#just long distance sometimes going years without communication but coming back to each other with nothing changing

[ffredmujkic]

i wasnt gonna post this but seeing other ppl art made me want to

[batneko]

it occurred to me that bowuigi would make for really good sentinel-and-guide AUs

(for those who don't know, The Sentinel was a 90's show about a guy with heightened senses and protective instincts, which make him a natural defender of humanity but can also be overwhelming. His nerdy partner who provided most of the exposition was eventually revealed to be a "guide" who has the power to soothe and support him. It had an extremely dedicated fandom and robust shipping community, which led to Sentinel AUs being super popular until A/B/O AUs eventually eclipsed them.

The basics are: Character A has super-senses and tends to be protective and territorial, but they have panic attacks/migraines/whatever because of their powers. Character B is a calming presence and often feels compelled to help Character A despite any personal differences they might have. It's important to note that the connection between sentinels and guides is not inherently sexual, though there's a lot of touching involved so if there's any attraction at all between the characters it can get awkward. Usually in the AU sentinel and guide powers are Known Abilities with support systems and sometimes even a matchmaking service in place, despite it being rare and unknown in the show.)

So for the obvious version we've got Sentinel Bowser and Guide Luigi. Bowser is an extremely powerful sentinel which means very few people can challenge him, but his instincts have driven him to conquer more and more territory over the years and he's starting to feel stretched thin. He's had guide partners before but his personality problems drive them away before too long, so he keeps a few in rotation and tries not to get attached.

He "fell in love" with Peach because her guide abilities are so strong he feels comfortable around her without either of them even trying. And since he only tends to see Luigi when Peach is also there (either kidnapped or at a group event) he doesn't notice that Luigi is a guide at all for a long time.

Until one day he has an attack in public, and since he's likely to lash out in that condition everyone keeps their distance - except Luigi. Who rushes to his side and holds his hand and rubs his brow until Bowser is able to come back to himself.

Bowser is stunned that someone he thought of as an enemy would help him so easily, as if it's the obvious thing to do. But he's also embarrassed that Mario's brother of all people had to take care of him in such a vulnerable position. He gets it into his head that the only way to save face here is if he acts like it's not embarrassing at all and that now he wants Luigi to be his full time guide partner.

This is definitely going to go great!

And then the reverse, Sentinel Luigi and Guide Bowser. Mario and Luigi are both sentinels, but they're so used to relying on and covering for each other that neither of them has ever needed a guide... Or at least they've convinced themselves they don't need one, until they're both falling at Princess Peach's feet as all the tension they've built up over the years drains away all at once.

Pretty soon it becomes clear that Peach and Mario have a connection that Peach and Luigi don't, and Luigi makes excuses to leave the two of them alone as often as he can. Which leaves him both without a guide and without his partner, putting up with all the stress and sensory stimulation on his own. He handled it before, right? He can handle it now.

Then he (literally) runs into Bowser and, just like with Peach, collapses to his knees at the sudden rush of relief. Bowser is like "not that I don't enjoy this kind of thing, but what the hell?" before he senses Luigi's distress and realizes he's a sentinel. It makes sense given how strong the brothers are, but he'd never really thought about how that kind of thing works for humans.

And, though he tells himself he shouldn't care if Luigi is struggling or not, he's not entirely heartless. Bowser scoops Luigi off the floor and lets him spend the rest of the day with him, eventually saying he's doing it because it'll be funny to have Luigi owe him a favor.

Luigi says okay. Bowser is baffled by how quickly he agreed. Either he was really really suffering, or he's so nice of a guy that he doesn't even fathom how easily Bowser can take advantage of him.

Well, it's not like it costs Bowser anything to keep him around. And it does actually feel good to be a guide instead of a king for once. Bowser decides to keep racking up "favors" until he thinks of the best way to use them, probably against Mario, or maybe to get into the Mushroom Kingdom.

Sure, once he gets that payoff Luigi will probably never forgive him and never want to see him again, but it'll be worth it... right?

[ana-chronista]

35 bojere 🥹🙏

Thanks for the prompt! And a special mention to Ruisrock bringing out all of the fluff and all of the angst all at the same time... Prompts are still open: Fic request list! 35. Dreams/Nightmares

There’s a game they like to play every now and then. One of them will mention something in passing only for the other to chip in well, that’s going in the house, and by the time their spiralling conversation has unravelled they’ll have ten new additions to this dream home they’ll have one day. It's been a running joke (can it be a joke, even in those moments when Bojan looks at him so softly and he feels like his heart will burst) for so much of the past year that there’s a list of features as long as Jere’s arm that he can rattle off at any given moment. The sauna he’d refused to do without. The soundproofed music room Bojan had wanted for work (“Or some other things,” Jere had said, flipping Bojan to pin him to the mattress and revelling in his delighted smile). The plants that Jere has warned Bojan his grandma will insist they take even though neither of them has the first idea about keeping one alive. The mirror with the weird ornate frame that’s hanging in Bojan’s living room and that he showed him one time during a video call. Sometimes, when he finds it difficult to drift off at night, he traces the familiar images in his mind, worn with use but comforting. And he has to keep reminding himself of it all because, for now, comforting is all it can be. there’s always something in the way: a tour, an album, promo work, interviews, events. They knew this was how it would be, whether they choose to stay as friends or try to be something more, way back when they first started talking about where any of this could go. Meeting each other had been unbelievable in more ways than one, but then so had his career taking off so rapidly.

