t believe you finally roped me into this nonsense,” Nate River said. 

  Linda and Nate sat on a bench together, as the sky darkened and the air became thin and cold. She wore a coat and a light scarf over her dress, while he was dressed in only a collared button-up shirt and comfortable pants. The bright yellow bulbs from the nearby carnival casted the two roommates in a soft glow. Despite the warm light, Nate shivered, and Linda looked around frantically; her foot was tapping incessantly against the hard concrete of the sidewalk. 

  “Yes, well, this nonsense is going to do wonders for your social life, if those silly boys ever show up,” Linda said, glancing down at her phone with a frown. 

  Nate rolled his eyes. “First of all, my social life is perfectly satisfying as it is, thank you very much. Second of all, I’m sure they’ll be here any minute now.”

  “I guess you’re right about that second thing,” Linda conceded, pointing towards a pair of young Japanese men who were quickly approaching their bench. “And we’ve already been over the first thing.”

  The two men arrived at their bench, and Nate got a good look at both of them for the first time. One of the men, whom Linda greeted as ‘Matsuda’, had dark hair and big brown eyes that suited his handsome face and gentle expression. The other man was introduced as Light Yagami, a close friend of Matsuda’s and a fellow Japanese exchange student. Light’s hair was significantly lighter than Matsuda’s, and although his eyes were a similar shade of brown, his gaze spoke of a sharp intelligence that far exceeded his bumbling friend.

  Nate knew those eyes.

  That attractive pair of brown eyes had smirked at him, only a few nights ago, on a moon-drenched rooftop.

  “Light Yagami, was it?” Nate clarified, his eyes traveling over every inch of Light’s pretty face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  After a beat, Light smiled at Nate. His smile was polite, but had an air of deceptive falseness about it. There was something lurking underneath the surface of that mask - some dark and dangerous secret that only Nate could truly see. 

  “It’s a pleasure to see you too, Nate,” Light said. His voice was familiar to Nate, just as deep and attractive as Nate remembered.

  Unlike Matsuda, Light spoke English with a near-perfect American accent. 

  As Linda pulled Matsuda towards the carnival, Nate fell into step beside Light. The pair of them walked in silence for a bit, each of them calmly observing their surroundings. Nate noticed that the lights from the carnival complimented Light’s warm brown hair very well; his pretty locks seemed almost golden under the electric buzz of the soft outdoor string lights. Not even Linda’s incessant babbling could distract Nate from his careful observation of Light Yagami’s lustrous hair.

  Suddenly, Light tore his gaze away from a crowd of people near the food vendors. As the group he had been watching moved on, Light turned his head to face Nate and looked at him - truly looked at him - for the first time. 

  “Are you cold, Nate?” Light asked, glancing down at Nate’s chest. 

  Nate could see that Light’s preppy jacket protected him from the slight chill of the night air. After all, Light wasn’t shivering at all, whereas Nate couldn’t help but tremble at the brush of a breeze against his pale skin. He really, really couldn’t help it - he had always been sensitive to temperature changes, ever since he was a young child. It wasn’t a particularly debilitating condition, but it could sometimes be annoying. 

  Such as, right now.

  Nate’s brain was suddenly filled with images of Light offering him his jacket, like a scene straight out of a cheesy romance movie from the 1980s. 

  “No,” Nate said, like a liar. “I’m not cold.”

  “If you insist. In that case, perhaps you’re simply eager for this double date to be over with, so you can go home?”

  Nate raised an eyebrow, suddenly very thankful that Linda and Matsuda had moved out of earshot. “That’s awfully observant of you.”

  Light shook his head, and a small smile crept onto his face. “No, I’m just projecting a bit, I think.”

  “Ah, I see. So, you don’t want to be here either.”

  “That’s correct. Matsuda wanted me to come along though, and I had no good reason to say no. If I had alternate plans, trust me, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this place.”

  “You couldn’t have said that you were studying, or something like that?”

  Once again, Light shook his head. He glared at a flimsy-looking carnival ride. “Matsuda is my roommate, and one of my oldest friends from back home in Japan. We also share many classes together, and he knows my schedule almost as well as he knows his own. He knows I don’t have any exams or major assignments coming up anytime soon.”

  “Hmm, I see, that must be difficult.”

  Light nodded. 

  A moment of awkward silence stretched between them, before Light broke the silence with a question.

