#i mean castle in the air was certainly cute!

[stories-of-imagination]

Sometimes, and for seemingly no reason at all, I get irrationally mad we never got a prequel to Howl's Moving Castle.

[anonymous-dentist]

1946

There are plenty of legends surrounding Count Dracula. They say that he bathes in the blood of virgins. He has knives for hands and his fangs are sharp enough to cut the very air itself. He can turn into a bat. He can turn into a mist. He’s over one thousand years old, but he doesn’t look a day over fifty.

This, of course, is all bullshit. Count Dracula isn’t real, and Cellbit isn’t even one hundred yet, and he certainly doesn’t look fifty years old. He has a shower and electricity and a radio. He even has an automobile, not that he uses it for anything but trips to town to beg the werewolves to please stop leaving dead rabbits on his front porch.

Still. Maybe living in the crumbling remains of a long-abandoned castle on a hill surrounded by dead trees and graveyards full of empty tombstones and half-disturbed graves gives a bit of an impression. And maybe Cellbit was a bit dramatic when he was first turned, but who wouldn’t be when faced with immortality for the first time?

Quesadilla Island is no stranger to the supernatural. There are the werewolves in town, there are the demons scattered across the island. There’s the talking skeleton that cries if you look at him weirdly. And then there’s Cellbit, “Count Dracula”, the island’s only living vampire.

Quesadilla Island is no stranger to the supernatural. Vampires are a danger to society, and so it’s up to vampire hunters like those from the Federation to make sure the vampires stay under control and away from the more fragile citizens.

And that’s fine, really. Cellbit hates people, anyway. He likes how they taste, but the artificial blood that Mouse magicks up for him once a week is a good substitute.

He likes his castle, and he likes his alone time, and he likes spending said alone time in the secret room in his basement trying to figure out ways to absolutely slaughter the shit out of every Federation hunter on the island so he can live in peace.

Tonight is one such night. The werewolves are all transformed with the full moon, and Richarlyson is with Felps in the Square for the night, so Cellbit is, thankfully, alone. He can polish his knives in peace.

And then he hears a knock at the door for the first time in half a century.

“Hola?” he hears. “Dracula?”

Cellbit perks up despite his best attempts to play at being annoyed. He knows this voice, it belongs to one of the non-supernatural townsfolk. The cute one he’s only spoken to once, and the one he probably shouldn’t speak to again if his drunken memories are anything to live by.

The vampire hunter.

Cellbit immediately rushes upstairs and pauses in the foyer to fix his hair in a mirror. Unfortunately, he can’t see his reflection. Fuck.

He opens the door, anyway, and he tries not to be too obvious with his smile as he leans against the doorframe just oh so casually.

“Hello!” he cheerfully says. “Good evening!”

He immediately internally smacks himself as the hunter raises both eyebrows. Too obvious.

Cellbit clears his throat and repeats in a much calmer voice, “I mean. Hello. Good evening. I was not expecting you.”

The hunter looks him over, and it occurs to Cellbit that this is the first time that they’ve ever spoken. Ever. Of course, he already knew this, but-

The hunter smiles and makes eye contact. “Can I come in?”

“Uh. Sure?”

The hunter winks, and then he ducks under Cellbit’s arm and enters the castle as Cellbit stands there, frozen. What.

“Nice place.” The hunter whistles. “Is it just you?”

Cellbit stares at him, watching as the hunter flops onto the foyer’s most grandiose sofa and kick his muddy feet up onto the seat. The door closes, but neither pays it any mind.

“Ah,” says Cellbit. “Sometimes. Can I help you?”

The hunter shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He gives Cellbit another once-over, eyes lingering on Cellbit’s neck and chest- uncovered, for once, because his shirt has been left with the top buttons undone, for once, because he was alone just a few minutes ago.

If Cellbit was capable of blushing, he would be doing so. Instead, he buttons his shirt back up and coughs into his fist.

That seems to jolt the hunter back into action because he hops off the sofa as quickly as he had fallen onto it and he smooths down his long red coat and he says, “I want to… ugh, how do I say this?”

He paces a little, hand running through his hair, and then he throws his head back and just kinda blurts it out: “I want to kill Cucurucho.”

He looks at Cellbit, frozen yet again. “Can you help me with that?”

Cucurucho is evil incarnate. It’s also the current head of the vampire hunters of the island, complete with its own personal armory of bullshit tools meant to make Cellbit’s life a living hell: stakes, holy water, blessed weapons. It even has a dagger in the shape of a crucifix, what the fuck?

Cellbit wants it dead. He wants to suck the life out of its unholy abomination of a body and he wants to burn its corpse in the sunlight it holds so dearly. He’s got a thousand potential murders in mind for it, but that’s gotta come off a little strong, right?

So Cellbit shrugs very casually. “Maybe. Why?”

That’s the million-dollar question: why would one of Cucurucho’s own loyal hunters want it dead?

The hunter looks down at the ground briefly before looking back up at Cellbit with absolute nothing in his eyes.

“My son is dead,” he says, very, very calmly. “And so Cucurucho needs to be dead, too. That’s all.”

This is the look of a man already dead.

“Okay,” Cellbit says. He nods, because he, too, is a father. Somehow.

The hunter blinks slowly. “Just like that?”

“What, did you want me to interrogate you some more?”

“I dunno. Aren’t you supposed to hypnotize me or something?”

Cellbit raises an eyebrow. “Do you want me to hypnotize you?”

(He can’t, but the hunters don’t need to know that.)

“I mean… maybe? I don’t know how this works, man!” The hunter throws his arms up and collapses back onto the couch in an annoyed huff. “Maybe you’re just going to eat me, who knows?”

Cellbit delicately takes a seat on the closest chair… which so happens to be the one nearest the hunter’s sofa. What a coincidence.

“You know that I don’t eat people,” he scoffs. Not anymore, anyway…

“I mean, sure, but you’re Count Dracula! You’re weird!”

Cellbit blinks. That’s one way to describe him.

“I’m not Dracula,” he says. “You people do know that, right? Like, you do know that he’s copyrighted material. I couldn’t be him if I wanted to.”

The hunter looks at him incredulously. “No mames, who the fuck are you, then?”

What, so they actually don’t know? What?

“Uh,” says Cellbit, a little caught up in how fucking stupid his tormentors really seem to be. “Cellbit?”

The hunter’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit, I knew I recognized you from somewhere!”

Uh-oh…

Cellbit’s glad that he can’t blush, because he’s got a bad feeling coming on based off of the way the hunter actively scoots down the sofa and towards him, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt.

“I was really drunk, but-” the hunter says. “But! I remembered your name!”

Cellbit swallows a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember yours.”

“That’s fine, you will.”

And that isn’t intimidating at all.

“Because you are the vampire who turned me!”

The hunter pulls back the side of his unbuttoned shirt to show some very sculpted muscles… and two little pinpricks right on his collar still scarring over even three weeks after the fact.

Cellbit’s mouth goes dry. Because maybe he got a little drunk at Forever’s Halloween party three weeks ago, and maybe he hooked up with the most beautiful man on Quesadilla Island for the night. The night is a fuzzy mess at best, and he certainly doesn’t remember turning anyone, but he does remember:

“Roier,” he weakly says. “I am so sorry.”

The hunter- Roier’s- smile is blinding. “Don’t be. Because now there are two vampires on the island, yes? And Cucurucho can’t kill both of us.”

…To Be Continued?

[amjustagirl]

castles in the air: chapter 10 

chapters: one.// two.// three.// four.// five.// six.// seven.// eight.// nine.// ten.// 

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x f! reader  genre: romantic comedy, fluff, angst  wc: 4.8k 

Dating Kuroo Tetsuro is a dream come true. 

You’ve had your romantic fantasies about him, certainly. The messy haired star of your girlish imaginings, your handsome knight in shining armour - but somehow it’s the human side of him that you appreciate the most. Of course it’s wonderful that he’s got a charming smirk and imposing presence that makes you lose all coherent thought in your (usually steady) head, but it’s the dorky, funny, playful side of him that you cherish the most. 

“Why’re you even dating me”, you grumble, when you’re having a particularly rough day at school and feel like a mess - greasy hair, eye bags, warts and all, and he’s looking effortlessly put-together, despite being put through the grinder like you. 

“Why do I love thee? Let me count the ways - “ 

“You got the quote wrong, please stop trying to lift pick up lines from Akaashi, you torture him enough for that -” 

“Cos you’re cute, princess - “ 

“Liar - and you’re an asshole if that’s all you’re dating me for - ”

“My heart burns like a mole of suns for you - “

“I take it back, I think I prefer your cheesy literary puns -” 

You get kicked out of the library for the first time in your life because Kuroo’s bark of laughter is far too loud to ignore. He’s an idiot, but he’s your idiot, so you give up and host study sessions at your place instead. ‘

Yua certainly approves of him. 

She grins when he stays over one night after a project meeting that goes on for too long, cheerfully leaving a packet of condoms and a note that she’ll be sleeping with earplugs that night on the dining table. Kuroo turns fire-engine red and does not meet your eyes. 

“Yua!” you hiss, shoving her package back at her. “Keep it for Meian, I don’t need it!”

“I bought a jumbo pack and was worried about using them all before the expiry date, y’know - cos Shugo is in Osaka and I'm sooo lonely - “ 

“Gods, woman if this is a ploy to distract me into taking them, this is not working.”

“I saved so much on shipping costs you might as well have some!” 

You end up keeping the lot, even though Kuroo and you can hardly look at each other for the rest of the night, awkwardly keeping to your respective corner of your very narrow single bed. Yua doesn’t let up in the morning either. She pouts at you until you agree to fry pancakes for her, and takes the opportunity while Kuroo is showering to ask if she should threaten him should he do you any harm. 

"I'm perfectly capable of cutting his balls off myself. Yua. Plus you're about as scary as a kitten, so I don't think you'd be of much help."

"True", she taps her chin thoughtfully. Then she brightens up. "I could send Shugo after him!" 

"Oh my god, Yua, you can't sic your boyfriend on my boyfriend", you say, horrified. "That's not how this works, he's not even my dad -" not that your mild mannered dad would ever exhibit any protective, bloody thirsty behavior towards any of your suitors anyway, but that's besides the point. 

"Why not?" Yua asks innocently. You know her well enough that she's actually serious about it. 

"I mean you don't deserve to have your heart broken! You're good and funny and you make the best pancakes -" 

"This is definitely a ploy to keep getting pancakes out of me -" 

She giggles. "Well, yes but I want him to know that he's lucky to have you and should throw himself out of a window if he hurts you in anyway -" 

"You're surprisingly violent, does Shuugo know what he's getting himself into -" 

Arms circle your waist. "I'd throw myself out of the window if I broke her heart, you don't need to exert yourself."

You whirl around to poke Kuroo on the nose, frowning. "Stop eavesdropping -" 

He only laughs, booping your nose with his own. "The bathroom walls are thin, yknow." Then he glances at Yua, who's gleefully watching the pair of you. "Message received loud and clear", he says to her. "I know I'm lucky to have her." 

"I'm glad to hear it", she chirps. "Now, we should all go on a double date! Maybe a fall picnic, when Shugo is in Tokyo - that'd be super romantic, maybe Shugo will finally propose to me then -" 

You just sigh and roll your eyes at her antics, dishing out pancakes to feed both your hungry roommate and boyfriend. You regret ever feeding them when they get along like a house on fire, trading stories back and forth about you. 

Meeting the Nekoma team (again) is a goldmine for you, as meeting Yua was for Kuroo. 

But before that, you’re not surprised that Kuroo asks you if you’d like to meet Kenma for coffee and apple pie at a small cafe they both frequent every Saturday afternoon before spending the rest of the day holed up in one of their bedrooms, Kuroo studying or reading his manga, Kenma playing or streaming games. You've heard so much about him, and despite Kuroo describing him as a gremlin-slash-cat in human form, the warmth in his voice when he talks about him tells you he’s very important to your boyfriend. 

On first impression, he’s very different from your own boyfriend. In fact, the quiet, mild mannered boy reminds you a little of another dark haired boy with watchful eyes of your acquaintance. 

"We meet once a month for coffee", he replies when you ask if he too knows Akaashi. 

Kuroo chokes on his cappuccino, the milk froth shooting straight up his nose. Kenma bangs on his back with gusto. "Is that how you've been gossiping about me? I didn't even know you guys talked outside of camps! What else have you been keeping from me? I swear - you're like one of those cats who cheat on their family with another just to get extra food -" 

You and Kenma share an exasperated look as Kuroo complains about being left out of their setter friendship. 

“You were busy with Bokuto and Tsukkishima - ”

“Never too busy for you - “

“Says you -” 

“Wait a minute - Akaashi was playing with us, how could he have been chatting with you?!”

“Maybe you were playing with a clone.”

You sit back comfortably, watching them bicker back and forth. Now you see that Kuroo’s propensity for childish banter was cultivated by his best friend. It swiftly devolves into a scuffle when Kuroo reaches over to ruffle Kenma’s hair to emphasise a point, and Kenma retaliates with a move quicker than he looks capable off, swatting Kuroo away with a used napkin. 

“Gross!” 

“You started it.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the two boys turning to you - your boyfriend looking sheepish, Kenma impassive. “I’m not asking for much”, you say. “Merely that we don’t get kicked out of yet another public space for unruly behaviour.” 

“Didn’t you stab Kuroo with a fork when you first met him”, Kenma calmly notes. “The team laughed about that by the way.”

“ - he deserved it”, you chuckle, as Kuroo folds his arms, pretending his best to look upset. 

“She’s violently overprotective when it comes to her food - and oi! You weren’t supposed to tell the rest that! Yaku crowed for weeks!”

“Well deserved, indeed.”

You and Kenma glance at each other and smile. Kuroo stares at you both and frowns. “Oh no”, he cries, hand to heart. You and Kenma share exasperated looks at the antics of this over-dramatic fool. 

“What”, you say in unison. 

Kuroo’s face falls further. “You two getting along so well is a nightmare. You’re gonna plot and suffocate me in my sleep -” 

“He snores by the way”, Kenma says, nodding sympathetically. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“I know”, you acknowledge his nod with a tilt of your head. “It’s too late for me, I’m afraid.” 

“The two of you are just evil, I swear - ” 

The rest of the team give him even less respect but just as much affectionate teasing when you’re introduced to them. Of course, it doesn’t help that your idiot boyfriend forgot that he had a scheduled call with them, answering the video call absentmindedly when he was busy kissing a path down your neck. It also doesn’t help that the entire team is shocked into silence when they see their captain with a girl on his lap, never mind that you’re just making out like teenagers are wont to do. 

Lev, you learn later, is the one who breaks the silence. 

“Is...is that a hologram?” 

You promptly yelp and fall off the chair. Kuroo stares bug eyed at his laptop but makes no move to turn it off. 

“I don’t think holograms are that realistic, it can’t be. She’s….real”, Inuoka answers, looking shell shocked.

Yaku just groans as Kai looks triumphant. “Damnit, now I’m out 1000 yen, seriously -”  

The fact that his teammates bet on his lovelife is what kickstarts Kuroo’s engines. “Seriously?!” he half shouts at the screen, turning an alarmingly deep shade of red. “1000 yen?! Kai, you gotta give me a share of that bet - I helped you win that.” 

“Tetsuro!” you scold, as the rest of the guys burst into laughter.  

“C’mon, that’s enough to pay for a bowl of gyudon at Sukiya, I’m a broke university student - ” 

That initial encounter makes it just a touch awkward when he finally brings you to meet his team. It’s difficult enough for any outsider to be brought into a tight knit circle, and inside jokes and years of nostalgia and friendships forged to navigate, but you try for Kuroo, fussing about your clothes (a rare occurrence that’s smoothened with Yua’s help), smiling and nodding and trying your best to be a girlfriend he can be proud of. 