He doesn’t regret any of it, not a single moment. This has been his dream for so long, and to suddenly have it come true still feels unbelievable a lot of the time. Even the downsides – the hate-filled comments and the cameras in his face even when he just wants to get to the shop – melt away when he’s on stage in front of a cheering crowd. It's just... There’s another dream that’s sprung up over the past few months (since last year, a little voice whispers in the back of his mind, since you saw him again in Liverpool and he was so glad to see you, remember?) in place of the one he’s currently living. One where there’s a bright laugh in the room with him, strong arms that can actually wrap around him and pull him close, competing for the bathroom in the morning and jostling in the kitchen in the evening and cuddling up on the sofa to make fun of shitty movies and pretend not to be as invested in trash TV as they are. Jere has never done long distance before. Loyalty comes naturally to him, as easy as breathing, but scheduling and planning every possibility for communication? Not so much. It’s exhausting and straining and more often than not he can feel every centimetre of those two thousand kilometres stretching out between them. He doesn’t regret any of it, and he knows Bojan doesn’t either. They both know that when one of them says you mean everything to me there’s an unspoken but that they both feel. But not yet. But not now. But there are other things that I want to achieve first. It doesn’t take away what they feel (and how lucky, really, to find someone who understands so well), but still, it’s bitter, this delay of a happily ever after. He stays hopeful because he has to. Because, really, what else is there? To not have Bojan in his life? Sometimes he struggles to remember what it was really like before they met, even if weeks and months go by filled mostly with texts and photos and endless planning for whatever five minutes they can carve out for themselves. Jere’s never been a quitter and he’s not about to start now, not when his heart still swells every time he gets a picture of what seems to be the world’s most hideous dish with thought you’d like this for the house and can fire back yeah, your mum said it’s too ugly for her home and knows that somewhere out there Bojan will be laughing. Not when his every nerve sparks with excitement when he sees Bojan's name lighting up the call screen. Not when his breath still catches at the sight of Bojan coming through arrivals with a bag over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, ready to make the most of what little time they have until the day there’s a final greeting in an airport and they go home together. There’s still time, he tells himself as he squeezes Bojan tight and feels him bury his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. They have this for now. Happily ever after can wait a while.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Sometimes Love Stops In Its Tracks

You love your man, but sometimes, it can lead to a breaking point.

Includes: Victor Creed (Sabertooth), Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers (Captian America), Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Clark Kent (Superman), Arthur Curry (Aquaman), Orm Marius, Joker, Duncan Vizla (Polar)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Quill Imagine

Victor Creed

Living the way of mutants and humans was a thin line to follow. Victor felt that he was an animal, proud of his lone wolf ways, finding solace in the hidden corners of the forest around the globe as he traveled from one mission to another. Being on the side of power that wanted to bring respect to mutants, even if their ways were questionable at the very least. And now, it was gone, traded from a role as a teacher, educating younger mutants, having battle quips with some of the twerps that think they are brighter than the 200-year-old Sabertooth. Little things like that stuck in his brain, bits and pieces that he most of the time brought home to his lover and partner. Which, after a while, bred new arguments and fights. Something which both sides did not like. Tension bubbled, and Victor felt himself dive back into his ways of thinking.

'You would NOT understand my pain!!'

'Of course, I do not know since you don't communicate anymore. Victor, please, this has been going on for way too long; talk to me! ...Tell me so I can understand.'

'Even if I told you your human brain is too stunned to comprehend.'

'What?! Why are you talking like this? Do not talk to me like that.'

'And what are you going to do?! You are no match for me.' with that, Victor knew he had crossed a line he didn't think he would cross, ever.

'I will not be treated like this! You are on your own now.'

You spoke, starting to distance yourself away from the raging mutant. Placing permanent distance between each other, leaving love to stop in its tracks.

Loki Laufeyson

For him, his heritage was a silent trigger in his mind. Whenever his blue skin showed itself unexpectedly, his manners would shift, not speaking to anyone not even his love. Which would, in return, create silence so loud it could break your heart. And it did. The silence brought no mature way to deal with it. You tried to comfort him, offering hugs, kisses, and soft touches to the broken god, but each time at the offer, Loki would pull away and even sometimes roar at the devotion. 

'Do not touch me! How many times do I have to tell you?!'

'I am just...trying to help.' The last part can be only whispered at the raging man

'Do not help me. Leave me alone.'

Loki turns away, walking away as you tried to do it to your best ability, but if he wanted help, he would accept it. Maybe it was time to leave him...alone. Sometimes the best thing you can do is remove yourself from the situation and let love stop in its tracks.

Thor Odinson

Thor fancied traveling, exploring new places, and new people, and having exhilarating adventures. Thor would leave on a whim sometimes, even most of the time, without saying where he is going or when he is coming back. Each time Thor would come back cheery as ever, retelling his stories to you with the same gleam, not understanding what he left behind and expects when he came back. You would communicate what you felt, from the sudden 180 from having him in youR arms to an empty apartment and waiting each day and night, wishing that this is the moment when he will come back. So when he came back, Thor did not read the room.

'Do you not like the story?'

With a heavy sigh, you hoped that it would be obvious. 'No-no, the story about you riding a giant goat sounds like great fun. But, Thor, do you know how I feel? Waiting for you here? Hoping that you will arrive, hoping that you will send a message that you are okay? At least that...'

Thor treks back, his eyes widening in puzzlement. 'I do not understand, dearest when I was in Asgard, my family would not grumble regarding my adventures.'

Relying back upon confusion from your side, they speak with a sharp tone, 'Thor...I know that. But this is not Asgard. This is our home. I know that your family got unfortunately reduced to myself, but what we have is a relationship. And our relationship should be based on communication. Therefore when you leave at the very least, very minimum, let me know.'

Thor took one more step back, feeling his confusion start to simmer. 'What do you mean? I thought that our bond was powerful.' Thor withdrew, looking at his lover.

'It IS strong, but this, like this, your last-second adventure, are things that can chip away at this life we have. I don't want that.'

Thor looks at you, seeing the ping of confusion on your face now 'I am a god. A god goes whenever the path takes them. My heart told me at that moment to go and explore a new corner of the realm. Experience a new life there, fresh cultures, exciting quests and help the less fortunate there, to let them know they have a god...' Thor started to ramble on his reasons for making such a bold move, and in a second, he struck in the wrong path '...explore new lovers there.'

What?

You and Thor look at each other, and you feel a small ping in your heart. Not wanting to say it out loud, but still going to walk in your truth. 

'While your heart told you to do all those things.... did it ever think of me and my heart?' Standing up, you spoke into the viscous silence that started to settle heavily on Thor's shoulders, 'Me and my heart won't take you back. Our love has stopped because of your adventures.' 

Steve Rogers

Steve was continuously on a mission, rarely home. And when he was home, it was almost a designated time for him to do all the things he couldn't do back when he was living, meaning going to 1900s museums, dinners, activities, and so on... but one thing Steve was always stuck with was Peggy. More times than not, Steve would catch himself saying Peggy's name instead of yours. Which would create disharmony. Steve would play it off, hoping you would understand where he is coming from. Creating fights and blowouts as you were trying to get your point across to Steve. 

