#it seems the other crows don’t let him interact with them one to one

[likahble]

in order to be the in camp asshole division of my blorbos you have to be a hater with principles. would this guy mercilessly mock the people they love? yes. would they do it to such a relentless extent that said family/found family may question that they even Like them (only for Character to make a sort of big selfless sacrifice for them)? yes. would they be respectful to a customer service worker? also yes.

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 4

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: ~2.4k

cw: angst, flirty rafayel but he’s suspicious, em and reader argue but make up, reader wears a dress, existentialism, nero’s at the beginning and he’s really shy, implied stalking, existentialism part 2, envy, idk reader is having a crisis in every part i feel like you know the drill by now

Synopsis: You’re getting used to life in Linkon, used to the Hunter’s Association working alongside Nero, used to coming home with Em. You’re slightly panicked about your interactions with Zayne and Xavier, but as long as you don’t meet any other Love Interests, it should be fine, right? Just one problem: you and Em were invited to a certain artist’s newest exhibit, and he seems interested in something more than explaining his vision.

author’s note: I love writing Rafayel so much he’s so fun! I’m really looking forward to the next part with a certain crow. I’m trying to slowly escalate things, am I doing a good job? Eh, we’ll see. I’m trying not to pit Em and Reader against each other but I also have to create some sort of tension between them for it to make sense soooo oh well. I still don’t know how many parts this will be or how I’m gonna end it :( let me know if y’all have any ideas, ending or just random plot points! You can send an ask or leave a comment <3

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa

Series Masterlist

“Hey, Nero, what do you think of this dress?” You turned your phone around to show him a picture of you in a flattering navy dress. It showed more of your body than the clothes you frequently wore to the Association, which clearly caught Nero by surprise given the dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Uh, it’s very…” he stuttered as his cheeks grew redder and redder. He finally glanced away from you and the picture. “You look very pretty,” he muttered.

You turned the phone back around, looking at the picture yourself. “Do you think it’s alright for a fancy art exhibit? I don’t want to look out of place,” you explained.

Nero shook his head softly. “You look perfect.” His eyes widened. “I mean, it’s perfect! I didn’t— I wasn’t— I’m not flirting with you!” He dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry.” His words were muffled.

You laughed, causing him to turn his head and peek at you through his hands. “It’s alright, Nero. And thank you.” You smiled, and he looked back away. You stood up, ruffling his hair as you walked away. “You’re so cute, Nero.” You heard him make a small squeak of surprise before you shut the door.

Quickly making your way through the Hunter’s Association, you dodged carts and hunters in different sections. Research, medic, combat, until finally you reached the rows of desks and cubicles belonging to the Hunters.

The layout of the Hunter’s Association was much harder to learn than your apartment. Which made sense, of course. An entire corporation is obviously more complex than a simple two bedroom apartment.

It was unnecessarily complicated, though, you thought. Research was so secluded from the rest of the employees, and the setup for Hunters was so messy. You understood that they weren’t at their desks often, instead off on missions, but it was still ridiculous.

Luckily, Em’s desk was easy to find; Just look for the smaller claw machine plushies she proudly displayed. Catching sight of Artsy Birb, you weaved through desks and Hunters alike before standing in front of Em. You drummed your fingers on her desk, waiting for her to finish typing before you spoke. When she stopped and looked at you, you took it as your cue.

“So, about this art exhibit tonight,” you began.

“Oh, yeah!” Em smiled. “I think it starts at around eight o’clock. Something about the night emphasizing the beauty of the art or whatever.” She waved her hand carelessly. “We can get dinner before hand! It’s been a while since we had a fancy night out,” she said excitedly.

You grinned. “Alright, but I don’t know if I can afford too fancy.”

“I know,” Em groaned. “Our humble hunters’ salary can barely get us our dresses for tonight.” She rolled her eyes.

“Do you think we need to leave early? How far away is this exhibit?” you asked.

Em shrugged noncommittally. “It shouldn’t take too long. I don’t think we’ll need to leave early.”

It was 6:00 by the time you left the Association.

It took the both of you around an hour to get ready despite rushing.

It was 7:20 by the time you left the apartment.

“I knew we should have left earlier,” you muttered.

Em scoffed. “Well, why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’re the one who knew where we had to go!” Your hands tightened against the steering wheel. “Why wouldn’t I trust your judgment?”

Em huffed, looking out the passenger window. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

You sighed, making another turn. Em looked at you hesitantly, A few minutes passed in silence.

“I’m sorry!”she blurted out.

You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye. “I am, too,” you agreed.

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have gotten mad.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“You had every right to, though.” Her shoulders slumped. “Do you hate me now?” She looked to you with wide eyes.

“No,” you murmured. “Bonds can’t be so easily broken.”

The crash of waves could barely be heard over the loud chatter of the exhibition. Moonlight poured in from the windowed ceilings, casting an ethereal light on the paintings displayed.

When you’d first arrived, you hovered around Em. You let her take control of social situations like she always did, offering polite smiles and nods whenever you were briefly addressed. Although she didn’t know much about art, she certainly knew people. She gracefully navigated each interaction, and you felt like you were scrambling to catch up, trying to not be left behind.

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d gotten separated, but you managed to find a part of the exhibit that didn’t receive as much traffic. There were only a handful of people within sight, each in their own worlds. You weren’t approached, weren’t tugged along to be introduced to anyone knew, weren’t pressured to socialize. You felt your the pressure in your chest ease as you observed the swirl of colors on the canvas before you.

The canvas, despite being startling in size, was one of the smaller ones on display. You suspected that was why there weren’t as many people gathered around it as some of the other, larger paintings. It wasn’t as eye-catching, didn’t take up as much space as some of the others.

Something you understood more than you’d like to admit.

It was beautiful, though, blues and pinks mixing and mingling in perfect harmony. There were flashes of brighter colors here and there, like the deep red interspersed throughout. You knew nearly all of the paintings here depicted the sea, but there was something different about this one. You didn’t think it was the ocean, but something else.

Something familiar. Something mysterious.

“Do you like that one?” A voice came from behind you.

You turned, breath catching as you immediately caught sight of purple hair. You tilted your chin to meet his eyes, a similar swirl of blue and pink to the painting in front of you.

He was taller than you expected. You’d known Xavier and Zayne were tall, and they certainly acted like it, but there was something about him that didn’t seem to carry that height. Like he tried to make himself smaller, easier to fit.

Against your better judgment, you smiled, offering a slight nod.

Maybe it’s best not to say much this time.

He nodded approvingly. “So do I. Haven’t seen many people stop in front of it, though.” He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as you both faced the painting. He leaned closer to your ear. “I’m Rafayel, by the way.”

You swallowed thickly. “I know.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean—” You cursed yourself internally for not just introducing yourself. “It’s just that your friends with my roommate, so I know who you are,” you explained.

He nodded in understanding. “I know who you are, too.” When he caught sight of your widened eyes, he chuckled. “What kind of friend would I be to Em if I didn’t even know who her roommate was?”

It sounded like such a casual comment, not something to linger on, but you knew: He knew who you were because he’d been stalking Em. It was a plot point in Love and Deepspace, how had you forgotten that?

And just how much did he know?

“Are you looking for her?” you asked. “Because I won’t be much help. I lost her a while ago.”

Rafayel shook his head softly. “No, she’s somewhere over there.” He made a vague motion towards the main room of the exhibit. “I think she was talking to Thomas. For some reason.” You didn’t notice his watchful eyes on you as you laughed at his exaggerated expression. “No, I’m much more interested in you,” he murmured with a teasing smile.

Despite your internal screams, you laughed lightly.

What does he mean interested?

You wouldn’t put it past him to try and get you on his side to get some more personal information on Em, what with the whole stalker thing and everything, but would he really need your help with that?

One thought came to your mind, though: Zayne and Xavier.

You knew Rafayel wore many masks, so he could just be charming as a means to an end, but the thought of the other Love Interests gave you pause. Something was clearly affected because of your presence here. They seemed more comfortable with you than with Em, but why was that?

Why should someone from an entirely different world forge a greater connection than a love across lifetimes?

You couldn’t deny it, though. There was something so comfortable when interacting with each of the Love Interests. You were immediately put at ease, like you were talking to a friend you’d known for years and not a man you’d only just been introduced to. It was as Zayne said: Like I’ve loved you before.

“Helloooo?” Rafayel lightly knocked on your forehead, bringing you back to the conversation in front of you.

“Sorry,” you muttered, averting your eyes. “Shouldn’t you be talking to patrons or something?”

“Nah,” he dismissed carelessly. “They only like my paintings because they’re popular.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. The ends of his lips threatened to curve upwards. “I’d much prefer to talk to someone that actually enjoys it and understands it.” Though he kept his eyes on you, Rafayel directed your gaze back to the canvas. “This piece is different from anything else I’ve painted. I always paint what I feel, but that afternoon I felt something shift. I wanted to paint the feeling.”

You nodded, enthralled by his explanation. The way he spoke was mesmerizing, intriguing, like he always aimed to leave you wanting more. “What happened that afternoon?”

“I actually don’t know,” he chuckled. “It was about a week ago. Or maybe it was two? It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “It must have been around lunchtime that I just felt something change. Like the universe was molding into something different.”

An afternoon a week or two ago?

Your chest tightened again.

That was when you first arrived in Linkon.

What if the universe was molding into something different to fit you?

“There you are!” Em’s voice rang through the exhibit, bright and cheery. You had to hold yourself back from groaning as she approached. Now was the perfect time for you to get more information from a Love Interest, but it was as if Em have a gravitational pull to each of them. She was constantly around them if she could be, unless she decided she didn’t want them.

They bent to her will, something you’d relate to but couldn’t fully understand. Why would they willingly have their hearts crushed? Each man knew at least one other Love Interest, knew there was competition, so why were they all so certain they would win her love? What would happen to those that didn’t?

“I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Em smiled, looking between you and Rafayel.

“Actually, we just met.” Rafayel slung a loose arm around you, a movement that seemed so practiced you barely even flinched. Em, however, did, something almost unreadable passing through her eyes. You tried to place it. Was it jealousy? Confusion? Whatever it was, it was gone nearly as soon as it appeared.

Em nodded, silence lingering for a moment too long. “Well, I think we should be getting home. It’s been a long week and I’m tired.” She made a show of sagging her shoulders, earning a laugh out of Rafayel that sounded ever so slightly forced to you.

You were probably just imagining it, right?

Em grabbed your arm, pulling you out of Rafayel’s grasp and next to her. He stumbled slightly but quickly recovered, his blinding smile appearing.

“Here, let me get your phone number.” At your raised eyebrow, he explained, “In case there’s something about Em we need to talk about.”

How were you supposed to argue with that? You took his phone without saying a word, trying to remember your number as you typed it. Finding yourself typing in your number from your other life, you quickly erased it, wondering how much of that you would remain after you got used to this life.

You handed it back, muttering a quick goodbye as Em swept you away. Rafayel watched you both as you left, his smile slowly dropping until you were out of sight.

Em drove home, a sort of tension in her that neither of you addressed. The ride was silent for the most part, save for some small bits of conversation here and there.

Why couldn’t you click with Em when you could with the Love Interests? What was so different?

The apartment was as dark as the night sky when you entered, flicking on the light and kicking your shoes off. You checked the clock.

Nearly midnight.

“I’m so glad we don’t have work tomorrow,” you groaned.

“I know!” Em kicked off her own heels, turning around in front of you. “Could you unzip me please?”

You murmured a quick yes and helped her out of her gown, thankful when she helped you with yours. There was an unspoken intimacy between you two that you’d notice grow as you spent more time together. It’d been so long since you’d had a friend so close by, you’d almost forgotten how to act.

As you slipped on a worn pair of sweatpants, your phone chimed with an unknown number.

hey cutie

dun forget me

if you do ill blow bubbles at you

Rafayel.

You stared at the message for what felt like forever.

How were you supposed to respond?

And who was he calling cutie?

You could hear Em in the living room, giggling over the phone. One of her reverse harem, you figured. Saying something sweet and flirty and acting dumb about it.

You loved Em. You did. It was hard not to. But there was still something so unnerving about her. She was made to be liked as a main character. It was all a script. Nothing felt genuine. Nothing felt real.

And then there was the envy.

Just like liking her, it was hard not to be envious of her. She had everything. A career, recognition, and so much love.

You knew she suffered, that there was so much trauma behind her smile, but it still resulted in so much happiness.

How come yours couldn’t?

Yours, that stuck behind you like a shadow, constantly looming.

A constant reminder.

You weren’t experimented on as a child, didn’t lose your best friend and your guardian in early adulthood. Your trauma wasn’t worse than Em’s, you thought.

So how come it affected you so much?

Where was your happiness?

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[kashedelic]

FORGOTTEN - sylus x reader

SUMMARY: Don't expect a lot from someone who hasn't explained a lot about how they don't want a lot from you.

NOTES: sylus x reader, first person pov, question marks for the relationship, angst, girl u got side-chicked, reader is NOT mc, not as angsty as I could make it icl.

wc: 2497

a/n: i got a boat load of things to be doing, but sometimes sylus needs to come first. someone please tag me in a good Sylus fic that'll heal btw, even if this wasn't angsty as I could have made it I still need to be giggling over something

Be sure to like, reblog, or even follow! Your support means everything to me and helps more people to find this story! Thank you for reading!

Love is a simple yet complex thing. It makes days feel like waltzes, despite the darkness itching at the seams and cracks of the world. It tells a tale of mellow, warm days, where the sun doesn’t burn but heals. That’s how it felt to be in love

That’s why, when I awoke each morning with darkness still pooling in my apartment - the billowy shadows, albeit smaller now with the faint morning light of the N109 Zone, dancing against the walls - and the sound of a crow at my window, I was okay. The ebony feathers and gleaming ruby eyes visible through the glass were my proof. I was not forgotten.

Opening the window, the crow cocked its head inquisitively, as though asking, Let me in, please!

“Come in,” I said, sliding the window open. The crow swooped in and perched on my bed frame.

“Running errands already, huh, Mephisto?” I chuckled dryly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. I gently scratched beneath its beak, earning a positive response from the bird.

With a sigh, I gathered my strength and moved to my closet, pulling out low-waisted baggy cargos and a fitted ribbed top. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “Tell Sylus he better be working when I get there - not passed out at his desk again.”

The image of Sylus asleep, cheek pressed against his knuckles, with soft snores escaping his lips, tugged my mouth into a smile. He could try to be inconspicuous, but on mornings when work demanded an early rise, his stoic demeanor softened into vulnerability. To others, it might not have seemed like much, but to me, it was enough to get moving.

When I reached the estate, Luke and Kieran waved me in, clearly still settling into the morning. Kieran was slumped on a couch while Luke mumbled something about not getting enough sleep and missing cereal. Familiar with their antics, I proceeded, leaving them to their misery.

“Sylus,” I called, a smile spreading across my face as I found him awake and working. “G’morning, boss.” The title slipped off my tongue easily - a term that had lost its seriousness, now laced with humor between us. Though our interactions were often work-related, there was a growing sense of familiarity. Shared jokes and casual banter hinted at something deeper.

He glanced up, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Good morning to you, too. Has the allure of work coffee dragged you in early?” His voice carried that low timbre that always caught me off guard.

I dropped into a leather armchair, resting my head in my hand. “Tempting, but no. I had a visitor this morning - a certain crow who seems to think I’m slacking.”

His smirk grew more pronounced. “Oh, is that so?”

“Don’t act coy,” I huffed.

“Caught red-handed,” he admitted with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Waking up early is one thing, but I should have a reason to wake up too, don’t you think?”

“Sylus, you’ve got a mountain of work to do,” I said, flustered, waving off his teasing.

“Work always waits for the boss, doesn’t it?” he quipped back.

After a bit more banter, I decided coffee was in order. Rising from the armchair, I motioned toward the door. “I’m craving that cafe in Linkon. Knowing you, you probably want something. So, are you coming with me, or should I grab something for the both of us?”

“Don’t leave without me,” Sylus replied quickly. “I could use a side adventure with you.”

Rolling my eyes to mask my nerves, I snorted. “Then hurry up. And by the way, the twins are out of commission, so we’ll probably have to take the car ourselves.”

As we drove toward Linkon, the air felt lighter, the stark contrast between N109’s industrial shadows and the bustling streets beyond. Yet Sylus’s words lingered in my mind, as his often did, planting seeds of thought that stayed with me, unshaken.

When we entered the coffee shop, I noticed his gaze linger. His face fell, not in fear, but in shock.

“Sylus, did you see something?” I asked, my voice soft, laced with earnest concern.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed before he blinked and turned to me. “I… No, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed gently.

He nodded, but the weight in his tone betrayed him. Something was wrong.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? As your… assistant, you know at the very least?” The word was humbling on my tongue. Would saying "friend" be more appropriate? It would definitely be plausible, but friends don't necessarily pick and prod the way we have. To say "friends" undermines everything else that was bubbling, and I don’t want that.

Sighing at his hum, I let our outing continue. There was less banter, but it was a manageable experience.

The next morning, something felt off. Sylus’s usual sharp wit was dulled, his attention drifting elsewhere. Even the crow, who had become my constant visitor in the mornings, was absent. Days passed, and our exchanges grew quieter, the once effortless banter replaced by an unspoken tension.

It was clear as day: Sylus was scheming and plotting on his own, or at the very least, I wasn’t looped in. Kieran and Luke had no issue with Sylus's behavior, but there was something amiss. It seemed as though his attention had been pulled from me to focus on whatever was troubling him. Sure, I had no issue allowing for space - I mean, it wasn’t like we were together - but I was worried. There wasn’t any animosity between us, yet the trifling silence between us seemed to be a little more than that.

Days passed on and on, and it seemed that his stressed attitudes were lifting for more elated moods. It seemed as though a recovery was bound, but perhaps not for me. It seemed as though his ride was coming to an end, and mine? It was only beginning.

The burst of a gunshot, followed by its sharp echo, jolted me upright from my chair. My pulse quickened as I glanced toward the source of the sound, the commotion carrying through the otherwise quiet estate. I was used to the sound of bullets firing, close-range or far-range, but to hear it inside the estate, let alone where Sylus was? What for?

“Luke, Kieran? The hell was that?” I shouted from where I stood, concern pinching my eyebrows together. Luke and Kieran immediately appeared in the doorway, both uncharacteristically composed but clearly aware of my concern.

"Relax," Luke said, hands raised in an almost placating gesture. "It was nothing - you know boss, if he was shooting himself, he’d be able to heal himself back up. Lickity split."

"Nothing to worry about," Kieran chimed in, his tone steady, though the glance he exchanged with his brother was enough to prick at my nerves. Dolts.