But they’re welcoming, if a little shocked that anyone in their right mind is willing to give their captain a chance in the romance department. 

“You’re really, really pretty”, Yamamoto tells you to your face when you say hi to him. 

“I apologise on behalf of him. He hasn’t been socialised enough to talk to girls  who aren’t his sister”, Kai gently reaches to shut Yamamoto’s open jaw. “He says that to every girl he meets - ”

“Play dating sims, that’s what I’ve told him, but he doesn’t listen.” 

Lev guffaws, as Inuoka stifles a smile. “No wonder Yamamoto doesn’t have a girlfriend. Hey! We should start a bet on him next - “

“Lev, you asshole! How ‘bout we bet that I punch you in the next five seconds - “

The waitress looks over at the increasingly rowdy table with nervous eyes. Shibayama and Teshiro try their best to pull Yamamoto back, but those squats and deadlifts (and a pro-athlete’s training) has done Yamamoto’s raw strength some good. Fukunaga cocks his head. 

“Mr. Freeze says - “

Kuroo looks horrified. Kai too. Kenma wisely stays out of the way. 

“Fukunaga, where did you even find a bucket in the restaurant - NO YOU PUT THAT DOWN NOW - ” 

You laugh, entertained by their antics as Kuroo and Kai corral them into some semblance of order, Shibayama and Teshiro being slotted in to separate Yamamoto and Lev, Kenma snorting softly by the side. “They’re always like this”, Kenma says softly to you. You somehow suspect he means it (somewhat as a compliment). 

“I’m glad he has you guys as his friends”, you say quietly to Kenma, when Kuroo ducks away ostensibly to the toilet, but you suspect he’s stealing off to pay the bill. Kai will insist on splitting it, you suspect, and it’s a toss up who will win. “Good, real friends are hard to come by, and I’m glad he has that.” 

It’s awfully maudlin of you, and you regret saying it when the chatter around you dies down and the boys all stare bug eyed at you. 

You shrink back in your seat. “Um - sorry, was that too forward of me?”

Kenma begins to shake his head, but you’re startled by Yamamoto, who grabs your hand with tears in his eyes. “You’re so niceeeeee!” he wails, as Inuoka tries to shush him to no avail. Shibayama eyes the waitress nervously while Teshiro just sighs. Fukunaga’s fingers inch towards the red bucket sitting ominously next to him. 

“Um - “ you blink, unsure how to respond. 

“Kuroo senpai is our friend?” 

“Oh my god, Lev - you’re an idiot, yes we’re friends - ”

Kai pats your hand with a warm, reassuring smile. “Welcome to the circus”, he says, eyes twinkling. “I’m sorry for the chaos, but we’re very glad to have you too.” 

“Yamamoto would definitely be the head clown - “ 

“I wanna be the ringmaster or lion tamer!” 

The debate rages on. Kuroo doesn’t even look confused when he returns to the table, bill in hand as you expected, despite his team being engaged in a debate on the roles they’d have in their imaginary circus. 

“I’m the magician, of course - Yakkun should be on the trapeze, he’s small enough - “

“I’m telling him you said that -” 

“He should be glad I didn’t cast him as the dwarf - ”

You shake your head at their antics. The waitress does come over to shoo them out, claiming that there are customers waiting for a seat though there clearly aren’t, but the boys aren’t phased, trooping over to a nearby combini to grab ice cream before piling outside to sit on the curb, by the quiet road. Kuroo comes over, leans his chin on top of your head, dodging without looking when you swat at him.

“Having fun?” 

You steal a lick of his ice cream. He doesn’t complain. 

“They’re nice”, you say, looking over at Kenma scowling in mock disgust as Yamamoto and Lev challenge each other to see who can finish three popsicles the fastest, Fukunaga acting as a makeshift referee. “They’re funny, and a little mad but I like them.” 

Kuroo smiles into your hair. “I’m glad”, he murmurs. “I was worried their antics might drive you away.” 

“You’re the worst of them”, you reply, laughing. “If I can put up with you, I definitely can put up with them.” 

“I resent that, sweetheart”, he smirks, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. “Though I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Oi! No PDA-ing, it makes the rest of us single folk here feel sad and lonely.” 

“Only you, Yamamoto”, Kenma snorts. “Only you.” 

Yamamoto wails again, for the second time of the night. “Kyannnnmaaaaa!”

Meeting your respective families is a little more complicated. 

His grandparents, unsurprisingly, love you. To be more exact, as Kuroo tells it, lying head in your lap, a soft smile that you feel rather than see against the soft plush of your thighs, they’ve loved you ever since you introduced yourself to them at the first match in his freshman year. You suppose you’ve bought their affection with beef jerky and your evident care for their only grandson, but they make a fuss over you, forcing you to take home as much leftovers as Kuroo when you visit them on the weekends. 

“They love you”, Kuroo says simply, when you ask him why. “How could they not?”

You don’t really have an answer to that, so you try to make yourself worthy of their love. Kuroo’s already a filial grandson, bringing them food, accompanying them on their weekend grocery runs, and while you hesitate to join them initially, they look so pleased when you meekly ask if you can come along that you slot yourself right into their routine. 

“At least that way I’m not third-wheeling”, Kuroo laughs, as his grandparents link hands and hobble on ahead, looking absolutely adorable in their matching canes that they actually don’t need, but a little walking aid calms their family’s fear of a potential fall.

“Glad to know that’s all I’m here for”, you tease, but you link your pinky in his, following behind his grandparents to head back home. 

Indulgent grandparents aside, your respective sets of parents are a little less easily handled. 

Your dad, fussy school teacher that he is, is the easiest to please. It helps that he’s mild mannered and easily bribed with a bottle of good sake, alleviating your fears that he might turn his nose up Kuroo’s hair. You didn’t even have to whip out the story that you’ve prepared that the barbers in the vicinity have declared his hair untameable, and it’s completely natural. 

Your mother, on the other hand, is cordial to him, but she doesn't warm up to him as you expected. Nothing seems to sway her, neither gifts nor offers to help clear the dishes seem to earn her approval. Though she doesn't explicitly say anything bad about Kuroo, her lack of tacit acceptance rankles.

You take her aside one evening after a dinner she spends uncharacteristically quiet despite Kuroo trying his best to draw her out. 

"Do you not like Tetsuro for some reason, mom?" You've never known her to be anything less than supportive of your choices, so you don't understand her reticence towards your boyfriend. 

She denies it, of course - but after citing examples too numerous for her to brush away, she takes your hand and admits that she's just worried for you. 

"Tetsuro's a good person" you say, unable to see exactly what she's worrying about. 

“I’m sure he is”, she says, with a touch of unease. 

“But….?” you prompt her. She pokes her head out of your room to check that your father is still in the kitchen savouring a warm glass of sake. 

“"You've always had dreams, ever since you were a little girl. You weren’t just satisfied with stories of princesses being rescued. You always asked me why they didn’t do more for themselves. And I can still see that little girl in you now with your dreams of chasing both a career and having a family of your own.”

“What’s that got to do with Tetsuro?” 

“Relationships require sacrifice”, she begins. “It’s nothing personal. I just hope he’s someone who’ll support you in everything you want to achieve.” 

“He will”, you say with certainty. 

“I hope so”, she replies. “But then again, we’ll never know. Being a wife, a mother, a woman with a career - that’s going to be extremely difficult, and sometimes you may end up making compromises you never dreamed of.”

You’ve never thought about your mother, your father, their choices in too great detail. You’ve considered if your mother regrets the path she’s taken in life, staying home to be with you and your little brother in lieu of a career of her own. 

“Do you regret it?” 

Your mother reads the thrust of your question, doesn’t need to ask what it means. “My choices are my own, darling. My feelings towards them - I don’t want to influence your choices, because it’s your life to lead.”

You look at her quizzically. She takes it as her cue to continue. 

“I just want you to be happy. That’s what every parent wants for their child. I just want you to be supported when you make your choices, and I hope Kuroo-kun will support you in whatever you do.” 

It’s perplexing that she doesn’t see Kuroo the way you do - the way he beams with pride when you ace another test, friendly competition aside, the way he boasts about you to his grandparents, his friends, even though you tell him to stop. He’s your most ardent supporter, and you know it - you trust him. 

“My dad’s like that too.” 

It’s a quiet winter day when he admits this to you. You finally find the words to spill your confusion about your mother’s doubts about him when the snow is hard on the ground, and he’s tucked against your side, warm and pliant like a cat, taking a break from endless revision. Yua’s out, busying herself with some clinical psych trials that she’s enthusiastic about (but truth be told, you have no idea what she’s talking about when she explains them to you) so you have the apartment to yourself. 

“He doesn’t like me?” 

“It’s not like that��, Kuroo hastens to assure you, mouth twisting. “It’s just - the divorce was hard on him.” It was hard on Kuroo too - you know from the halting way he describes his relationship or lack thereof with his mum that his parents’ divorce has shaped the way he’s viewed marriage and romantic relationships in general. You know from his aversion to fights and loud arguments that the lonely, confused little boy from his childhood still exists, buried deep in his psyche. 

“We won’t be like that”, you say, quiet. “We’ll figure things out together.” 

He leans back heavily on the sofa, eyes pensive. “If I ever had kids, I can’t - I won’t put them through that.”

“If we had kids together”, you say firmly. “We’ll do better for them.” 

Never mind that you’ve never discussed the prospect of marriage together before, let alone kids. You’re so young, both of you are so young, and there’s still so much for you to do before you even think  about it. But you’ve certainly dreamed of it - with Tetsuro, dreamed of children with his laughing eyes and dark, rumpled hair, dreamed of coming home every day to him. 

“How can you be so sure of that?” 

He doesn’t look at you, gaze carefully blank, but there’s a catch in his voice that makes you so badly want to reach back two decades into the past, take his child self into your arms and give him a warm, tight hug. You imagine him, hair rumpled from burying his face in pillows, trying to drown out the angry sound of his parents arguing, the desolation when his mother leaves him, the realisation that he’s not like other kids, being brought up by his grandparents, his dad too busy with work most of the time. 

“As long as we try our best, I know we’ll be fine. Life isn’t a fairytale - but - and I know this is a cliché, but if we support each other, and if we love each other, we’ll work things out. I’ll never - I won’t put my - our children through that either. I won’t, I swear I won’t. ”

“Promise?” he asks, catching your hand in his, grip tight. 

“I promise”, you reply, bringing your entwined hands to your lips, sealing your words with a kiss. 

The rest of your university years pass uneventfully, if sustained happiness can be described as that. 

Yua moves out at the end of your third year, having completed her masters course at Waseda. She gets her long awaited proposal, Meian dropping onto one knee at the celebratory dinner you threw for her, surprising her both with an impromptu visit and a velvet box. 

“Yes!” she shrieks, loud enough to deafen the entire restaurant. 

She moves back to Osaka to finally be with the love of her life, and though you miss her dearly, you think it’s a very good thing that you’re not physically around to witness her ramblings and breakdowns about wedding menus and napkins and awful florists who don’t know how to be professional. Meian is more than welcome to handle her in this state. 

Kuroo takes her place, and you spend the last year of university staying with him. He isn’t too bad to live with, does most of the chores with minimal complaint and makes really decent sandwiches. Minor quibbles about toilet cleaning schedules aside, it’s been smooth sailing, and you can imagine this - living together everyday in a little home with him. 

The final year of university passes swiftly, most of it with you buried in books, nervously attending interviews with prospective employers, and it ends with top grades and a firm job offer in hand. Kuroo, too, places second, just behind you (which he’s proud of, as he should be), a job with a top marketing firm though he dreams of parlaying his marketing work experience into a full time role with the Japanese Volleyball Association - but that’s to come. 

Both of you attend graduation hand in hand. He’s beside you when you toss your graduation cap high into the air, and his hand is in yours as you walk out of the campus for the last time in a flurry of white and pink petals. Your families have planned a joint graduation celebration for you at Fukunaga’s aunt’s diner, with the rest of your friends in tow (the Nekoma team have promised to show up, even Yaku via zoom despite the time difference), but instead of heading back to the apartment to get ready, he tugs you to Toyama Park, where you used to greet the sun together, meandering through flowering sakura trees to the seven eleven where he dashed in, your very own knight in shining armour. 

“Are you being a sentimental old man again?” you tease, as he insists on buying you ice cream, never mind the disaster if you spill it all over your graduation robes. 

“Always, when it comes to you”, he laughs, gallantly tucking a napkin over your lap. 

You, his teammates, his friends, his grandparents - he’s a sentimental old soul in a young body, and that’s just another quirk that you’ve learnt to love about him. 

The afternoon sun is warm on your cheeks, melting the ice cream until it’s a sticky mess in your fingers, and he clucks playfully, wiping your palms down with the packet of wet tissues that he always carts around, courtesy of his grandmother’s nagging. You let him, smiling fondly as he lifts each finger to check their cleanliness, before tucking the used tissue neatly into his pocket. 

“Shouldn’t we be getting home to get ready for tonight?” 

“Let’s sit here a little while longer”, he says. A breezle ripples through his hair, sunlight shimmering gold in his eyes. You want to accede to his request, but the demands of life start to tug at you, worry you. 

“For what?”

“Tsk”, he chides you gently, thumb rubbing affection circles against your wrist. “Impatient as always.” 

You shake your head, climbing to your feet. “We have things to do, Tetsuro…” 

His hand is still in yours as he smiles up at you, sunshine spilling through the leaves, highlighting the gold ring that’s suddenly appeared in his other hand. 

Your heart skips a beat. 

“I wanted to ask you out here, y’know”, he says conversationally. “All those years ago, I dreamed about it, thinking it’d be romantic to ask you to be my girlfriend one summer evening, whilst the wisteria tree was in its full, violet bloom. Fate clearly had a different plan, or well - Akaashi and Kenma threw a very welcome spanner in the works by interfering, but I think now would be a good time to try and fulfil that old dream. Or a new dream, should I say?”

“What - ?” your voice breaks, voice shaking. You’re hopeless. You’re already tearing up. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ve got plenty of dreams, and I’d like to make them come true, if you’d help me, princess.”  

You play along. “Like what?” 

“I’ve been dreaming of marrying you for some time”, he murmurs, his smile endearingly shy. He gulps, ears tinted pink but you sit back down next to him, wipe your tears away, nudging him gently to carry on. “I dream of working hard at our jobs, buying a home together with you - our castle for us to raise our kids, a cosy, warm, happy place for us to come home to at the end of every day, read fairytales to our little monsters and tuck them into bed every night.” 

You take the ring from his hand, slip it onto your fourth finger. It catches the light when you lift it to the sun, a soft glimmer of gold. 

“It’s funny how our dreams are the same”, you reply, your heart threatening to leap right out of your chest, impatient to start the next leg of the journey with your chosen companion for life. 

“Yeah?”, he asks, his smile impossibly tender, impossibly sweet. “Imagine the odds.” 

“Yeah”, you reply, the rest of your words lost when he leans over, steals your breath with a jubilant kiss.  

You are horrendously late to your own graduation dinner, but your tardiness is forgiven immediately when everyone catches sight of the flash of gold on your ring finger. Yua shrieks, jumping on you like a deranged limpet, his grandparents crying with joy. Even his father and your mother congratulate you, despite their earlier misgivings, and the entire evening is spent celebrating with too much food and you are just so drunk on love and happiness that your heart could burst.

There is so much ahead of you. A long road with many ups and downs, countless obstacles and bumps, but you’re not afraid. You welcome what’s to come as long as Kuroo Tetsuro is by your side, sharing your dreams about castles that reach from the ground all the way into the sky.  

m.list.~ taglist.~

a/n: and...we’ve finally reached the end of the longest fic i’ve ever written! sequel to this fic can be found here (a look into their married life), and...i really hope you enjoyed it. thank you for giving this fic a chance. 