'Steve, I understand that Peggy was your girl then, but now I am here. Don't call her name when you call me. We don't even have similar names.'

'You are telling me to suppress an important part of my life. You, of all people, should understand what kind of pressure I go through when I am on a mission. So when I come here, I mostly blow off some steam, and my brain mixes everything. Hence, the name mixing.' Steve argued his point coming across less and less, dipping more into the black hole that was forming between the lovers. 'What if the roles would be reversed Steve, hm? What if I said my ex's name instead of yours?'

'Oh, for the love of god. Please, not that gender-role-reversal crap. Back in my day...'

'Stop!' It roared in Steve's ears, the way the word just shouted in his ear, halting his words.

'If your brain is still in the past. Then you can live through it by yourself. As much as I give myself to you and your activities so you can "relive" your "golden days," even though you have been willing and ready to make a life together, you still want to go back. And that is completely fine, but you could have told me that and not strung me along all this time.' 

Steve sat back, hearing and feeling the wave of emotions falling into a black hole, growing more and more and very soon encapsulating Steve, losing himself forever. 

Bucky Barnes

Bucky consistently feared everything and everyone. Not a lot of moments in his lifetime offer solace and peace. But you tried your best to give him a piece of the comfort and love you felt for him every day. Bucky tried to dissociate from everyone, including you, and the moments you shared with him, cooking, knitting, reading, you name it, his brain was always halfway turned off, and you really can not blame him. You tried your best to understand the poor soul; you really did! But when he was zoned like that, he tended to be more jumpy and scared, resulting in a fiery shout directed at you.

'Dammit! You scared me!'

Turning into a frigid zone, no talking, no touching for 1 hour, as Bucky instructed. And that rule made it hell for you; you thrived off of physical touch! 

'I am just saying that I am here, Buck. You do NOT have to be alone. You have me, for crying out loud.'

'You would not understand what I went through. And with all my scars, I am fearful how I will live like this.'

'I can not phantom what you went through, Bucky. But the reason we are in this relationship is to be with each, enjoy each other's company, touch each other, and just- just let everything be, no past, no future-just us; together.'

Getting your point into his thick skull, Bucky's eyes winded in anger and misinterpretation. 'So what you are saying is to forget myself. To be no one?! To be just an insignificant speck on this planet and forget my hurdles and trauma. Like you?!'

Looking at him, you felt the ripple of sadness coloring your veins; there was no way Bucky thought that about you, someone who he loved, cherished, and most importantly trusted, was he?

'Is-is that what you think about...me?! '

'Yes!' He boomed the answer without a second thought, sealing this chapter for the both of you. Looking at him, you come close to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek respond in a hush, loud enough to be engraved in his brain.

'Remember this kiss, because it is the last sincere thing you will feel. Until you come to terms with yourself, James.'

With that, you left the room knowing that the best option was to leave him if he wished so letting your love stop in its tracks.

Bruce Wayne

Bruce always thought that he wasn't made for relationships, the man dressed like a bat, for goodness sake. Therefore, when you two got together, you raised Dick from a small baby boy with the fattest cheeks that were just screaming to be pinched to a teenager going through his phase of 'begging secretive,' although I don't know how much you can get secretive if you are a superhero and being mentored by Batman. A few years perished, you would have thought that Batman was more open to having a partner in his house, not ours, his. But no. Bruce would hole up in his cave and not talk to anyone, not even Alfred, if he was working on anything. And that fueled sleepless nights resorting for you to give him the cold shoulder but masking it in front of Dick to appear as if everything is okay. Which in hindsight, would bite you in the ass when you would feel yourself crack under the façade. 

'Alfred? Why is Mom crying?'

'That... Master Richard is hard to explain. The best we can do is give her a hug and reassure her that everything is okay.'

The hug would help in a 'band-aid over a bullet wound' type of way, but nonetheless, it helped. What didn't help was Bruce and his stoicism. No matter what emotion you chuck at him or say, he would just stand coldly. 

'Bruce! Just come out of this forsaken cave. For one hour! For Dick! For me! For Alfred!'

'I told you. I have a case. I can not leave the cave just yet.' He spoke in a stern tone, not moving an octave higher or lower.

'You have been in here for 6 days. This is borderline madness. I forgot your touch.' You responded, feeling your body tremble with unhappiness and uprising anger. 'I have been nothing but patient, but nothing can make you move. I tried, I really, really, really tried. But you gave me nothing!'

Stepping away, you see Bruce's eyes dilate slightly at your discouraged-filled sentences, but now it is too late. As you were going up the stairs, Dick stepped out of the shadows looking at his father.

'Are you just going to stand there?'

Bruce looks at the boy feeling his heart twist in the same way yours was feeling your shared love stop in its tracks.

Clark Kent

Clark moved on when Lois found a new guy to be with. By finding you. Being with you, making a life together, living together in Metropolis. Finding yourself with him. Clark was a sweetheart and still is, to the bone. But when you are such a sweetheart, there are bounds where you will trip up because of your niceness. For Clark, it would be the ability to say no to Lois when she calls for help. Be it a heroic save from a no-name villain to a minuscule task such as carrying furniture up 5 flights of stairs, where she moved in with her new boyfriend.

'Clark, you have to stop helping her so much.'

'I couldn't say no. When she asked me so nice-'

'She has a man! He can do all those things. You are my man!'

'What are you saying?! I should have let her plummet to death when she was falling?'

'That's not my point, Clark. What I am saying is... she is your past. I am your present.'

Clark stood up, hugging you gently, reassuring you with a soft touch, 'You have to understand that she will always be my past. Someone I still very much love.'

Hearing that you pushed him away, you felt a coil snap in your heart, nudging you in the direction where you opted you would not go. 'What?! Lois broke your heart and left you all alone to pick up the pieces, and you still love her?'

'She didn't know what she was doing. I told her how I felt, and we mended that.' More actions came to light 'When?! You never mentioned that to me. Clark... what are you hiding?!'

Clark moved away, seeing what effect all of this had on you, heartbreak in sight. 'Nothing! Just Lois and I talked it over and decided to move friends. Nothing more!'