“Yeah, but neither of you are answering my question. Who’s shooting right now?” Sylus was way capable of managing himself; heck, to say he couldn't would be lying straight through my teeth. He was the esteemed leader of Onychinus, who could miraculously (and freakishly, of course) mend himself back together. He feared nothing. He feared no one. He was the one feared.

Finally putting a brain cell to use, Luke placed a hand on his hip while another scratched his chin. “Not sure, but… could be something with that Hunter Association girl.”

My face morphed from concern and annoyance to confusion. Hunter Association girl? I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who?”

“You don’t know? Boss found the Hunter Association girl he was looking for?” Luke scratched his hood, creating a party of confusion between him and me. Kieran was also slowly joining the group as the conversation ensued. No, I wasn’t heartbroken right away. No, I wasn’t jealous. Yes, I was perplexed.

He was looking for someone, and he didn’t tell me?

Surely, he had a reason for doing so, but I could only pray that maybe, as an assistant, I would be informed of operations Onychinus was leading. Unless, of course, they were personal feats. Then, there would be a clear boundary that would make it evident I didn’t need to meddle in whatever Sylus was orchestrating.

Friend, but wasn’t I at least a friend? Could he not confide in me there? I mean, there was a part of him that I had unlocked over the previous years. Surely those bits and pieces of Sylus I got to learn through my own very eyes would at least trust me enough to tell me what the hell he was doing? Right?

Be levelled.

There is always more than what meets the eye.

Be levelled.

I slowly nodded, but the tension in my chest didn’t dissipate. “I did not know of her, but if you say it’s alright, I’ll take your word. You two better pray that I won’t be having to clean blood later, otherwise, you two…” I trailed a clenched fist with a thumb out at my neck with a menacing hiss imitating a knife at a throat. I knew better than to be vulnerable, let alone in front of the twins, and the best way to handle hurt in this moment was to pretend it didn’t exist with humor. The twins frantically saluted with an incoherent plea for their lives before dashing out. I returned to my work, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I had to clean up, and it was worse than I thought.

Despite my weak attempts at swallowing the questions gnawing at my chest, every passing second listed another question to my list. I was a student of heartache and worry, and my summative was to understand where I would lay with Sylus in the coming days.

After I had finished my reading, the silence was deafening, and I could hear it alluring me to see what had developed since the shot. It had been hours since the initial bullet, and the assistant part (definitely not the confused, aching part) of me wanted to know if there was anything for me to take care of or, you know, any answers for those questions.

I noted that both the mystery girl and Sylus weren’t in the estate anymore, but I saw the blood. This line of work built up a tolerance for gore and grim, but it still wasn’t pleasant. It seemed as if someone had haphazardly tried to clean it up, but I wished I had never overheard the conversations between them as they returned.

As the days pursued, I noticed a shift in Sylus’s routine. A woman I hadn’t seen before appeared in the halls, a faint shadow following Sylus’s movements. Truly, it would have been easier if she wasn’t prancing around the estate, because then I wouldn’t have to be a first-hand witness to seeing how he looked at her. It takes no fool to see that he looked at her with a warm gleam in his eye. A gleam that wasn’t his evol, but a look that drank her whole, his eyebrows raised and only furrowing at her witty remarks. I never meant to notice, but it seemed like he was breathing easier, yet his muscles were itching to grab her.

To crave someone.

My heart was slowly revolting in my chest, plotting an anarchy against my mind. A loud demand that I seek closure. My story was over, but I begged, “Let me be broken,” my pitiful mind whispering in surrender.

Sylus, who usually moved like a lone wolf through the estate, now seemed tethered to her. She occupied the guest room, accompanied him on errands, and their dynamic seemed effortless - something I would never relate to. Under the assumption that all that is sweet takes time, I patiently waited for him; supported him; cared for him. The banter I had once shared with him now played out between them, and my tongue was left scratchy from the lack of words falling off it.

It wasn’t jealousy I felt, not exactly. It was the quiet unease of witnessing something intimate from the outside, knowing I was no longer the one who fit into the empty spaces. I was a puzzle piece to replace; a hastily drawn picture on a piece of paper, cut out to only fill in for the missing piece.

Still, I couldn’t deny how easily they seemed to get along. She wasn’t intrusive or overbearing; she blended into the environment, a piece that completed the puzzle of Sylus’s world. Watching her settle into the rhythm of things only served to emphasize my growing sense of distance, and it was vividly clear to me that she was the puzzle piece he was hunting for.

When the announcement came that Sylus and Ms. Hunter - as he would call her - would be attending an auction together, an event critical to our operations, it wasn’t a surprise. But Lord, did it sting. I had been by his side countless times for situations like this, yet now I was relegated to the periphery.

The day of the auction was oddly quiet. He was enamored by her. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The dress he had tailored for her, the jewels that hung on her skin - they made her look stunning. If the case was different, I would have complimented her myself, but the depth of pain hurting within me begged me to stay back. As they left together, I busied myself with the tasks left behind, avoiding the gnawing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. The image of them - so perfect for one another - haunted my mind. Hours stretched on, and by the time they returned, their closeness was undeniable.

It hurt.

I promised myself to be level-headed, but all that had occurred was the feelings I had so helplessly grasped onto being sent to the gullies. I could neither leave nor stay. A sickening game where I would run in circles by myself. Since when did I become so dependent on him? I thought my individuality was what brought me here.

There’s a single pitch that no soul dares to experience. A sound so sharp it rips your heart out - not to serve it on a silver platter, but to hurl it onto a pile of others, drowning in the same feeling: sorrow. It’s the cacophony of thoughts rattling your chest, keeping it pumping with blood, yet leaving it aching. Sorrow doesn’t only break; it strengthens, but it’s through love that one nurtures.

Love is a simple yet complex thing. It makes days feel like waltzes, despite the darkness itching at the seams and cracks of the world. It tells a tale of mellow, warm days, where the sun doesn’t burn but heals. That’s how it felt to be in love.

That’s why, when I awoke each morning with darkness still pooling in my apartment - the billowy shadows, albeit smaller now with the faint morning light of the N109 Zone, dancing against the walls - and the sound of a crow at my window, I was okay. The ebony feathers and gleaming ruby eyes visible through the glass were my proof. I was not forgotten.

Opening the window, the crow cocked its head inquisitively, as though asking, Let me in, please!

“Come in,” I said, sliding the window open. The crow swooped in and perched on my bed frame.

“Running errands already, huh, Mephisto?” I chuckled dryly, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. I gently scratched beneath its beak, earning a positive response from the bird.

With a sigh, I gathered my strength and moved to my closet, pulling out low-waisted baggy cargos and a fitted ribbed top. Glancing over my shoulder, I added, “Tell Sylus he better be working when I get there - not passed out at his desk again.”

The image of Sylus asleep, cheek pressed against his knuckles, with soft snores escaping his lips, tugged my mouth into a smile. He could try to be inconspicuous, but on mornings when work demanded an early rise, his stoic demeanor softened into vulnerability. To others, it might not have seemed like much, but to me, it was enough to get moving.

When I reached the estate, Luke and Kieran waved me in, clearly still settling into the morning. Kieran was slumped on a couch while Luke mumbled something about not getting enough sleep and missing cereal. Familiar with their antics, I proceeded, leaving them to their misery.

“Sylus,” I called, a smile spreading across my face as I found him awake and working. “G’morning, boss.” The title slipped off my tongue easily - a term that had lost its seriousness, now laced with humor between us. Though our interactions were often work-related, there was a growing sense of familiarity. Shared jokes and casual banter hinted at something deeper.

He glanced up, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Good morning to you, too. Has the allure of work coffee dragged you in early?” His voice carried that low timbre that always caught me off guard.

I dropped into a leather armchair, resting my head in my hand. “Tempting, but no. I had a visitor this morning - a certain crow who seems to think I’m slacking.”

His smirk grew more pronounced. “Oh, is that so?”

“Don’t act coy,” I huffed.

“Caught red-handed,” he admitted with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Waking up early is one thing, but I should have a reason to wake up too, don’t you think?”

“Sylus, you’ve got a mountain of work to do,” I said, flustered, waving off his teasing.

“Work always waits for the boss, doesn’t it?” he quipped back.

After a bit more banter, I decided coffee was in order. Rising from the armchair, I motioned toward the door. “I’m craving that cafe in Linkon. Knowing you, you probably want something. So, are you coming with me, or should I grab something for the both of us?”

“Don’t leave without me,” Sylus replied quickly. “I could use a side adventure with you.”

Rolling my eyes to mask my nerves, I snorted. “Then hurry up. And by the way, the twins are out of commission, so we’ll probably have to take the car ourselves.”

As we drove toward Linkon, the air felt lighter, the stark contrast between N109’s industrial shadows and the bustling streets beyond. Yet Sylus’s words lingered in my mind, as his often did, planting seeds of thought that stayed with me, unshaken.

When we entered the coffee shop, I noticed his gaze linger. His face fell, not in fear, but in shock.

“Sylus, did you see something?” I asked, my voice soft, laced with earnest concern.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed before he blinked and turned to me. “I… No, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure?” I pressed gently.

He nodded, but the weight in his tone betrayed him. Something was wrong.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? As your… assistant, you know at the very least?” The word was humbling on my tongue. Would saying "friend" be more appropriate? It would definitely be plausible, but friends don't necessarily pick and prod the way we have. To say "friends" undermines everything else that was bubbling, and I don’t want that.

Sighing at his hum, I let our outing continue. There was less banter, but it was a manageable experience.

The next morning, something felt off. Sylus’s usual sharp wit was dulled, his attention drifting elsewhere. Even the crow, who had become my constant visitor in the mornings, was absent. Days passed, and our exchanges grew quieter, the once effortless banter replaced by an unspoken tension.

It was clear as day: Sylus was scheming and plotting on his own, or at the very least, I wasn’t looped in. Kieran and Luke had no issue with Sylus's behavior, but there was something amiss. It seemed as though his attention had been pulled from me to focus on whatever was troubling him. Sure, I had no issue allowing for space - I mean, it wasn’t like we were together - but I was worried. There wasn’t any animosity between us, yet the trifling silence between us seemed to be a little more than that.

Days passed on and on, and it seemed that his stressed attitudes were lifting for more elated moods. It seemed as though a recovery was bound, but perhaps not for me. It seemed as though his ride was coming to an end, and mine? It was only beginning.

The burst of a gunshot, followed by its sharp echo, jolted me upright from my chair. My pulse quickened as I glanced toward the source of the sound, the commotion carrying through the otherwise quiet estate. I was used to the sound of bullets firing, close-range or far-range, but to hear it inside the estate, let alone where Sylus was? What for?

“Luke, Kieran? The hell was that?” I shouted from where I stood, concern pinching my eyebrows together. Luke and Kieran immediately appeared in the doorway, both uncharacteristically composed but clearly aware of my concern.

"Relax," Luke said, hands raised in an almost placating gesture. "It was nothing - you know boss, if he was shooting himself, he’d be able to heal himself back up. Lickity split."

"Nothing to worry about," Kieran chimed in, his tone steady, though the glance he exchanged with his brother was enough to prick at my nerves. Dolts.

“Yeah, but neither of you are answering my question. Who’s shooting right now?” Sylus was way capable of managing himself; heck, to say he couldn't would be lying straight through my teeth. He was the esteemed leader of Onychinus, who could miraculously (and freakishly, of course) mend himself back together. He feared nothing. He feared no one. He was the one feared.

Finally putting a brain cell to use, Luke placed a hand on his hip while another scratched his chin. “Not sure, but… could be something with that Hunter Association girl.”

My face morphed from concern and annoyance to confusion. Hunter Association girl? I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who?”

“You don’t know? Boss found the Hunter Association girl he was looking for?” Luke scratched his hood, creating a party of confusion between him and me. Kieran was also slowly joining the group as the conversation ensued. No, I wasn’t heartbroken right away. No, I wasn’t jealous. Yes, I was perplexed.

He was looking for someone, and he didn’t tell me?

Surely, he had a reason for doing so, but I could only pray that maybe, as an assistant, I would be informed of operations Onychinus was leading. Unless, of course, they were personal feats. Then, there would be a clear boundary that would make it evident I didn’t need to meddle in whatever Sylus was orchestrating.

Friend, but wasn’t I at least a friend? Could he not confide in me there? I mean, there was a part of him that I had unlocked over the previous years. Surely those bits and pieces of Sylus I got to learn through my own very eyes would at least trust me enough to tell me what the hell he was doing? Right?

Be levelled.

There is always more than what meets the eye.

Be levelled.

I slowly nodded, but the tension in my chest didn’t dissipate. “I did not know of her, but if you say it’s alright, I’ll take your word. You two better pray that I won’t be having to clean blood later, otherwise, you two…” I trailed a clenched fist with a thumb out at my neck with a menacing hiss imitating a knife at a throat. I knew better than to be vulnerable, let alone in front of the twins, and the best way to handle hurt in this moment was to pretend it didn’t exist with humor. The twins frantically saluted with an incoherent plea for their lives before dashing out. I returned to my work, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I had to clean up, and it was worse than I thought.

Despite my weak attempts at swallowing the questions gnawing at my chest, every passing second listed another question to my list. I was a student of heartache and worry, and my summative was to understand where I would lay with Sylus in the coming days.

After I had finished my reading, the silence was deafening, and I could hear it alluring me to see what had developed since the shot. It had been hours since the initial bullet, and the assistant part (definitely not the confused, aching part) of me wanted to know if there was anything for me to take care of or, you know, any answers for those questions.

I noted that both the mystery girl and Sylus weren’t in the estate anymore, but I saw the blood. This line of work built up a tolerance for gore and grim, but it still wasn’t pleasant. It seemed as if someone had haphazardly tried to clean it up, but I wished I had never overheard the conversations between them as they returned.

As the days pursued, I noticed a shift in Sylus’s routine. A woman I hadn’t seen before appeared in the halls, a faint shadow following Sylus’s movements. Truly, it would have been easier if she wasn’t prancing around the estate, because then I wouldn’t have to be a first-hand witness to seeing how he looked at her. It takes no fool to see that he looked at her with a warm gleam in his eye. A gleam that wasn’t his evol, but a look that drank her whole, his eyebrows raised and only furrowing at her witty remarks. I never meant to notice, but it seemed like he was breathing easier, yet his muscles were itching to grab her.

To crave someone.

My heart was slowly revolting in my chest, plotting an anarchy against my mind. A loud demand that I seek closure. My story was over, but I begged, “Let me be broken,” my pitiful mind whispering in surrender.

Sylus, who usually moved like a lone wolf through the estate, now seemed tethered to her. She occupied the guest room, accompanied him on errands, and their dynamic seemed effortless - something I would never relate to. Under the assumption that all that is sweet takes time, I patiently waited for him; supported him; cared for him. The banter I had once shared with him now played out between them, and my tongue was left scratchy from the lack of words falling off it.

It wasn’t jealousy I felt, not exactly. It was the quiet unease of witnessing something intimate from the outside, knowing I was no longer the one who fit into the empty spaces. I was a puzzle piece to replace; a hastily drawn picture on a piece of paper, cut out to only fill in for the missing piece.

Still, I couldn’t deny how easily they seemed to get along. She wasn’t intrusive or overbearing; she blended into the environment, a piece that completed the puzzle of Sylus’s world. Watching her settle into the rhythm of things only served to emphasize my growing sense of distance, and it was vividly clear to me that she was the puzzle piece he was hunting for.

When the announcement came that Sylus and Ms. Hunter - as he would call her - would be attending an auction together, an event critical to our operations, it wasn’t a surprise. But Lord, did it sting. I had been by his side countless times for situations like this, yet now I was relegated to the periphery.

The day of the auction was oddly quiet. He was enamored by her. She was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. The dress he had tailored for her, the jewels that hung on her skin - they made her look stunning. If the case was different, I would have complimented her myself, but the depth of pain hurting within me begged me to stay back. As they left together, I busied myself with the tasks left behind, avoiding the gnawing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me. The image of them - so perfect for one another - haunted my mind. Hours stretched on, and by the time they returned, their closeness was undeniable.

It hurt.

I promised myself to be level-headed, but all that had occurred was the feelings I had so helplessly grasped onto being sent to the gullies. I could neither leave nor stay. A sickening game where I would run in circles by myself. Since when did I become so dependent on him? I thought my individuality was what brought me here.

Sylus’s guarded demeanor had softened around her. They moved as though they’d known each other for years, their conversation punctuated by shared laughter and subtle gestures.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

That it was just business, that whatever bond they’d formed wasn’t meant to affect me.

The lies my mind told to my heart.

I would happily take whatever piece of him I could get.

So, I stayed forgotten.

Please don’t repost, translate, or redistribute my work without permission. Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. All rights to Love and Deepspace and its characters belong to Infold Games and respective copyright holders. © kashedelic 2024

[grandline-fics]

hi! i just read all of your oneshots and they’re perfect, i’m in love. hoping it is okay to request something with zoro having a soft spot towards reader? he doesn’t even realize it a first, but since reader is somehow quiet and gentle (not weak though!) he starts to take note of small things to do/don’t do or notice their actions (ex: taking care o the crew) a lot more than others. thank you. <3

DESCRIPTION: Who knew you were Zoro’s soft spot? Apparently both of you are the last to know 

WARNINGS: none, just pure fluff

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 856

A/N:  Thank you for your kind words and for this request! I hope it's to your liking. I've been feeling a little under the weather these past couple of days so some fluff was needed <3

MASTERLIST

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

It’s tiny things; little, practically meaningless things that are so easy to miss but they’re there. When you first joined the crew, your presence fell into the likes of his and Robin’s; strong but relatively quiet and easily looked passed if you wanted. You didn’t see the point in wasting energy needlessly and knew the value in waiting until letting yourself be known. Zoro unknowingly enjoyed that kind of calm you naturally brought and found himself gravitating towards it because it seemed even when he was in his own space you were still in his eye-line. In the beginning he found it a little strange that it kept happening, he knew you weren’t following him. Hell most of the times you were on the other side of the ship or talking with someone else so he cleared it as coincidence and thought nothing of it. As time went on, there was a lot he was putting down to mere coincidence. 

When you were all exploring new islands it was purely happenstance that you two walked side by side. Neither of you were the type to bound about and race ahead without a cause for urgency. He found he didn’t get lost as easily when you were close. You always seemed to know the way to go. On one trip Brook had commented to Zoro how lucky he had been that you were there to talk to him at the right moment otherwise he would have kept walking towards a path that would have taken him towards a ravine. Because of your voice suddenly pulling him into conversation he’d kept the right track and avoided possibly injuring himself and getting a lecture from the others. Lucky right?