  “And what about you, Nate? Why are you really here, if you’re not actually interested in dating?”

  “Similarly to yourself, I was compelled by my roommate to attend this little meeting. She made it clear that Mr. Matsuda wanted to go on a date with her, but he insisted on a double date, and so she needed me to step in and serve that role.”

  “That makes sense,” Light said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Matsuda has always been anxious about romance and relationships with women, so he thought more company might take the edge off of his nervousness.”

  Nate glanced over at Linda and Matsuda, who were standing a few booths away, at one of the carnival games. Through the crowd of happy fairgoers, Nate could clearly see the wide smile on Linda’s face. Matsuda said something to her, and she threw her head back and laughed with abandon. Nate recalled Linda’s pleading face from earlier, when she had practically begged Nate to go on the date with her, and her appearance now was certainly a stark contrast to that face.

  Unable to stop the small smile from creeping onto his face, Nate turned away from Light. “Well, they seem to be having fun, so I suppose this night isn’t a complete waste of time.”

  Light nodded, eyeing one of the nearby game booths. “Perhaps we can have some fun as well?” He asked, gesturing to the booth.

  “You can’t be serious. I thought you didn’t want to be here.”

  “True, I’d love to just go home right now, but I can’t without letting my roommate down, so I might as well make the most of this night, right?”

  “I suppose you have a point.”

  With that, Nate and Light approached the game booth.

  Ten minutes later, Nate was holding a giant fluffy white bunny - a stuffed animal that Light had won at the silly dart game. 

  Nate frowned, staring down at the offending rabbit. “You’re better than me at darts,” he grumbled.

  Light chuckled. “No, I think I just got lucky,” he said, looking at Nate with a curious expression on his face. “Regardless, I hope you like it. Are you going to give it a name?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” Nate said. He stared at Light’s face, observing the other man with a careful attention to detail. “His name is Kira.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Oh? You figured that out rather quickly, didn’t you?” 

  Nate nodded, then glanced away. Light’s expression and words told him everything that he needed to know.

  “And? What are you going to do with Kira, now that you have him?” Light asked, his voice laced with double meaning.

  Scoffing, Nate hugged the bunny closer to his chest, and continued to avoid Light’s gaze. “I’ll turn him over to the proper authorities, of course.”

  It was Light’s turn to scoff. “You won’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Kira is helping society, and also, you’re wildly attracted to me.”

  Nate almost dropped the stuffed rabbit. He turned towards Light, and a soft pink blush spread across his cheeks. His eyes went wide.

  “Kira kills people,” Nate managed, cursing himself.

  “Only rotten people,” Light corrected. “This world is rotten, but Kira is making it better, so good people can live happy and peaceful lives.”

  Nate shook his head. “Murdering a few corrupt politicians and businessmen isn’t going to magically make the system just or right. All it does is make Kira a murderer.”

  “Hmm, well, if Kira is simply a murderer and a villain in your eyes, what about that vigilante? Near, wasn’t it?”

  “Near doesn’t kill people.”

  “Yet, the police are still hunting him with the same energy that they use to hunt Kira. Isn’t that interesting? I imagine they’d be grateful to receive any hint of Near’s true identity, no matter the source of the information.”

  Well, that was a threat.

  At that exact moment, Linda rushed up to them, holding a plate full of funnel cake. “Come on, guys, Matsu bought me this cake and I can’t eat it all on my own! Share it with me!” 

  Nate looked from the cake, to Light, and then back to the cake. After a moment of hesitation, he reached up and grabbed a small piece of fried dough from the plate. He held the piece up towards Light’s lips. 

  “Here,” Nate prompted. “Have you ever tried funnel cake before?”

  Light’s eyes widened, and he stared at Nate in disbelief. “No, I haven’t,” he admitted, shocked and quiet. 

  Nate held the cake up a little closer to Light’s face, and Light leaned forward slightly, meeting him halfway. When Light took the cake into his mouth, his lips brushed lightly over Nate’s fingers. The lips were warm, and felt almost electric against Nate’s skin. Nate resisted the urge to shiver. Something deep and primal was stirring inside of him, something that he couldn’t really place, but certainly didn’t feel familiar. 

  Something that made him want to be closer to Light Yagami, despite the knowledge of his date’s true identity. 