Looking to the side, you could not see him anymore; your emotions got the better of you. 'You are saying that just now. Do you understand how much jealousy and insecurity I have to press down when I see you going to Lois first and not me? Have you tried to think how I would feel?! All the time, I was really supportive and understanding, but I am human, and my other emotions would boil if this continued, and it did. I gave you so much grace hoping you would understand by yourself. But you did, and look where we are now.'

Looking at him, you saw his eyes dim with hopelessness. 'So what are you saying? That we-' '-yes, we have no future. But maybe your past can help you pick up the pieces.'

Arthur Curry

Arthur is a hunk of a man. He attracted people of all genders and orientations. He is a beef magnet. Arthur knew his charm, but he was oblivious to how it affected you. Whoever was flirting with Arthur, it made you a bit mad when Arthur would return the flirt even when you were with him.

#154th time

'Babe, if I am nice to the barmen, we will get free drinks.'

#484th time

'No worries, toots. The woman there is smoking hot, but I am still yours.'

Arthur tried to reassure you, but all that would fall on deaf ears by the time you saw it for the 500th time.

'Arthur, you have to stop. I am uncomfortable seeing you flirt with other people while I am with you.'

'When did I do that?' He would ask as if all of that did not happen 3 hours ago, 'You are messing with me, right?! You were flirting with the girl outside the bar while I was getting the car!' 

'Oh, that?! That doesn't count.' He retired, saying a small pfft.  

'Sorry? And when "does it count"?' You asked, feeling genuine curiosity mixed with rage

'Only when I get something free out of it.'

it took you a second to comprehend was he was saying and what he was speaking

'So you mean you do it all the time, but most of the time, you do it to gain something you can very easily buy?'

Arthur takes a second to realize and says deadpanned, 'Yes.'

Losing all hope in the merman before you, you just left, leaving him to his own consequences. Letting your silence speak louder than his words could ever, letting him know that your love has stopped in its tracks.

Orm Marius

Orm never would have thought in a million centuries that he would leave his birthright of being a king to be with you. That decision weighed heavily on his shoulders and heavier on yours. As you were described to others as 'the reason Orm left him throne' sometimes it was spoken with a devoted ping but sometimes with a bitter punch. And that decision was not yours; it never was. It was his. Orm just wasn't ready to admit it. Creating a toxic atmosphere in your household. You were mostly quiet on the matter, hoping that Orm would digest it like an adult man, while Orm was boasting about his accomplishments in Atlantis and always ending with a bitter 'And now I am here.'

'Orm, if you feel that way. You are free to go. I am not some anchor that will keep you here against your will. Plus, we all know YOU chose to come here. I did not put a gun to your head and force you to come here. I had no problem having a long-distance relationship. YOU were the one who wanted to escape that throne and those responsibilities.'

Orm strode to you, feeling disassociated with himself. 'I beg your pardon! The reason I came here was to be with you! Because I love you.'

'I know you do. But every time we talked about your royal duties, you always mention what kind of mental toll they had on you, so much that you started to lose your hair from the stress.' 

Orm looked at you as if a film playing before him; you were right. But he was not ready to fall back.

'You are the one at fault!' He argued, trying to stick to his points that stood on wobbly legs. 'Me?! How??!' You rebutted, ready to stand your ground firmly. 'You and your heritage! Why did you have to be a surface dweller?! Why did you even have to be born?!' He screamed at you, unleashing the avalanche he formed 

'How-how can you say that? You said you loved me moments ago,and now you don't want me on this earth?'

Pacing back, you turn towards the balcony overlooking the ocean, just a few steps ahead. Opening the balcony door, you step aside, saying with a bittersweet sound, 'Here! You can go! I won't hold you back, Orm. It was never my intent to make you so miserable. But when you realize that I was right, don't come back running to me.

Joker(Suicide Squad)

J never intended to have you in his life, someone so typical. Not corrupted, not willing to rob a bank or squishy an ant. You were an angel, and he wanted to corrupt you, but then he knew it would lose parts that made you so distinct and memorable to him. J never tortured you or forced you to do anything. But he did leave you alone while he wreaked havoc in the city. Locking you in the "safe" castle prison while he rampaged Gotham. At first, it wasn't a big deal; after a while, it was like a panic attack that you had to suffer alone in the ample lustrous space. 

'J, can you not lock me next time. It really weighs heavy on me. Please stop.'

'Angel, you being locked here is for your own good. What if someone tries to take you away?'

'And me being locked away will keep them away?'

'You are right! From tomorrow I will add a safe and code lock on the doors and windows.'

'No! J! You can not do this to me! Every time you leave, you lock me in. I feel like I haven't been outside for days now.'

'It was exactly 6 days.'

'J, you have to let me out! I am not someone who is okay with staying in here.'

J started to laugh uncontrollably, looking at you like you are the crazy one 'You are acting like you didn't know, pet. HA! Did you seriously think you would not have some "conditions" to be with me???!!!'

Looking back at him, it dawned on you just now. J wasn't the one going mad, you were. Being locked up in here like some twisted life routine. You had to cut this twist now and forever. 

'I do not wish to be with someone who gives me solitude J.' 

Standing up you walk out of the room, hearing J yelling at you, 'Do NOT forget how good of a life you had with me and in this golden cage!' 

Trying to assemble his thoughts, J halts all his actions feeling his love stop.

Duncan Vizla

Duncan looked at the snow-covered window watching as you walked out of your truck and into your shared home with the retired assassin. 

'Hey, Donut! I'm back. I found the cutest dog ever, a mix of poodle and french bulldog; his name was Mocha. So freaking cute.'

As you explained your day to Duncan, he asks you, cutting the cheery atmosphere short 'No one was following you, dove? Did you check your surroundings?'

A little stumped at the change of atmosphere you spoke with a tint of lie 'Yes. all clear.'

Duncan raises an eyebrow seeing your smile drop 'Liar.'

'Fine, yeah. I didn't check my surroundings but I was extremely careful and I only went to the famers market and petted Mocha.'

Duncan sighs loudly filling the room with his anxiousness. 'It was fine and-' 'It's not fine. You could have been hurt. Someone could have taken you.'

Placing your hand on his you try to soothe him 'IT WAS fine, Ducan. No one is after me. No one is after you. You can relax. We are together here now.'

'You do not understand my fear. Every time I walk out I feel their eyes on me and I do not want you to feel that. I just want you to be safe.'