It was also luck of the draw that when eating or drinking off the ship, Zoro was sat at the table in such a way that his back blocked you mostly from view from any unwanted stares. It was never in a subconscious way to keep you from interacting with others but it was like another sense he had that he was able to tell when you just wanted to sit with the crew and enjoy your meal. It seemed to go both ways too in that regard. If women tried to approach and flirt with him you effortlessly had a way of making a joke to dissuade them and steer them in Sanji’s direction. Was any of it done out of jealousy, possessiveness of the other’s attention, or an overwhelming need to protect? Not in the least, it was just doing what needed to be done to help out a friend and fellow crew-mate.

On the Sunny it’s no different. It’s not even a second thought, his body just reacts without thinking. In the early, barely waking hours when he’s finished his night watch and is about to grab a quick snack before training he always pulls out a specific mug from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. It’s never for him and like clockwork you appear just as he’s finished drinking a glass of water. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes and stifling a small yawn you always offer him a small smile and greeting that is returned. You both pass each other, your only motivation is caffeine to see you through the last of the watch before everyone else is awake while he goes to the crow’s nest to train. 

After all this time it’s never occurred to you to question why your mug is waiting for you when you rise. You don’t know why but it’s something that immediately makes your morning a little bit brighter. It’s also routine now that an hour or so after breakfast, you and Zoro both nap; him to rest between his training sessions and you to grab another couple hours after your night watch. Nami occasionally glances up from her charts to shake her head at your sleeping forms. Robin finds it adorable while Brook chuckles, nostalgic over youth and love’s first stages. 

“Jeez they’re both so clueless.” Sanji grumbles, he’s accepted long ago that he doesn’t have a chance with you but is so infuriated that nothing has actually happened. He lost you to the swordsman who hasn’t even thought to make a move. Usopp grins and watches as you stir slightly in your sleep which in turn makes Zoro react before his body relaxes again. Currently he’s lying on his back with one hand tucked behind his head. While the other that’s draped over his chest, his fingers almost touching yours that are curled by your head as you sleep on your side. 

From his spot on Sunny’s head, Luffy grins. “I don’t know. I think they do know, in their own way.” It’s the little, insignificant things that you both do for each other that are easy to miss and while a lot of little things add up into something bigger, none of it compares to the way that you and Zoro unknowingly look at each other at any given chance. Because that is something so big that no one else can ignore. 

[ch3rrybbie]

Need.

Randall Kirkland x fem!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

———

Summary: You can’t seem to stay away from Randall, you’re yet to speak and he can’t stop staring. Why do you feel like you know him? What does he want? What do you need?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering, masturbation, smutty daydreams, y/n is stubborn asf.

Note from author: Hi there! Tysm to the love on the snippet I put out, I just randomly write it and decided to share it and I’m so glad I did lol. I hope this lives up to what yall were expecting and I hope you enjoy. I will deffo probs write more for Randall and other fandoms so drop requests( hopefully Ik them). Also this is basically my first ever fic and time writing smut so pls be nice and I hope it’s not too bad lmao😭😭😭

———

You’d been in town for four months now. And as much as a hell hole as it could and would prove itself to be you were thankful for the reprieve from the outside world. You’d come alone on a post college road trip looking for something anything as to what your life should be as to who you would be. Then came the crows the tree and the bogeymen in the woods.

———

Life soon became mundane, wake, work eat sleep repeat. You’d decided to live in town and not colony house,your double bed becoming a lifesaver through those long cold nights. Whilst your house didn’t have the charm of your dorm or home bedroom you tried your best. Forgoing fairy lights and band posters you supplemented with writing down song lyrics and crudely drawn flowers on the walls you were no artist but it was something to look at before the whispering and tapping got too loud and you reverted back to tucking your head under the covers, knowing all that kept you from them was a rock loosely strung on the door.But you spent your fair share of time at colony house helping rule the roost with Donna and she’d grown to love you fiercely like a daughter and it kept you going.

The day the bus arrived,the day he came,was almost alike any other. You woke at sunrise to help Tian Chen with opening the diner after Sara’s…retirement. You were wiping down the tables when you saw it through the windows. The bus had lazily rolled in and heaved to a stop right outside the diner and you saw him swing off its disgruntled steps. Tall, toned with a buzzed head and a face like thunder you mused to yourself. But there was something maybe lust or the delirious state the town caused, something tugged you to him. A feeling that you should go let him know you were there, an obligation.

You heaved the thought down, as unpleasant as swallowing bile.

———

Upon Kenny’s command you resigned yourself to ushering in the bus folk. Your eyes caught Donna’s and with it you passed a sympathetic glare you hoped she understood its messaging-“I’m sorry you have to go this again but don’t be too much of a bitch with them”.

Most of them were heartwarmingly lovely to a point your heart broke, they didn’t know the fate that had befallen them.The pain and suffering they were yet to face. You remembered exactly how each and every second felt and resorted to flittering around helping how you could, making sure their steaming cups of herbal tea were always brimming. As you were filling an old lady’s second cup you heard a gunshot go off.

Your world span. Ears ringing you dropped the cup it’s shatter giving music to your pounding steps as you burst out the diner.

“Donna?!” you yelled praying she’d be able to answer.

“I’m fine sweetie but hold the door” she casually threw back her eyes trained on someone, gun pushed into their chest.

Burning heat arose as he turned his head, his furrowed brows lifting as soon as he saw you a confused look replacing his disgruntled one. He cocked an eyebrow, as if to say you know this crazy bitch??? You ignored him and felt envy flush over you as you watched Ellis and Fatima run off hand in hand after escaping bus passengers.

You wondered if you’d ever have someone that would run with you into danger without a second thought.

You begrudgingly followed Donna’s request ushering the last of the bus strangers into the diner hoping the simulated warmth would numb the fear of the tapping and whispering yet to come.

Donna kept him for last seemingly keeping a close eye on him gun nudging him periodically. Time seemed to slow the closer he got, his stature seemed to exaggerate with his hands strung loosely in the air, a sarcastic surrender. He was surprisingly stocky, muscles taught as his agitation grew stronger.

Your eyes once again locked and your breath caught in your throat. A spark lit within your stomach and spread all throughout you. He had a similar lust struck gaze yet his eyes never left yours,never once walked across your body.

You snapped your head away.

Donna incredulously looked between the two of you and shoved him into the diner. You dared not to turn and look for him in the sea of strangers. And yet that did nothing to quell you swelling desire, you felt it cresting, waiting to come crashing down.

It was going to be a long night.

———

As soon as the sun streaked through the windows you legged it out of there citing a lack of sleep. Which was true you felt his gaze on you the whole night and you hadn’t looked once.

———

It’d been a few days since you’d had your weird eye fuck with the stranger from the bus. Randall, as you’d come to find out and you’d vowed to push aside all thoughts of him and refusing to even use his name although your only danger of using it was at night when your convictions stuttered and were only quelled by toe curling thoughts of him.

Issue was he did anything but ignore you. He was everywhere.

He was at colony house arguing with Donna. He was atop the bus staring down all who dare walk past. Hell he was even occasionally scoffing his face in the diner. And yet you avoided him, not a single word uttered yet he had your heart hitching.

His staring persisted despite your avoidance. It seemed to only make him hungrier to see you.

You found yourself slipping into thoughts of what he smelt, tasted and fucked like.

Thoughts. That was all you could have.

No more.

———

You were trudging up to colony house after a late night drinking with Jade, in summary you lost your bet of out drinking him and he soon was let in on your little secret. But you trusted him. The only person you could never tell was looking at you a face like thunder. Your confusion clouded your perception and failed to see Randall him marching away from Donna.

Your breath caught in your throat as he got closer, you felt exposed. It was a balmy spring day so you’d sported jeans and a tank top thinking nothing of it. He finally let his eyes slip down your body, staring greedily, seemingly committing it to memory.

You’d reprimand him if you weren’t doing the same.

He wore a white tank with an open t shirt strung on top, his jeans tight in all the right places. You were about to look at his arms again before the muscle in his jaw clenched harder and he barrelled on.

Donna loomed at the top of the porch steps a face like thunder. And yet she didn’t care to rant about the backend of the altercation you saw.

Shit.

“You greenhouse now” she spat.

Fuck.

She shut the door behind the two of you with a slam so you opted to give your now peace offering, “Look here’s the bulb I told you about I think it’s gonna look great with the-“.

“Honey, we all have needs and wants I understand that but HIM?!” she flung out incredulously hands on hips. With your face a mixture of horror and confusion she continued “I saw the way you two looked at each other that first day at the diner and I’m sure you’ve done more than look since, hell what was that just now?!”

God you wished.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Donna nothings happened, and as far as I’m concerned nothing will”

Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, “Good , you deserve someone better than him”

You cringed at that. Was he that bad?

“Now show me my beautiful new tulip bulb” she proclaimed.

———

Donna’s comment had been bouncing around your head for days alongside seeing less of Randall him, tension was building.

Yesterday you spied him working on a truck and couldn’t help but walk closer. He Sported the same white tank that exposed this thick corded arms. He’d grunted as he’d rolled himself under the truck. Jeans straining to contain him, legs spread. Arms straining with force. You imagined what it’d be like to even sit on his lap clothed, how good you’d feel.

How good you could make him feel.

You’d pictured him taking you pressed against the hood of the truck. Skirt flipped up, exposed for all to see. Tits bare and pebbling against the cold harsh metal. He’d stroke you first you were sure, then he’d fuck his thick cock into you. Uniting pain and pleasure,he’d make you taste yourself on his thick calloused fingers as he took you for all to see.

The day dream vanished as you watched a girl from colony house , Lola? Lila?, walk up to him and hand him water as he rolled out from under the truck.

Your heart dropped and an amassing wave of disappointment came over you. Albeit foolishly , you’d thought his attention had been solely concentrated on you and not whoever would reciprocate it.

You turned walked home before he could see you.

That night you couldn’t help but call his name as you came to the thought of him working on his truck.

———

The last place you could think of being alone was the woods, I mean your bedroom was the other but your thoughts couldn’t be controlled there as you’d realised last night.

After seeing him with the girl from colony house your conviction became stronger. And you decided to strengthen it alone in the woods the last thing you needed was to see him.

You started your descent into the peace, the trees were lush with greenery and swayed welcomingly. It was a thick, sweaty day. Your sundress swung as you walked providing the cool breeze you needed.How funny, you were trapped in a hellish town full of monsters human and other and yet it was so beautiful. Flowers were starting to sprout up through the dense leaves of the forest floor and you couldn’t help but be entranced. The less funny part was who your brain was obsessed with happened to be who you had decided was the resident fuck boy.

“Hey”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart pounded in your chest knowing the monsters wouldn’t be so polite. Your eyes were snatched up from the forest floor to all six foot of him lazily leaning across a tree. Same tank top and jeans as your daydream. He must be on break from working on his truck.

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK. He looks good.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” He inquired.

You awkwardly shuffled and looked around.

“Sorry forgot everything is secret here, you smoke?” He asked coolly

Taken by surprise you chuckled, “uhhhh yeah before, well you know” you gestured around you.

He hummed cigarette already between his teeth.in one slick motion he’d lit it and started steadily approaching you taking a drag. He lazily held it to you.

You leant forward not breaking eye contact as hou took a drag, cigarette still between his fingers. You could’ve sworn he swallowed harshly, but the moment was cut short as you spluttered and coughed.

It’d been awhile since you’d last smoked.

He laughed heartily and his hand slipped to your back stroking and patting till your coughing seized. His hand awkwardly retracted and you longed for its warmth to grace you again. He attempted to strike up a conversation again before seeming to change his mind, lips pressing back together.

They looked soft.

He had always seemed so sure of himself how strange you mused to yourself.

“I’ve seen you staring at me” you burst out, regretting it as soon as it fled you lips. So much for secrecy.

He chuckled caught aback then grew somewhat serious taking another drag, “You like it?”

“No” you lied through your teeth

“Really?” He smirked.

He paused, “It’s not like I haven’t seen you looking back sweetheart”

He looked satisfied with his own reply slowly walking back shrugging and once again leaning against the tree.

He smiled a boyishly handsome grin,took a longer drag taking in your shocked face.

SWEETHEART?! Really, he truly was a fuck boy then huh.

You once again lost control of you mouth, “I don’t think your colony house girlfriend would be too happy about you calling me sweetheart” you spat.

He coughs out smoke unable to stop himself from laughing,“ Who?” he laughs.

You refuse to let his facade get to you, not helping him with the answer.

His confusion blends back into another stupid smirk, “Oh, Laine?” He chuckles, eyes narrowing to gauge your reaction.

Laine? You think to yourself, what a stupid name. Lame Laine. EW! no you refuse to fight some random girl over him. He didn’t belong to you.

As much as you wanted him to.

Your eyes flicked back to his and something seemed to cross his face. His eyes darkened.

He knew. He knew you wanted him.

He slowly approached.

“You still want some?”, he asked. Gesturing to the cigarette.

He read your apprehension and said something that was dizzying to you.

“I could shotgun you” he she shrugged eyes not leaving yours. Unable to speak you nodded… a little too enthusiastically and he smirked. You could’ve sworn his eyes darkened.

He tilts your head up softly but as firm as needed to align your lips to his, all that separated you was air. With bated breath loosening unwillingly out your mouth in a sigh, your were lips parted in anticipation. Something he seemed to be unable to mock his face sporting the same intense stare as if he could unfurl your lips and drive you over the edge of what you weren’t sure madness pleasure?. Slowly, softly he blew the smoke into your mouth and you felt so intensely in need of him that it didn’t feel like breathing him in, it simply felt like breathing whole for the first time. It felt as natural as anything being this close needing him there needing him anywhere on you or near you. His fingers felt nice but the searing want shared silently was a feeling like no other. It radiated beyond magnetism. Staring at each other no longer held challenge but you were looking, truly seeing each other for the first time beyond the facade beyond this bodies you didn’t need to scratch the itch of knowing the conclude something. You’d know him before.

You breathed in the smoke he blew, eyes not breaking from his. His pupils were blown and it was your time to smirk. If you didn’t know before you knew now.

He wanted you too.

You blew out the smoke as slowly as you could. His eyes fixated on your lips.

He looked entranced.

His hand still cupped your jaw, his thumb coming up to glide across your lower lip. Smoke gone, you pulled his thumb into your mouth and sucked. His eyes once again met yours. “Fuck” he breathed out.

It was your turn to tease him. You spied the cigarette. It’s sweet red cherry still burning, you decided whatever was about to happen was going to burn like that.

Fast and hot.

Fuck it you thought.

You took it from his fingers, he was still entranced.

You breathed it in slowly and pushed on your toes to meet his face. Your tits brushed his chest. Your noses skimmed. His hands dropped to grip your hips and they bunched up the material of your dress. Surprisingly slowly but surely your lips softly bumped and grazed each other and you blew out the smoke. He didn’t breathed it in, so puzzled you stayed like that eyes locked till neither of you could bear it any longer.

He snapped out of the trance.

Your lips crashed together desire encompassing you heat moving lower. He smelt like pine and sea air and sweat and smoke and oil.

He tasted salty. His lips were soft.

It was almost all too delicious.

Almost.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as his hand smoothed up your back to hold your head and pull you in further. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you up easily. He grinned into you as the kisses grew hot and sloppy.

Your back hit a tree and the friction between you started to give you much needed release. He started pushing his hardening crotch into yours. He broke the kiss, “I knew you wanted me” he leered. “Shut up” you groaned and seized his lips back to yours.

His lips start to wander sucking your neck and finding the spot that made you push out a lengthened moan, legs attempting to pull him in further.

“Fuck you needed this almost as much as me huh baby” he croons as his hand slithers from your waist. It skims up your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake. It reaches your tit feeling its weight even inside your bra. His hand snakes in and is surprisingly cold, you hiss. “Awe is it cold baby” he mocks as he smooths his thumb over your pebbling nipple, his eyes flick to yours. “Huh baby?”, he pinches and rolls your nipple to elicit an answer. “Fuck yes” you hiss, your hips jerking even further into his.

You pull his face back to yours with both hands, teeth clashing wantonly as you kiss him viciously. He moans breathlessly , gasping and moaning as your hand slips to press against the outline of his hard cock. It’s as big as you thought.

“Tell me what you need baby” he begs, his grip on your hip tightening. You refuse to answer, smirking. He grabs your hand from his crotch and pushes his bulge into your underwear covered crotch. You throw your head back against the trunk and your moans come out as hums through your clamped lips. “Come on baby tell me what you need”.

A vision of you knelt before him flashed into you mind. And you grew wet. Going down on someone sometimes felt submissive, degrading even. But with him the idea of teasing and controlling him whilst knelt before him. You needed it.

You pushed him away and he lowered you to your feet looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry did I do something that-”

You cut him off by sinking to your knees and open palm sliding down his front and down his clothed thighs. You applied more pressure the closer to his crotch you got.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, “Is this okay baby?” You crooned.

“Yes” he breathed out.

You took your time.

Unbuckling his belt and sliding it out, you kissed the outline of his cock in his jeans before unzipping and sliding them down. You made quick work of his boxers and there he was.

As big as you thought, bigger even. The head of his cock was burning red and seeping with precum.

Oh he was aching for you.

How many nights had he fisted his cock to images of you?

You trace a finger over the seeping head and he hisses. You smirk, “is that sensitive baby?”. You do it again and he moans long and deep. You trace a finger down the thick veins and caress his balls and he rewards you with a needy “please baby”.

You lean forward on your knees and kiss the tip. Kiss the shaft and lick your way down to his aching balls. You return you attention to the seeping head continuing to kiss is gently allowing the kisses to get sloppier. His hips jerk towards you and you indulge him. His burning tip slips into your mouth and you lower it till your nose brushes against his lower stomach. You keep your rhythm soft and slow and he melts into you. His moans must be reaching the town by now and you hoped that colony house girl heard. You started to increase your suction and go faster and he pulls you off him. You release him with a lavicious pop.

He tucks himself back into his jeans and you stand there unsure until he surges down tasting himself on you. He backs you up against a tree and drops onto a knee. Both of his hands snake up your legs lifting your dress and stroking your wet heat over your panties. He kisses your thighs and licks a thick wet stripe over your clothed clit. He tugs your pants down maintaining eye contact as he spits onto your bare gleaming pussy. He kisses you clit achingly soft and begins to lick and kiss building your already approaching orgasm. You begin to gyrate against his now gleaming face. His now hot calloused hand rubs your clit and he pulls away and just stares at you. His confidence vanquished, his face desperate to watch you come. He dives back and guides two finger into your heat and curls them perfectly. Your loud breathing transforms into moans uncaring of who might hear. He hums into your aching pussy seemingly encouraging you. White hot heat encases you everything goes numb as you come around his knuckle deep fingers, pussy spasming. He watches your face contort in pleasure and continues his ministrations carrying you through.