[schneesisterss]

Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!

thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:

Daniela:

ADD/ADHD representation

stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing

and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day

Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”

followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)

hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control

especially when she gets excited

Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice

“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”

“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”

she loves play-fighting with her sisters

Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit

(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)

has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray

and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations

so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea

tactile learner

will just. touch things

“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”

can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her

this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end

her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”

“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.

“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”

Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”

and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.

Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”

Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.

Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.

“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.

The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.

(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)

personal space? never heard of her.

loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.

will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”

Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*

Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*

(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains adamantly but never once moves to get her off)

Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”

Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”

Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”

it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.

Very Very Scary when mad

turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with

dangerous and violent

much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality

came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.

(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)

when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.

Insane Laugh™️

thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw

she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)

that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER

Bela:

Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl

needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother

INSOMNIAC

this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest

she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)

she has read almost every single book in their giant library

Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all

“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”

because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things

Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”

Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.

Dani, confused as fuck: ....

Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”

Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google

“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”

“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”

“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”

“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”

“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”

she is so quiet

and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves

just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach

even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something

Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....

Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”

refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task

Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.

(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)

Anxiety™️

sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.

overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist

this makes her prone to panic attacks :(

when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters

Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.

how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?

Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.

she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.

a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.

“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.

the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.

large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”

Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”

Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.

“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.

Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”

“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”

“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.

Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”

She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.

(am I projecting again? idk help)

can play the piano

no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano

this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel

she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly

she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf

while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.

“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”

Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”

and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.

*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!! 

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan 

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus 

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub 

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile. 

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone. 

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔

Belphegor 

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers? 

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

[wildflowertips]

Hi! I was curious if you had anymore Kuroko fic recommendations? Thank you! 🥺💗

hey! 🥺 i do have more kuroko fanfic recs. i didnt know what type of kuroko ship you wanted, so here are a few from some kuroko ships <3:

Kagakuro Recommendations

the flower that blooms in adversity by aotetsu

When Kagami falls for Kuroko Tetsuya, a famous prostitute from the red light district, he manages to find a whole lot of trouble and a person worth it all.

this fic deserves more love and attention. kagami love for kuroko absolutely made me sob

Brothers in Woo by buttwade

in which Himuro jokingly offers to help Kagami win Kuroko over and the joke's on him

kagami is drunk & himuro cracks jokes. this fic is funny. jealous!kuroko

Beastly call by TCon

"You mean," Kuroko started. "You'd be my Heat Partner?" He didn't expect Kagami to explode into a myriad of different shades of red more impressive than his own hair. "Y — yeah tha's what I'm sayin'!" for some reasons he lapsed into english with an odd accent. KagaKuro Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics & Sex Pistols AU - Fusion

Lots of smut in the beginning. there’s crime, suspense, and i read this fic like 5 times.

Stamina Training by tnsxbunny

As the weakest member in the team, Kuroko stays back after basketball practice to train on his stamina. Kagami watches from afar and decides to show Kuroko what real stamina training is.

SMUT. SUCH GOOD SMUT. thank u

The advantage of being Kuroko by heartfilledteddybear

mayuzumi hits on Kuroko & Kagami gets jealous 🥵

Akakuro Recommendations

Forget me not flowers in our hair by miniaturepsycho

When Kagami is captured by a beast Kuroko doesn't think twice and bargains to take the red head's position instead but it seems that there is more to this castle than meets the eye, and what has it have to do with forget me not's?? Basically a beauty and the beast AU that I decided to do after seeing the live action (which I totally did not cry at, not at all!!) COMPLETE

Contains Aokaga. Akashi as beast & kuroko as belle. So good 🥺

All I ask by TsuruKuni

"It's none of your business." "Tell me, Aomine. How can it be none of my business when you're throwing away the only person I've ever wanted?"

THIS FIC MADE ME SOB AT 3 AM. I highly recommend listening to ‘All I ask’ by Adele. I promise you will cry. Aokuro & Akakuro.

Bridezilla by DancingMarshmallows

Weddings are stressful... try helping people plan them. With two months to get everything together, a bridezilla and her bitch of a maid of honor, and finding love at the worst time, Kuroko would be lucky if he makes it out alive.

CEO!Akashi & WEDDING PLANNER!kuroko. you will not regret reading this one.

That Ridiculously Long Dance by Harmonia_Silverberg

Aomine, Kise, and Kagami never learn, do they? But apparently their "joke" works in Akashi and Kuroko's favor this time.

literally one of my all time favorite akakuro fanfic

What Would Chihiro Do by anewtinystory

Akashi is dating Kuroko, whose two brothers are very protective of him.[Based on a Tumblr anon's prompt: Nijimura and Mayuzumi are Kuroko's brothers; while Nijimura approves of Akashi, Mayuzumi feels the opposite]

slight smut. protective bros. i love it sm.

Aokuro Recommendations

Traded Mistakes by Acetate, Chrystie, exuberant_imperfection, kate882, luckypen

For the prompt: Aomine having an accident and losing his memory so all he remembers is being best friends with Tetsu and he doesn’t understand how that could stop.

Angst, oh the angst 😫😭.

Third time’s a charm (or maybe fourth) by LajtHane

Aomine really didn't mean to crash into him at Quidditch practice.

HOGWARTS AU. if that doesn’t temp you, idk what will. My fav Aokuro fic.

Maybe a touch of your hand by skinandbones

[Written for AoKuroWeek 2015]: Aomine moves into a new apartment and befriends a ghost boy.

no bc this fic made me cry too. pls read it 🎶ifwehad5moreminutes🎶

The Boyfriend Jersey by exuberant_imperfection, kate882

Kuroko, in a half-asleep mistake, ends up wearing Aomine's jersey to school.

THIS FIC IS CUTE SUCH DORKS

Hey, Come Here Often? by imabignerd

In which Momoi holds his magazines hostage, Aomine hates everything and everyone, and Kuroko is politely bewildered.

Aomine crushes on the lifeguard!Kuroko & Momoi is a little shit about it 😌🤍

Midokuro Recommendations

It’s Always your Fault! by warsandwich

Kuroko and Midorima are secretly dating, but Takao finds out their secret. De-anon from the anon meme.

Short, sweet, & funny 😌.

Partnership by Fayah

Their partnership starts in English class, but like everything else in their lives, turns into a matter of basketball.

Midorima really cares for Kuroko 🥺

Midokuro Ficlet by pandacchii

based off of imagineyourotp blog post: "Imagine your otp confessing while they were half asleep" Pairing: Midorima/Kuroko

short story but it’s really cute ☺️

An Unexpected Alignment by cinnaelle

Midorima Shintarou does not expect such a reoccurring encounter. But the wheels of fate are turning and Akashi moves his shogi piece.

well-written i love it sm. deserves more praise

The Way You Come Undone by oshare_banchou

"Midorima Shintarou is completely silent during sex. And Kuroko, who is both fascinated and frustrated by this discovery, wonders just how much it would take to make him come undone." - Kuroko/Midorima, in that order

do i need to say more? 😫

Kikuro Recommendations

Careless Whisper by DarkWoods

When Kuroko is dared to come up with some dirty talk, no one expects him to be good at it. Certainly not Kise.

my favorite kikuro fanfic. flustered!kise & tease!kuroko

如果的事 (If) by stormterror

People fall in love in many different manners. Love feels like many different things to many people, but Kise Ryouta thinks there's nothing that quite beats the feeling of being in love with Kuroko Tetsuya. [kise/kuroko]

SO GOOD I CRIED I SMILED SO HARD. pls kikuro deserves the world

Wires, Connecting by Bakagami

It's like being blind but not, like touching air, grasping at straws, voices dissipating and reverberating.

This story is locked so you need to login into ao3 to read it. PHONE SEX & DIRTY TALK 🥵

He Promised by imabignerd

Kise promised he'd smile for Kuroko the whole way through, all the way to the end.

Zombie apocalypse AU. Death. sobbing violently.

It’s a Small World by SilentSilhouette

Kise tries to find his soulmate through social media. Soulmate AU where a picture of your soulmate is tweeted to you on your sixteenth birthday.

This one made me crackle & laugh😂😂

Murakuro Recommendations

No Such Thing as Too Much Vanilla by plumtrees

Kuroko and Murasakibara have baking days. What do you mean it isn't canon?

baking!boyfriends & fluff 😌😉

Vanilla Cream by yoimrei

Murasakibara eats Kurokos ass after something Ahomine says which sparks his jealousy.

here me out first, the ass eating in this is *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏽🤌🏽

Philia by DarkWoods

That time Murasakibara and Kuroko started kinda-sorta fake dating, and kinda-sorta never bothered to break up.

Still going & i love this writer sm. i read all their stories 😙✌🏽

Lavender Secrets by SailorHikarinoMu

Kuroko was the one to bring out his true love for basketball, which had been hidden from prying eyes since the beginning. It was one of those things he was unsure whether he should feel grateful for, but all the same, it did mean something. What this 'something' was, exactly? Murasakibara did not know. Not yet.

FLUFF AAA FLUFF

Rainy by overdose

Kuroko listened to the rain pouring, and more importantly, Murasakibara's steady breathing.

smut. couch sex. size difference. 🥴

BONUS

Hanamiya Makoto/Kuroko Tetsuya

Scotomas by Darkenedcrystal

After the game against Jabberwock, Kagami goes overseas and Kuroko finds himself without a light. A slightly angsty, rather light-hearted story about what happens to Kuroko after Kagami leaves. Features teens finding their way around life, Seirin without a light, the Generation of Miracles being a family, the teens finding love and appreciating the heartbreaks. Kuroko tries to find his own style without a light, and stumbles into the darkness that is Hanamiya Makoto instead. Extra chapter added!

love this fic so much. downside: akashi is kinda a dick

Of Unlikely Friendships, Sneaky Bets, Shogi and Sake by itsthechocopuff

Imayoshi had introduced his two favourite kouhai to each other as an experiment. He did not predict they'd get along so well, both being shadows, but they did, and they worked, oddly enough. Hanamiya brought out the worst in Kuroko, while Kuroko brought out the the best in the other; and they both caused heartattacks to unsuspecting teammates who could not believe their darling shadow was not as innocent as he seemed.

you wont regret reading this one omg

Haizaki Shougo/Kuroko Tetsuya

A Taste That Lingers by therealmoyashi

I couldn't say anything, and that was alright because he didn't want an answer. I'll never forget the way that tasted. Yeah, I thought, he ruined me.

i cried reading this for the first time. out of character kuroko

By the Tomatoes by Wayfarer_Rye

It starts with a blue-grey t-shirt that says "Nothing but Net".

Haizaki wants to try again.

[akumaalert]

not a request just sharing bc i couldn't stop thinking of just "what if lucky called heis good boy" like how he calls her good girl sometimes but like.. i'm pretty sure he would break

This was supposed to be a mini-fic....but...uh....it'll likely be the first chapter of "Divergence" instead LMAO But hope you enjoy!

Good Boy

Karl Heisenberg x Reader, Explicit

CW: Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Voyeurism, Happy Ending, Virgin!Karl Heisenberg

An AU happening during chapter 19 of "Heavy Metal Lover" but can be read without reading the main story.

"Unfh..."

That had been the first noise from Lucky besides the scratch of a pencil against paper that he had heard in about an hour.

Stuck in his office with her as he searched for a misplaced - not lost, just misplaced! - core schematic, Heisenberg tried to ignore the nagging thought of how domestic the space had become. Lucky never moved his things - something he was infinitely grateful for. He could recall too well his ever boiling frustration at having his room "cleaned" when living in the castle. The maids were well-meaning, but always adjusting. The room he had held would have felt more his own had he been able to move his own furniture around without the chambermaids fawning over him.

"No, no, young Lord Heisenberg! This is all wrong...off you go...go play...we will fix this mess."

Now on his own and in his element of chaos, he felt comforted, even if secretly so, that Lucky never seemed to complain.

Comforted...but cautious.

The day at the stronghold seemed stamped into his memory...right in the front for all to see. It remained a wonder Lucky didn't see it on his face.

The knowledge.

The horrible, horrible knowledge.

Love.

Staring at an old newspaper clip-out that he had saved with a picture of a modern car on its faded pages, he absently pushed the glasses back up his nose.

It tired him - the constant need to flip back and forth between acknowledging his feelings and thrusting them as far down as he could manage. Drowning them out with that beautiful sound of cinching machinery. Allowing them to seep into him with every laugh from her lips.

Heisenberg was starting to fall in love with the woman. The woman he had failed to kill - the lucky one to survive his maze. The woman his mother expected him to impregnate in order for Miranda's mad vessel to be born and to be killed all in the name of misery.

Misery otherwise known as Eva.

Slowly but certainly, Lucky was driving him insane. Reminding him of things he could never, ever have. Teasing him over and over for days on end.

Heisenberg remembered all too well his reason for entering the office. He had nearly sliced his own arm clean off his shoulder when he lost himself to his situation. To the possibility that, despite his body being so ill-suited for the task, Lucky could have his child. Would want his child. His thoughts, as they so often did, snapped back to the need for freedom - for the need for the arms to come loose from his latest corpse to transform them into one of his many soldiers.

But the more he thought of freedom, the more she sat in the background of his mind.

The more she sat there, the more his tired musings began to stitch together.

The more freedom and Lucky - the two dreams of his world - became intertwined.

He had been thinking of her - of Lucky - beside him the day that he won freedom from the village.

Won freedom...and her.

"You did it, Heis! You did it!"

Lucky would never know how dear it was to him...the fact that her emotions ran so freely with her very being. Beaming. She would do nothing less than beam at him. Her eyes would glow and crinkle at their tails as they did when she gave him her most genuine smiles.

"You did it. You're free. Our...our family is free."

"...family?"

She would grab his hand. Just one. He needed the other steady on her cheek.

Lucky would bring that hand clasped in her own to her belly.

"Our family..."

"Our...another...another Heisenberg?"

In his dreams, she shyly escaped his gaze to nod.

"You...you haven't been alone. Not with me. Not with the start of our family. But now...now, Heis..." Her eyes popped back up all soft and sincere. "Now you'll never be alone again. Not with our baby Heisenberg on the way..."

The only break from his reverie was the slice to one of his favorite stained t-shirts. Only the fact that it was Heisenberg's powers directing the saw had it falling to the floor instead of through his tensed skin.

Heisenberg could only stand in shocked silence. The arm that had been spared from the violence came to grab his shoulder. Though no injury had occurred, he felt stabbed all the same.

Family...and joy?

Lucky...with him?

Another Heisenberg...alive?

A thought washed over him like ice entering his veins.

A boy or a girl...would we have a boy or a girl first?

First.

As if Lucky wished to be objected to more of his perverted and preposterous daydreams.

When he left the room, the metal was still shaking.

"Gotta get that fucking schematic...keep forgetting it...keep going to the office and...fuck...keep talking to her. Gotta stop fucking talking to her. Schematic. Get the fucking schematic."

Lucky had been asleep in bed when he first entered. A rushing relief to his soul. But as the search for the schematic went from flipping through one file to frantically reshuffling the wayward stack the paper should have been in, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would appear.

"Oh...ah!" Lucky yawned all cute and squeaky. "Good morning, Heis."

"Morning," he said flatly. "You...you move any of these lately?"

"No," she said sleepily. "I don't touch those...way above my pay grade. What are you looking for?"

"Core schematic," he grumbled. "Not fucking here...where the hell did I put it?"

Though Lucky made a very pointless questioning noise, she said nothing as she sat down and began her daily transcriptions. Hell, he had been grateful. She showed concern because she was simply a good person beneath all of the trauma and the terror she had reigned on his self-image. But she didn't pry or attempt to enter his space afterward where she would clearly only be in the way.

But that was before her second moan filled the office.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, never looking up from his stack of papers.

A frustrated sigh and a grumble came from the desk chair.

"Think I slept on my neck funny last night," she said. "Doesn't help that my posture is shit. Just making it impossible to find a good angle to work in."