'Duncan, and I am. When I am with you. Please calm down and let us just enjoy this day.' you talked to him, trying to reason with him but not much was going up his walls.

'Do not downplay my emotions. You would not understand the fear I have to harbor to keep it away from You. To keep you happy and live in this fantasy.'

'What?! How can you say that?? All my feelings towards you are sincere Duncan, I have told you many times that we can talk whenever and about whatever you wanted. I gave myself to you and help you overcome your past life.'

You rebutted looking at him, trying to get your points across and into his thick skull.

'Don't downplay me, little girl! You watch who you are talking to.' Duncan shouted, making you come to a standstill. 

How could he talk to you like that? And downsize you to a small girl. You aren't helpless. You aren't dumb, far from it. You are more than capable of walking away right this instant. 

'You will not talk to me like that Duncan. And you will not minuscule me. I do not care what you have gone through if you will tear me like that, and talk to me like that. No one will talk to me like that and you will finally learn that what you say hurts far more than a weapon can.'

Walking out, you look at the snowstorm coming in, sealing your fate far away from Duncan.

[orange-foxes]

Long Distance

🔶 High or Low Tide by Stjosten (5k)

Andrew is off at college and Neil is back in Columbia finishing his senior year of high school. It’s fine. Nothing bad is going to happen in the short time apart. Neil is an idiot but he has survived alone for a long time before he met Andrew. It is going to be fine. Atleast, that’s what he keeps telling himself and for some reason it feels like lying.

🔶 You go your way, I'll go your way too by emmerrr (20k)

Neil tries to leave it as long as possible to make his first phone-call to Andrew. He figures the longer he can go without hearing Andrew’s voice, the easier it will be in the long run. He doesn’t quite make it forty-eight hours. (Five times Neil calls Andrew after Andrew has graduated, plus one time Andrew calls Neil)

🔶 holding out for what you want by PoolToast22 (7k)

Or, the one where it's Neil's fifth year alone and he doesn't know how to handle it.

🔶 Touch me, love me, leave me by BakaDoll (43k)

No one ever told Neil there was a second Minyard who was a soldier for the U.S. Army, and suddenly he was stuck with him in his dorm during Thanksgiving holidays. But sometimes first expressions can be wrong, and what Neil expected to be the worst week of his year might turn out completely different than anticipated.

🔶 Home for Christmas by abraxos_is_toothless (3k)

Long Distance Relationships are hard, but they made it work. Until it wasn’t working and then the holidays came around.

🔶 A Thousand Miles Seems Pretty Far by gluupor (3k)

Long distance relationships are hard. Or, everybody sucks at communication sometimes.

🔶 Five Hours Away by mostly_maudlin (series)

Andrew's in Nashville. Neil's in Palmetto. They're both well-practiced in surviving alone. 

🔶 Where's My Love (just come home) by kanekicure (8k)

Neil hasn't been in the same room as Andrew for almost two months and he feels like he has a gaping wound on his side in his absence. Then, to make matters worse, Andrew stops responding to his calls and Neil is starting to feel like he's going slightly crazy.

🔶 people problems by loveroulettes (22k)

When Neil meets the perfect guy Andrew realizes that six and a half years later, he still doesn’t know how to ask the important questions.

🔶 Think With Your Head by HalfpintPeach (10k)

Andrew wakes up from a wet dream missing Neil. That's it, that's the fic.

🔶 Stay With Me by Lostintheuniverseslies (97k)

Neil had let Andrew say goodbye to every important person left in Palmetto while he stood on the sidelines and cheered Andrew on. There was only one goodbye left and it would be the most painful one. It seemed as though it was finally hitting Neil too. They only had twenty-seven days together and then Neil would return to Palmetto alone for the first time since Millport. They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.

🔶 Coping on Unemployment by a_million_stars (7k)

"And it's hard to give yourself over to something/Give yourself over" A character study of postgrad Andrew Minyard, his relationship to Neil Josten, and saying I love you. Very soft and a little sad.

[auari]

One year & five months.

10.22.24

The most beautiful thing that happened to me was when I met you. You made me the happiest person alive in this cruel world. You’re the light that has been lighting me up since the beginning of our relationship, and I will always choose to be yours every day, baby. I am nothing without the person who’s willing to sacrifice everything just to make me feel at ease and comfortable. You are such an incredible person, I know. You are more than unique compared to the people around me. You understand me the most and are the person who knows every single detail about me.

In the past months of being together, we both know that it has never been easy for us to deal with everything. And yet, here we are now, celebrating our 17th month anniversary with the same person. We always find a way to be together and communicate everything to avoid overthinking. I realized I had never been this serious to anyone until you came. I am ready to sacrifice everything I have just to support and be there for you when you need me the most. Please, let’s always find our way to come back to each other. We both know how much we need each other when times get rough. All we need is each other and no one else. We are fixing everything with each other. Even though sometimes we argue, I will never forget how much I love you. We may fight all the time, but my love for you remains the same. We are just fighting, but that doesn’t mean it lessens my love for you. You are the only person I want to be my kaaway, but I love you the most all the time. I thank you for being such a responsible partner of all time. You did everything just to make our relationship happy and comfortable. You are the only person I can talk to for hours without pausing because I am only comfortable with you and your presence. I truly have the very best friend + girlfriend, and it’s only you. We bond like everyone else cannot. A bond that we both shared laughter and love without hurting each other. I am truly lucky to have a special someone like you in this world. I will always find a way to come back to you, my audie. I swear. I will love you until the end of me.

 

I will forever cherish every moment I shared with you all throughout our journey as girlfriends. Let’s make more memories together next year!! WE CAN SEE EACH OTHER NEXT YEAR (hopefully)!! I really want to see myyy baaabyyy:(( Being this patient is killing me. I want us to see each other often and not once in a blue moon:(( GOD MADE US LIVE IN DIFFERENT CITY ‘cause he wants to see how we will survive each day without seeing each other HEHEHE. So far, we are surviving!! Hopefully next year, I can go there anytime I want:(( ITS A BIG WIN for me if we’ll see each other often and not this long distance rs ‘cause its sooooo huhu I want to kiss my girlfriend anytime:((

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be my last!! I am sure about building more memories with you and being with you in any aspect of our lives. Believe me when I say that I truly want to build our own house without people to make us wrong. I want us to live under a roof where everyone is free to tell everything happening to them without thinking of being judged. I want our future house to be the safest house wherein we are soft and gentle to each other and talk things out to settle everything with love and respect. Because of you, I find everything. My everything, who knows everything about life. I don’t know how to put it in words, but I saw everything about you that everyone has been dying for to have. In short, you’re a dream girl. My dream girl.