Your breathing stills and he rises lifting his fingers to your lips, letting them sink into your awaiting mouth. You plead to be able the touch him and he smiles and kisses you full of need. “Please touch me again baby” he moans wantonly. You needed to see him come. Your hands slid down his front and once again released him. You stroked him firmly, the head of his cock an even brighter red and was pouring pre come. He was close. Your lips lunged for his and you tugged his cock harder. His moans became louder, breathing harsher as he spurted hot and harsh against your bare stomach and pussy. Your hand was covered and his face was serene. This was way more delicious than a daydream.

———

You were both bashful as you helped each other dress. Cheeks flushing as he pulled up your panties and gently tugged your dress down, you’d stopped him from wiping his come away and his confidence sprouted back. “You want something to remember this by?” He jested. “You wish” you spat back, you both knew what he said held truth.

The bell sounded in the distance.

“Come on I’ll walk you back”, he tugged your hand putting you in front of him and nudged you towards the edge of the forest. Was it to put a barrier between you and those things? No, you wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking he cared. If he cared he’d of asked you out or something along those lines. Right?

You made it back in time. “This is me” you awkwardly shrugged. You both waited for the other to speak.

You broke the silence.

“Randall, look you don’t owe me anything I get it this was nothing. I won’t tell Laine and you can go back to persuing her”.

“Y/N, me and Laine are-“ he started

You cut him off. You couldn’t bare to hear it.

“I just needed a release from whatever weird tension we had, I get it seriously no need to explain”

He looked stunned and started to frown. But he quickly masked it with a careless gaze.

Your eyes narrowed, “thanks for walking me back I guess”

“Yeah yeah , anytime”

He turned to abruptly leave.

You wanted him to stay, your bed would bed would be so warm with him. The thought made your heart skip.

“Randall wait!”

He turned

“Get home safe”, you deflated as you were unable to ask him to stay. As if he’d want to.

His swagger returned, “Don’t worry about me too much sweetheart” he smirked.

He laughed at you rolling your eyes as he strolled away.

———

Why did him walking away hurt so much? Why did you feel like you knew him?

“Fuckkkkk”, you hissed as you slid down your door. Had you fucked him in college? No,no surely not you’d shamefully remembered every drunken fight and embarrassingly bad one night stand. Then how could you possibly know him? You didn’t know but it was almost certain he remembered and the one whiteclaw too many was the culprit as to your forgetting. How could you forget a connection like that it almost felt cosmic. God now you really sounded like a colony house hippy dippy idiot.

[13as07]

Crows Breed In The Spring #1

(Shisui Uchahi Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Keji. They’re here on Tumblr; Please check them out!]

Requested by: @chamchamshisui (More or less)

Word Count: 4,086

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Nick-Name(s): Little/Dove, Sir, Goddess

Exhibitionism

Titty Fondling

Fingering

Choking

Nudity

Slight Degrading

Prey/Predator Kink

Arranged Marriage

Plans for Part #2

———————————————————————

Shisui’s eyes trail on me as my eyes trail on the branches above us. The trees are slowly blooming, greens, pinks, and soft reds all melting into a nature-made painting. Spring is my favorite season, both for the nature and for the clan. The world is always painted so beautifully, whereas the clan is always filled with the promise of the future generation.

I mentioned it to one of the elders, once, how it seems that the clan is always buzzing with pregnancies and young couples wishing for children during the spring months. I got a lecture from both the elder and my parents for mentioning such a thing, in front of the Clan Council nonetheless. Despite the lectures I got, something the Chief said has always stuck with me.

Crows breed in the spring.

Looking back at the interaction, it was a strange thing for him to say, especially right before Shisui proposed. Given, the proposal came as a surprise. After all, we’ve been betrothed since birth so a formal proposal was never expected but he insisted on doing it anyway, insisted he wanted things to be as ‘normal’ as he could make them for me. Still, I can’t make myself believe that the Chief didn’t know it was happening, let alone when. Though, he’s always been a bit of an off person. Saying weird things at weird times.

Our wedding is coming up, in twelve months, down exactly to the day. I’m lucky when it comes to my arranged marriage, especially to who I’ve been arranged to spend my life with. Shisui is a good man, both at home and in society. He’s a high-ranked, and even higher achieved, shinobi, praised by both the Clan and the Village for his achievements and abilities. A distinguished Anbu, one of the youngest and most skilled of our generation. Of the past few generations.

Despite all that, he’s still a humble man, a kind man, a loving man. All of which has been proven once again today. With our wedding date being exactly a year away, Shisui requested today off, speaking to the Chief and Hokage personally to ensure he could spend the day with me. I’m just as giddy now as I was when he told me the news two weeks ago. My heart skips just thinking of the event and what my future husband said to me.

Don’t worry about a thing, Dove, I’ve taken care of all of it.

It’ll be a whole day of just me and you. Nothing and no one to take my attention away from you.

I assure you that the day will be spent with me showing you the future I promise to give you.

“Your cheeks are blushed again,” Shisui comments, leaning closer to whisper the sentence into my ear, acting as if it will disturb the Spring blooms. I tilt my head, escaping the tease of his lips against my ear that causes my cheeks to darken, this time in embarrassment instead of admiration. “Don’t run from me, Little Dove,” He giggles, tilting his head too, chasing after me as I try to flee. “Tell me what’s on that colorful mind of yours.”

“You,” I answer instantly, even more embarrassed by the confession and eagerness in my voice.

Shishui’s laugh tickles my skin, the soft sound wrapping around my heart and warming it from the outside in. “What a coincidence,” he murmurs, sliding a hand onto my hip. He softly pulls on me, positioning me against his body. Our hips are fleshed against each other, and the rough existence of his knife slid into its hilt, hidden under the band of his pants, separating a section of our connection. “I’m thinking about you too.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, indeed” He murmurs, his fingertips slow and steady as they slide off my hip. They trail upward, happily disregarding my shirt, slipping underneath it to caress the bare skin of my side. “We have some time before we’re expected to meet our families for dinner.”

“Oh,” I exhale, repeating my earlier reply. My heart feels quick in my chest, beating quicker the harder it gets to underplay Shisui’s touches. His fingers feel warm against my side, sending electric tingles across my skin. His lips have made residence against the side of my head, their warmth making the tips of my ears feel like flames. “What should we do with that time?”

“I can think of a... ah, thing, or two.” His words, paired with the continued climbing of his fingers, his touch carefully tracing one, two, three of my ribs, sends my senses ablaze. “Would you like to know what those things might be?” Shisui asks, fingers curling to wrap under the band of my bra. His knuckles slide back and forth, barely moving an inch in either direction as he waits for my answer.

My jaw falls open, lips twitching to form an answer, a word, even a sound would suffice. When nothing comes, I simply nod my head, yes, to answer my waiting husband.

His hip pushes against mine, gently leading me off the dusty trail that twirls through the acres of blooming trees on the outskirts of the Clan’s territory. “First, we should wander off the path. Wonder deep into the trees, let the flowers hide us from the world. Let the glow of the blooms highlight the beauty of my future wife.” My jaw clicks closed, my eyes widening as I hang onto every word spilling from Shisui.

The heat of his eyes pulls off of me, instantly skirting over the area in front of us, his shinobi ways bleeding through whenever and wherever possible. Still, his focus stays with me. With the eyes of any passer-byer or another couple enjoying the blooms being gone, Shushi has no shame. His hand jerks upward, a strong hand cupping my boob for a second before it starts toying with me. His hand squeezes my flesh, his fingers molding around my breast as his hip continues to gently push me forward.

“Once we’re safely tucked away, truly left alone, with nothing but the trees to see us, I’m going to lay my beautiful wife down on the fallen flower petals. I’m going to lay with her, sucking in the scent and taste of the beautiful pheromones that have been dancing off her skin the past few days.”

My mind feels like it has short-circuited. My thoughts are gummy, jumbled, and messy from arousal and the sweetness of Shisui’s affection. Embarrassment and worry swirl around my thoughts as well. I know that he has an idea of my menstrual circle; the chocolates at just the right times throughout the month, his willingness to give more than he receives when I’m my neediest, the extra attention when my emotions are in a reck, but it never crossed my mind that he had a strong hold on the bio-clock that is my body.

Can he truly tell what phase of my cycle I’m on? He can’t seriously smell my pheromones, can he? I know it’s rumored that us Uchiha’s take after crows a little too much. With age, I’ve even heard rumors that our population jumps every spring, just like crows, because we’ve picked up their breeding habits, but that’s all it is. Rumors. It’s normal that my sex drive jumps in tune with my bodily clock, but does Shisui’s truly jump every spring?

“Now what’s on that colorful mind?” My betrothed asks, gently pulling me from the string of unanswerable questions. His lips brush behind my ear, paired with a soft inhale before his kiss falls downward.

“Can you really smell my pheromones?” I whisper, letting my head tip when his kisses start trailing down my neck.

“Mhm,” he hums, taking another deep breath before sliding his tongue across the skin of my throat. “It’s faint, but there. The sensitivity of your skin and heightened reactions to my touch give you away a bit more though. Still, I can’t help but crave you, knowing how much you’re craving me.” Shusui stops moving, pulling his hand from my chest and his lips from my neck. I can’t help feeling like I slammed into a brick wall, my skin suddenly chilly without his touch, and irritation bubbling in my stomach. “Is there anything else tickling that mind of yours?”

“No. Well... yes, but it’s stupid,” I grumble, my unfounded anger growing the longer Shisui stays parted from me. My eyes trail after him, carefully watching as he scopes out the area. Can’t he throw caution to the wind just once? I’m supposed to have his full attention, but instead, he’s checking the branches for the boogie man.

“No question is a stupid question.”

I think over it for a moment, my unhappiness and the teasing given to me mixing in my stomach. “Do you think we have a breeding season?”

“Of course, Dove,” Shisui answers, finally making his way back to me. His hands land on my hips, massaging them for a second before nudging my shirt up to hook his fingertips under the band of my pants. “There are hundreds of scientific articles linking the sexual activities of our clan with our counterparts, our crows. It’s not even that far-fetched. Just look at the Inuzuka Clan. The Aburame. The Sarutobi. They all exhibit traits of their animalistic counterparts, repopulation timing included.”

I barely hear any of his rambling, my mind – and hormones – swirling with the feeling of Shisui’s fingers, the teasing of them sliding back and forth against my hips, the mundane but incredibly hot knowledge that he refused to wait until I was bare to feel the sensation of my skin against his rough hands.

Silence falls between us, the forest so quiet that I swear I can hear the electricity burning between our locked eyes. My stomach flips when Shisui slides one of his hands further along my waistband, his fingertips ghosting over the front of my panties. Tingles erupt through my body, making the space between my thighs their own base. It feels like minutes tick by as he slides his hand further into my pants, minutes that are truly only seconds.

Crimson melts into my future husband’s eyes. Crimson, that swarms the darkness of Shisui’s iris. Crimson, that is quickly dotted with three perfect tomoes. Crimson, that soon trades his tomoes for the pinwheeled design of his advanced sharingan. I drown in the color, letting it seep into every ounce of me. Letting the color dance alongside the feeling of Shisui’s fingers sliding back and forth over my pussy that’s angry with the fact that it’s still clothed and hidden from the attention it wants.

“You’re not breathing.”

“What?” I ask, the exhale I release seeming to also release the scream of my lungs I’ve been neglecting.

Shisui chuckles at my lugging, fingertip pressing against my clenching hole as he leans closer to me. His lips easily find mine, gracing me with the millionth kiss of the day. Still, the kiss is a bit rough, proof of his habit of biting them present in the flesh. I eagerly wrap my arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer to me. The simple act pulls more laughter from him, laughter that I suck into my lungs as I deep our kiss.

My tongue slides out, needlingly poking at my boyfriend’s lips. Shisui parts his lips for me, letting my tongue slide in and explore his mouth. I’m given free rein of our kisses, leading the dance our lips are partaking in. In exchange, he gets free rein of my body.

A hand snakes up my side, racing the path up my hip, under my shirt, and crawling under my bra. Shisui’s hand is rougher this time as he grips my boob, squeezing it until my breath goes jagged in an attempt to mellow the ache forming across my skin. My pain doesn’t go without pleasure though. The hand toying with my wetting panties slowly crawls under the material, his fingertips sliding through my folds to collect my wetness.

I back off for a second, breaking for our kisses to suck in a needed breath. A labored breath, trying to balance the pleasure teasing my pussy, the pain webbing from Shisui’s grasp on my chest, and the ting of fear that’s always flickering when his sharingan is activated.

“Dove?”

“Ye-”

My answer is cut off by a sharp inhale, slammed from my lungs when Shisui thrusts two of his fingers into me. My hands slip from his neck, gripping his shoulders with my nails digging into the dark material of his shirt.

“You’re going to be good for your husband and strip, yeah? You’re going to strip and lay your pretty self out on the blossom petals for me, yes?” His fingers move just as slowly and even as his voice. Steady, strong, dependable, but not fast enough.

“Yes, Sir,” I murmur, tightening my hold on him, hoping he’ll move his fingers even a bit faster.

“There’s a good Little Dove,” He coos, giving me the opposite of what I want. Shisui pulls his touch off of me, squeezing my breast once more before breaking contact. His eyes swirl in amusement as he drinks in my disappointment, a laugh brewing in his chest, I’m sure. “Strip,” he reminds me of my command, taking a step back as he slips his fingers into his mouth.

It feels like my stomach gushes at the sound of Shisui sucking my juices off himself. Instantly, my hands jerk, taking a grip of my shirt to rip it up and over my head. My movements get messier, wanting to rid myself of all my clothing if it means he’ll touch me again, touch me sooner. My clothes are dropped to the floor, forgotten as soon as I free them from my body.

“Good job,” he coos again, eyes still rubbing my skin raw. “Lay down. Look at the flowers.”

My knees buckle, bending to let gravity push me to the forest floor. It feels like my body moves on its own, positioning myself to lie on the ground like ordered. The soft petals fallen from the trees above rub against my skin, their scent feeling my nose, and their soft colors exploding in my eyes. The petals aren’t the only thing that catches my eye. Buried in the branches are two patches of black, sticking out against the colorful ceiling of the trees.

Crows breed in the spring.

It’s probably a couple of crows, hanging around and planning the same thing I have in mind.

My sense of hearing isn’t left bored either, picking up on every sound, every sound except the sound of Shisui. That’s not surprising though. A loud ninja isn’t a good ninja.

“Dove?”

“Shisui?”

He falls silent again, my senses on high alert, edged from the forest, edged from being so exposed, edged from not knowing where my lover is.

Minutes tick by, filled with thoughts, with ‘what if’s, filled with worry. Just as my body relaxes, my mind grows silent and focuses on the branches swaying, on the petals slowly falling, my thigh is gripped.

“Shisui!” I shriek, jerking into a seat position.

“Dove,” He chuckles, the familiar sight of his sharingan filling my sight and smoothing out the fear threaded through my chest. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I jerk my head away, staring deeper into the forest as I huff, my anger with him bubbling into my actions. “Oh, don’t be mad at me,” Shuishi murmurs, dotting my cheek in kisses. “I couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous you looked. Bare and laid out just for me, framed by the cherry blossoms. After all, I see everything so much better than most. I didn’t mean to scare you, my Little Dove.”

Slowly, I let my anger leak out of my veins, leaning into his soft kisses and letting my muscles loosen under his touch. “You’re mean,” I grumble, slowly turning to face him again.

A loose smile hangs on his lips, enjoyment, and amusement mixing with the crimson of his eyes. “I’m mean?”

“Yes.”

“I took time off to celebrate our future marriage. I planned our outing, our walk through the woods, our dinner with our families, and you think I’m mean?”

“I know you’re mean,” I shoot back, shaking my head back and forth in a matter-of-fact fashion.

The laughter that seeps from Shisui ends the trumpet feeling from my comeback. The sound is darker than usual, laying heavy in the air instead of flowing freely with the soft wind that’s been present throughout the day. “Fine, I’ll be mean then,” he purrs, giving enough time for my heart to skip before his hand is wrapped around my throat, using his grip to push me flat to the ground again.

I shriek when my back hits the ground, a sharp smile ripping across my face from the fear and excitement braiding together. After all, what’s the point of having a scary anbu as a boyfriend – and future husband – without a little bit of fucked up playtime?

“Naughty, naughty girl,” Shisui lectures, clicking his tongue at my excitement. His body crushes me into the ground, keeping me pinned against the petals decorating the forest. His thumb rubs against the side of my throat, his other fingers digging into my flesh to control my oxygen intake. “What would our Clan think? Calling one of their pride and joys mean? What would your parents think of you right now? Stripped naked, laid out on the ground, so eager to do everything you’re told.”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I shoot back, my voice pitched from the grip around my throat. “Just like everyone keeps telling me to do.”

The dark laugh is back, echoing among the trees. “Oh, is that so? I didn’t know being a good wife included getting fingered in the woods. Since when did it include stripping bare among the branches? Which housewife taught you that being choked by your husband is a part of sex? Which gossiper told you a good wife gets wet when their husband makes fear flutter in their chest?”

“Your mom, mostly.”

Shisui’s eyes flicker, excitement appearing before quickly being replaced by his fake hardness. “Little Dove,” he exhales, leaning down so he can peck my lips between each of his words. “A good wife watches her temper and most defiantly does not speak of their mother-in-law in such a way.” He pulls away, leaving a very unwanted gap between our lips. “I think you just need some of my attention. Is that what you need, Dove? Do you need some of my attention to get your attitude straight? Should we play?”

A weight drops in my stomach, a new wave of fear swirling in my stomach. My butt already stings, the memories of our last game whirling through my head. The last time Shisui and I played, really played instead of the quick sessions between his missions, I was left with a two-day long hand print and a limp the next morning. Simon Says is not my strong suit.

“Let’s play...” My heart skips as I wait for Shisui’s choice, hoping, praying, that he doesn’t pick Simon Says. “Tag.” I take it back; I’ll very willingly play Simon Says. “I’m it first.”

He releases me, crawling off of me and climbing to his feet. My eyes trail after him, watching Shisui wipe his clothing clean before he turns and walks away from me. My heart skips and my stomach flips as he leans his arm against the tree across from my spot, his head tucked into his elbow.

“One hundred.”

My mind runs a million a minute, every other thought about how unfair this game is. Shisui is a shinobi, a highly trained shinobi, an active duty anbu. The only thing I’m trained in is the things he likes and what makes a good housewife.

“Ninety-nine.”

I’m so going to lose. What’s he going to do when he tags me? What’s he not going to do when he tags me? My thighs rub together as my eyes skirt down his back, cursing his shirt for hiding away his shoulders. I’m so screwed.

“Ninety-eight.”