Growing agitated at his fruitless search, Heisenberg whipped around to look at her. "Want some help?"

"Mmn?"

"Want a massage or something?" he offered. "A...ha! You'll find this funny. Supersized one up in the castle? Used to love to make me massage her neck when I was a kid. Fucking manual labor when I was barely old enough to write. Had maids to do it - an assload at that - and forced me to instead."

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucky frowned. "Was it...did she...did she hurt you? Like...if you didn't do it?"

"Ah nah," he said, taking careful steps over to Lucky. "Told you...when I was a kid, I was off limits. I whine about it now...but...well...I was a kid. Bitch loves kids. So I had to massage her back...but only part of this stupid salon thing we used to do together. It was nothing. Stupid. Just like her."

He did not know what to make of Lucky's face. Tilting her head, she steadied a look on him that could only be called curious.

"It's...it's a good memory? Of Alcina when you were small?"

Heisenberg scoffed.

"It's a memory," he said, standing behind Lucky with a wide stance and an even wider stare at her neck. "Not good or bad...just...there. Now...where's it hurt, kid?"

Raising a hand, Lucky placed her fingers on a section of her neck before swirling her touch.

"Ah...there...like just this one spot, but fanning out..."

"Okay...looks like your C7."

"My what now?"

Chuckling, Heisenberg moved her hand out of the way. "Your C7 vertebrae. Duck your chin down so I can get in here properly."

Doing as she was told, Lucky's head moved forward and Heisenberg placed his gloved hands against her neck. His thumbs encased the pained area and began to move in slow yet sturdy circles.

Lucky immediately began squirming.

"Can you maybe try without the gloves?" she asked. "Those are like...rough or something."

Casting off his gloves quickly, Heisenberg rolled his shoulders before trying again. "Wah, wah, wah...doing you a favor and you're out here complaining. That better, your highness?"

"Yes, actually," she said, relaxing. "And thank you. Asshole."

Puffing air out of his mouth, Heisenberg merely shook his head as he kneaded her skin.

"Mmn!"

Heisenberg tried to hide his stillness by immediately starting to massage her skin again.

But the noise could not be ignored.

"What was that?"

"Your hands...they're so warm. Fuck...feels good."

"Oh..." he said dumbly. Blinking down at her, he turned his head away as he kept his fingers in motion.

The fact that his cock had begun to waken in his pants was not lost on him.

"Are you using your electric powers? Is that why it feels so good?"

"Nah...really shouldn't do that on the living above the waist."

Above the waist...but below the waist...

"Ah," he continued, running his teeth over the scar on his lower lip. "Cause of the heart or whatever. Probably your brain too from this angle. Could fry both without meaning to. And I was working...earlier. Probably why they feel hot."

Lucky sighed as he continued to work her neck. His fingers were sweeping but slow. He had started off so intently and so rough. What had happened?

I felt her skin. Felt her beneath me. Felt her neck...for all she knows I could snap it right now and instead of being afraid she's welcoming me...she trusts me...trusts me enough to let me do this...

The next round of his fingers on her neck dipped into skin purposeful in their worship.

Her response was immediate.

"Oh...oh...good boy," she whispered.

To say he was lost for words was like calling water wet.

Though he kept his massage in a rhythmic round, his eyes were wide as they could possibly be behind his glasses. So wide that they hurt.

What the hell did she just do to me?

If he had to go off of physical injury, he would say she punched him in the stomach with all the force of a train running at full speed.

If he had to go off of an attack to his psyche, he would say she wormed her way into some long buried and forgotten wire that sent his entire brain into overdrive.

If he had to go off the erection now straining against his paints, he would say that he was royally fucked.

"You really are so good at this," she said, her voice still breathless. "Good boy...my good boy, Heis."

Heisenberg snatched his hands away as if Lucky were lava.

"Wait! No...what's wrong?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

If she looks down...if she sees...

"GOTTA TAKE A SHIT!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Lucky's mouth dropped open as she gaped at him.

Then she nodded with a laugh playing at her lips.

"Yeah. Go. Just come back and finish your massage."

Before he could finish blinking, he found himself storming down the hallway.

Well...intending to storm. His gait was impacted a bit by his dick standing at full mast and his hands hurriedly attempting to unbuckle the straps around his pants.

So FUCKING dumb. A shit? Really? he thought, visibly grimacing. It would have probably been less embarrassing to admit I was about to jack it to her calling me hers.

Hers...her good boy...good...I'm her good boy...hahaha...

What am I? A fucking dog?

...don't answer that.

Rushing into the break room, he considered the couch before catching sight of the bathroom. With a flick of one wrist as his other hand pulled his cock from his underwear and pants, Heisenberg slammed open the bathroom door.

He managed to slide his pants down his legs as he sat on the toilet and closed the door with the weakest of hand movements.

Finally free from judgment, Heisenberg hissed as he fumbled his glasses to the nearby counter and took himself into his hand.

"Good boy...her good boy...fuck...fuck yeah I am, baby..."

A groan and a grunt fell from his lips as he jerked his hand along his shaft.

All too often this act had been nothing but release from tension. An exploration so technical and so tedious as to be boring. But now with Lucky at his side and in his bed - however platonically she slept there - the images that plagued him seemed vibrantly real and tempting in their joyful teasing.

Imaginings - hopes and dreams and fantasies - that he could only cling onto in the moment.

The desk.

He would take her right on that same desk she was taking notes on.

"Oh, Karl," she would say, despite not knowing his first name. "Gonna be my good boy?"

"Yes," he said aloud, eyes closing and mind prickling with sights of her and waves of pleasure.

Lucky would be splayed on his desk - lying on her back and presenting herself to him as if she were a meal to be consumed instead of a darling treasure to worship.

"That's good...only good boys are allowed to fuck me. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes...yes...god fucking damnit. YES." Huffing and hating the tremble in his thighs, Heisenberg bucked into his hand. "Yes...only me...wanna be your good boy. I'll be so good for you. Only you, Mein Schatz..."

A dirty laugh from her lips. The Lucky of his dreams becoming more and more defined as she palmed one breast and teased her clit with the fingers of her other hand.

"Mmm...know what you're saying you know...my treasure...that's so cute...been feeling the same way about you lately...thinking of you...dreaming of you...my good boy want to tell me what else he's been feeling? Mmn? Big boy wanna tell me before you put your cock inside of me?"

Lips loose along with his pleasure, Heisenberg found he could not build his voice to say the words aloud.

So he mouthed them instead. Mouthed them and stuttered in his quest for pleasure as his hand curled about his shaft at the "lah" tipping silently from his tongue.

"Oh, darling..." A smile. She'd smile. Genuine and sweet and sincere and all for him. "I love you too, Karl."

"Mmnnn....ah...fu-UCK!" With a panicked inhale, Heisenberg quickly pinched the head of his cock to prevent his end from coming too soon. "No, no, no...not yet...not yet...please..."

Though the pleasure was unlike anything he had previously experienced and his calves clenched in protest of a release delayed, his oncoming orgasm stalled and began to fade.

"Such a good boy," said Lucky, eyeing him in his fantasy like she would look at a drink of water on a hot day. "That's right. You don't come until I tell you to. Understand?"

A nod of his head.

"Good, good boy. My good boy. Good Karl. Come on...think it's time you got your treat...here...I'll help you..."

With her fingers moving to fully expose the inside of that wet and preciously pink pussy of hers, Lucky looked up at him with a lidded look.

Heisenberg had no experience with another person when it came to handling his physical pleasure. Hell, with any pleasure or positive feeling at all. Except maybe the triumph of victory over others, he had never had the chance to experience happiness - true happiness and trust and faith in another soul.

Until her.

And for her...for her he would indulge and give himself freely...if only locked away inside of his mind.

Inexperience taking a back seat to passion, he pictured himself guiding his cock into her waiting and welcoming body. Maybe he would steady himself with a hand on her hip or simply with a heated stare into her eyes.

He all but strangled his cock to try to mimic a feeling he had never known and had never thought to miss before her.

"Uh-huh," whined Lucky in his dreams. "Oh...you're so big...fill me up just right. So fucking thick..."

"Hah...ah...your good boy big enough for you?"

"Yes...oh yes...yes...so big...such a perfect dick...please...please Karl...Heis...please, baby, please...Heis?"

When he began to rut into his own hand with a purpose, he felt flames like that of standing directly beside the blaring crucible dancing across his cheeks. Though some of his daydream seemed vague and hard to read, he had enough to know that he could not delay the inevitable for much longer. Lucky - the real and actual Lucky - was still waiting for him back in the office. Waiting and none the wiser to his desperate need for her affection. It sickened him - the want for anything and everything to do with her.

Sickened him...and sent electric shocks of white pleasure down his spine.

"So fucking perfect...you're so fucking perfect for me, Lucky...oh..."

"Heis..."

"Huh...ah...already so close...so damn worked up...can't stand it...can't stand you looking like that..."

"Like what?"

Heaving and heatedly squirming where he sat, Heisenberg noticed for the first time that one of his boots jutted up and down on the floor beneath him. As if his entire body refused to be still.

"Most beautiful fucking thing I've ever seen," he bit out. "Please...please, Luck...I know it's soon...but please..."

A tilted head and a gentle grin. A pointer finger that danced around her clit and drew his eyes away only long enough for her to breathe out shallow and short. His eyes snapped back to hers immediately.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come...let me come inside you...wanna...wanna take you...claim you...don't want you with anyone else ever again."

Glinting eyes and lush eyelashes.

"You're gonna be all that to me, Heis? Well...in that case..."

Her lips finding his own. His very first kiss - albeit imaginary. Her lips soft but without taste. His own lips puckering even as they trembled from the need for more.

"In that case," she continued, taunting him in his ear. "Come, Heis. Be a good boy and come for me."

Hindsight would have him chastising himself for not thinking to grab some tissue. In the moment, however, he was too busy panting and watching his cum dot the floor in thick strips. Heisenberg growled...tried to hold on to the image of her with one eye still closed.

Reality settled in on him. Settled in even as his stomach quivered underneath his shirt and his orgasm began to relax into his bones. It was pleasant and his every nerve seemed to stand on edge. Tingles of pleasure radiated from his chest to his feet flat against the floor. Gulping in air, he knew he had never come so hard before in his life. It was good...great even.

But it was not her. It was not enough.

Clean up was a quick and tedious affair. Lucky could not know what he had done in her quarters. The tissues he found too late to wipe his seed from the floor were tossed and flushed away. He checked the room once and then again once his shades were back on his face.

Finishing the belt at the top of his pants, he cleared his throat before exiting.

The television in the break room still hummed though it sat completely dead in the meager light from the ceiling.

Shit...glad she wasn't in here. Never had anyone here to care about when I got down to business...no telling what my powers do with electronics...

The schematic. He had to find that damn schematic.

Trying to level his breathing as he stalked the hallway, Heisenberg considered the day before him. Lucky had not wished to attend a revitalization attempt with him yet. While he didn't intend to push her into seeing something that might scar her again, it might be worthwhile to have her eyes in the room at some point. She hadn't complained about the notes yet. Maybe he should offer? Make it sound like a small deal and let her in when it was near completion? Give her a taste before exposing her to more?

Fucking stupid...it's all so fucking stupid...what happened to me? If she were any assistant, I would just drag her ass there and have her record the whole thing. Fuck me with all this concerned shit.

But she's not just any assistant...

Entering the office, he stilled at the doorway when he saw Lucky facing him from her chair.

"Uh...hey," he said, licking his lips. "Sorry about that. Took...ah...let's just forget it."

"Actually," she began. "I need to be honest with you. Because of what happened before..."

Eyebrows shooting up, he stood in silence before she continued.

"Um...so...I was sitting here...sitting here and trying to rub my neck or whatever..."

"Yes?"

"Well...the radio came on and it freaked me out a little bit..." She paused, her fidgety look dropping to the floor. "But...the more I listened...the more I...recognized your voice."

"My...my voice?"

"Yes."

Heisenberg could not move. He shouldn't be looking at her, but he was afraid if he blinked that the tension would break and she would begin laughing or cursing or, worst of all, apologizing.

"Umm...it...I heard you. And I guess you were...I guess it was real time." A tent of her fingers and a swallow in her throat. "I heard your comment and responded and...I think...I think you could hear me too. Possibly? You seemed to...seemed to be replying to what I said directly."

Shame. Shame for a million years fell on his shoulders that had felt so light before.

"Where?" he managed to say. "Where did you come in? What comment did you respond to?"

How she looked at him, he had no idea. She was far braver than he could ever be. Heisenberg planned to face down Miranda without a single hesitation one day on that glorious battlefield where his freedom could be won.

But now? Faced with Lucky standing and walking toward him with the full weight of her eyes upon him?

He looked away.

"You said...you asked me if my good boy was big enough for me."

The purr in her voice. The sound of her steps growing closer. The burn in his throat.

"After that," she said. "I called your name...I...responded to you and you to me."

"That didn't...I..." He shook his head. "I...umm..."

"Can I hold your hand?"

Head shooting up, Heisenberg caught her heated look. The same heated look she had worn in his dreams.

He nodded. Nodded even though he barely registered it until she took his hand and steps to press herself flush against him.

When she spoke, it was hushed and low.

For him and him only.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom...freshen up. Since we know you can communicate from the radio to the television...I want you to tell me when it's okay to come back here. I'm giving you two options."

Heisenberg hung on her every word and looked at her as if she controlled his every movement.

"The first...you can leave. Can give me enough time to go there...find what you were looking for...then tell me you're off to do whatever. I won't mention this again. We won't mention it."

Silence fell between the two of you. A crackle of the radio to the side of the room.

"And the other option?" he asked, voice nearly breaking.

A shy look. A happy tilt of her lips.

"The other option...you can rest for a bit before I come back here and make whatever fantasy you were having come true."

A mouth drier than dry left his tongue feeling too large. Too large and too needed to swipe across his lips.

"You don't have to answer now-"

"The second one," he said. "Second one. Want that one. Screw the first one."

A bright and happy smile. A smile that crinkled the tail of her eyes and lit up her face.

She was beaming at him. Squeezing his hand before parting from him.

Not for long...not for damn long if he could help it.

"You give me the word then, good boy," she teased, walking out of the room.

Legs nearly buckling and sending him to the ground, Heisenberg took uneasy steps to his office chair before throwing himself on it. His entire body buzzed, though it seemed far less like electricity and far more like promise and hope. Not love on her end...not yet. But a maybe. Potential.

More.

Grinning stupidly and looking at the desk, he made quick work of clearing the area for the fun he planned on having from his daydream to come true.

As soon as he picked up the recorder Lucky used to transcribe his notes, Heisenberg saw it.

That damned schematic.

His last visit to this same room. A note on said schematic stating "DON'T FORGET" in large words. A note he carelessly put there before guiding Lucky to sit down to look at her transcriptions and laugh with her over the sixth stable boy in one week to die of drunken stupidity.

Quietly and contentedly, he opened the desk drawer to stuff the schematic inside.

"Mmn...don't think I'll need you for a while yet actually..." Eyeing the radio on the wall, Heisenberg tossed his glasses to the table and tried to slick and perfect the wiry hair about his head. "Oh, Lucky, honey...room is ready whenever you are...and so is your good boy."

[mindninjax]

Iron and Wine (3)

Chapter 3- Lovely Bitter Water

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)

Warnings: Erwin can't keep his fucking hands to himself, sexual tension, some dirty talk, nightmares,

WC: 3.5K

a/n: Be wary of the warnings on this one just in case anyone is uncomfortable with it. But This chapter contains humor and sexual tension and by far was my favorite chapter to write so far.

The high stone ceiling peels away above you to show the sky. It is clear and dark, save for a thousand twinkling lights, the souls of those you’ve lost shining down upon you. You blink, once, twice, as the wind tickles your skin and dances merrily through your hair. There is a warm pale glow above you and your mind is wandering into the cosmos as you feel a pair of cool lips on your forehead. A glowing ball of white light beckons to you as you sit up and gaze around the swaying tall grass around you.