AGAAAIN, HAPPY 17TH TO US, MY FOREEEVEEER BAAABYYY !! MWAAAAAAAAA I WUUUUVVVVV CHUUUUUU ALWAAAAYYS, THE BEST GIRLFRIEND. 🩷

[amysubmits]

Hi Amy :) long time fan of your writing

I know you’ve written about times where CD has mentally pulled away from you, and your dynamic, because of real world issues and circumstances. I was wondering if that still happens where maybe one of you is just having a rough time and pulls away and maybe how you navigate that and reconnect ? Or if this ever hurts your feelings and how you go about it even if his issues arnt because of or about you

Hope that made sense, have a great day!

Hey Anon :)

Thank you!

Yes, we still have times where one or both of us get sort of emotionally distant without fully realizing it. Sometimes due to life circumstances, sometimes just due to mood or mental health.

A little over a year ago we got to a place where we both (but mostly me, honestly, haha) felt more comfortable addressing issues or concerns at a faster pace, rather than waiting on emotions to fully pass. With that, we've been able to discuss any feelings of distance or being shut off or shut down a lot more quickly, which has resulted in those periods being shorter than they used to be. We've also both gained a lot of additional insight into our individual mental health situations the last year or so of being in therapy. And when we understand ourselves better, that makes it easier to communicate where we're at to each other.

So how it works is basically...

CD still tries to let me know if he is feeling 'off' at all, and to let me know it's not me if it's not me. I try to do the same. And we're both able to do this at least 90% of the time that it happens, now. And when we aren't able to communicate to the other person that we aren't fully feeling ourselves, it's the result of us not really realizing our own mood. So if CD is 'off' and he doesn't say anything to me, that usually means he isn't aware that he is 'off', so my goal would then be to let him know that I feel like he is 'off' so that he can kinda check in with himself about how he's doing, and then we can talk about it. And same thing if I'm the one who is off without realizing it. A lot of the time if we don't catch our own mental health thing, the other person will see it. Also, we're both medicated for things now that have helped reduce the low moods and intensity of anxiety that would cause us to pull away or pull into our own heads.

Once we've acknowledged that something is off, sometimes we fix it, and sometimes we let it run its course.

Sometimes that distance we've been creating with the other person doesn't feel necessary, so once we recognize it, we work to communicate through it and get back to feeling really intimate.

Other times, it feels like the person who is 'off' really needs some space to just kind of be in their feelings and stuck in their head for a day or two to process whatever they're coping with. We still do some talking with each other about it, we never fully lock the person out. But we don't always feel like that kinda off, stuck in our head, feeling is something that can be immediately resolved, sometimes it takes time to come back around, and so we try to give each other that space if that's what's needed.

When Cd is the one who is off, I do still tend to worry that it's somehow my fault. It helps a lot that we just address it directly, and really quickly. It give some less time to worry about other possibilities. Still, it doesn't always take care of my insecurities. If I feel like I need it, I will let him know that I'm struggling, but while making it clear that I know it's primarily my issue. "I know you said that you're feeling off because of [XYZ] right now, but I'm still struggling with worrying it's my fault. Can you reassure me again that it's not about me?" or similar is what I try to do. And directly asking for the reassurance we need is something we've just managed to figure out this last year or so. In the past it felt like if we ask for exactly what we need and then receive it, we'd totally dismiss t. I don't fully know how or why that doesn't seem true to us anymore. But yeah we are now able to directly address our need, ask for it, and get it - and that helps some. But also, to some degree, I try to recognize that my insecurities exist, and that while I try not to let my insecure thoughts run away with the chickens, I can't fully expect CD to be able to 'cure' my insecurities. So I try to just remind myself of my patterns. I have an insecure attachment style so it's easy for me to get anxious anytime I feel any distance from him. And just sort of remembering why I have that reaction, and that it isn't really about CD at all, somewhat helps.

But yeah, I find that it's a lot easier to come back together when we don't let the distance stay unspoken or last for as long as it used to. If you can get to where you can communicate noticing that something feels off sooner, and address any insecurities sooner, that can keep the insecurities from growing as much. At least, that's been my experience.

Hope this helps!

[hell-much]

Cutting Room Floor - Insidious Intent - IX

Firsts

Another list of Sansa's musings about her relationship with Margaery. This was based on normal firsts people go through in a relationship, but Sansa's musings somewhat drifted in another direction.

.

First kiss

Their first kiss has brought about the weirdest of associations, where any discussion about capitalism brings about that fluttery feeling in her stomach.

They both ask occasionally if it’s okay to kiss the other. Not as often anymore, hardly anymore to ensure consent. These days there is more of a teasing, because anticipation is something amazing.

First make out session

Not to say that they didn’t still have many first since her release from prison. Their first make out session comes to mind. When they’d laid on the couch and cuddling had turned into kissing, heavy kissing, but nothing more. Where they had gone to bed afterwards and Sansa had spent her first night sleeping over without sleeping together.

First fight

As far as fights go Sansa wants to say they had their fill. For weeks and months there was always something brewing between them, and now for the first time it feels like they have the air cleared. They know where they stand. They are communicating openly and honestly. Any clouds are far, far on the horizon.

First cry

Seeing Margaery crying is something she cannot stand. Seeing Margaery cry because of her is unbearable.

Sansa hasn’t cried in months. The last time she cried was that day. Talking to Arya on the phone from Kingswood. She hasn’t cried when she would have every reason too with a wrist swollen up to double its size and throbbing with pain. She hasn’t cried when realizing Margaery was the one responsible for the leaked recording. She hasn’t cried with her entire family circling around her hospital bed and seeing her dad crying for the first time ever.

That lack of her tears isn’t because she is particular brave or strong. It’s not even a conscious choice. It’s not medication. She’s learned not to cry over the years. Ramsay told her she was an ugly crier, and he liked his things beautiful, including his wife. That’s hard to shake, not impossible, but she has a distinct feeling that she has a lot of tears ahead of her. That she won’t make it if she’s excessive with her tears now.