The numbers finally click in my head. Shisui is giving me a head start, one hundred seconds to run for my life before he chases after me. Three of which I’ve wasted. Once the thought is settled in my mind, I’m up on my feet, quickly glancing around before deciding on a direction. I can’t go forward, that means I’d have to pass him. I can’t go backward, I’ll stumble onto the trail. I choose to go right, jerking my body into motion once the decision is made.

Oxygen is pulled into my lungs as I race away from my boyfriend, trying to get as much distance between us as possible. It doesn’t take long for my body to scream. My lungs are angry from ove working. My legs are angry from the speed I’m forcing them into. My skin is upset at the sharp branches scrapping against it.

My thoughts run right alongside my feet. Every sound makes my heart beat faster, worried Shisui already found me. Theories of what he’s going to do make my nerves bounce with even more excitement and even more fear. Is he going to fuck me? Pressed against a tree or in the grass? Is he going to tease me? Leave me on edge before making me go to dinner, using my irritation and need as a reward for his win? I wonder if he’ll -

“Litte Dove?” Shisui’s chilled voice laces between the trees, making it impossible to tell where it’s coming from. My heart stops at the call for me, my feet freezing, following suit. I stay, stuck in place like a deer that heard the steps of a hunter. Fear trickles from my heart, straight to my arousal like a melting icicle, set on overflowing the pot under it as the spring air warms it. “I’ve decided on my award for winning, are you ready to hear it?”

My heart thumps heavily in my chest, the reminder I need to get my feet moving again. My body jerks, my feet sliding for a moment before shifting back into a run. I don’t know what direction I’m going in. I don’t know which direction I came from. Most importantly, I don’t know where Shisui is. All I do know is that the break from whipping leaves and hard branches has made my skin angrier.

My mind is so torn, focused on not tripping and trying to look for signs of my hunter that I don’t catch the forest line until it smacks me in the face. The brightness, brought by the sun and the gap in the trees, colors the path, burning my eyes that have adjusted to the darkness of the forest. Fear of being caught by someone from the village, or even worse, someone I know, makes me freeze, my steps stalling once again.

Oxygen pumps into my lungs as I soak in the silence, keeping myself hidden in the shadows of the forest edge. Should I turn around or should I run along the forest edge -

“You’re it, Dove.” Shisui strikes before I can shriek, a hand wrapped around my mouth as the other one wraps around my eyes, cutting off my view of the sun just five steps away. “You lasted a lot longer than I thought you would,” he softly praises, his knee pushing against the back of mine until it buckles, gravity pushing me to the ground once again. His breath is heavy in my ear as he feathers my fall to the floor, tickling my pride a bit. I made an anbu winded from our little game of tag.

Slowly, the hand around my eyes slips upward, Shisui’s gentle fingertips brushing through my hair and picking out the leaves it picked up during the chase. My head is gently pulled backward as he plays with my hair, my eyes scanning the branches above us. “Your pretty smell, and all your questions, the sight of you looking like a Goddess on the forest floor, and our little game has me so worked up, Dove. So, I’ve decided we’re going to partake in this year’s breeding season.”

Crows breed during the spring,

And I am a crow.

———————————————————————

[more-sonorous]

what's in a name? (javey)

enjoy this shallow dive into some jack and davey headcanons created in tandem with the beautiful mind of @we-are-inevitable

(and some unrequited??? gay boy angst- HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!)

....

With the cramped apartment of the Jacobs family, there was a small pantry in which they kept their dry food and preserves. Often sparsely stocked with jars of sugared fruit and pickled vegetables, sacks of flour and the occasional precious bottle of cooking oil, this pantry was a familiar sight for the three Jacobs children. David, the middle sibling (and the tallest of the three), was often tasked with fetching the goods stored on the highest shelf. It was through this endeavor that he discovered a bottle of vodka hidden behind a sack of potatoes, refilled every time the contents drew too low.

Before Jack Kelly, this meant nothing to him. But once the two became acquainted, and David was roped into Jack-and-friends' occasional alcohol-ridden rooftop parties? He had the opportunity of a lifetime to impress his new best friend, and David was desperate to please.

“No way, Davey Jacobs!” Jack’s bright laugh seemed to light up the entire rooftop, his dimples appearing with stunning glory and complimenting his endearingly crooked left canine tooth. “How the hell didja get your hands on this?”

Trying to hide the fact that he was practically beaming with pride, preening under the praise, David shrugged and watched Jack examine the mason jar of pure vodka Davey had carefully siphoned out whilst his family slept soundly in their beds. “I have my secrets.”

“Didja steal it?” The charming boy grinned almost impishly, brown eyes alight with mirth.

“… Maybe.” David could scarcely stop his own grin. He’d broken a rule. Simply exhilarating.

Jack positively crowed with delight, smacking David on the shoulder. His hand was impossibly warm, the touch far too fleeting for David’s liking. “Look at you! I really am a bad influence, ain’t I?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

The other boy sat himself down on the fire escape, swinging legs hanging over the edge, and David copied his movements without question. They sat pressed against each other as Jack cracked the lid of the jar for the third time in their scarcely five-minute-long interaction and took yet another sniff of the liquid, scoffing out a laugh of disbelief. “Fuckin’ strong, too.”

“I know. My parents had it hidden in our pantry, up where Sarah and Les can’t reach. I only took half the bottle– I think they mostly use it for wound dressing when Les gets scrapes, but I’m almost positive they take a drink every so often.”

Jack let out a breathy snort of a laugh and bumped his shoulder up against David’s. “Who woulda thought the Jacobs parents kept straight vodka in their pantry? So, Mr. Straight-Laced Schoolboy, what happens when your folks notice halfa their Saturday night relief missin’?”

“I’m going to tell them I took it to help clean up someone who got soaked, I think. I’m sure they won’t notice in the meantime.”

For the first time in his rule-abiding life, David felt very proud of himself for stealing. He could thank Jack Kelly for murdering his good clean conscience and dragging it through the mud. That was for certain. The very same bright-eyed and beautiful boy pushed one deeply tanned hand through his silky black hair before cracking the lid of the jar and leveraging David with a devastatingly attractive smirk. “You know what we oughta do?”

“What?” He breathed, thrilled at the prospect of another one of Jack’s schemes.

“We should crack into this before we give it ta’ the fellas. As a reward for you stealin’ from your folks.” He said, phrasing it like a suggestion, though he was already removing the lid of the jar in it’s entirety.

“Don’t put it like that.”

“Cheers, Dave.” Jack winked, took a swig of the clear liquid, and David stared as his heart went alight in his chest, fluttering wildly against his ribcage. Jack recoiled after swallowing, nose scrunching as a cough shook his shoulders. “Christ almighty, this is strong!”

With laughter shaking him, David reached for the jar. “Give it to me.”

“¡Ni lo sueñes!, Davey, you couldn’t even handle beer last week!”

“Give it to me, Kelly, it’s my vodka.” He teased lightly, managing to throw his upper half over Jack’s lap, using his longer-arms-advantage to wrap his hands around the mason jar. David took a massive drink and tried not to show how badly the stuff burned his nostrils and throat, though that was difficult when he felt like he was coughing fire.

Jack only smiled dorkily at him, pretty grin almost leering. “Told ya so.”

To spite him, David drank again. He coughed again, tears coming to his eyes as he tried to return Jack’s wit; “You can’t tell me not to drink my own vodka.”

“It ain’t even yours, jackass, ya stole it.”

“Perhaps I’m just a common vodka thief.” David grinned, feeling his cheeks begin to heat already as he passed the jar back to Jack. Jack drank again as David loosened his tie, already suffering from a heady rush thanks to the massive and speedy intake of alcohol.

Jack snorted and shook his head to offset the burn of the liquor resulting from his second sip, and the subsequent third he took right after. “Perhaps. Shaddup, Dave, you ain’t hardly a thief. You’se too proper.”

“I can be proper and a thief. I can be proper and a lot of things. I have– I have plenty of secrets beneath my proper exterior.” David said, sagely, enjoying the creeping feeling of tipsiness washing away his anxieties.

“Secrets like what?”

Beside him, Jack was laughing to himself. Those strong hands of his twisted the cap back onto the mason jar they’d sipped from– their lips had touched the same glass (David’s homosexual mind was reeling) – and he could scarcely draw his eyes away from the callouses on Jack’s light palms and the scars littering the backs of his hands, and his muscular forearms. When David got like this (he had only consumed alcohol thrice prior), he often thought about bringing his lips to those scars. Or his tongue. Jack would likely sock him silly if he voiced those secret thoughts, so he decided not to say anything about the matter.

“Secrets like… things I can’t tell you.”

Beautiful brown eyes rolled, and Jack leaned back against the grating of the fire escape with catlike grace. “I bet it’s some shit like… you cheated on a test when you were eight.”

“No.” David scoffed, falling back onto his elbows to better drink in the sight of Jack in the moonlight. “I have legitimate secrets.”

“You’re a shit liar, Dave, I doubt there’s anything about you I don’t know.”

“Not true. For starting, my name isn’t David Jacobs.” He retorted plainly and simply, though once the slightly slurred words spilled from his lips, he mentally noted the extreme overexaggeration of the truth within them. Still, it was worth it, as Jack’s pretty eyes grew wide and his perfect eyebrows jumped towards his hairline.

“You’re fuckin’ with me, ain’tcha?”

Somberly, concealing secret pride, David shook his head. “I’m not fucking.”

Jack laughed one of his easy laughs and lightly punched David, moving impossibly closer. The space between them shrank, and what with the oppressive summer heat, David felt like he could fill the hot air between them with a million little secrets and hidden truths. Jack’s eyes glimmered like they always seemed to do when presented with a lovely piece of gossip. “Then what’s your name, if it ain’t Davey?”

“First of all, my government name is David. You named me Davey.”

“Ah, pish-fuckin’-posh.” A Katherine-ism, Jack-ified. “So your name ain’t David. What is it?”

“It was Dawid Jakubowski. When we lived in Warsaw.” David exclaimed, tilting his head back to examine the foggy swath of midnight sky, stretching endlessly above them. He wondered if the sky above their old home in Europe was equally dark, or if it was freckled with a belt of stars.

Jack’s teasing nature disappeared, replaced with an awed sort of reverence. David could feel brown eyes staring holes into the side of his head. “Aw, shit. I forgot you ain’t from here. That’s real neat. Dah–veet Ja-ko-bof… fuck. I’ll get it eventually.”

“You don’t have to. ‘S not really my name anymore, David Jacobs is my legal name. I was bein’ dramatic– David Jacobs is easier to say, anyways.” He waved a rather dismissive hand, tilting his head to get another glimpse of Jack’s relaxed stature. “‘S why my Aba and Ima had our names changed. Majer, Estera, Dawid, and Sara-- who lucked out, ‘cause they just added an ‘h’-- become Mayer, Esther, David, and Sarah. And of course, the whole last name had to be changed. Americanized. I used’ta think it was a load of bullcrap, but I sorta get it now. We get enough shit for being Jewish. Being obviously Polish Jews would be even worse.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” A contemplative beat of silence washed over the boys, and David allowed a pleasant sort of tingling to occupy his extremities as he watched- nay, admired- the stunning beauty of Jack Kelly, who seemed to have something on his mind. David could tell he was troubled just by the furrow of his brow, and he waited until Jack was ready to speak. That paid off. “My name ain’t Jack, neither.”

David’s interest was sufficiently peaked. He loved learning about Jack’s mysterious backstory. “Really? Race told me it was Francis, once.”

“That fuckass liar. Francis is my middle name. John Francis Kelly. That’s my full name.”

“Mm…” David narrowed his eyes, taking in every feature of Jack’s perfect face from his lovely jaw to the freckle on his left eyelid. “You… don’t look like a John.”

“I agree. ‘S why I have folks call me Jack. ‘N also, Snyder was lookin’ for John Kelly and not Jack Kelly for a while, so I threw him offa my trail for a minute there. But– John ain’t the name I was born with, y’know.” Jack tilted his head towards his curly-haired companion, the slightest smirk on his face. They were co-conspirators. David found himself to be breathless. He’d never felt more closely bonded to a single soul in his entire life. “But'cha can’t tell no one.”

He exhaled reverently. “On my life.”

“Juan Francisco Suárez.” Suddenly, the thick New York accent Jack always carried was gone, replaced entirely with a voice from another world. David was entranced. “‘S the name I was born with. First seven years of my life, I was Juan. Juanito, my Papí and Mamí called me.”

“Juanito.” David breathed, imagining a young, dimpled Jack, happy and content with both of his parents. He wished, suddenly, that Jack could’ve kept them forever. He’d only mentioned them twice in their months-long friendship, but he seemed to love them very much.

“Yeah, but it sounds real white when you say it. So stick to Jack, yeah?” They shared a laugh, playfully pushing at each other until the giggles died, and they found themselves laying side by side and staring up at the stars. “Kinda like we’re different people now. With different names.”

“Mm. Sometimes I feel like a buncha different people rolled up into one. Dawid. David. Davey. ‘S all different.”

“Yeah, but deep down, I think we’re still the same kids. Apparently my Mamí used’ta say I was still her little baby, even when I was pushin’ six. Papí said it pissed me off real bad, guess ‘cause I always felt like a big, tough man. Wanted to be like him, y’know?”

David didn’t dare make a mistake– he knew Jack rarely spoke about his family. Still, he wanted to hear everything. He spoke cautiously; quietly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the careful universe of unshared memories they were passing back and forth. “What was he like?”

“He… he was everythin’. Big ‘n strong. Always had a smile on his face. Dimples, like me. Loved me n’ my ma ‘n my brother so much, wanted the best for us– ‘s why he moved himself and Mamí out of Mexico- that's where they grew up. He figured it would be better for the family they were buildin'. I, uh, I dunno if he was right about that, but they hitched a ride to New Mexico anyways and had me maybe a week after they touched the ground. Went up to New York after that, and the rest is history. He loved us a lot. Tried too hard to provide, and the city fucked him over.”

Maybe David was crazy, or maybe Jack’s eyes were glimmering with tears– either way, David felt like he learned more about Jack within that one conversation than he’d ever learned before. He was piecing together bits of a missing story. Tragic and beautiful. “You said you had a brother? And your mother– what was she like?”

Jack tensed, and he pulled his eyes away from David with unrivaled speed. “Dunno. She died when I was six. Don’t remember. D’you remember Poland?”

An obvious subject change. Disappointed, David accepted it and moved onwards– he’d learn more another day. “Not very well. We immigrated when I was four, so… I only remember bits. Our house was just outside of the city, and we’d ride into the city on horses, with Aba and my grandfather. There were so many rooms in the house– Sarah and I each had our own, and our parents, and my Aba’s parents, too. The grass was always green… and I remember watching my grandfather tune pianos for hours. That’s what he and Aba did– they repaired musical instruments.”

“Sounds… sounds fuckin’ perfect. How’d’ja end up here?”

“People weren’t really kind to us. Because we were Jewish, of course.” David let out a guttural sort of sigh, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Aba fell for all of the lies about the ‘American Dream’ and now we’re here, living in a two-room apartment and counting every last penny. He’s got a ruined leg and his sons sell papers to keep the family housed. And lo and behold, still a bunch of antisemetic bastards surrounding us. I… sometimes I wish we would’ve stayed at home in Poland.”

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have me.”

David’s breath caught in his throat, and he tilted his head to find Jack already staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Something tender- something David didn't understand, couldn't place. The crackle of tension between them made David feel hot from head to toe. “No, I wouldn’t. Maybe ‘s a good thing we moved.”

“I think so. Then we wouldn’t have this vodka.”

“No. And I wouldn’t be a thief.”

“Whatever.” Jack laughed, loud and merry, and just like that, the fleeting moment was dead.

David loved and hated those split seconds when Jack looked at him like the only man in the world. They filled him with a ridiculous sense of hope, brimming and wonderful hope that was always crushed when David was reminded of the ever-present obstacle of Jack’s infatuation with Katherine. Mood suddenly soured, he stared up at the stars. Sometimes, everything felt pointless. He found himself missing his homeland more and more with each passing second.

Jack did not seem nearly as affected, and his laughter petered out into another equally pointless question. “Got any more secrets I oughta know about, Mr. Thief?”

“No.”

“C’mon… there ain’t any girls yet?” Jack grinned boyishly, pushing himself to sit up and swat at David’s arm. He batted Jack’s hands away, growing more and more irritated with each drunkenly sluggish thought.

“No, Jack.”

Jack blew out a sarcastic huff of air, continuing to impishly pester a very unenthusiastic David. “I don’t believe that for a second. You gotta at least be interested in someone. C’mon, Dave, you can tell me–”

“I said no.” He sat up, the world swimming around him for a split second before Jack’s slightly shocked face came into sharp focus. “I’d rather be girl-less and alone than trapped in a dead-end courtship with a rich woman.”

“Dead end?” Suddenly affronted, Jack reeled back, tension coiling in his perfectly broad shoulders. David knew, distantly, that he’d ought to retract that statement. Unfortunately, he was not sober, and he was feeling a great deal of animosity towards Jack and Katherine’s courtship. That animosity was only festering in this state when he felt as though he should have the right to lurch forward and kiss the scar splitting Jack’s left eyebrow, or the right side of his chin, and his hands unwittingly curled into fists.

“If I were to court a woman, which I do not plan on doing anytime soon, I wouldn’t choose one from the class of people that’s known for stealing from the poor. But I digress. I suppose you’re allowed to go back on your own morals if nobody calls you out for it. Ah, yeah, let me lead a strike against the rich, but then go and stick my dick in the rich, too–”

“What the hell? You can’t just get drunk and shit on my fuckin’ relationship, Dave!”

David swallowed, hard, and realized that he’d just singlehandedly soured the night. The fire escape, once their own private little world, was rife with tension. He swallowed the lump in his throat, glanced over Jack’s ‘ready-to-fight’ stance, and forced down all of the vitriol he so ached to spew. “You… um... you’re right. Sorry. I am drunk. Sorry.”

Jack only stared at him, so David stared at his shoes. Scuffed. They’d need to be spit shined tomorrow.

Tomorrow, when Jack would hopefully forget all of this.

“Are you really sorry, or do you believe that shit?”

“I’m really sorry. I’m… uh… ‘m jealous. That you have a girl. And I don’t.” He could barely grit the lie out through his teeth, but it seemed to melt the tension Jack had built up, just enough to save David from the soaking of his life.

Jack sighed, clapping a too-firm hand onto David’s shoulders. “I get it, Dave. You’re gonna find someone.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m serious. You’re smart, ‘n good’lookin’. ‘M surprised a sack like me found somebody before you, y’know?”

He could only shrug. The whole conversation felt forced. Awkward. Of course, that was entirely David’s fault, but still. Jack seemed to feel the ruin of the moment as well, and after a prolonged moment, he removed his hand. David felt nauseous and cold all over, and the night had only just begun. They hadn’t even met up with Race and the others; the drinking had barely begun. David was in for a miserable evening.