This is a dream.

You stand, the dress you’re wearing swaying with the wind like a synchronized dance. The air smells clean and fresh, like the trees back home. You take a step forward, smiling to yourself and basking in the white light shining down on you. The moon sits large on the horizon across the field you’re in and fills you with joy as you skip freely toward it. You laugh and it rings out into the field like a carol of bells.

You’re stopped in your tracks as a large white hoof stomps in front of you. The ground shakes from the impact and you can see it start to crumble. You look up and there is a beast with the face of a goat and the body of a man sitting atop the saddle. It’s eyes are blacker than an abyss, staring at you blankly. They’re cold, sucking the very life from you.

Suddenly the wind stops and it is deathly silent. The air no longer smells fresh and clean but reeks of rotten flesh. You whip your head around fear creeping up the back of your neck as the clear night sky forms dark stormy clouds above your head. The sky bursts open with an ear splitting crack and wailing misery from above can be heard. It is earth shattering, rumbling the world and making your ears bleed.

Horrific images flash before your eyes in quick succession. Animals' skin and bone disintegrate in his presence. When he dismounts from his horse the land dies beneath his feet and when he takes a step blood stains the earth.

You scream but the sound is stolen and swallowed by the darkness he brings. The last thing you see before it takes over you completely, is the beast opening his mouth, a sinister crooked smile on his lips as he utters the words “I have come and with me I bring death.”

You awake with a gasp and shoot up in the large bed. Your vision is blurred as the remnants of the dream fade away and the bright morning light breaks through the haze. It takes you a few minutes to recognize your surroundings, but it comes flying back to you when you see Historia lying peacefully next to you in bed.

You are in the wolf king’s castle, acting as what he refers to as a “guest” when really you are his prisoner. Historia helped you take a bath last night, washed your hair and dressed you in a light but extravagant sleeping gown. When it was time to retire for the night, she’d bowed to you and asked to be excused. Remembering how fond she was of the room, you’d suggested she stay here with you and sleep. It might’ve been a bit selfish on your part, her presence was calming and her soft breath next to your ear was the only thing that lulled you into slumber.

But that dream almost certainly was a warning. You’d prayed for clarity before you went to sleep and the Mother provided. However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t woken up more confused than before. What was she trying to tell you? If Erwin Smith was in fact the enemy, the bringer of destruction and death, why did Her whispers stay your blade?

You shut your eyes tightly, put your index finger and thumb together while intertwining your other fingers and kiss the tip before bowing your head. “Forgive me Mother. I do not understand what it is I’m supposed to do. Erwin Smith is the enemy, so how do I stop him and save your children?” You whisper quietly under your breath.

A bubbling warmth pools in your gut when you think about the Wolf King and you don’t like the way it makes your heart thrum in your chest like a caged bird. You don’t understand what part he’s to play, whether you should trust him or not. But one thing is for certain, The Mother does not want him dead. You roll your eyes before getting off the bed and walking to the window to open the heavy curtains and let in the sun’s warmth.

Historia still sleeps peacefully on the bed, her even breathing occasionally interrupted by soft snores. You smile as you watch her, curled up on the bed, innocent and lovely. Perhaps you were wrong to think you couldn’t trust any of the people in the castle. As you watch the bustling people below from the window, you take a deep breath and make your decision. The only people who have actually shown you their true selves are Erwin and the little dog he keeps next to him. Which means, the only ones you have to distrust right now are those two. It would make for an easier time if you were being forced to stay here.

Then it’s settled, you’ll be cordial to the others and keep your guard up around Erwin and his knight. He may think you’ll agree to his plan, but you won’t. The fact that you can’t kill him is bothersome but you can definitely take this time to learn more about how he rules and bring that viable information back to your people.

Two quick knocks on the door draw your eyes away from the people below and your body instantly crouches into defense. You shake your head, trying to break the automatic defensive edge that is built into your character. Cordial and pleasant. That’s what you need to be. A nervous voice on the other side of the door calls out.

“Good Morning my lady, King Erwin demands your presence in the council room.”

You squint your eyes in frustration. Demands?

You wrench the door open to see the tall farm pup man standing before you. He jumps a bit at the sudden swing of the door and his eyes drift down your body before he turns red and looks away nervously. You don’t realize how thin the garment you’re wearing is. Your nipples bead in the cool air in the chamber and a breeze flows through your legs making it cling to your curves. You smile a little to yourself at his obvious embarrassment.

“You’re one of the knights he sent to stand outside my door, yes? To make sure I don’t run off?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He still doesn’t look at you, but nods his head and says “Yes my lady.”

“I see, and you are Ser…?”

“Moblit my lady. Umm if you don’t mind me saying, maybe you would feel more comfortable in more appropriate attire? The King is demanding I escort you to the council chamber at once,” he says again.

You study him for a bit. He’s cute with warm trusting eyes. You can tell he’s not faking how nervous he seems to be around you but if you were to guess why Erwin would keep someone like him around, he’s probably levelheaded on the battlefield. You do raise your eyebrow in frustration at his use of the word “demands” again but you clear your throat and look at him.

“Well, thank you for guarding the door Ser Moblit,” you say bowing to him.

You smile brightly at him as he’s caught off guard by your pleasant attitude. He blushes again when you complete the bow and gaze back into his large brown eyes. You can hear Historia yawning and waking up behind you. You hear her little gasp as she jumps out of bed and runs to the door, mortified at the way you’re dressed in front of Moblit.

“You can’t just answer the door dressed like that! It’s indecent!” she squeaks, trying to cover you as you laugh warm heartedly at her. The last thing you say to him before Historia pulls you back into the room and shuts the door is “Please tell the King to get fucked in the ass by his horse before he demands anything of me again.”

Erwin lifts his clear eyes from the scroll of parchment at the sound of the heavy doors opening. The sound echoes loudly around the room creating a grand entrance. He stops scribbling and peaks an eyebrow when he sees only one person entering the council room. Moblit clears his throat uncomfortably as he approaches. All eyes are on him as he bows respectfully avoiding the King’s gaze.

Erwin speaks calmly, no hint of frustration in his voice. “Moblit, why is my guest not with you?”

Moblit bows again before responding, “My apologies sire, she...refused to come.”

“Really now? Did she give a reason why?” He asks as if he’s unbothered with the disobedience.

“N..no sire.”

Erwin smiles to himself, thumping his long fingers on the large wooden table. Of course you wouldn’t come. This is exactly what he expected. If you had shown up, that would’ve been too easy and not your style. “Not giving a reason certainly doesn’t sound like something the silver tongued little lioness would do. Come, tell me her words.”

“S..she requested that your majesty… ahem… be fucked in the ass by your horse,” Moblit stutters and shifts his eyes and it looks like it physically pains him to say this to his King. The room goes silent, Hange tries to keep a snicker in, Levi growls underneath his breath, and the others watch Erwin carefully.

He looks back down to his parchment and continues scribbling. “Nifa.” He says not looking up as he continues to write. Nifa jumps at the sound of her name. She sits in the corner of the room, large rolls of parchment are draped over the side of the small table she sits at. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Is there anything on the roster after sunset?”

Nifa shuffles through the parchment as her eyes scan over the schedule. “No, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. Please add ‘fuck my horse’ to the roster for just after nightfall. Thank you.”

Hange’s snicker erupts into laughter as Nifa scribbles in the addition and Erwin smirks to himself.

You sit in front of the large vanity mirror, the candles dripping wax down the candle holder. You stare into the fire, daydreaming of leaving this place as the last remnants of sunlight become swallowed by the horizon. You’ve been cooped up in this room all day, refusing all who came to the door with food and gifts of clothes from the King.

“I still can’t believe you told Ser Moblit to tell the King that. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that about His Highness,” Historia says nervously as she brushes your hair. You’re holding a silver goblet full of wine that was brought up to your room, a peace offering, the woman who’d given it to you said. It wouldn’t be here if not for Historia asking to sample it. It’s true you’ve taken a very intense liking to Historia. She truly feels like your only friend here.

You sniff the wine and wrinkle your nose in disgust. It smells processed and fake, not at all like the wine Carla makes back home. Erwin must think you a fool. As if you’d drink something he’d present to you as a gift. It could be poisoned.

You set the cup down as Historia moves to braid intricate little braids at the crown of your head and let the rest flow freely down your back.

“Well, you’ve never left this castle. Outside these walls, the people don’t speak fondly of your king,” you scold her.

“Why not? King Erwin has done nothing but help me since he found me in my village,” she says seriously.

“What do you mean?” You turn around to gaze at her in confusion. It has occurred to you that you haven’t asked her anything about herself and it saddens you. Your gaze softens as you look at her and she smiles her bright smile at you before a firm knock on your door makes the both of you jump.

“Don’t,” she says, putting a hand in front of you to stop you from moving. “We don’t need a repeat of this morning. You probably almost killed Moblit. Put this on I’ll get the door for you,” she says handing you a silk robe to cover the thin nightgown you wear.

You chuckle as she walks to the door and opens it warily. You hear her squeak in surprise and turn to see her bowing lowly and Erwin pushing the door open and stepping into the room. You stand quickly, pulling the robe up over your arms and glaring as he enters.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says warmly to Historia. She blushes and shakes her head quickly, her blonde locks hitting her cheeks.

“No, Your Grace. My lady was just getting ready to sleep for the night,” she replies, still holding the door, face full of shock.

Erwin’s eyes rake up and down your figure and he smiles that cocksure smile he’s famous for. “Yes, I can see that. Historia, would you mind giving me and the Lioness a moment of privacy?” he asks, bending down to take her hand into both of his.

You’re steaming, grinding your teeth as you watch Historia’s face grow pink and she nods wordlessly to him. “No! Historia stays with me. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her.” You step between her and the door and she looks nervously between you and him. He gives her a knowing look and she scurries past you, whispering in your ear quickly. “I’ll be back when he leaves.”

When she closes the door quietly behind her, you glare up at Erwin who continues smiling warmly at you. “I see you’re not a fan of the wine I had sent up for your pleasure,” he says walking to the vanity and picking up the goblet. He takes a sip, then closes his eyes and relishes in the sweet taste. “This is the best wine in the entire kingdom, made specifically for the King.” You curl your lip up in disgust.

“It tastes that way. Like it was only meant to please you. It lacks the care, the love for the vine and fruit that you would be able to taste in each sip,” you explain, rolling your eyes. Not like he would understand anyway. A spoiled king with servants to do his every bidding would never understand the time and care it takes to produce good wine.

“Hmm I suppose it does,” he says, eyeing you curiously. You can tell he’s enjoying this, the way his sneaky sapphire eyes move slowly up your body, lingering on the spread of your hips and the curve of your breast. You turn away from him in disgust.

“Why are you here?”

He feigns shock, eyes growing wide and he puts a hand to his chest. “Why, my lady, I thought you summoned me here. Surely I didn’t misinterpret Moblit’s message.”

Confusion floods your face as you squint and question his sanity. “Are you mad? I told Ser Moblit no such thing,” you say, shaking your head.

“Hmm, I thought for sure being fucked by my own horse was some kind of coded message. It is quite sudden I will admit but I have had many who crave me and I will not tell a lie, I am fascinated by what is beneath your lovely gown,” he says casually walking over to stand in front of you and smile down smugly.

You can feel your face heating at the insinuation. As if you’d ever invite him to your room, least of all for that. You sputter a bit before quickly retorting, “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce into a pact with you? I am not that weak and I have met many who were worth craving.”

You see the shock flash across his face and return his smug smile. His expression turns dark then and he lowers his voice and moves so close to you that you can smell the lingering scent of the wine he sipped.

“Do not continue to insult me. Your snide comments are only as entertaining as I continue to allow them to be. You would’ve been dead a long time ago were it not for the way I enjoy your tongue sliding over your lips while you say them,” he breathes and the warmth envelops you and makes your head a bit dizzy.

You keep your composure though, opting to continue to tease and make him as uncomfortable as he made you. You’re determined to expose his weakness and walk out of this castle vowing to destroy him and everything he holds dear.

“A shame that even the great Wolf King can be brought to his knees by a woman,” you reply sarcastically.

“Forgive me, but you are mistaking a fleeting lust-filled gaze for something more. I shall not kill you until we’ve come to an agreement, that or...I have at least tasted you upon my lips. And once I have—and I will one day—the fascination will cease. But until then, enjoy your stay in my castle and please read over the document I’ve provided. I am sure it will help with your decision.”

Your hand is itching to slap him across his chiseled jaw. You crane your hand back quickly but he catches it and throws you against the nearest wall. He pins you against it with his large body looming over you, the hand you were about to use to slap him pinned above your head and the other at your side. He tightens his grip on your wrists, a thick muscular thigh wedged between yours, partaking in the warmth radiating from your cunt.

“You’d dare to strike your king?” He grunts in a husky voice as you struggle in his grasp. His breath washes over you again as he cranes his neck down to drink in your scent.

“You are not my king,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Ahh there is the fierceness that makes my cock weep. A true lioness. Breaking you will be the greatest victory I’ve ever tasted. ”

You’re ashamed at how his words affect you. He pushes his thigh ever so slightly up against your folds and you gasp as his cock twitches against your thigh. He stares into your eyes, half lidded as his breathing increases.

His musk strangely reminds you of home, it’s woody and spicy like roasted chestnuts during the Celestial Ides festival. Hints of rose linger around the edges and you try very hard not to be drawn in by it. Your face burns as his eyes shift down to your lips and he leans in to brush his against your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft and he’s very skilled at swiping them against your collarbone and up your jaw in such a way that would have you pleading for more if it were not him. You shudder and hold in the moan that desperately craves to be released before wriggling in his grasp to try and free yourself. Your hand moves to the tiny hidden slit you made in the robe when Historia wasn’t looking.

He moves gently up to your jaw, dragging his lips over your soft skin. He only stops when he feels a cool sharp prick right beneath his rib cage.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I’ll carve out your heart and feed it to your dogs,” you say between clenched teeth and heavy sensual breaths. You push the dagger harder into his side and it pricks through the fabric of his shirt, drawing blood.

He chuckles and releases his hold on you, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. He pulls a rolled up piece of parchment from the inside of his loose sleeves and places it onto the vanity before saying, “I should’ve known you’d have a weapon hidden on your person. I guess you’ve become a bigger distraction to me than I previously assumed.”

You wipe your neck and face where his lips were in disgust, holding the dagger and crouching ready to spring should he come closer to you.

“Get out. And do not ever touch me again.”

He only smiles a warm hearted smile, as if nothing has happened and walks to the door to open it.

“Until next time, my lady,” and shuts the door quietly behind him.

--

taglist: @lazyezstudy @jeanbeaux @ixwrites @melyannathemaia @forlancasterrr @starstruckkittensweets @charlotteplsdosth @mythical-goth @casspea @saturnalya @neptvnia @mrs-kuroojinguji

Strikethrough means tumblr won’t let me tag! I’m sorry

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜱɪx-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST:

White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

“Would you listen to me!? You can’t physically leave Wonderland. You can’t go back. The Wonderland is the wasteland of every other lands. You’re here forever.”

Everything from the moment the King said those words was very blurry. You remember getting dizzy, yelling some more, and then being carried to the bedroom you were now in, sobbing uncontrollably with Seonghwa by your side, sitting on the bed's red silk covers, unsure of what to do.

"I'm sorry Y/N..."

The only reply he got was ugly sobs. He gently placed his hand on your head and caressed your hair. The King wasn't sure of what he was doing, but it seemed to calm you down ever so slightly.

"E-explain it to me... Please..."

"Explain what?..." He asked, not quite understanding what you meant.

"What is Wonderland."