  From that point onwards, the date proceeded normally for the most part. Nate and Light attempted to act naturally around Linda and Matsuda, saving all double-life talk for later. After all, neither of them wanted to duke it out in front of their roommates, or the dozens of other citizens strolling around nearby. So, they made more polite conversation as Linda and Matsuda dragged them around to different booths and rides.

  Finally, the night seemed to be reaching an end. Linda and Matsuda had snuck off somewhere, presumably to say goodbye to each other properly before parting ways. Nate and Light were left alone, near an empty patch of grass. 

  An awkward silence hung between them, not for the first time that night. Nate wasn’t exactly sure what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He couldn’t exactly leave the carnival and go turn Light over to the police - for one, he didn’t have any physical or concrete evidence that Light was the villain known as Kira, and perhaps even more concerning, Light had vaguely threatened to out him to the cops if he was ever caught. All of which put Nate in a very uncertain position: he knew the identity of the villain Kira, but wasn’t in any position to do anything about it.

  Light cleared his throat, which drew Nate’s attention. When Nate glanced over, he saw that Light was staring at him with another odd expression on his face, a look that Nate couldn’t really identify. 

  “What?” Nate asked, shifting uncomfortably, and clutching the stuffed bunny tighter against his chest.

  “I--”

  Whatever Light had begun to say was cut off with a sharp BANG! 

  Nate nearly jumped out of his own skin. His upper body grew very tense, very quickly, and he shuffled closer to Light. 

  On what must have been some kind of protective instinct, Light reached out and put his arm around Nate’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” Light said, suddenly calm and soothing. “It’s just the fireworks.”

  “Fireworks? Linda didn’t say there would be fireworks.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know? I take it you’re not a fan of loud, sudden noises, huh?”

  Nate shook his head. “I’m not a fan of them in the best of times, and these happen to be the worst of times, so you can only imagine how I feel in this moment.”

  Light winced, and pulled his arm away. Nate found, quite strangely, that he missed the subtle warmth and pressure of Light’s hand on his body, even though it had only been there for a short while.

  “I want to apologize,” Light said softly, barely audible over the continued explosions from the fireworks. 

  “For what?” Nate asked, genuinely confused.

  “For your tumble through the skylight. I know you seem to be fine now, but I’m sure falling through a window and landing on a hard floor hurts like hell at first.”

  Nate blinked. “Yes, it does. And no, I don’t accept your apology, because I don’t believe you’re actually sorry for what you’ve done, or for what you continue to do.”

  Light didn’t respond to that, only gazing at Nate in an impressed silence.

  Suddenly, Linda and Matsuda reappeared, both of them pink-cheeked and out of breath. Before Nate and Light could say much more to each other, they’re both pulled away by their respective roommates, pulled apart, and brought home.

  ~

  At home, in the quiet and darkness of his room, Nate felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. 

  A sudden buzz lit up his phone, and he glanced down without thinking - only to see a text from an unknown number splashed across his screen. He read the message silently, and then smiled softly to himself. 

  Nate knew that he would eventually be the one to bring Light Yagami to justice, regardless of the cost to himself. But he still had to gather evidence to prove his case, and in the meantime, well...why not have some fun and make the most of it?

[captain-aralias]

Life stuff

this feels kind of weird, because i’ve never used my tumblr like this, but i would have written something on my livejournal, and i want people to know - i just dont want to have to tell people about it, or really talk about it at all. 

but i also wanted to write this, idk. 

(TW: impending death of a parent)

my mum has cancer. 

it’s a rare form of cancer, called peritoneal cancer, which is similar to but different from ovarian cancer - i think it mostly gets diagnosed (like my mum’s) when it’s too late to do anything about it. all the treatment has been palliative only i.e. letting her live as long and as comfortably as possible.

she was diagnosed in september last year - about a year ago, a few months after running the ‘virtual’ london marathon on the isle of wight, where she lives, and obviously deep in lockdown. 

as someone undergoing chemo, she was deemed extremely vulnerable to covid, and so she spent most of the early pandemic isolating. she also said she didn’t see any point in my brother and i visitng her, particularly given the risks, because we could talk via facetime - which is fair enough - all of which meant my brother and i didn’t go to visit her until May this year, after she’d done the first lot of chemo and was already doing much better again. 

a few months after that, we found out that while she’d responded really well to the chemo, her cancer wasn’t responding at all to the maintenance drugs that were suposed to stop it coming back, so she came off the drugs completely. medical advice was basically chemo is as effective whenever you do it, so you might as well enjoy your life for a while, we’ll monitor it every month, and when things start to get too bad, we’ll put you back in chemo. 