“Let’s… uh… why don’t we find the others, yeah?”

“Whatever you say, Jack.”

The rooftop was a short flight of stairs away, and as they ascended, David could only wonder how it was possible to feel so close to having Jack, when he was miles away the entire time. It seemed like he was caught in an endless cycle of chasing the boy, feeling just inches away from brushing into proper romance, and realizing that they truly were miles apart. There wasn’t any misery like it.

At least he had vodka to wash the thoughts away. That night, David Jacobs planned to tap into his Eastern European ancestry.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The condensation of the glass drips from your fingers.. You hate the feeling, slick and slightly irritating. You switch hands as you sway to the music, penned in by strangers as you try to see past them. You’re a bit awkward, off on your own, but no one seems to notice as you stand nearly a head below the rest of clubbers.

You stand on your toes but it doesn’t help. The music and the haze of voices doesn’t help your search. You yipe as you feel a tug on your arm. You turn to Sabrina and Selena, the tall blondes with cocktails as identical as they are. The twins are stunning individually, but together, they’re gobsmackingly gorgeous. And, you must admit, chaotic.

“Where did you two get off to?” You yell over the music.

“Mom!” Selena teases as she rolls her eyes.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you two.”

“We were just getting drinks, duh!” Sabrina shows her bright pink cocktail and takes a slurp through the skinny straw.

“Right,” you look at your ginger ale, the ice has already melted. Responsible and bland, just like you. Designated driver and designated mom friend. “I’m sure that’s all you were doing.”

“Well,” Selena smirks, “we did meet a guy.”

“Really?” You tilt your head sardonically, “you said this was a girls’ night. No dudes.”

“Relax, we know Johnny would have a fit, alright? It’s not like that, we’d just go up for the drinks.”

“You have drinks,” you counter, “and go up where?”

“Private room,” Sabrina says, “come on, don’t be a sourpuss! When’s the last time you went to a private room?”

You almost snarl. They know you aren’t the club sort and it’s obvious you don’t have the looks to be invited up to some playboys crow’s nest. Besides, it gives you the ick. Those men standing up there leering from the windows like some deranged lookouts.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” You rebuff.

“Come on, pleeeeaaaaassseeee,” Sabrina pouts, “we promise, we’re not going to hook up. We’re just going to flirt our way into bottle service.”

“Look, you come up and we’ll pay for the uber. Since we won’t be paying for booze, we’ll be able to afford it,” Selena winks.

“I don’t really…” you sigh. It’s two against one, as always. Even if you wanted to drink, you know you can’t. You have to keep an eye on these two. “Fine, but I mean it. No hook ups. And I don’t want to be up there all night.”

“Yessss!” Selena throws her fist up.

“Ugh, you guys,” you roll your eyes, “you make me feel like a bitch.”

“No, you’re just the responsible one,” Sabrina chuckles and turns on her heel, “come on! Before someone else takes our spot.”

“Are you sure… it’s okay that I’m with you?” You ask as you trail after them, speaking to the end of their long ponytails.

“Of course, we said we had a third. Just… play along.”

“Play along? What does that mean?”

“You don’t have to make out with anyone but like, don’t be frigid.”

“You are making me regret my decision already,” you retort.

“Come on. You can handle it. You’ve never had any issue giving a guy a swat. He gets too handsy and–” she flicks her hand above her shoulder so you can see, “give him one.”

You hold back your complaints. You know once the twins have their minds set, there’s not changing them. All you can do is act as chaperone and make sure they don’t get too messy.

You follow them to a set of spiral stairs and climb up behind them, balancing your ginger ale perilously as you refuse to look down and see the height building below you. Sabrina leads the way, striding up to a door with a golden snake on it. She knocks and peeks over her shoulder, giving a wink. 

It opens and a man appears, clean shaven with neatly parted hair, a glint in his blue eyes as he smirks at Sabrina.

“Selena?” He asks.

“I’m Sab,” she chides.

“Ah, I’ll figure it out,” he kids, “come in.”

He leaves the door open as Sabrina enters, then Selena, and you reluctantly bring up the rear. The music is muffled by the walls as you do and your ears feel ready to pop. You take a drink of your soda to hide your discomfort. 

“Twins,” another man muses. He sits on the sofa, an arm across the back. A satin shirt is unbuttoned way too low on his chest, the mustache adding to the allusion to Tom Selleck several decades ago. 

You’re used to being overshadowed by the twins. You really don’t mind given the circumstance, you have a boyfriend. You nurse the ginger ale as a third man approaches; tall, blonde, and sleek in a powder blue jacket. Probably the best looking of the trio.

“Jonathan,” he introduces himself to the twins.

“Sabrina and Selena,” the man who answered the door stretches his arms around the twins’ waists.

“And our friend,” Selena makes sure to introduce you, waving you forward.

“Ah, pardon.”

“This is Ransom,” Sabrina leans into the man between them.

The man from the couch says nothing, almost scowling as he watches Selena, her eyes on Jonathan as she accepts a polite kiss on the cheek. Yep, doesn’t feel great to be third wheel, though it saves you a lot of trouble.

The girls fall into a low conversation with Ransom and Jonathan. You hover and hesitate before sitting on the other end of the couch, staring at the bubbles rising to the top of your soda. Awkward.

“Couldn’t have found triplets,” the man grumbles as he twists a golden ring on his finger.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you snip.

He looks at you, almost surprised to find you there. His cheek twitches and he sighs, pushing himself up with the armrest. “I need a fucking drink.”

So much for pretenses. You watch him go to the small bar in the corner and you turn your attention to the windows flashing with a spectrum of lights. It’s not entirely unexpected for the night to take this turn, you were just hoping it wouldn’t.

[petvampire]

I’ve got a lot of prompts lined up and chapters to complete, but my brain said ‘WRITE SOMETHING SOFT AND FLUFFY’ and you know what. We all deserve it. 🤣

So: there is a new litter of kittens in Port Townsend. Self indulgent fluff, very safe for work. Also for the purposes of this, cats can interact with ghosts like they’re solid.

-

There’s a new litter of kittens in Port Townsend.

It’s not at all unusual for the Cat King to dote on his newly-born subjects, and they tend to stay within the cannery until they’re grown enough to protect themselves. The cats and their King care for them, regardless of where they came from, whether they’re the offspring of pampered house pets or the scrappiest street cats who prowl the docks.

And with the new frequency of the Dead Boy Detective Agency’s presence at the cannery, they’ve somehow gotten roped into caretaker duties as well.

Niko dove in practically without being asked, cooing over the kittens the moment she saw them. Crystal made some attempt to appear stoic, but she softened quickly - as did Edwin, despite his numerous arguments to the contrary. Charles is happily along for the ride, and since Monty’s been there since the litter was born anyway, he’s already a favorite among the kittens, just as he is among the other cats of the town.

The Cat King will admit, he’s not surprised when each of them has a kitten take a particular shine to him, though he’s terribly amused at how it plays out.

A tiny grey beast haunts Monty’s heels, practically climbing his jeans whenever he stops moving, demanding attention and affection. He’s used to it; he’s helped with several of the litters born since he was turned human again, and most of them don’t even notice the crow-scent on him when they’re that young.

Niko dotes on the runt of the litter, carefully nursing her through ill health until she begins to improve and grow, catching up with her siblings. Pure white and delicate, she starts out shy and gradually grows bolder - much like the girl herself. The dandelion sprites are actually nice to the kitten, to everyone’s surprise, largely because she’s the only one of the litter who has not once tried to eat them.

Crystal has a pair pacing her every move, a calico brother and sister who keep bringing her ‘gifts’ in the form of random leaves, scraps of yarn or destroyed toys, and the occasional dead bug. She wrinkles her nose at the latter, but still pets and praises the kittens, and they look at her with eyes too sharp, too smart for their own good, already bidding fair to be among the Cat King’s sharpest subjects.

He suppresses a laugh when the sole orange kitten claims Charles as his own, because - well, honestly. He’s a bundle of fur and chaos, perches on the ghost’s shoulder like a parrot half the time, making his meowed opinions known loudly and often. Charles will complain half-heartedly from time to time, but he spoils the hell out of the kitten, playing and petting.

Edwin has a sleek black cat who resembles the Cat King’s most recent form writ small, and whose attachment to the ghost seems rather similar. He constantly wants to be close, curling himself in Edwin’s jacket to sleep, tiny enough to tuck himself into the ghost’s coat pocket so he can’t be left behind. He’s ended up at the agency more than once out of sheer refusal to leave Edwin’s side, digging tiny claws into the ghostly fabric and not letting go.

The Night Nurse protests the slowdown on case work while they’re tending to the kittens, but melts the second she sees them, though she tries very hard not to show it. She supposes the agency can take a bit of a break for a while, though they’re not entirely off the job. Just… indulging these beasts while they grow.

If she happens to be making small changes to the office just in case some of these cats end up permanent residents, well, that’s her business.

[undertheopensky]

Catch Your Breath

Whumptober Day 30: “Not much longer…”

Characters: Legend, Sky

Trigger warnings: allergies, breathing difficulty, asthma, falling

Read on Ao3!

---

A lot of people, Sky reflects, thought of allergies as kind of funny. Lots of sneezing, watery eyes, even gastrointestinal misery is just funny. People looking foolish when their bodies betray them.

As he watches Legend struggle to breathe, he thinks those people are stupid.

---

It’s not that they didn’t know Legend has an allergy.

Way back when, when the group as a group was new, and Wind asked what the white stuff Wild was adding to the stew was, they’d realised in short order the differences in their eras had real consequences. Sky and Wind can’t have any kind of dairy. Time has a nut allergy that he says was worse when he was a kid, but no one wants to risk it. Shellfish makes Four violently sick. And Legend?

Legend’s allergic to feathers.

“Okay, I know we promised not to make fun of each other for medical stuff, but feathers?” Warriors says. “That is hilarious. Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope,” says Legend. He’s unbothered, more interested in arranging the contents of his bag to his liking. “When I visited my grandparent’s farm, I was always banned from the cucco coop and anything to do with the pigeons. Prob’ly not as bad as the Old Man’s nut allergy –” and he points a bizarrely carved little twig in Time’s direction that Sky suddenly desperately needs to see in detail – “but it’s something I’m supposed to tell the healers, so.”

“Yes, and thankyou, Legend, it’s important to know,” says Hyrule. The healer smacks Warriors when he goes to open his mouth again, and that’s pretty much the end of it.

After that, it just… doesn’t come up. The one time they visit the ranch and Legend accidentally ends up on cucco duty, he quietly switches out with Four. Otherwise, there’s just not much cause for the heroes to interact with feathered creatures. Though several of them have had experiences with marauding crows, the mischievous birds don’t really count as monsters. They’ve never come across any infected ones at least. (“Not that those bastards need to get any smarter,” Four grumbles with uncharacteristic acid in his tone.) In fact, none of the infected monster hordes they hunt down includes any feathery fiends, except as very occasional decoration. It never seems to bother him, and Legend never brings it up himself. It falls to the back of everyone’s minds.

---

Sky’s carefully cleaning dark blood from Fi when he hears Wind groan in complaint. “What, already?”

He can’t help but agree. It’s been less than five minutes since the last stalfos fell; they’re still breathing hard, still patching up scrapes and bruises and the one arrow-slice from where Wild had not quite dodged in time. And they’re already being thrown through another portal?

At least it didn’t show up right as they were bedding down this time.

One by one, they head for the portal, Sky following at the tail end of the line. It’s not on purpose. He’s just feeling it, a bit, feeling the poor sleep from the night before (ha) and the heavy weight of the humidity. Actually the thought of leaving the humidity behind is what finally drives him to step through and let the dark nothingness of the portal suck him under.

It’s always an eerie feeling. Ghostly fingers trailing over exposed skin. The cold chill of the void, so dark it doesn’t matter whether your eyes are open or closed. The adrenaline rush of falling. Wind yanking at his hair, his clothes –

No, wait, there’s no wind in the void. He’s really falling.

Sky opens his eyes to a landscape of eye-searing white touched with blue and gold. It’s dizzying, it’s blinding, it’s familiar. For a moment all he can feel is the incandescent joy of coming home.

Then he remembers eight heroes with no loftwings to catch them, and his whistle is more than a little desperate.

Flashes of colour spread out below him, bright against the clouds; Sky starts marking a path in his head, who to catch first. Wars and Time and Hyrule and Twilight, all the people without gliding items. He prays the others can hold out long enough for him to come back for them. None of them are meant for true flight, but with so many already – can Crimson even take the weight? If it came down to it, who would he leave behind –

A loftwing’s cry breaks his train of thought, and the relief would knock him over if he was standing. Crimson’s diving for him, but a pair of Skyloft knights are diving alongside, aiming for his scattered friends. He doesn’t have to catch all of them.

Sky twists on himself to face the clouds; the wind is tearing at his hair, at his sailcloth, at his blurred and watering eyes. It’s freezing, he’s not wearing as many layers after Wild’s muggy jungles, but he doesn’t have time to change. All he really needs right now is his sailcloth, not to catch but to stabilise.

Crimson’s back rises to meet him. Sky hits the saddle with stinging force and scrambles to get into position; to see over Crimson’s head and tip him back down towards his still-falling brothers. Who’s closest, who’s –

There’s a flash of red that isn’t Crimson, as Legend wrestles with his Roc’s Cape and tries to keep it from tearing free. It’s not made for this kind of use, and – he’s close. If he spirals around – Four is lighter and his cape held him longer, and Crimson can snatch him out of the sky with his talons before it gives out, and then they’re dropping through the sky after Legend when the magic in his Cape falters and fails.

Four screams. Sky can’t spare the breath or the focus to reassure him – they’re drawing even with Legend, then easing underneath, then coming out of the dive in a smooth arc that intercepts Legend’s fall at the precise moment he crosses Sky’s saddle.

Before his momentum can drag him back into open air Sky snaps an arm around Legend’s waist, as ungiving as iron. Legend helps by clinging to Crimson’s saddle. Passenger secured, Sky quickly scans the air. The last scrap of colour has just been snatched up by a third Knight, and if he squints he thinks he counts out the six of them, all safely in someone’s charge. Everyone is safe. He didn’t lose any of them.

Adrenaline and panic-sweat cooling on his skin, Sky shivers. They’d gotten almost frighteningly close to the cloud layer – Sky’s a knight, he’s used to seeing it, never mind how often he’s deliberately dropped through it – so it takes a few heavy wingbeats for Crimson to steer their trajectory back upward. It’s slow going. It gives him time to sit back, to steady his breathing, to realise just how fast his heart was beating and let the grey haze at the edges of his vision fade away.

Legend coughs. Then coughs again.

Sky frowns. There’s a thin whistle to the vet’s breathing that the wind had disguised. “Legend, you okay?” he asks, just as the veteran doubles over into a real coughing fit.

He sounds awful. He hadn’t taken any real blows in the fight, he shouldn’t be struggling to breathe like this. Had he been hiding an illness? After the fit Hyrule threw the last time Wind pretended he didn’t have a cold the whole group had wordlessly decided to just let the healer have his way, and he’d thought Legend was on board with that.

It doesn’t – it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to bring something up, though it’s deep and in his chest. It sounds like he can’t get any air, almost like Sky when the thick air of the Surface gets overwhelming. Like his throat is closing over, wind whistling through narrower and narrower passages –

Sky realises all at once.

Not an injury, not an illness – Legend’s allergic to feathers, and he just crash-landed on a whole platform of them.

Sky scrambles to prop him up, though he suspects the damage is done. Legend leans back against him. His breathing is maybe a little easier with his chest open, coughs louder and further apart. When he sucks in air, it sounds like it’s screaming through metal pipes, high and thin. But he can breathe.

They level out. There’s an island in the distance that the overloaded knights are headed for, but it’s small and isolated, intended as a jumping point for people with loftwings to catch them. It’ll take time to explain the situation, that they don’t have loftwings and need lifts back to the mainland, and that’s time Legend may not have.

Sky leans forward, holding Legend to his chest, and tries to think.

They need the infirmary, they’ll be able to treat the breath attack – but then they need somewhere feather free for Legend to rest, and there’s nowhere on Skyloft that fits that description. Loftwings are everywhere. The infirmary’s even got special-built troughs for them when their riders are in there and they refuse to leave! Every building has windows Loftwings can open and at least stick their heads in, if not hop straight through, and every floor bears scratches from their talons.

Legend wheezes. His fingers dig painfully into Sky’s supporting arm.

Determination solidifies. That will have to wait.

Sky leans into the turn as Crimson changes headings. Goddess, he loves his loftwing – as soon as Sky realised what they needed Crimson was responding. It’s the loss of this kind of bond that’s so devastating to him, when he considers the disappearance of loftwings over the ages. That the others have never known having a partner who knows your every move.

Legend’s stopped coughing but his breathing’s worse: pained little wheezes as he struggles to breathe, shuddering with every inhale like it’s a fight – his face is red and his eyes are wet and Sky doesn’t know if it’s breathlessness or pain.

“Hang in there Legend, we’re nearly there,” he says.

When they make landfall Crimson hovers long enough to drop Four the short, safe distance to the thickly grassed area meant for such deposits, then they’re off again. Sky hears Four shout behind them. Realises belatedly that between the wind and his own terror Four likely didn’t know what was happening – but he’s safe where he is, and if someone else finds him they can help him regroup if the others don’t land in the same spot, and –

That’s a problem for later. Right now, he needs to save Legend’s life.

No sailcloth dives with a passenger. Crimson lands on the tiles right in front of the infirmary with a soft grunt, and Sky flashes gratitude at him as he throws himself off his back and runs.

“Aren,” he shouts as he shoulders the door open, “Aren, I need help!”

[bubblecat-co]

The Hunt is On - RRAU

The Scooby doo chase in Minrathous is about to start

Timeline cleaning this is two days After three words. a little bit after Missing. a comfort amongst the cold happens in between this one

Rooks Mentioned

isiah/Heloise: @a-mumbling-nerd

Nels: @madrabbit014

Daire: @legendstrauma

Portia: @booksncatsworld

word Count: 2,450

It only took her two days away from the lighthouse to finally feel as if she gained control again. Viago hadn’t questioned her stay back in the Antivan city, instead, he did what she needed, put her to work. She spent those two days running around Treviso dealing with any aftermath of the dragon, antam, or any other small task that he could pull out of his pockets. No one had come to see her well not until today.  