"Well... As far as I know, Wonderland is supposed to be the wasteland from other places. Unwanted people are sent here: criminals, freaks, people who displease Kings and Queens... It used to be a lawless land, anyone who came here would be met with a grey land of death and despair. Everyone scavenged for food and for hideouts, trying their best to survive. A lot of beings just killed themselves, tired of living a life of running and hiding, but most starved, or perished in the claws of the Jabberwocky."

"Jabberwocky?" You asked, as you sat up on the bed and crawled over to sit next to the King.

"Hm hmm, a hideous monster, with a dirty, scaly green skin, several rows of sharp teeth, an enormous tail, wings, and feet with claws so long it could grab you while flying high. He was the reason people sent the unwanted here because they were being sent to a slow, painful death at the hands of a monster. However when my dad was sent here he met my mom, by accident, and he fell in love. He couldn't bear to see my mom hurting and afraid, so he slew the Jabberwocky. My dad was severely injured, but he was able to make a speedy recovery, and everyone in the land recognized him as their King. And with the Jabberwocky dead, people were able to bring Wonderland back to life. It's a story with a happy ending, but I'm afraid yours," he paused, gently placing his hand on your thigh "doesn't have one of those."

Your sadness and grief turned into sudden anger and disbelief. The Hatter, Cheshire, Absolem... They all lied to you. They promised you something they knew they wouldn't be able to accomplish, for their own gain!

You wiped your tears and got up from the bed roughly. You looked over your shoulder and stared at a confused Seonghwa.

"I'll be back. There's someone I need to talk to."

Seonghwa didn't want you to go, he was afraid you wouldn't come back. But he knew that if he stopped you from going, you'd certainly feel betrayed by his actions, and would change your behavior towards him. The King didn't want to lose you, physically or emotionally. However before his conflicted mind could make up a choice, you were already gone, on your way to find those crazy bastards.

The second you saw the large table in the distance you sped up the pace, even though your legs already hurt from walking so much.

When the hatter heard the sound of dry leaves being stepped on, he turned around, and greeted you with his usual big smile, heart thumping out of his chest at the sight of the lady that caught his eye. He jumped out of his chair and walked towards you, immediately embracing you in a big, tight hug.

You wiggled your way out of the hug and shoved him away. The Hatter's wide smile turned into a frown, as his eye's colour faded away slightly.

"You motherfuckers! You lied to me! The King told me the truth about Wonderland! You lied to me so I could do your dirty fucking work! Looks like the King isn't the untrustworthy one here."

Angry tears formed in your eyes as you yelled every single word. You pushed your index finger harshly against the Hatter's chest at every word you said.

"I- I... Y/N please, I'm sorry, you must understand I had no choice but to agree with them! We need our freedom."

You messily wiped away your tears with your forearm and titled your chin up.

"I don't ever want to see you again." You said, in a bland, emotionless voice.

Even the March Hare had stopped laughing. You turned around and were about to walk away when the Hatter grabbed your arm.

"Y/N, please! Where will you go?"

You freed yourself from his grip.

"I'll be staying with the King. And if I were you I'd stay far from the castle, if I see any of you walking around I'll tell the King about your plan."

The Hatter watched you walk away, as your pompous dress followed your body's movements.

"Hmm seems like you really messed up this time." Chesire mocked, in his usual mellow tone, as he inspected his claws that had been long replaced with nails.

The Hatter's face scrunched up in anger.

"It's Absolem's fault."

Cheshire scoffed.

"Oh yes, and he will be oh so upset by finding that this absolute stranger is mad at him. You're the one who has a little crush."

"Nonsense. I feel bad for her, that's all. The second she got here we lied and used her."

Cheshire laid on his back and played with his purple strands of hair.

"Too bad. From what I've hear Y/N and the King are getting along quite nicely..."

The Hatter's eyes got as big as two strawberries.

"Chessie how do you know!?"

Cheshire shrugged and vanished into thin air, leaving the Hatter alone with his two mad friends, as he watched you disappear in the horizon.

It was pitch dark outside once you stepped foot in the garden. The cards, although emotional, somehow seemed to be relieved. You pushed open the big, heavy, brown doors, to find Seonghwa pacing back and forth in the entrance. As soon as his eyes landed on you he smiled, a wide smile you weren't so sure you had ever seen. His teeth were beautiful, pearly white and straight, and the way his eye sparkled and turned into a crescent moon was amusing to watch. The male embraced you immediately, as a sigh left his mouth.

"Oh, my dear, I was so afraid you wouldn't come back."

You smiled faintly and looked into his eyes.

"You won't have to, not anymore."

The King tilted his head cutely as if asking 'what do you mean?'.

"I'll be your Queen."

Seonghwa smiled widely, just like before, and you could swear the little heart under his eye twinkled. His large hands grabbed your waist and spun you around.

"Oh, this is what happiness feels like! Oh my... It feels like a million fireworks are exploding inside of my chest! I want to feel this feeling forever, and I've only ever felt it with you."

It was the right choice. You were sure. You had only met a handful of people, and 90% of them lied and betrayed you, and this one man had offered you everything, had showed you support, promised to change, and showed true happiness around you. Yes, the choice was clear. He'd keep you safe and he would give you a good life, at least good enough to drown your tears at night and make you forget what you left behind unwillingly.

You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled.

"I like to see you happy."

You stood in the hall, looking into each other's eyes. Seonghwa was new to affection, he didn't know what was happening, and you could see it in his eyes. You got on your tippy-toes and placed a soft kiss on his red lips. Seonghwa stumbled back a little. His cheeks grew considerably red, and his middle and index finger touched his own lips.

"I... liked that. A lot. Can you do it again?" He asked, getting close to you once more.

"How about you do it to me?"

Seonghwa pursed his lips and looked to the side, trying to work out in his head how he'd do it. Slowly, he cupped your face with his hands and bent down slightly, placing his lips on yours, for a little longer than the previous kiss.

"So?" You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

"I really liked it."

You chuckled at the supposed tyrant blushing like a teenage boy right in front of you. You embraced the man, your ear to his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat.

"Teach me..."

You looked up at his fearful eyes.

"Teach you what?"

Seonghwa hesitated, afraid of his own request.

"How to be a better man, how to have mercy, and compassion."

[silentprincess17]

The Perils of Swimming

This fic is a collab between me and the wonderfully talented artist @neivaloz on tumblr! Check out her awesome artwork that accompanies this fic! I love how we inspired each other and I look forward to more!

Summary: Link agrees to go swimming with Zelda when she gets her body back. He does not think this through, because there is one major problem: he can't swim.

Read on AO3 here!

Now that the sea in Aboda Village was directly in front of him, with Zelda no longer a ghost and made of flesh and skin, her promise of taking him out to swim actually a reality and not a passing comment at Papuchia Village, Link was beginning to regret the rashness with which he had said yes.

He hadn’t expected her to actually take it seriously. In the throes of the whirlwind adventure, he hadn’t anticipated she would actively remember, let alone take it to heart- it was now... four months since they had reclaimed the Ocean Realm? Which means it was roughly two months since they defeated Malladus. Towards the end, time seemed to fuse together, and life boiled down to essentially overcoming whatever barrier was in their way at the time. First it was restoring the tracks, then obtaining the Compass, followed by the Bow of Light and finally entering the Dark Realm to fight Malladus with the Lokomo Sword strapped to his back. By the time they reached the Compass, Link had more or less lost all notion of time, as Zelda and he grew progressively more panicked with each setback and it became an increasingly hectic race to save her body…

Link had chosen to stick with his engineering, primarily. He still felt he was more of a rookie soldier who only knew how to perform vague attacks that just so happened to work out in his favour, and without Zelda’s help as a Phantom he most certainly would have failed from the get-go. With that in mind, he chose to continue with what he had trained for up until now: to pilot the trains with mechanical engineering as his mainstay. Still, he didn’t want to completely lose what sword skills he had developed, so he regularly stopped at Hyrule Castle to train with Captain Russel and his guards. (The latter was really just an excuse to see Zelda before. Or afterwards. Most of the time it was both.)

And yesterday, Friday night, was one of those times he had gone to training, visiting Zelda before he supposedly went home for the weekend.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to insist on coming with him back to Aboda Village. He would never refuse her anything, and he assumed she might have wanted to meet Alfonso, or Niko, or really just visit his hometown, and he had agreed, staying at the castle that night. Zelda had long since given him a room close to hers, as a “more convenient place to stay” seeing how central the castle was to the rest of Hyrule.

Taking all that together, it was a surprise when she dragged him across to the small beach, where the sun sparkled against the deep blue sea, unclasped her belt that had the small sash attached to it, and pulled her dress off.

He gaped, before hurriedly turning away, “Zel! What are you doing?!”

“Taking my dress off silly, I’ve got my swimsuit underneath! We’re going swimming! I’ve finally, finally, caught up with the paperwork that accumulated whilst we were on our journey, and I finished my lessons in advance this week, for this reason! I know it’s not Papuchia, but there’s always a next time!”

What? Swimming? NEXT TIME?!

Nope, he had to ignore that for now. There was the issue of surviving the first-time round.

Because the idiot that he was, he couldn’t swim!

He lived in what was basically a seaside town, and yet, he couldn’t even paddle in the water, let alone swim.

He would drown as soon as the water reached higher than his neck!

“Link? It’s not too late, is it? I know it’s a little bit later than what I originally intended for when asking you, but there was just so much reordering to do in the Kingdom. Plus, you remember the whole scribing thing we had to undertake; it all took up so much more time than I expected. And then the weather was just awful this past week whenever I had some free time...”

Oh yes, he remembered the scribing. That whole incident had happened a week after their return to the castle, where Link had stayed behind both to physically recover himself from exhaustion and his wounds, and simultaneously help Zelda adjust to the land of the living.

On the first day, she had walked into so many doors and walls he thought she might have concussed herself, she regularly forgot she had to eat, and she didn’t have any fear of heights, despite the fact that falling with a body had pretty serious consequences. Consequently, Link felt honour bound to try to help her to remember she was, in fact, Hylian, and as such susceptible to many perils that she seemed to have forgotten over the course of the long months she spent as a spirit. Plus, she was very cute, and he blushed every time he felt her grip his hand excitedly, or drag his arm towards a bookshelf, or give him impromptu hugs for helping her.

Niko had cornered them after a week, wondering where Link had gotten too. When he found the two of them nibbling on sweet buns from Castle Town, a book on maps wedged firmly on their thighs, Link’s arm resting on the panel just above her shoulders; Niko had pulled a right fit. He had fussed over Link before declaring he would now create a tapestry to commemorate the newest iteration of legendary events. And that had taken the better part of two weeks to complete, and was now referred to as the “scribing” by Zelda and him.

“Link! Are you going to change your clothes or not? That’s the second reason why I didn’t drag you to Papuchia, because I forgot to tell you to pack your trunks.” She paused, “You do have trunks, right?”

No, no he didn’t. He’d just sacrifice an old pair of cargo pants he had. It would be fine. Probably. He made a vague motion towards his house, before deciding to put the Hero’s cap on. It would hopefully hold some of his hair back, and it would bring him luck on this death quest he was about to embark on.

Why?

Why did he put himself through this?

He sighed. He knew the answer.

This was all because he couldn’t say no to her.

He shuffled back into his home, Niko popping up whilst he half-heartedly opened his wardrobe and shuffled around some more. Spirits. He didn’t want to go back out. He didn’t want to admit to Zelda he didn’t know how to swim. Worse still, he didn’t want her to think badly of him for living by a seaside town, and yet, never having learnt such an essential skill.

Niko hobbled across on his cane to Link, peering around the wardrobe door.

“What’s with the long face? I thought you’d be excited, bringing the Princess over. Yes boy, I know she’s here, everyone heard the two of you enter town. It’s a small place, Link.”

He fished out an old, half-faded blue pair of shorts. “Zelda wants to go swimming, Niko.”

Niko’s eyes widened, “What? But you-”

Link slammed the wardrobe door shut with perhaps more force than necessary. “I know.”

Niko hesitated, before he placed a gnarled hand on Link’s shoulder. “I have a question for you Link… Do you know of any of Princess Zelda’s weaknesses?”

Well, that one was easy. “She’s absolutely terrified of mice. She will literally jump into my arms, or onto my back, to escape them.” He chuckled, “Even as a giant Phantom, three times my height, she couldn’t come near one.” He hesitated, thinking back to their recent conversations on her balcony under the stars, “She’s also scared of not doing well... but I guess this is a fear we all have…”

“That’s your answer then, Link.”

Huh? Why would knowing what Zelda was scared of make any difference?

“I can see you are still confused. Let me make it clearer. Did you judge the Princess for having those failings? Did you at any point think less of her?”

He vehemently shook his head, before stopping midway as it finally sunk in.

Oh.

Niko simply tapped his cane against the floor twice, before ambling off. “I’ll make some fried chicken for you both. One always gets hungry after swimming in the sea.”

Link scrambled into his shorts, and then ran out, just as Zelda walked up to meet him. “You were gone for an awfully long time, Link. I don’t want to imagine how disorganised your wardrobe is-”

The words bubbled out, “Zelda I don’t know how to swim.”

“-at least you’ve got some… are those even trunks? Well-”

“Zelda.” He grabbed her hand, shaking her arm a little, “Zelda!”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

She stared, stupefied. “Why didn’t you say? I would have brought my floats!”

It was his turn to gape. “Floats?”

She waved her hands in the air. “You know those things you use to keep you upright in the water.” A frown grew on her face, “Wait, does everyone here not know how to swim? That’s quite dangerous! We’ll have to change that.”

She shook her head, gently clasped his hand, pulling him along, “But that’s for later. I’ll teach you today, Link, if you want?”

He nodded, and she smiled.

“Let’s start off with paddling first, and then progress to basic kicks!”

Time flew by again, as he started off gently peddling his feet in the water, arms spread out wide, head just about jutting above the water line as he hovered, suspended in the sea, for the first time. Once he’d mastered just holding his weight in the water they proceeded onto kicks. That involved first thrashing his legs whilst gripping onto the ridge of land to hold himself in place. Then he advanced to doing one leg at a time like a proper swimming pattern. Zelda wrapped her arms around his middle, and he had a go at moving both arms and legs in synchrony.

He was surprised she could carry him, “Link, I do exercise you know. I’m not just a fluffy Princess. Being a Phantom was quite the experience.”

She heaved him higher, and he spluttered in the water, thrashing his arms a bit at the unexpected heave, “I liked being strong, and being able to help you. So, I’m going to do the best I can with my current body too. You never know, it might prove useful on our next adventure!”

He could only smile. He thanked the Spirits for giving him the chance to meet Zelda. For going on their convoluted journey. For having her as his best friend.

Soon enough, she gently let go of him, and moved to interlock her fingers with his hands as she guided him through the waves, his legs doing the measured, purposeful kicks they had practised.

He was so focussed, he hadn’t at all noticed Alfonso on the shore, until he called out to them, probably wondering what Link was even doing in the water. Zelda told Link to keep on kicking his legs as she slowly walked backwards, screamed back that he was okay and that he was learning to swim. Both of them cringed as they heard Alfonso guffaw loudly and watched as he shook his head, walking off towards the station.

“Well, we’re nearly there, Link!” She loosened her grip on his left hand, moving to clasp his wrist instead, “I’m barely holding onto you! You’re doing it! You’re swimming!”

And he gave her the biggest smile he could, as she slowly let go, wading backwards, and he swam by himself towards her, for the very first time.

Suddenly, the idea of doing this again was no longer so horrifying.

What was there to worry about when he had Zelda, his partner, his best friend, by his side?