it’s friday tomorrow - so two fridays ago, i saw my mum in london after she’d just seen hamilton with her partner, graham. both of them loved hamilton. her hair had grown back, she seemed pretty normal. about a week later, she was in A&E - and she’s been in the hospital all week. she’s got a total bowel obstruction, which means she can’t eat and hasn’t eaten since last week.

now in a weird situation where there are a few tricky, difficult options (including being moved off the island back onto the mainland to a bigger hospital) that will mean that she stays alive long enough to get the chemo, which will probably get her back to hamilton-watching strength, or ... she could die really soon. like, in a few days. 

we can’t visit. her partner can’t visit because covid - there’s this really sad-making photo of him looking happy on the phone through a window to my mum, also on the phone, inside the hospital. 

i feel...

???? :( :( :( ....

i guess this is the main point of the post. i’m not writing this crying, i’m writing it pretty neutrally - because my brain isn’t really processing it right now, and mostly doesn’t process it. 

i did cry earlier today while on the phone to various people, and then i went back to work. i hate crying, i hate being sad, and i dont like people comforting me, because it makes me realise that i have something to be sad about. 

i’ve known she had cancer for a year. i haven’t been able to hang out with her most of that time. i would say, we are fairly close, although not nearly as close as some families. we don’t talk every week, but we talk regularly, and have seen each other regularly. 

i’m so incredibly privileged that nothing that bad has ever happened to me, even though i’m 35. i’ve never been to a funeral, which seemed like a major life win and now i think was a mistake, i should have gone to funerals for people i card about less to help get used to it. 

the literal only comparison i have to how i feel is when my cat Anton died suddenly  about 3 years ago - i handled it with a mix of not thinking about it, being intensely sad for as brief a period as i could, and probably by thinking about how sad my girlfriend was about it, and sort of sidestepping my own feelings in comparison. 

i remember when my last remaining grandparent died - and i was about 14 or something - i wasn’t sad for myself, i was only sad for her my dad being sad. for ages, i worried that i was not going to be sad enough about this - and i still sort of am. 

but i also passionately hate the idea of being sad and i know i’ll look to avoid it as much as possible, and try and get on with my life. 

i know my mum dying isn’t about me - when people write after death it’s about the person who died, obviously. that makes sense. but this post isn’t about my mum, who is a very cool person, much cooler than me - it’s about me. because i am self-obsessed and this is going to wreck my life for a while.

it’s weird, because i can see it on the horizon but it’s not happening yet. and i dont know whether that’s good or bad - i feel like it’s good, in a way. someone ages ago told me that the grieving period starts when you get the news. that seems very true to me - but also, i know that it’s going to ramp up, and so i’m like in the expectation of true grief right now. 

it’s sort of like she died, but also is still going to die, but also i can magically still talk to her. which is really nice, in a way, it’s like a second chance, because i know i didn’t reach out enough before she had cancer. and i’m aware enough of my own actions that i know this is what’s been going on in my head the past year - i should reach out more, because she has cancer, but i dont want to make it seem like i’m reaching out because she has cancer, even though she knows i know she has cancer....... and also, i’m busy writing this fic. /o\

the fact that she seemed to recover (even though my mum insisted on saying ‘i am not recovered, i’m going to die soon’ like several time as a day as a disclaimer) also totally messed with my head, because i knew logically - ok, it’s happening. but also, things seemed so normal when we speak. even when i called her today, and she hasn’t eaten for a week, it seemed normal. 

btw - i realised this week i had no idea how cancer killed people. my mum is a scientist and has looked up all kinds of things about what’s killing her; i’m clearly a simon snow and didn’t want to think about things i can’t help. if you’d asked me, i’d have said like... it poisons you or something, or blocks bloodflow to your brain. not what i think will actually do it which is.... starvation. or being too weak to survive being pumped full of the poison that is intended to kill the cancer. (that one i guess i could have predicted.) man - cancer sucks. i mean, we all knew it. 