First lazy day

Lazy days over at Margaery’s are Sansa’s new favourite way to spend the weekends. And Lady’s too for that matter.

There have been days where they hardly made it out of bed. Sometimes just for cuddling and talking. Sometimes for other things. It’s these days when Sansa knows she won’t be ready to do long distance, at least not long, long distance. It’s these days when she’s sure she won’t survive going back to prison. 

There are nights where they just sit on opposite ends of the couch, their feet curled up under the same blanket, both occupied with their own things. Sometimes Margaery is writing, researching. Sometimes they’re just both aimlessly scrolling through their phones sending silly reels and memes back and forth a metre away from each other. Sometimes they’re watching something. Sometimes they’re napping.

First hurdle

They have made it through so many hurdles already. At this time Sansa is ready for just about anything. Let them bring it on. The trial is a hurdle. The biggest one yet.

First important news

The way Margaery had looked at her that night, had Sansa fear she’d confess to cheating or that she’d accidentally posted a screenshot of them sexting to social media. The “I’ve been nominated for a x for the story I wrote on Ramsay.” had rushed out of her so fast Sansa had barely understood it. She had followed telling her that she’d asked them to take her out of consideration, and Sansa had told her that she would do no such thing.

[granulesofsand]

Hello!

I’ve been self identified as a system for a couple years now. But I feel like the depth of my system hasn’t been exposed yet. Like the alters that front and that we are able to identify are just “surface level”, like they’re just the dumbed down version of what’s actually going on? If that makes sense?

But I still feel like there is a lot levels to my system yet to be found. Like I’m kinda locked out of my own head to some degree. I don’t know if this is a thing I should even attempt to think about? If it’s something that is better untouched. And even then I’m not sure how to unearth such things or if I’m even ready to handle the, likely emotional repercussions, of doing so.

And I’m not sure if this part of the system is being kept repressed for any certain reason or if there hasn’t been a trigger for it yet. Just confused and honestly frustrated, because it feels next to impossible to tackle healing, if I feel like I run into a block every time I dig too far.

Do you have any advice for this? I don’t want to force any certain alter to show themselves, of course, but it’s getting frustrating.

Progress in Healing

Patience

Cooperation takes time. You might not have access to those with answers or they might be holding back. You& might be together in your& exploration and all unaware.

Amnesia is not an inherently bad thing. It can be inconvenient for social expectations, but it was put up for a reason. Front-facing alters tend to have less access to traumatic materials, even/especially if the trauma is ongoing.

Healing is not a race. You can easily damage the process by pushing too far. Unless you sense a threat to your& well-being, move deliberately. Like a dark room, you need not claw down the walls if an exit lies two paces beside you. Panic will leave you with nothing but bloody nails.

Progress

That said, there are the regular steps to get through a plateau. Work on building communication (internal or external), giving one another dignity and space to exist. Trust is built slowly, but it is the best method for healing.

Trust lifts amnesia fogs if they’re playing a role. It gives the others a chance to feel themselves out, sometimes yielding more depth. It entices the weary to join you in your pursuits.

It’s bound to be a long road ahead of you, but each success will add to your momentum. A spiral staircase; you might not see the distance you’ve come, but these circles are not without purpose. You are lifted higher out of the pit with every step, so long as you keep moving forward.

That’s not our metaphor, but it is important to us. It comes from System Speak. You’ve been dropped down a well that you need to climb out of, but the only way is a spiral staircase. Each step is a little higher than before, even if the landings seem to go on forever. You might notice you’re in a similar position as a few cycles ago, but you’ve taken more steps to get here now.

Shame

Looking at shame is a good place to start. Notice how it feels and what made it like that. Sit with it for a moment, then turn towards it, then get closer and closer until you can start taking chunks off.

Things you were told growing up, cultural sentiments that made trauma hard, all the things that added salt to your drinking water over time (also not our metaphor). That helps practice being safe for the others and yourself.

Working through shame brings up issues you didn’t realize were there. You don’t always get to work through what you find, but it should give you the push you need to get moving again.

So

There is no guaranteed answer to how to heal. You don’t need to be healing constantly to be okay. Some seasons are for rest, and that is enough. The trees sleeping through the winter cold are no less for keeping well.

You should proceed however you feel safe, but look out for signs that you’re overdoing it. All wounds heal in their own time, and you have yet to receive a fatal blow. Don’t make these the reason you give out.

[projectjasper]

honestly, palm can sometimes be fairly accused of having his world revolve around nueng too much, but i do not think this is one of those situations at all. when you are a couple, you do plan things together. it doesn't mean that you're only thinking of the other person or not taking yourself into consideration, it just means that you are mindful of the fact that there is someone else apart from you that is now permanently in your life, and you don't make life-changing decisions without considering that fact.

there is nothing wrong with palm deciding to move to bangkok upon realizing their relationship would have to stay long-distance if he lived at the resort, which is something palm doesn't want, meaning that, while making that decision, he was thinking of his own wishes too, or maybe even primarily of his own wishes. he wants to be where his boyfriend is, and he made some rearrangements for it. and the fact that he would have planned differently if he knew nueng wouldn't be in bangkok for another two or however many years is also not indicative of him thinking of nueng only. because this is really just about palm's wishes of wanting to be with nueng being crushed rather than a life that he planned "for" nueng being crushed.

frankly, if he were only thinking of nueng, he wouldn't be so upset at this new development - he'd just instantly and excitedly support him in this new endeavor and go on waiting for him like a puppy. but he's not doing that. he's thinking of what he wanted, which was a happy settled life with his partner, for which he planned, and which now hangs in the air because his partner decided to postpone that without telling him (and, to be fair, he himself also hid the fact that he was making rearrangements for their joint future that was meant to come very soon, which is also not ok).

so really, this conflict is about two things.

firstly, it is about a certain lack of communication, which doesn't necessarily come from a bad place, but which needs to be worked on. nueng needs to take a page from my school president's tinn's book with his brave and incredibly mature approach of "i will put this fact out on the table, even if it is hard to say and can potentially hurt the other person" because - believe me nueng - hiding it eventually leads to much more hurt than dealing with it immediately. as for palm, i do think his secret is less offensive in this case, because he was absolutely sure that he and nueng were on the same page about their future, so it was more of a fun surprise kind of thing. however, palm dear, moving to a different city to start planning a future with another person is still too big a decision to equate it to a surprise birthday party and not talk about it beforehand.