Isiah walked through the Cantori diamond, his eyes scanning around hoping to see the one face he was looking for. Instead he didn’t find her, which meant he would have to ask around and possibly ask the Fifth Talon. Isiah rounded around to the medical area, where beds lined and injured crows from the dragon attack mingled most of them were ok their injuries being only mild compared to what he saw in Minrathous. As he went to turn someone called out to him. “Isiah! That is your name right?” With his one bad eye, he completely missed the crow he had met briefly on the field Romeo, Pretty boy is what Aria called him, and next to him was an elven woman with red hair that was let out in loose curls. She watched him intently, her green eyes gazing deep into his as Romeo murmured something into her ear. The way she looked at him reminded him a little of Eurydice. 

Isiah began to walk towards the two, his feet feeling slightly heavy but he kept a smile on his face. “That is my name. You’re Romeo right?” 

“That would be my name, yes. This here is my lovely Wife, Lucia.”

“Fiance, we never actually got married.” Lucia corrected him, her face stayed in the same expression but her eyes grew slightly soft when she glanced at the injured human beside her. 

Romeo let out a small laugh “You are my love all the same. I supposed you came looking for Aria? I was wondering when you would show. You don’t seem like the type to let her run away without chasing her.” Lucia scoffed next to him but he didn’t pay any mind. “The girls that Viago took in, have the tendency to do that.” 

“Yea I actually did. Have you seen her? Or know where I can find her?”

“She’s probably locked up in her room, like always. If not arguing with the Governor.” Lucia muttered.

“No, I heard Viago has put a wall between those two.” Romeo whispered, “I don’t think she and the Governor have been in the same room since she left for the lighthouse.”

“Where is her room?” Isiah just wanted to find a way out of this conversation and to find the crow he was searching for. Time was already running and at this rate, it would take them weeks to find Dáire or Heloise, they might even be injured already. 

“I am not to sure, my friend. I would ask Viago or Teia they know.” 

“You don’t know where her room is? Aren’t you two friends?”

Romeo let out a small laugh. “Friends are different in the crows.”

“Friends are different with Aria is what he means.” Lucia leaned back in her chair. “Aria was known to keep many people at arm's length, very rare to see her interact with anyone on more than the surface level. Viago is the most she has an interaction with and those other girls.” 

Romeo cast a small glance over at Lucia, reaching his hand out for hers before returning his gaze to Isiah. “You don’t want to hear us go on and on about your amor when you can just go to her.” 

“Yea, thanks anyways.” Isiah walked away preparing himself to talk to the fifth talon himself, he may have better luck with Teia she seemed friendlier than the master poisoner who raised Aria. Though he couldn’t hide from Viago forever not if he wanted to keep Aria in his life. 

—

Aria carefully organized her blades on the small desk that was kept in the tiny room. Sometimes she found herself missing the tiny room that was so simple, so perfect and here she could tell the time easier by just walking out of it and seeing where the sun was. She also used to get better sleep here, the responsibility wasn’t as bad but still prevalent. There was no crows she had to watch and no meetings she had to attend. The room was filled with paper, plans. She had to find them, before they hurt anybody else or maker forbid it, themselves. Notes from the lighthouse was scattered around, most from Nels. Aria wanted to keep an update on it even while gone especially on the crows themselves, especially if Portia returned. 

The crow had seen the destruction in Minrathous and she knew that Portia had once run in those streets. Nothing could top than seeing the place you are from in shambles after you leave it. She could remember seeing the Antiva city’s alienage after years of leaving it, it had changed so much and it was struggling while Aria wasn’t. 

There was a faint creek as the door slowly opened, Aria’s hand dove to one of her throwing knives that she kept strapped on her before throwing it with a precision towards the door. Isiah stood with wide eyes and slight look of fear on his face, these damn Mercars and their no knocking habits. “Tesoro… I-” She cleared her throat “I didn’t expect to see you.” the knife was lodged into the wall next to him, just missing his shoulder by a few inches.

 His eyes carefully looked around the small room and suddenly she became very aware that he was seeing into her life before the lighthouse. The room must have seemed sad looking, two bookcases one filled with vials and blades and the other sat right beside the door filled with books–not as many as there once was most she moved to the lighthouse with her. Her own eyes slowly fell to the floor were there was obvious scraps on the ground from when she would push the bookcase in front of the door when she slept. It was a habit she kept up in the lighthouse but it wasn’t as obvious, these marks were prominent from the three years she spent in Treviso. 

“This is nice.” Isiah commented as he fully entered the room, his eyes falling onto the very sad and small bed that was pushed up against one of the walls with a rickety nightstand beside it. “I don’t have any idea of what I was expecting.” 

“It’s not the fanciest, but I’m not one for fancy.”

“It’s very you.” his eyes stopped, meeting hers. For a moment her breathing stopped and a faint rush of nervousness slithered through her mind. The last time they talked was two days ago and he had told her he loved her. Then she left, not because of him because of the twisting feeling inside from blood magic at least she believed it had nothing to do with him. It very well could be, something about de Riva’s and emotions. Instead of a hurt look or frustration he gave her a sweet smile, that damn smile. It always made her heart flutter and had a tendency to make her believe everything would turn out ok even with her pessimism screaming at her. 

Glancing away she moved her eyes to the daggers in front of her that were paired with notes from Nels, Dáire had left the lighthouse and several other shadow dragons had ran to Minrathous leaving the lighthouse. Including her target which she was just about to get ready and began her hunt for. She could feel Isiah’s eyes on her as she kept her own focused on her blades. Her mind worked trying to think of what to say to him and how to say it. Sorry for running, sorry for not telling you that I loved you, sorry for brushing you off again, Sorry for being me, Sorry for being the way I am. Which one did he want to hear? Which one did he need to hear? And which one did she need to say? 

When she turned back to face him, he was in front of her. How did he get so close without her noticing? A master assassin being caught off guard by someone else, it shocked her as much as it would make Viago seeth. Either she was too far in her head or there was a sense of safety when he was near. She didn’t know which one she hated more either way it was bad for a crow, at least she thought it was bad. “So who told you about my little room?” She titled her head slightly letting a smile fall on her lips. Play it cool, play the part. Do not let him see something was twisted inside of her. 

“Well, I tried talking to Viago first but… anyways Teia ended up leading me here. She wasn’t sure if you were actually in here or not. So I’m glad I found you.” his smile only widen as he looked at her. 

“Am I needed back at the lighthouse? Or is this a personal house call?” 

Isiah rubbed the back of his neck with a small chuckle “You’re always needed. But…” he trailed off as seriousness crossed his features “It’s about Heloise.”

Everything around her seemed to freeze in place. Mierda. The younger elf had slipped her mind when she left for Treviso. Last she check on her she seemed ok, as ok as Heloise could be. There was always anxiety lurking in her, she was always ready to bolt and hide at any given chance but she wasn’t hurt. No external Injuries or anything of the sort. That was during the dragon attack which was two days ago, two days and anything could’ve happened even with how careful she tended to be. 

“Dáire ran off to Minrathous and seems that Heloise chased after him.” 

Thoughts began to race through her mind as she perfectly organized them as quickly as she could. Dáire she knew was in Minrathous, but Heloise? She had no idea, and she was chasing after the shadow dragon instead of being the one chased. That was interesting but also… Minrathous was in chaos venatori running wild in the streets ready to turn anyone into a victim and Heloise was an elf, a very small elf. If she was chasing after Dáire, it probably meant she ran in alone. While Aria knew how capable Heloise was she also knew the venatori and was aware that someone else was running in the streets of Minrathous and as far as she knew was using blood magic on others just as they did on her. “Fuck.” she grumbled. Isiah caught on fast to her panic. 

“We can go after them… Together.” his hand grabbed hers, and she felt ready to cry from the gentle gesture. Maybe that’s a bit over dramatic but she didn’t expect it not after their last conversation. Not after she basically berated him for choosing her over his own city, which was a very romantic gesture even if it made the guilt hole within her grow. “I won’t let you chase after Heloise alone, and also Dáire is my sibling too, so I have to go after him.”

Her eyes were stuck on their hands, stuck on the way his hand felt in hers even with her glove in between their flesh. Everything felt like how it was meant to be, him and her. Allowing this selfish act of loving him might be a bad idea in the end of everything but frankly in this moment and every moment they have shared since the night on the rooftop she could care less. Slowly she glanced up at him, finding an urge to tell him everything. Dropping details about her life that only two others knew. Wanted to explain the corruption she felt, the way that even after nine years her blood felt dirty within her, how she had saw her mother’s body after being saved, how in some moments she swears she sees her papa, and what happened during the dragon attack and whose face it was that had done it. She opened her mouth to say it but she couldn’t so instead she pulled the shadow dragon into a kiss.

She could feel his shock, but it was brief and melted quickly as he returned the kiss. One hand reaching up and finding a place on the back of her neck to pull her in, deepening the kiss further. When the two broke away she couldn’t help the small giggle from the smudge of black that stained his lips. She pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped it away. “Let’s go and get out siblings, shall we? First, I would like to stop by the lighthouse and see if Portia got back.” 

“Wait Portia is gone too?” 

“Yea she went quiet after the dragon attacks. I’ve been keeping an eye on her. Also, I need to gather more information before we start running around Minrathous. The best way to find a target is to have an idea of where they are already.”

Isiah nodded along as her squeezed her hand and smiled. “You’re the expert. Lead the way.”

–

Aria stood in her office, gathering different poisons, blades, and herbs and carefully placing them on her. Portia was back in the lighthouse and had just left her room after a time of Aria comforting the young girl. Part of her wished she could show more of how she cared for her, but she was taught by Viago on all aspects of life.  She would buy a tea set for her when in Minrathous after all she been through and the array of emotions that rose in her after seeing Dock town, Portia deserved a treat like that, and it was the best Aria could do to show she cared. 

Before Portia had walked in, she got a possible location for Heloise's last whereabout as well as her second target’s. It would probably take days before they would be back, so she was preparing for a long trip. Sorta like a vacation with the elf she loved. Now she left her room, with a small bag of things again, but this time she wasn’t going alone, and she was hunting for someone instead of trying to run from them. She smiled at Isiah as they entered the Eluvian to Minrathous. 

[randomwriteronline]

Don’t have much to ask so I’ll just ask for something simple. Just Matoro helping Kongu with a Gukko bird who got injured. We hardly see Matoro interacting with rahi since on Metru Nui he was interested in them and had a small pet shop.

Even without the frightened and pained screams, Matoro would have had no trouble finding the captain of the Gukko Force on the slopes of Ko-Wahi: his trusted Ka made for a quite striking splotch of color in the stark white he was used to.

Kongu jumped all around the large flying Rahi like a crazed mite, checking him for damage as he struggled not to sink in the snow - oftentimes disappearing within it only to hurriedly peek through again, sputtering and slapping the candid mound off his Miru with increasing annoyance.

The Ko-Matoran slid expertly down the cliff to reach the pair as he called out: "Need a hand with him?"

A sigh of relief exploded like a war cry from the captain: "Frostfolk! Mata Nui bless, helplend diretime for my featherfriend I need, and here you are - skyhigh everthanks! Sheltermovemust now, or Ka's wings will shatterfreeze!"

Matoro watched him for a second more, seeming a little disoriented; then he got to work.

He slipped beneath the large bird, carefully placing his hands under his belly and around his back whilst taking care not to hinder the massive wingspan, sustaining the beast that was clearly rather unsteady on its feet. Kongu set himself in a mirrored pose: together like that, the Gukko's previously overwhelming weight became manageable, and the two Matoran hurried their way towards a cave not too far away from where the Gukko had crashlanded.

"Everbrave, evercalm," Kongu soothed his companion when they at last laid him down. The mighty Rahi chirped in pain, shaking his head in a desolate manner; he gently rubbed his beak to bring him comfort. "Strongwilled featherfriend you are. Betterfeelmake soon."

The Ko-Matoran got a better look at the beast.

One of its legs had trouble sustaining its weight, but did not seem broken or otherwise damaged: it was likely a small, temporary injury, which would probably have handled itself with the help of some rest and a few more things he had at the Koro. It was cloudy, yes, but it was still early enough in the day for the weather to clear while there was still light outside, and he was confident the Rahi would have no trouble making the trip there in a few hours, especially since he could count on their support.

One of its wings, on the other hand, looked to be slumped quite significantly and struggled to move at all, let alone be pulled closer to the rest of the body.

"His left wing is dislocated," he noted out loud.

The Le-Matoran inspected the area grimly: "Trueright... Frightstorm suddencaught us, and Ka limbpulled trying to fly safeway."

With a few nods, Matoro gathered some snow: "I can pop it back in."

"You? Gukkobird jointfixing?"

"I promise I will be very careful."

"Ka won't let you! He's touchpicky. Only Turaga, Tamaru and I can."

In that case...

He wasn't as good talking birdspeak as he was translating it, but trying never hurt: so he gave a few tweets and clacks accompanied by strange shrugs, hoping to convey an explanation of his intentions and a request for permission.

The large bird eyed him curiously (no doubt struggling to interpret his lackluster pronounciation) but at last straightened its posture, indicating the message had been relayed with success. He seemed rather pleased to be asked for once instead of having grubby Matoran hands stick themselves where he didn't want them, truth be told - and perhaps that was why he produced a low crow without any bristling, and leaned his head on Kongu's shoulder to leave his injured shoulder open to the interpreter's care.

Kongu blinked: "Well," he started without managing to go further, finding himself at a loss for words.

Matoro climbed up to the injured joint and rubbed as much snow as possible on it, to numb it with the cold to at least try not to make it hurt too much; he then carefully grabbed hold of the dislocated wing, securing his grip on it...

He could hear Kongu murmur praises and reassurances in treespeak to his loyal Gukko, gently smoothing his palm on his powerful body in slow soothing motions as Ka cuddled closer to his head.

He steadied himself, sucked in a breath--

And thanked the Great Spirit the captain had such a tight grip on his steed, or his back would have likely been snatched right up and snapped in the Rahi's beak as he fulminously turned around with a loud painful caw as the whole limb audibly popped right back in its rightful socket.

He let go immediately afterwards, falling back onto the ground as Ka flapped both wings hard.

He did not stay down for long, though - as strong arms pulled him right back up: "A frostfolk righthand tongueknown mountguide Gukkofixer!" Kongu exclaimed more than enthusiastically while his winged friend shook his head in merryment. "Manyskilled, aren't you! How did you even learn? Turaga Nuju birdcareneeds?"

"No, he does not," Matoro managed to reply after a few seconds.

"Manyskilled but poorreflexed, eh?" the captain noted: "You don't timelose this much when wordclearing Turagabirdtongue."

"In my defense, he doesn't speak as fast as you!"

"Hm. Trueright, groundwalkers treespeakstrugglewith."

He chuckled without malice at the glare his showing off earned him, but Matoro's eyes turned a little warmer as Ka sang his delighted thanks between flutters.

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- First Solo Concert

Part 71

2018

4th January

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks as I finish getting ready in my dressing room

“I’m so nervous” I reply “like I know I went on tour with Justin but that was his name behind everything know it’s mine so if it’s a shit show…”

“Which it won’t be” Harry interrupts “you’ll be amazing as usual”

“Thanks” there’s a knock on my door pulling my gaze away from Harry “come in”

“5 minutes” Olivia says coming into the room

“Thanks. Olivia can you take Harry to his seat?”

“Course I can”

“See you later. Proud of you” Harry bends down and kisses my forehead before following Olivia. I turn back to the mirror and take a deep breath

“You’ve got this” I say to myself. I get up and make my way back stage and to the little hatch that will lift me up. I can hear the crowd cheering my name. The music for Shut Up starts playing earning everyone to scream. I start being lifted up to the stage with my microphone in hand

“My presence sweet, and my aura bright. Diamonds good for my appetite. Guess it fuckin' just clicked one night. All them demons helped me see shit differently. So don't be sad for me. How you been spending your time? How you be using your tongue? You be so worried 'bout mine? Can't even get yourself mine. You know you sound so dumb. You know you sound so dumb” I then point my microphone for the crowed to sing “so maybe you should shut up”

The next song I sing is Alive And Unwell. Then I take a moment to interact with the crowed

“Thank you so much for being here tonight. When I announced I was going on tour I was so scared that no one would buy tickets but tonight is completely sold out so thank you from bottom of my heart” again everyone screams, making almost shed a tear “ok so the next song I’m going to sing seemed to have become a fan favourite” the words Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart can be heard “this is Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart” I say chuckling. The music starts and as I start singing I notice the lights from peoples phones start to glow. I look over to where Harry is with his mum and my dad. In this moment my heart feels content and I know I’m completely and utterly in love with Harry Styles.

That night after the concert I’m exhausted, but I feel like I could do it all over again. I lay down in the hotel room bed just as Harry walks out of the bathroom wearing just his boxers. He crawls in next to me as I post a Instagram photo

“You were amazing” Harry mumbles kissing my neck making me giggle “god I’m so fucking proud of you” he moves to my shoulder “let me show you how proud I am”

“You’re going to be the death of me” I moan as his mouth gets lower.

1st February

“Happy birthday” I wake Harry up with breakfast and a take away cup of tea

“Mmm thank you love” his morning voice making me feel a shiver down my spine. Harry takes the cup for my hands and place it down on the bedside table, he then takes the take out food from me

“Sorry we’re celebrating your birthday in a hotel room and in the arena” I sit down on the bed

“Don’t be silly” Harry shakes his head “wouldn’t have it any other way”

“Are you going to be in the crowd tonight or backstage?” I ask

“Since Mitch is coming we will be in the crowd”

“Ok”

“Why?”

“No reason” I smile.

“Hello Dublin!” I wave to the crowd who scream “I hope you are all having a good night tonight” I take a quick sip of water “now today is someone’s birthday” the crowd then all shout Harry’s name “he’s here tonight so let’s see if we can find him and sing happy birthday” I scan the crowd and find him “ok 1, 2, 3, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you happy birthday dear Harry, happy birthday to you” we all sing “now since it’s his birthday, I think it’s only right I sing a Harry styles song” I hear different songs being shouted at me “ok ok” I chuckle in to the mic “this is sweet creature”

Photo credits to:

1. ARISTYLES on tumblr

2. Vashappeninggrande

3. Aristylegrande

9th March

“I’m going to miss you” I hug Harry inhaling his sent while holding on to him

“I know, I’ll miss you too, but we knew what we were getting into” Harry places a kiss on my head while stroking my hair

“I know, just sucks we’re both on tour at the same time”

“We will be ok. I’ll phone you any time I have a free moment, and if I have a few days free I’ll come see you”

“So will I” I sigh as Harry’s phone dings letting him know his taxi is here “I don’t want you to go” I can feel, tears threaten to fall

“I’ll see you soon. Promise” I look up at Harry who leans down and kisses my lips “I love you”

“I love you too” we hold each other for another few seconds before Harry releases me and leave me alone in my hotel room. I look around sighing, not having to be at the arena tonight, I pick up the TV remote and put on a random channel before getting under the covers feeling lonely already.