(i failed to get into cambridge university at interview stage, many years ago. the man who interviewed me gave me some extremely memorable feedback, which is that i needed to dial back the ‘defensive irony’ - which i thnk in that context meant i put myself down and tried to make a joke of everything. i remember when i got the phonecall to say Anton, my cat, was dead, i literally did not know what to do with my voice - because my instinct was to try and make the vet feel better, and also to present myself as bright and capable, and yet this unexpected and devasting news had just come through. rainbow wrote something sort of similar because she’s a good writer, for shepard as he tells penny about his curse. i feel like that.) 

what else did i want to say? 

i thought i had more time. ‘hamilton’ will probably always be tied to this moment in my mind, because of how much i’ve spoken to my mum about it in the past few weeks (i sent her the remix - she liked it, she listened to it in hospital while trying to drink more than 100ml of fluids) but yeah - this is basically a line from hamilton here. whatever. don’t make me feel my own feelings, let me just quote things. i dont like my own feelings. (no, i dont want to go to therapy - they’d make me talk about my feelings all the time, i’m british for god’s sake.) 

i’m 35 - my mum is 68. i didn’t think she’d die this early or that i’d have to deal with this yet. but then i also don’t think bad things are ever going to happen to me - because mostly they haven’t, see above. i wear a mask and am double vaccinated because i’m not an asshole, but i dont really believe i’ll get covid because bad things don’t happen to me. i didn’t think my mum would die - maybe ever, but definitely not yet. she’s been retired a decade after teaching (science) and has enjoyed it. 

i thought i had time to not have kids yet - which is the other thing (like hamilton) that this moment is really tied up with for me. i feel like 35 is getting quite old, but also not that old to still not have kids, but intend to maybe have them. my feelings about kids were basically like - up until like 25, i thought, yes, definitely. i mean, before i had a realtiosnhip (22-ish), i just assumed i would probably have a het marriage and have kids etc, like people do, but after that we were still talking, yes, children at some point. 

didn’t prioritise it for a few reasons - none of my close friends had children until quite recently, so it just didn’t seem like an urgent thing in the way that it probably does for people with different friendship groups. waiting to be settled enough in a job to be able to take maternity leave without it feeling like a rip off for my employer. waiting for a good time in erin’s PhD writing cycle. and then pandemic. and then a few years ago, maybe as i turned 30, i thought - maybe we won’ have kids, because we still haven’t - and i vocalised that to erin. 

also, i know a lot of people are gay and have children, so it’s not like it’s a thing that is impossible at all, but it’s much much harder if you have to leave your home and your relationship in order to get a child. it has to be a very very conscious decisions. i have friend who are men who have good genes, but we’re not so close i want to ask them for their sperm/to be involved however remotely in making a child - and (i was surprised to discover) (what a lot of things i dont know anything about) you an’t really just buy sperm, it’s not truly legal except through a clinic. and it’s extremely expensive to get inseminated in a clinic, and the NHS don’t really do that, so you do have to pay it. i thought kids would be expensive after they were born, but not before. and i REALLY wanted a house, much much more than - i think even today - i’ve ever wanted a child. i REALLY wanted a house - and now we have a house, and it’s pretty good. but - that’s where the money went, until the pandemic - thanks pandemic - so now we do have some disposable cash at last, because i didn’t commute. 

but now erin is worried about climate change - and wheher it’s right to bring more children into the world, and other things. and.... i think i do want to be pregnant, it’s what i’m planning for - don’t leave this job (which admittedly i also really like, and pays me well - i dont thin i need to leave) because next stop maternity leave, but..... 

i don’t know whether i am thinking, time ot have kids because my best friend just had a baby (the baby’s name is horatio - for real, i actually love this name) (i also haven’t seen her or the baby except over skype, because anna - my friend - is, like my mother, also scared of pandemic) and my brain is like - ok, well, if anna is doing it, i guess the time is here 

AND - i know there’s a large part of me that was like, gotta be pregnant and ideally have the baby before my mum dies so she gets to see that she had a grandchild. my brother and i are both queer, btw, in case you were wondering - he’s considering whether he wants to transition right now (but is still happy with he/him pronouns) and - you may find this astonishing, but i genuinely don’t know whether he’d consider himself ace, or has been in relationships. he’s very private, he has OCD and is in therapy - but anyway, he’s probably not having kids anytime soon (i think!) and graham - my mum’s boyfriend/partner of 10+ years. -has grandchildren, but my extremely middleclass white (but definitely not conservative voters, always 100% not-tory) parents ended up with me and my brother.... and i don’t know, as i say, i don’t know whether my brain is saying ‘have kids before it’s too late’ - although i know by now that it will be too late. even if my mum recovers from this, this time, i don’t think i can produce a child before she dies - and she isn’t asking me too, she’s not like that, but i would have liked her to be there. i thought she would be. 