[ardenssolis]

@caemthe​ said (inbox):

[ cú, fantasy v. ] "You used to be nicer..." The words were thrown in the air, not meant to taunt the other man. He was making an observation on what he had picked up during his brief stay. An observation he didn't put much thought on as soon he was crossing his arms, pretending to be annoyed. "For example, you used to welcome me with open arms and listen to every interesting thing I did in my homeland." Though, back when he still was a pup, it was he who would get all bright-eyed and rush to greet the prince. He also remembered lying on their lap to take a nap whenever he got too frustrated with the way nearly everyone treated him. But there was no way he would ever acknowledge doing something like that. "And now all I get is- See? You're doing it again! It's that 'this insufferable pup...' look again!"

     ❝HM? I AM STILL nice. I let you and that archer stay here free of board, do I not? You get to enjoy feasts, get nice, warm baths, and even have the most beautiful clothing at your disposal.❞ Although that archer from another land did not seem interested in the latter. The food and the baths, on the other hand, now that seemed to be a different story. That was probably the same with Cu for all he knew. ❝Anyway,❞ he continued, arms crossing over his chest, ❝from what I can recall, you used to run to me with your little arms outstretched and those tiny little shoes pattering on the floor. You were so adorable back then. So bright-eyed and affectionate. I think you charmed all who had a chance to speak to you.❞ Ah, those felt like far simpler days. He was still a prince and was just getting into his responsibilities, and though he was supposed to be wary of those from the Land of Wolves due to their cunning king, he did not dislike those who hailed from that land. The druids were interesting to talk to, and Conall and Cu were certainly the highlights of whatever diplomatic visits took place. His only regret was that he had not had much of a chance in seeing the other’s home with his own two eyes before that great disaster…

     ❝Where is that charm now? It is as if it just evaporated. You are no longer cute either.❞ He clicked his tongue, shaking his head a little. The other’s exclamation made him grin, mischief flaring within those golden eyes as that desire to further tease poked and nudged at him. ❝And I cannot help that you bark so loudly sometimes. Even now, half the castle probably can hear you. But anyway…if you desire for me to welcome you with ‘open arms’, then by all means.❞ He paused, holding his arms out to the other as if awaiting an embrace. ❝Come, come, let me hold you like I did when you were up to my knee, Little Wolf.❞

[amjustagirl]

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her. 

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance 

Wordcount: 7.8k 

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics. 

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!). 

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time. 

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out. 

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter. 

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball. 

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party. 

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.   

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back. 

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air. 

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory. 

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head. 

Why on earth did he agree to this again? 

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’ 

His glare softens by a fraction. 

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting. 

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here. 

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down. 

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’ 

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’ 

‘Hm.’ 

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’ 

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews)  when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey. 

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively. 

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender. 

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’ 

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’ 

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree - 

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek. 

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest. 

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness. 

Then he takes a breath. 

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end . 

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands. 

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn. 

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts. 

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders. 

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even  worse . 

Much, much worse. 

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand. 

He ends up face planting directly into her chest. 

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – , 

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.  

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt. 

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.  

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed. 

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.  

He takes her hand with a rare smile. 

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband. 

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees. 

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough. 

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product. 

He appreciates that. 

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal. 

He likes that. 

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify. 

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.  

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules. 

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer. 

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls. 

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently. 

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings. 

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.   

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together. 

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes.  He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so  I  know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’ 

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ 

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb. 

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks. 

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’  on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread  the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way. 

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod. 

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other. 

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north. 

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself. 

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant. 

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course. 

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night. 

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’ 

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands. 

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence. 

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’ 

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify. 

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’ 

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘ 

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle. 

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind. 

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’. 

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze. 

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before. 

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze. 

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant. 

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways. 

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day. 

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on. 

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially. 

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’ 

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.  

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time. 

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands. 

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.  

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss. 

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her. 

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain. 

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars. 

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’ 

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up. 

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer. 

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air. 

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands. 

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look. 

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either. 

He finds himself wondering about them. 

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text. 

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?  

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two? 

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion. 

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’. 

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.  

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him? 

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers. 

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card. 

Oikawa Tooru . 

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’ 

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further. 

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’ 

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer. 

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’   

He blinks. That was unexpected. 

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ 

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance. 

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt. 

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb. 

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’. 

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’ 

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined. 

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache. 

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’. 

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘ 

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance. 

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause. 

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.  

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her. 

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground. 

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales. 

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’. 

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.    

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because  you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him. 

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips. 

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips. 

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no  – it’s always going to point towards her. 

They move in together after that. 

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards. 

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.  

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife. 

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.  

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while. 

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep. 

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much. 

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh  - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.  

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’ 

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold. 

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning. 

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob. 

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly. 

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other. 

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell. 

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’ 

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes. 

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way. 

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back. 

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’. 

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them. 

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.  

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in - 

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their  genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place. 

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open. 

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’. 

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.  

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal. 

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat. 

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath. 

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.   

He waits. 

Then his phone buzzes. 

Ah. 

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back  home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.  

“Omi?” 

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first. 

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind. 

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.  

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what  I  want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’. 

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.  

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’ 

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles. 

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.  

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date. 

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again. 

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two. 

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.  

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more. 

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party. 

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association. 

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread. 

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name. 

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make. 

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’. 

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake. 

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out -  pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead. 

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability. 

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’ 

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.   

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud. 

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.  

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser. 

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist: 

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius​ (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)

[its-warm-in-here]

Playing Pretend

I’m sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I gutted the end but here’s the first part of the first chapter of a Heisenberg x reader fic that will probably go on too long. This is more of a prolog. No smut yet! Written with a female reader in mind, but I may have versions for both m and f when the final product goes up. Gonna start out kinda fluffy before we get darker. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

Summary: This summer trip to Romania was supposed to be momentous, life changing, and the bases for your master’s thesis. Too bad the villagers want you gone and this ‘Mother Miranda’ won't even see you. Luckily, you run into a greasy engineer who says he can help.

Or

Karl tries to take a day off from being ‘Lord Heisenberg’ with the cute stranger who wandered into the village. Things only spiral from there.

~2080 words

Miranda loved the yearly festivals. She always made a big show of the village, flowers and banners everywhere. The townsfolk would bring out their best clothing, even if their best was still black and brown. The dreary village would come alive with drinking, dancing and merry making. Even some of the neighboring villages would join in the festivities. The town would be near bustling, the local tavern would be full, laughter and song would echo from the church to the castle.

He hated it. All of it. Heisenberg avoided the celebrations, instead opting to stay holed up in his factory as much as possible. And it wasn't just because of the excess of people, while that didn't help. No, it was an insidious purpose for these gatherings. He exhaled a ring of cigar smoke.

First, boost morale through the village and reaffirm the people's faith in Mother Miranda. Second, and far more insidious, was to widen the flock, to expand her influence and bring in new blood for her experiments. The surrounding towns were just as small and removed from the rest of the world as Miranda's village. Made it easy to bring new blood under her wing. Youth would meet and marry, a drunk or four would go missing, and some of the visitors would become new members of Miranda's community. More meat for her Cadou grinder.

Heisenberg flicked the ash from his cigar and watched it float down before the wind caught it. The early morning view from the top of his factory wasn't bad. It was his own part of the world: no view of the village, the stench of the reservoir was nonexistent, and the most he could see of Castle Dimitrescu was a massive wall keeping their territory separated. Just him and his machines. He took another puff. As much as he planned to avoid today, Heisenberg knew that he would have to make at least some appearance. All the Lords did, even if it was just for a moment. Just another way to show her power; having all of her ‘children’ before the townsfolk. He grimaced at the thought. Târgul de Fete was set to start soon. At least that gave him the morning to get shit done. Heisenberg kicked a bit of metal scrap off the roof and it bounced off the scrap heap below with a ping! before landing in the dirt. He rolled his shoulder. Time to get to work.

---

"Well fuck you too!" You slammed the door behind you.  Why even bother going through the proper channels? No matter what, they turn you down, tell you to leave and treat you like an outcast. You spoke to towns folk, to village leaders, hell, you even wanted an audience with their 'Mother Miranda,' but she refused to even see you! You stormed along the path and the few people that had not made their way to the Târgul de Fete celebration steered clear of you, opting to give you a side eye and shuffle to their destination. All you wanted was to observe their festival, and maybe take a few pictures, but even that was negotiable. You had even offered to leave your camera behind with them for the day. Why hadn't you gone to Sweden with the rest of your class? No, instead you went to some culty, backwater town in Romania!

You kicked a rock, hard, sending it flying into the tall grass. "God Damnit!" This was supposed to have been your thesis! Supposed to be life changing! No, now you were just stuck, miles from any true civilization and being kicked out of some stupid, ramshackle heap, whose plants can't even grow right in a Romanian summer. Some of the plants were barely green, most appeared dry or yellowing. The flowers were either wilted and falling apart or hadn't even bloomed. You were no botanist, but you were certain that wasn't healthy.

You kicked another rock, it soared through the grass, but it struck something metal this time before landing with a thud. They didn't want you here, didn't want you at Târgul de Fete? Fine, but they didn't take your camera. Without thinking, you dug the old DSLR out of your bag and snapped a picture of the church.

And immediately deleted it.

You signed. Even if the villagers were a bunch of jackasses, this was their culture and they made it very clear that you were not welcome. Even if they had agreed to all this three months ago. And even if they had called you a bad omen, a poison and a danger to the whole village.  You weren't about to infringe. Crestfallen, you huffed your bag over your shoulder and began the trek back out of town. It was at least a four hour walk to your rental car and a good chunk of that walk was more of a hike. Not like there was much you could do other than leave after cussing out the town speakers and nearly slamming the door off its hinges.

The village had felt abandoned when you walked in, and now that everyone had headed off to a celebration, the village was positively desolate. No traditional brightly-colored dresses or intricate belts to be seen. And no wary or hostile glares from the inhabitants either. It was... quiet. Aside from the occasional crow, you might as well have been in a ghost town. It took you a bit to find the correct path out of the grave yard, but after spinning in circles for a good moment, you pushed past a red door and were back on your way. The village wasn't large, most of the paths were poorly maintained and the whole place was enveloped in a strange fish smell.

You bit the inside of your cheek. This was a good thing, really. Who would've wanted to stay in the ramshackle place for more than a few hours, let alone a few days? You groaned and kicked at the ground again. While not lacking in repellent attributes, the pagan worship of the place fascinated you.  They had their own religion but had incorporated traditional Romania holidays into their culture. Where else in Europe could you see that happen in real time? Of course, you could think of a couple of places, but you had picked here in the Carpathian mountains in particular! While you did have a second choice, you couldn't stop the self pity from setting in.

Ugh.

The village was relatively small and was quickly fading to forest, the castle that overlooked the town vanished behind you as you shuffled down a particularly steep part of the path. The trees here looked more normal, less sickly. While it was only marginally, you felt a bit better, a bit less mad. Stepping away from that place was a breath of fresh air.

Your boots skid a bit as you reach a flat spot. With a huff, you grip both backpack straps to center yourself.  If this couldn't be your thesis, that didn't mean you had to hate the walk. This was Romania afterall, when was the next time you were going to be here? The sky may be overcast, but it sort of added to the eerie charm of this place. You sidestepped your way down another steep incline, using one hand to grip overgrown branches for balance. The last step is a bit further, but you find your footing easily.

And the rock gave way under you, tilting forward with an abrupt grinding sound. A burst of panicked adrenaline rushed through as you struggled to stop. You pitch forward, stumbling over branches and underbrush, your eyes forcibly losing focus.

"The fuck?"

That wasn't your voice. You slammed full force into something, another body? And it gives under you. The other person takes the brunt of the fall, landing on their back with a distinct, "oof."

For a moment, you don't speak, too focused on catching the breath. Finally, your vision swims back and you find your voice, "Damnit... are you ok?"

The man under you goans, sitting half way up to look you over. His hair is grey, and a bit too long, but he couldn't be any older than forty, possibly younger. "Get off." Your eyes go wide and that panicked beat fills your chest. "Ya deaf? Off."

"Er, right," you scramble to your feet and, without thinking, extend a hand to the stranger, "Sorry about... that." You gestured vaguely to the path. "Lost my balance."

He lets out an exasperated huff, and knocks your hand away. For a moment, he doesn't acknowledge you, instead retrieving something from the grass behind him. He's wearing a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up with black leather gloves. You force yourself to look somewhere, anywhere else, nervously bouncing from foot to foot. When he turns back to you, he has a tattered, wide brim hat in place and is looking over a pair of broken sunglasses. One of the lenses was clearly shattered, but he hooked them over his shirt collar, his attention finally turning to you. "You're not from around here, huh?”

You couldn't help but snort, "What gave it away, the wind breaker? Don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" He repeats.

You start moving back to the path. "Yup, your village speaker has made that very clear."

"They were clear? Not all back and forth on it?" He chuckles, "That's impressive, they must really not like you."

You stare at him, was this a friendly face? It was certainly a handsome face, even with scarring and stubble. But a trustworthy one? "You sure you're ok? Didn't scramble that brain when I ran into you? The rest of the town was pretty dead set on driving me out."

" 'Cause they're a bunch of morons, sweetheart," he insisted, "All part of Mother Miranda's big, idiot mob."

"Huh," you are walking ahead on the path, and he's not but a footfall behind you.

"But they don't matter."

"No?"

"What matters is, why didn't they want you here?"

You stop, turning to face this stranger. He was gruff, and more than a little rude, but in comparison to the townsfolk, he was downright friendly. Hell, you were surprised he was so forward with you.  "Masters thesis," you put plainly, hoping he'll leave it at that.

"On what?"

"Anthropology."

He leaned in close. He wasn't that much taller than you, but you couldn't help but move away from his imposing figure. From this distance, you could smell motor oil and some kind of smoke on his clothes. "That's it?" You scoff, the sooner you are back in your car the better. "I just mean, it's surprising they'd want you gone. You sure there's nothing else? Didn't kick over any goat statues?"

"Not that I noticed," you started back down the path. You'd wasted too much time talking to this weirdo anyway. Just based on his demeanor and dislike of the rest of the village, you wonder if you'd maybe tripped over the town pariah. He certainly wasn't dressed like anyone else from the village.

"I could get you back in."

You stopped, not fifteen feet from him. "You're assuming I want to go back in." And didn’t you? You just risk getting yelled at again. But if there was a chance to write your thesis...

“Well, if you're not interested,” he turned to leave. You grit your teeth, your nails digging deep into your backpack straps.

“Hold up!" It doesn't take much to catch up to him. "How exactly are we going to do this?"

"My word carries a certain amount of weight," he carried on, "Though,  the village doesn't meet on these matters till next week."

"But what good does that-"

He isn't listening, "For today, I know a place you can watch the town. Besides, you're an Archeologist, you probably want an interview, right?" Of course he gestures to himself with a sort of half bow.

You roll your eyes, but still follow, "Anthropologist." He gives you a blank look. "I'm studying Anthropology, not Archeology."

He doesn't seem to care, instead pulling a cigar and lighter from his pants pocket. "Got a name?"

"Oh, (y/n). You?"

The stranger is part way up on the path you had tripped down. "Karl," he had extended you a gloved hand. You look from him to his hand, before brushing past him, pulling yourself up next to him without the offered aid.

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021

Hello! This is my first recs list so I’m not sure if I’ve done this correctly, but here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the first quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Seokjin

golden boy @kpopfanfictrash​

summary: The golden boy of the porn industry, prettier than half his female co-stars. Will sue if you pull his hair. Always bothering his neighbors with pizza delivery.

Yoongi

finding big foot @bloomsuga​

summary:  you set out to hike the pacific crest trail in search of yourself… instead you found him

Jimin

steamy waters @oftenderweapons-a-companion​

summary:  it’s been a while since Jimin has returned from the tour. Princess is supposed to meet with Vixen and Lace — Girls’ Night squad is back — for dinner and is missing only a few details before leaving when Jimin presents his counterarguments. Too benevolent to leave him sulking — and too vulnerable to his charms — Princess decides she has enough time to indulge him. Of course she ends up being late to the appointment, but she’s not the only one.