[tenebriskukris]

Oshi No Ko Chapter 159 - My Thoughts/Analysis

This chapter certainly was one of the chapters of all time. Spoilers for Oshi No Ko Chapter 159 below.

We start off the chapter with Nino stabbing Ruby. I honestly half expected not to come back to this scene and instead focus on another character before the stabbing but it seems the manga is deciding to deal with these plot developments. 

Everything we did would be pointless if Ai wasn’t number one. And so would everyone’s death. Hmmmmm. I wonder if she’s talking about a certain dead actress that Hikaru dealt with a few dozen chapters ago.

DAMN Ichigo finally doing something! Seems that Detective Akane has caught Nino red handed. I’ll have plenty of paragraphs to vomit up on This Garbage Twist later, I’m sure. And with Ruby now out of Nino’s reach—that’s more or less game over for Nino. Hopefully we’ll be able to hear her squeal about her deal with Hikaru and all that jazz.

This entire scene is just hilarious in how soap opera it is. What if Nino decided to stab Ruby in the neck instead of the stomach? What if she brought a gun? What if she just had a pipe or a sword or any kind of blunt weapon and decided to beat her to death? A knife proof vest is cool and all—but there are so many ways Nino could’ve attempted to kill Ruby and a knife proof vest wouldn’t have done much of anything. It’s a small nitpick, but one that betrays the manga’s lack of thought put into this scene. 

Now that I think about it—how did Nino even find this area where Akane sprung the trap??? The answer is that Nino’s been stalking Ruby but I find that explanation doubtful—is what I would say if the manga would show us things instead of force feeding them to us. I need a giant anvil with the words “SHOW DON’T TELL” written on it to fall on the writers’ heads. 

Sorry, what? Ryosuke managed to rizz up Nino? With how terrible they both were as people they more than deserve each other but I am squinting very heavily at this. Nino being Ryosuke’s boyfriend in the past would’ve been very much publicized if it got out publicly—did Ichigo not tell the police about it? Perhaps this is how Aqua figured out that Nino was involved with Ai’s murder? I’ll need to think about this more after the chapter. 

When I told him to die, he obeyed me just like that. Well there goes my remaining sympathy for Nino as a person. She wasn’t even a very good character but one could make a half-baked case for her being not as bad as a person as she was before this chapter but with this revelation it’s just not looking very good for her.

If Ai was nothing but an ordinary girl, what would that make us then? Also ordinary people, but it’s easier to believe that Ai was special than recognize your own inferiority, it seems. Just like Ichigo I have zero sympathy for her. Throw her down the garbage chute and let’s dispense with this horribly written antagonist so we can get back to the important bits. 

Ai just wanted to be normal friends with you. That’s what Ruby said, Akane? Maybe this moment would’ve been more poignant if Ruby herself was telling it to her, you know???

Who on earth made you and Ryosuke do this? Hikaru’s figure looms over in the distance. 

The concert??? Bit of an odd scene change from the last few panels but I guess we’re just chugging along. This manga isn’t disproving the horrible pacing allegations any time soon. The first concert had a good amount of setup and you’d think the final concert would share similar or better writing quality but unfortunately not. 

Ruby with dual white star eyes!!! That’s my girl! And she’s pointing to a star, too! Crow Girl’s words echoing back to this concert…

SHE DID THE AI POSE!!! THE ONE ON THE FIRST COVER HOLY SHIT! RUBY FANS ARE EATING GOOD TONIGHT!

And another scene cut. To…Hikaru and Aqua? It’s odd that he wasn’t at the concert but I suppose if he had known about some of this beforehand he would be here instead of at the concert but I’m curious to see how this interaction pans out—did Hikaru call him here or has Aqua been following him around?

You’re a nasty liar who’s been telling lies for your own sake. And the final panel with Hikaru’s grinning face. Well then—let’s see how this pans out before the end of the line. 

I have a lot of thoughts about this chapter—but I’ll start with the trap that Akane set for Nino.

I spent a good amount of time in my last analysis ruminating on how Ruby would survive her stabbing. didn’t give the possibility that Akane disguising herself as Ruby any consideration not because I didn’t consider said possibility—but because I felt like it was yet an objectively bad writing decision for the manga to take—and yet I couldn’t help but be completely unsurprised when it actually happened. 

This “plot twist” is poorly executed. In a vacuum, this turn of events is completely fine, but this manga has already been allergic to good pacing for some time now so the scene falls completely flat on its face. This is a type of twist that had little to no preparation behind it and even contradicts the characters’ previous behavior.

Aqua has consistently refused to let Akane participate in his revenge scheme despite her being more than willing to do so—that’s one of the points that they talked about when they broke up. He refuses to let other people help him for his revenge even though it would be helpful to him—so him getting Akane on board without showing the viewer a single thing leading to this development doesn’t pass the sniff test—it’s an asspull.

While canny viewers would be able to guess at the fact that Akane disguised herself as Ruby, the basis for that logical assumption was built on sand—there simply wasn’t enough basis for that conclusion besides a single panel that we saw in the last chapter—and yet it happened. It’s a contradiction between how the characters were previously characterized and the events of the narrative. In an ideal scenario a decent writer would be able to bridge that gap before a plot twist like this was to occur—and at the very least explain it in some detail after the twist has been settled—but considering the manga didn’t even give us the good graces to SHOW US that Akane and Aqua were now working together to catch Nino I don’t expect the manga to deliver us that kind of self-reflection. Just speedrunning to the ending to the manga’s detriment.

The funny thing is that I like this idea—but the execution is straight up trash. It would be a believable sequence of events if this beat was given the time to breathe—Aqua swallowing his reservations and asking Akane for help when Ruby’s safety is put into question. It gives Akane something to do and helps flesh out how much Aqua cares for Ruby that he would go to these lengths for her. Give us insight into how Aqua and Akane are now working together and how they both independently came to the conclusion that Nino was also part of Ai’s murder.

Now—Ryosuke and Nino. I’m oddly ambivalent on this matter. Reframing Ryosuke’s actions with what we hear from Nino is just—meh. It makes his words to Ai when he murdered her and his behavior kind of, I dunno. Hypocritical? But anyone who decided to murder their favorite idol and then hang themselves because their partner said so definitely isn’t right in the head so I can forgive some of that.

This Nino-Ryosuke connection does sort of nag at me, however. Ryosuke as a character didn’t need this additional bit of characterization. His demeanor as an obsessed idol fan, while horrible, is partially grounded in reality. It doesn’t break the suspension of disbelief that some crazed fan who was stuck in a parasocial relationship with his favorite idol would do something like this since stakers assaulting Japanese idols isn’t unheard of. I dunno—it doesn’t really add anything to him but it doesn’t detract anything either? Does feel a bit like an asspull, though. You’d think Ichigo would tell the police that Nino and Ryosuke were in a relationship after Ai got stabbed but I guess he could’ve done that to protect Nino since he wasn’t sure she was involved? Still, this entire Nino-Ryosuke connection is just a minor nitpick in the stack of more objectively bad decisions that the manga has made in the last ten chapters alone that I don’t feel as much grief into ripping it apart because it’s just not that interesting.

I guess linking Nino and Ryosuke does answer some nagging questions that the series has thrown at the reader in a completely backhanded way. We know that it’s likely that Ryosuke met Hikaru at the hospital where the twins were born through Crow Girl’s words and it’s through him that he likely also met Nino which ties the three of them all together. Did the manga do this intentionally? Absolutely not—it isn’t as smart as it appears to be and certainly isn’t well written enough for me to conjure up hypothetical answers to questions that it should have the decency to answer before the manga culminates. 

The concert is also a topic I have some thoughts about. For one—it was a bit of a shitefest. I loved the Ruby panels, don’t get me wrong, but you’d think that the final idol concert for Kana would get bit more setup—especially with Ruby and Mem’s thoughts on Kana leaving, or hell, anything that wouldn’t make these panels feel too much like a slideshow of images without much substance. Alot of style—very little substance. 

A small thing that made me laugh was that Ruby was upstaging Kana at her own graduation concert. Very much deserved after Kana took the spotlight during the first B-Komachi concert despite her being, y’know, an actor.

In any case—it’s downright impossible to deny the Ruby-Ai parallels after this chapter and That One Panel. While I am dissatisfied in many aspects on how Ruby’s journey to surpass Ai was executed—it’s clear that the idea was horribly butchered because of how the manga was generally soaring downhill instead of the idea itself being objectively bad. I still like the development, of course, but I am more than willing to throw rotten tomatoes at some of the horrible writing decisions that the authors have done to her throughout the series. The fact that Ruby only got a decent amount screentime at the fucking halfway point of the series is a crime.

Now the big one. Hikaru and Aqua’s second confrontation. Honestly? I’m game with Hikaru taking back the role of the main antagonist because Nino was such a middling character and antagonist herself but whether or not this rug pull was a good choice depends heavily on how they deal with this in the next chapter. I won’t speculate too much on something that’ll depend on how the manga goes about it but I doubt that Hikaru’s going to get “redeemed” in any major capacity. I suspect he’ll lash out after hearing that Ai loved him all along or didn’t believe Ai’s words through the video—which, fair, he has that right considering how harsh Ai was with him during their breakup—but whether or not he’ll still be in an antagonistic role is still an open question.

Whatever happens with him, I doubt it’ll be well executed. The glaring flaws in the manga are becoming more and more evident every chapter and I doubt we’ll see the end of this manga’s bullshittery until everything’s finally run its course.

[callisto-crescent]

The Torchbearer’s Guiding (3/?) | Navigating (2/2)

Part one

Clancy slowly awoke, expecting to see the Torchbearer’s curly hair lying across from him. But as his eyes adjusted, all he saw was the Torchbearer’s tent. Suddenly everything from the night before came rushing back to him.

The Torchbearer disappearing.

The Torchbearer collapsing.

The loneliness he felt.

It hit him like a brick but he stayed afloat.

He had to see the Torchbearer.

He hesitantly opened the tent flap and was greeted with the sight of the Bandito camp.

He was finally home after so long.

He wasn’t sure how to feel, too many emotion filled him at once.

He was so happy to be back, but too weary to be crowed by eyes and voices. He tried to sneak his way to the medical tent, but was seen by a couple Banditos. He’d known them, but not as well.

“Clancy! It’s so good to have you back!” A cheery Bandito greeted him with a sweet smile.

Clancy smiled back, a genuine smile. It’s been so long since he’d seen friendly faces, now longer than he’d thought. He continued his way to medical tent, trying not to be seen again, but when he was, he smiled and nodded. But he still felt like he was in a dream, walking on air, every interaction felt fake.

The tent flap was shut when he arrived, he heard some voices from inside.

“There’s still so many things we don’t understand about this… ability” the voice spoke, wearily. “You have to be careful”

“I know” the Torchbearer replied. It’d been a while since Clancy had heard his voice. He never spoke around the Bishops, but neither did Clancy.

“Take care until I get back” the medic replied and suddenly the tent flap opened in front of Clancy. The medic looked shocked to see him, but so was everyone.

“I’ll be checking up on you later” she stated.

Clancy smiled awkwardly as he thought about what injuries he could have.

“It’s good to have you back” she returned a smile and walked off.

Clancy opened the tent flap and saw the Torchbearer sitting on a cot across from him.

“Torch?”

The Torchbearer looked him, his eyes glistening.

“Are you… okay?” Clancy asked.

“Clancy.” He ignored the question and slowly walked over to hug Clancy tightly.

The Torchbearer’s touch brought him back. It felt real. This was real. The Torchbearer’s warmth engulfed his cold form.

“How long… has it been?” Clancy muttered the words, trying not to break into sobs.

“Too long” replied the shaky voice of the Torchbearer.

They held each other for a little while,

not wanting to let go, scared that if they did, the other would disappear. But Clancy’s questions began to burn more and more.

“Where were you?” His voice small and shaky.

The Torchbearer’s heart sank as he heard the question escape Clancy. He broke the hug and held Clancy by the shoulders.

“Clancy, I…” the Torchbearer hesitated, wondering how to explain everything. This made Clancy more suspicious, a slight anger rising inside of him.

“You never… came for me?” Clancy asked, furrowing his eyebrows and breaking away from his touch. The Torchbearer was always there for him, but through the toughest times of his life, he wasn’t?

The Torchbearer looked at Clancy so apologetically, holding back tears as he curled his lips.

“I never left you” he said, frantically. Cupping Clancy’s face in his warm hands. “I promise. I-I was there” he stammered, trying so hard to get Clancy to believe him.

Clancy gave the Torchbearer a confused look, replaying the events of last night in his head in case he remembered it wrong. But he continued to see the Torchbearer disappearing from his side and magically appearing in front of him.

Torchbearer took Clancy by the hands and sat them down on the cot. Clancy was back in his trance of sorts, so he blindly followed.

As it seemed he always did.

The Torchbearer’s eyes never left Clancy’s as they sat down. Clancy’s brown eyes became dull and he looked as though he was far away, the same way he looked the night before.

Dissociation was nothing new to Clancy. Being smeared and seized can really mess up your perception of reality.

Torch continued to hold Clancy’s hand, keeping him anchored.

“I would say that this would be hard to believe,” Torchbearer rubbed the back of his neck, barely letting out a nervous laugh as he spoke. “but based on recent events, I guess not”

Clancy continued to look at the Torchbearer, listening to his every word, but looking like he was somewhere else, trapped in his mind.

The Torchbearer began, nervously., as if he was giving a speech. “I have an ability, like you” He paused, waiting for a reaction. Clancy gave him a slightly surprised look, staying silent so Torch could continue.

“It’s called guiding. I can project myself to people and be in multiple places at once” Torch almost saw a lightbulb go off in Clancy’s head as he explained. Clancy was processing Torch’s words, finally getting the missing pieces of the puzzle left unsolved. He remembered all the times the Torchbearer helped him escape without being seen or caught by the Bishops. This explained everything.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” If this was happening for so long, why hadn’t he known? Why was he led on for so long, believing he was really there?

“I tried to…” Torch began. “But I guess the Bishops took that away” he looked at Clancy nervously, hoping he would understand what he was saying.

The Bishops have their ways of torturing escapees. Smearing, seizing, the neon, anything to prevent another attempt. Anything to warp their minds and keep their loyalty.

After Clancy was recaptured, he’d always have to remind himself of the fight, the Banditos, the Torchbearer. He was never reminded of his ability.

Clancy still felt so alone. So misguided by the Torchbearer and his secret.

“But… why weren’t you there physically?” Stupid question. Obviously he wouldn’t want to be there. Clancy was almost glad that he wasn’t.

“I-it was difficult. They had you surrounded, Clancy. We couldn’t get at you, we could barely get at anyone” the Torchbearer began to tear up.

“I wanted to be there. I wanted to be there so bad. To break down those stone walls, take you in my arms and run far away” Tears streamed down his face as he spoke.

Clancy began to tear up too, the pressure of everything, the pressure on both of them building up and bursting.

“I’m sorry.” the Torchbearer spoke with quivering lips.

Those words broke Clancy and he began to sob. He sobbed and cried so hard into Torch’s hoodie.

Clancy let out a soft “thank you” between sobs and The Torchbearer held him tight, rubbing his hair and his back for comfort.

Because he’d never leave his Clancy.

[5and3nevermind]

Yoonmin Run Ep Project: Week 1

Welcome to Week 1 of our fun little Run ep viewing project!

This week, we watched Run ep 53. This was the picnic episode, which was released in 2018 (part 1 of 2). Please go watch it if you have time!

I don’t want this to turn into an episode recap, so I’ll just mention some things that stood out to me. I’d love to hear what you thought of the episode. Feel free to comment or send an ask. You’re also (obviously) more than welcome to write about it on your own blog. Let me know so I can make sure to stop by; I’d love to read it.

First of all, how cute that yoonmin sat together on the drive. They looked so cozy in that front row all by themselves.

Also…I just have to take a moment to appreciate how adorable Jk looked in those glasses!

Ok, back to yoonmin! I loved this moment when Yoongi and Jimin shared a laugh.

And then of course there was the egg-peeling incident. Jimin was so sweet to offer! Yoongi teased him, but we know that was also self-deprecating since he’d already said that he finds peeling eggs difficult.

For someone who was not directly involved in peeling that egg, Yoongi sure was curious! Cute.

The first stop was the grocery store:

That’s when we saw the back-scratching moment. Yoongi had been wearing a black coat, but he flung it low around his arms and lower back briefly:

Jin lost a game and had to complete the last part of the journey on foot. Jimin volunteered to go with him.

I didn’t catch Yoongi’s reaction until the second time I went back and watched the grocery store portion: start at 16:52 for context; at 17:00, Yoongi waves his hand dismissively and then says, “I won’t stop you,” I assume directed at Jimin.

This is a small detail and I don’t want to speculate too much. But…⚠️ Yoongi seemed a bit disappointed that Jimin was offering to do the punishment with Jin. The guys had been warned that it was an uphill walk. Maybe Yoongi was worried that it would make Jimin tired. Maybe he was already sore from dance practice or performing. ?? I found it interesting that Yoongi had an opinion on what Jimin does. And his comment—“I won’t stop you”—implies to me that Yoongi feels that he has the right to express an opinion on Jimin’s decisions. This seems, to me, to be inconsistent with typical friends and it’s certainly inconsistent with bandmates/co-workers. Would Yoongi have expressed his opinion if it was Joon or Jk who had volunteered? Perhaps not.

(The text next to Yoongi says, “I won’t stop you if you say you’ll do it!”)

Anyway, Jin and Jimin completed the last leg of the journey on foot, while the others rode in the van. We were treated to this adorable pic:

Could they possibly be any prettier?!?!

The members riding in the van arrived first. At one point Yoongi walked toward the window and asked, “When are they coming?” I thought he seemed a little distracted until Jimin and Jin arrived.

As Jimin approached, he made a sound like a crow, and Yoongi remarked that the bird sounded like “Park Jimin” (does anyone else love it when Yoongi calls Jimin by his full name?).

Yoongi couldn’t get over the fact that Jimin had been making bird noises and he brought it up again.

The picnic continues in part 2 (ep 54), but that is a topic for another day!

While watching this episode, I was struck by how often Yoongi and Jimin were together. However, they were pretty subtle. The back scratching is a perfect example. They were in the background and not at the center of the conversation. As you can see from my screenshot, Jimin wasn’t even fully in the shot!

So…those are my thoughts for now. I’d love to hear yours.

Yoonmin Run Ep schedule

Just a note: this is a yoonmin blog, so I’m focusing on them. Of course they also interacted with the other members. Of course Joon looked gorgoeus. Of course Hobi was pure joy. Of course Tae and Jk danced at the grocery store because they were excited about ice cream. Of course it was adorable when Tae fed chicken to Jin during the drive. Please watch the full episode so you can enjoy those moments too! 💜