so - i’m thinking about that. also, about getting a dog. i really want a dog - although i don’t want to upset the three cats (one we’ve had for eight years or so, the other two we got after Anton died). it’s ALSO really hard and expensive to get a dog. you’d think with all these ‘a dog isn’t just for the pandemic, a dog is for life’ type adverts around, that it would be easy to adcidentally get a dog - i’ve looked! you ccan’t get a dog unless you have no cats and you’re super experienced and can take a dog with lots of trauma or medical problems, or you’re willing to pay thousands of pounds. like - even for a regular not even pedigree dog - at least a thousand. pedigree dog - several thousand. i dont want a puppy either - i want a dog. 

and - this is embarrassing to admit, but i’ve alrady told erin - i genuinely had a phase of being super annoyed when i’d read fics where someone just ‘got a dog’. it’s not that simple!!! it’s fiction, it doesn’t matter - chill out. the baby thing too - although weirdly not fics where magic meant it was possible to get a baby, weirdly it was smut. i had a brief week or so of crazy (and i don’t think i am that crazy) where i’d read about fictional semen and just be like - wtf, it’s so hard to get hold of that shit. (it’s not real, this isn’t real semen being wasted, calm down - and i dont even really know if i want kids, i might just think i do.) 

the other thing about the bad thing being soon but not yet (but also being all the time, but not if you dnt think about it) is that i’m thinking - should i prioritise writing my remix now, in case my mum dies and i’m too sad to do it, and then i didn’t do my remix? i was definitely thinking this while writing classroom politics (i hope my mum doesn’t die becaue i dont want to be too sad to miss the deadline) and in the run up to AWTWB .....

today i wrote a list of things for work that would need to be picked up if i have to unexpectedly stop working, either because i’m too sad, or because i have to do funeral stuff, or .... i guess legal stuff about settling the estate. (i guess this happens to a lot of people, too, but it’s also a bit of a mindfuck that my brother and i will inherit her house and a bunch of cash when she dies - i’m pretty well off, my brotehr does virtual reality theatre stuff so really isn’t - we’ve talked about how much easier both of our lives will be with a huge injection of cash, and how we dont know what to feel about that) (great news, dogs and kids are really expensive! time to find out whether i really wanted to spend my money on those.) told people i like at work that it’s coming, and that i dont want to talk about it. and mostly just... carrying on with life, really. until it happens. 

it’s so weird how easy it is to carry on most of the time.i know my mum’s partner is not doing nearly so well - he has to cope with an empty house and he’s retired. i’ve had periods - including right now - where i wake up every morning and check my phone to see whehter someone called me or texted me to tell me it’s over. but most of the day i’m actually really fine. i even had an ok day today. and i don’t know whether i want that to be the case, or whether i shouldn’t let myself do that. i dont know what i should prepare for in terms of where i’ll be - will i want lots of stuff to distract me (this is my guess) and work is very good for that, or i will want to clear time and space because i can’t operate and dont want people to offer me comfort. (FYI - this post isn’t written to make people say anything to me, i definitely dont want to talk about it, so please don’t feel you either have to comment or check in on me - i don’t really want you to. it’s enough to have written it, in my own time, in my own space.)

i think i wanted to write this post in a way because i thought i probably wouldnt want to write it after my mum died - because i probably wouldn’t want to say anything about it at all, for a few years. 

my mum keeps telling me about the show ‘jane the virgin’ - which she’s half way through. shhe asked me to give it a try, so i did (she often tells me about shows on radio 4, which i rarely listen to. i thouht i had more time.) i’ve watched an episode (because she has cancer, i should listen to her recommendations)(but i dont want her to know that’s why i did it) and i do quite like - it’s light and frothy and well cut together (although about kids and artificial insemination, of course). i guess in a worse case scenario where i’m too sad to work or write, i will probably watch a lot of this show - which is incredibly not sad - and feel sad about how my mum never finished it. 

BUT ALSO SHE MIGHT BE OK. for a while. 

i dont know how i feel, blargh. anyway. this was a long post. i think i wrote it mostly for me. feelings are weird. covid really sucks and so does cancer. 

going to order some chicken and watch inuyasha.