Taehyung

the snow king @/bloomsuga

summary: cursed to freeze anything he touches, prince taehyung built a castle of ice to keep everyone else out. what he didn’t plan on? you getting in

enemy @btssmutgalore

summary:  Taehyung may be cocky, but he has every reason to be. After all, he never gets turned down by women – at least not until he meets you.

Jungkook

ancient history @moononthejoon​

summary:  there is no way to deny that you and Jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

bound @/btssmutgalore

ASK: Imagine Koo on his knees in front of you so that you can bury your fingers in his now blonde hair and pull his head back so he looks all vulnerable and ready to be devoured by you with his throat exposed. Oh, did I mention that his hands are tied behind his back in red silk and you stripped him of his shirt? Have fun with that mental image!

viki & hickeys @1kook​

summary: Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

gold rush @venusiangguk​

summary: jk comes back from a weekend away and he wants to show you just how much he missed you.

teeth @sweetbunnykook​

summary: Your obedient servant has a craving only you can satiate.

oops wrong wedding @ppersonna

summary: jungkook drives you to the wrong wedding

bad behavior @noteguk

summary: in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.

bad influence ^

summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

after hours @zibermuda​

summary: after your boss hires a second assistant, you feel the pressure of being outperformed more now than ever. A blind date, a tight skirt, and a cup of jealously is the perfect recipe to bake a your-boss-fucks-you-against-your-desk-because-you’re-his-favourite-assistant cake. How sweet!

concrete king @bratkook​

summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could you ever say no to him

OT7

nutjobs @ironicarmy

summary: Eight friends. One terrible idea. A whole lot of trouble. Welcome to No Nut November.

Namjoon

cinderella!joon @jinpanman​

will you let me? @/bratkook

summary:  Namjoon wants nothing more than to see you stuffed full of his cum, and as his mind starts to wander with thoughts of the future, he has to know if you’d let him.

Jungkook

swipe right @/ppersona

summary:  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, Jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

another taste @/bratkook

summary:  full of adrenaline after a show, Jungkook just wants to see you fall apart on his tongue.

Yoongi

of fire and love @hollyhomburg

summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Namjoon

break up with your girlfriend @lovetrivia

summary: After his long time girlfriend, Yuri, rejects his proposal and confesses to cheating on him, the two “go on a break”. However, a beautiful student retaking the Human Sexuality class he TAs for may be the breaking point.

heated @joonsgalore

summary: Namjoon is your own personal living, breathing, walking furnace.

fool for you @cutechim

summary:  he may be your best friend, but he’s still only second best.

lost in the funhouse @dovechim​

prisoner!namjoon au

Jungkook

commercial break; eight @/1kook

summary: You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.

e2l!jungkook ^

summary:  e2l jungkook checking out his annoying ass coworker

piece of you @dntaewithluv

summary:  After three months of pining over the cute delivery boy, as well as ordering a questionable amount of pizza, you decide to finally shoot your shot with him by slipping him your number during one of his deliveries. When Jungkook actually takes you up on your offer and calls you on a Friday night to see if you have plans, you’re quick to invite him over. Seeing the blonde haired beauty at your door with pizza and beer in hand makes you think maybe you’re in for something a little extra tonight, and that for once it won’t just be the cheese on the pizza.

thirty four, thirty five @sunshinekims

summary: you and jungkook had two rules in your apartment: no stealing clothes and no hooking up with each other…too bad you guys broke both of those rules because of a TikTok trend. or was it all bad? you’re certainly not complaining, especially if it means you getting with your roommate. roomies to lovers! au

sweeter than sugar @jungkxook​

summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before

[minart-was-taken]

Sort of continuation of this, but it also does stand on it’s own!

Title: A small problem Characters: Ravio, Wind, Minish and Legend Includes threats of violence “Tags:” First meetings - No-one is sure what they’re doing but that’s ok - Zelda shows up!

Enjoy!

Ravio was speechless, a little scared, but most powerfully: mesmerized. Two kids, clearly younger than him and both with bright blond locks that rivaled the sun, were engaged in combat.

Although fists were flying, neither had landed a single hit. When the older one, who he had dubbed Mr. Sailor, threw a hit, the younger one, Mr. Small, would live up to his nickname and shrink to a very small size.

He’d then unshrink, throw a hit himself, and miss as the other pulled quite the leap to get away.

Ravio was simply waiting for one of them to land a hit, and for the situation to escalate badly, as he was too afraid to intervene.

Another crack followed then, they were starting to give Ravio a headache.

From it appeared a pink haired boy, tallest of the people present. He blinked in surprise, glancing around.

His appearance seemed to distract the coat wearing boy, who ended up getting decked in the face and fell over shouting “SHIT!” very loudly.

“Oh my.” Signed the newest arrival, looking at the situation before him with wide eyes. “Am I interrupting something?”

“I’m glad you are.” Ravio responded, walking over to the seemingly sane one, although staying from stabbing range just in case. “I’ve been trying to get these two to stop fighting for ages!”

“No you haven’t!” Grumbled the kid slowly getting himself back from the ground, while the smaller one stood smugly nearby.

“Do I look like someone who could stop a fist fight with force?” Ravio pointed out. “Neither of you listened to reason, so I simply was waiting for an opening.”

“An opening for what?”

He hadn’t had a proper plan. “Why would I tell that? You might fight again and I don’t want you to know what to expect.” However they did not have to know about that.

“Why were they fighting?” the pink one asked.

“He started it.” Coat boy complained.

“Ah. Uhm.” Ravio scratched the back of his head: “From what I could tell, I was simply talking to Mr. Sailor here, then the small one appeared from the bushes and kicked him in the back of the knee.”

“But why?”

“I’m not quite sure.” Ravio confessed.

The stranger tilted his head, confused, before turning to look at the small smug one. “Could you tell us now?”

The very small one scoffed, but signaled for them to follow.

They were in the yard of a small house, and near the window was a little patch of what looked more like weeds than anything else. The kid pointed at one of the weeds that had been very slightly stood upon.

The pink haired one understood, his fist meeting his palm in understanding. “It’s not nice to trample on other people’s plants, Mr. Sailor.”

Coat boy crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I just appeared right there! I would’ve moved if I knew I was standing on a plant.”

“It’s just a big misunderstanding then.” The pink one nodded, kneeling down to be the smallest one’s height. “Next time try to tell him to move before kicking him, okay?”

Mr. Small looked unimpressed, but nodded.

Ravio was just confused as to why anyone would care about such an useless patch of plants. The only valuable thing lost here was a possible alliance between the two small ones.

Kids, oh so dumb. Ravio smiled to himself.

“When you said you appeared-” the Pink one spoke again, standing up and turning to the sailor. “Was it like how I did?”

Mr. Sailor nodded. “Yeah. One moment I was just hammering some nails and suddenly I’m here. Being kicked in the back of my knee. By the smallest bokoblin I’ve ever seen.”

The small one raised a fist, but the pink one grabbed it mid air, and held it still. The small one seemed shocked that someone could- Or more likely- Would try and stop him.

“Oh sorry, I meant rat.” Said the sailor, sticking his tongue out.

“Please stop antagonizing the small child with a sword.” Ravio said in a hushed voice.

The small one was too entranced by having been stopped to care, simply staring at the pink one with wide eyes.

“Huh. What a strange situation.” The pink one continued, ignoring the general chaos. “Well, I suppose if we’re all in it, we should get to know one another. My name is Link. Spelt L-I-N-K”

The smallest one pointed at himself, all the while Mr. Sailor gasped: “Wait- That’s my name too.”

Ravio felt himself tense up a bit, what he had been suspecting was indeed going on, wasn’t it?

The house that looked eerily like the one Link lived in, then there was the clear fact he was in Hyrule, and that there were people who looked eerily like Link but weren’t him…

Oh great goddess of lorule, take him back home please. This is not ideal.

“Hm…” The pink one pondered. “This seems like it’d mean something significant.”

You think? Ravio raised a brow, before shaking off the questioning look to smile politely like a good salesman. “Link isn’t the most common name, so I have to agree.”

He walked closer to the pink one, mostly certain he wouldn’t stab him. With a hand on his back, he continued. “The only Link I know of is the legendary hero of hyrule! It’d be ridiculous for him to be here, though, wouldn’t it?”

“I am he.” Mr. Sailor said.

The tall one blinked at that. “But.. So am I?”

The smallest one dug through his pockets, and pulled out a small note, handing it to Ravio.

Ravio read it out loud to everyone: “Link is the hero of Hyrule, and is allowed to do what he sees fit in order to keep the country safe. Signed, Princess Zelda.”

“...We can’t all be heroes of Hyrule.” Mr. Sailor complained. “And I know for one that I’m not lying, so.”

“There isn’t just one, though.” Ravio spoke up. “Legends speak of a hero in green who appeared centuries ago, perhaps he too had someone before him, and there was someone after.”

“Centuries, though.” Mr. Sailor pointed out, “Do I look a hundred years old to you?”

The smallest one nodded, but Ravio shook his head.

“I’ve heard of stranger things than time travel, in these lands.” Ravio stated.

“I suppose it is a plausible theory.” The pink one pondered, hand on chin. “I know I’m not lying either.”

“And the small one has a letter from the princess.”

“It could be forged.” The sailor pointed out.

Ravio wanted to point out he could tell a forgery from the real thing pretty easily, and had seen enough of Hilda’s writing to know how the royal family conducts it’s deeds. However, that’d make him seem kind of suspicious. “We could go and find out?” Ravio decided to ask instead.

“How?”

“This is clearly the small one’s home, if these are his plants. So this is his Hyrule.” Ravio explained. “Let’s go to the castle, and if the kid is allowed in, it means it’s not forged.”

“I suppose that’s a fair plan.” The pink replied. “And since neither of us are apparently lying, if the letter is real, then- Er, what’s your name?”

“I’m Ravio.” He responded, “The greatest merchant around.”

“Okay- It’s nice to meet you.” The pink one smiled. “Then if all of us are Link like we claim, Ravio’s theory was right.”

“Or some form of it.” Ravio specified.

The pink one nodded. “Very well, little one, could you take us to the castle?”

The smallest one pouted, but began leading the way.

“Holy fuck!” The sailor gasped, looking at the castle once it appeared in the horizon, standing tall yet- A little smaller than Ravio had expected.

The smallest one grinned smugly, walking at a pace more akin to jogging to stay in front of the taller people.

“It’s quite small.” The pink one commented.

“I do agree.” Ravio nodded. “The one I’ve seen is certainly larger.”

“It looks funny.” The pink one smiled, maybe even a little smug.

Ravio took note of it, but did not comment on it.

“So.” The pink one continued. “Your name is Ravio?”

“Like I said, yes.” He nodded. “Are you interested in my wares? I don’t have much on me due to the sudden departure but-”

“Not Link.” He stopped Ravio. “Yet you look a tad like us.”

Ravio blinked, breathing hitched. He missed his hood, but he had been in lorule- He doesn’t need that in Lorule! In Lorule he’s one of a kind!

“I suppose destiny can have a bit of a slip up here and there?” Ravio suggested. Sorry Link, he’d have to steal your identity for a bit here. “I assure you, however, just because I cannot wield a blade does not make me completely useless.”

The pink one simply kept smiling. “Very well, then.”

He hadn’t bought it, had he? Ravio yelled internally, but tried to keep the relaxed facade up.

The castle town was very cute, the sailor looking around with wide eyes, looking like he was taking many internal notes.

What caught Ravio’s eye however, happened a bit later. The smallest showed the letter to a guard by the castle gates, the guard simply sighed, said: “Follow me,” and started walking further into the castle grounds.

“That’s a lot to process.” The pink one spoke again. Ravio had to agree.

They were led to a room to wait- A waiting room, you could say- For the princess to get ready for guests. It matched all the Hyrule castles Ravio had seen, that being one. Stone brick all about, a polished but a little cold interior, with the triforce ever present in all decor.

There were paintings present as well. They seemed to capture the curiosity of all visitors, much to the delight of the smallest one’s ego.

Ravio focused at first on one depicting the princess, she looked similar to the Zelda of the Hyrule he knew, but clearly another person entirely.

He then chose to take a look at the others in their impromptu party, and found the pink one standing under a portrait of  what was likely another hero of courage, this one standing tall with a flowing white cape, and a small red bird on his shoulder.

The sight awakened a memory in Ravio, and he found himself suddenly plunged into a mystery.

There was a mural in his Link’s hyrule castle, one depicting the hero prior to him. Zelda had joked to him and Hilda about how she had read the hero actually had pink hair, but the artists took creative liberties and made it dark blond instead.

This couldn’t be the man who sealed Ganon away, was it? Certainly there had been more than one pink haired Link.

Then again, they seemed to be in a situation which included traveling through space and time. Guess that might as well be a detail.

A guard soon showed up, expressing that the princess was ready.

They headed to the throne room. It was bold, large and voices echoed within it. The large windows made it feel slightly less like a scary space, but it did still make him grow a bit uneasy.

In Front of the aforementioned throne, stood the princess, with a bright but curious smile.

“Link, I didn’t know you had made friends!”

The small one tried to hide in his cape, but was unsuccessful.

“It’s very nice to meet you all.” Zelda smiled brightly, as the boys bowed. Ravio hadn’t been sure if that was to be expected, but the smallest one did have a blade and seemed to be satisfied with them bowing, so perhaps it was a good choice.

The pink one took charge soon after, explaining the predicament they found themselves in. Or at least, theorized they did.

“Oh my.” Zelda gasped. “The hero’s spirit will reincarnate this much?! That’s quite saddening.”

“Has the legend of the hero not existed for long here?” The pink one asked.

“We only know of one before Link here.” Zelda explained. “The hero who arrived from the skies to seal away the great evil, so that humanity could return to the lands below.” She said, clearly quoting something.

“...I guess the seal didn’t last.” Zelda added sadly.

The small one rushed over to her, and offered his hand to her. She took hold of it, and smiled with thankfulness in her eyes at the kid.

“Well, if any of you are like Link here, Hyrule is in good hands.” She smiled again. “I wish I could help more though. I’m not sure at all what could be going on, or what to do about it.”

“Do you have time travel items, or something? Getting home would be nice.” The sailor asked.

“I can ask for research on the topic to be conducted.” Zelda nodded. “Until then, you may stay at the castle, if you’d like.”

“Thank you very much, your highness.” The pink- Okay, he needed a nickname, Ravio decided. Whether he was the legendary hero or not, calling him Mr. Legend should help butter the guy up for possible sales, anyway.

With that, they were led to a guest room. Ravio was both deeply glad they hadn’t been paired up, as every pairing seemed like a bad idea, but was also absolutely terrified of sharing a room with three swordsmen he barely knew. They were also given instructions on how to get to both the castle library and the town’s library. Information which Ravio decided to make use of the next day.

It was fine really, and the beds were very comfortable! It seemed the spirit of the hero made them all sleepy as hell, as well. So getting stabbed seemed unlikely. However one thing still kept Ravio up that night.

“Bunnies, dark hair…” Mr. Legend had signed to him, when it was just the two of them, the sun having started to settle for the night “It reminds me of a place.”

“Oh, heh. A place, huh?” Ravio chuckled nervously. He didn’t like being put on the spot without a plan.

“It was a dreadful place.” Mr. Legend stated. “I hope you’re not related to it in some way.”

“I sure hope so too?” Ravio stumbled to find the words:“It sounds much worse than Hyrule. Love this place, the grass is very green. Smells great.”

“I hope so too.” Mr. Legend smiled, a strange dead look in his eyes. “I don’t want to take another life.”

Then he just started talking about how he liked apples.

So, it would’ve been stranger if Ravio wasn’t having trouble sleeping!

Oh, goddesses above, help him.