but in connection with that, the second thing this conflict is about is them having different priorities and different outlooks on life in general, at least at the moment.

nueng sees their relationship as a separate entity, which is why he talks about their love and their future not just as things that are separate from each other, but things that can actually stand in the way of one another.

palm sees their relationship as an inherent part of their future. to him, the idea of their love being an obstacle to their future doesn't make any sense then, because something that is a for-sure-thing inside of that future literally can't be an obstacle to it. so what nueng is saying sounds to palm like he just doesn't see him as a part of his future, while palm is very much planning his own future around their relationship.

in fact, that conversation at the end is where we see palm falling back into his unhealthy habits of fully prioritizing nueng.

the reason why palm has this habit in the first place is because of every traumatic event that he's been through where not only was nueng's life in actual danger, but it was also literally dependant on palm. so whenever something like that happens again, it quite literally triggers palm to act like nueng is the most if not the only important thing in life (he metaphorically disregards his own wellbeing by jumping in front of the bullet directed at nueng so nueng would be fine).

and even though nueng tries to compromise (which i appreciate), i do not think it is enough. because again, i do not think that it is unhealthy of palm to build his life around his future together with nueng. his main priority is simply his romantic relationship and consequently future family. that seems pretty normal to me. but at the moment nueng's main priority is clearly his education and career (also fine btw), and that is - for the lack of a better term - a conflict of interest that cannot be resolved with one conversation, especially when its conclusion is essentially "idk i guess i can figure something out".

and if they are going to explore it further (which i hope they do, because if they for real think that conversation resolved the issue then wtf), i think it is truly a good step towards ending palm's past unhealthy habits of not taking his own wishes into consideration. because - again - him prioritizing his relationship with nueng over other things doesn't automatically mean him disregarding himself. and in fact, the future that he is planning with nueng mixed with the fact that he initially didn't just silently and obidiently accept nueng's sudden change of plans means that he is finally seriously thinking about what he wants, which just happens to be a settled life with nueng.

and that's one of the main things i want to see since we are getting a chance to revisit these characters. the new obstacles they've set up are good too and i want to see them dealing with the differences in future plans and current priorities as well as not communicating well enough, all of which can even be traced back to the original drama. but the main issue i think we were left with after the end of never let me go, which was not sufficiently explored (in my opinion), was palm sometimes entirely disregarding himself in favor of nueng. and i want to finally see them put an end to it. for good.

[goldflinches]

[ID: Screencap of a checkbox with text: "31. Medieval times where they wrote letters to each other and fell in love, then one of them stopped them stopped replying" End of ID]

okay this very dreamling coded so let me count the ways :

(part 1 ramblings about: Everyone's Human!AU and Immortal Humans!AU)

Everyone's Human!AU

Hob and Dream who met and become friends in their brief time together. But they are separated by circumstances beyond their control (war/family troubles/hidden identity shenanigans). Dream is hesitant to keep in contact in the face of the overwhelming amount of responsibilities he has but Hob convinces him to keep up a correspondence (he can be someone to rant to about all his work but Dream actually sends Hob so many personal observations of the court and the gardens and the library and the corners of his realm that's his and his alone, and just. so many stories) (Hob sends him letters about all the bawdy songs he's learned, places he's traveled and people he's met, things that remind him of (make him miss) Dream).

And they do for years and years, falling in love along the way. They keep trying to meet up but it always falls through (sometimes weather, sometimes the distance, many times it just clashes with Dream's duties). Then suddenly, Dream stops getting letters from Hob. Despite his duties, Dream sets out on a journey to find his lost love which becomes a long, winding quest that leads him to a Hob who is just barely healed from a grievous injury (maybe from a battle that left him as the only survivor or someone found out his connection to Dream and tried to take advantage of it). After Dream makes sure that Hob is truly well, Hob asks Dream what he's going to do now and Dream...doesn't want to leave Hob, doesn't want to go back to his duties, doesn't really know his place in the world without those duties. And Hob is just like okay, let's go find out then (and they do so – together).

Immortal Humans!AU

Same as above but they're immortal humans (though they don't tell each other). They've kept a long correspondence, declined seeing each other in person to keep the other from seeing that they haven't aged since the last time they saw each other 5/10/20 years past. They're both on the edge of overstaying with this current identity because they couldn't bear losing contact with each other. Hob eventually shed his current identity (outside circumstance, way too many people saw him come back to life after getting hit by an ax. in the middle of a town square. it happens.) and very reluctantly starts new. The letters stop and Dream is devastated, tries to look for Hob but finds no trace of him. He eventually fakes his death due to a close call with some self-styled magician wanting his secret for 'eternal life' or something. They both keep their letters but inevitably lose some along the way - Hob during a rough stint in the 1600s and Dream managing to keep most of them until the 1800s because he was on the run from an occultist who was convinced that he could communicate with the dead. (the whole time they are separated, they kept missing each other by a hair)

In the 21st century, they meet each other again – all because of their letters. Along the way, someone finds their letters, puts together that these letters are more or less a set, and it ends up in a 'queer love through the ages' type exhibit. Both of them see it featured on the news and rush to exhibit, trying to find a way to get their letters back, and there they meet gain – in front of the exhibit. They both understandably freak out, try 'discretely' to find out if this is just a doppelganger situation (they're neither discrete nor a doppelgangers), and they have to settle this somewhere else because their 'You're alive??!!!'/'How dare you (leave me without saying anything)' takes to higher volumes once the initial shock wears off.

They eventually hash things out, initially bonding over how to get their letters back. Eventually though, they both realize that as much as those letters meant to them, they actually have each other now and it's turning out better than back when they first met (and yes, they write each other new letters, little messages on sticky notes and misted over mirrors, dedicate papers and books to their beloved, and on and on they go).

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you���re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

[80s4life]

Little Dove*

Word Count: 3,949

Status: Not Requested!

A/N: Had a thought lol

Fandom: Karate Kid 1985

Relationship: John Kreese x Student!Female Reader

Summary: You had stayed around throughout all of his bullshit. Throughout the beginning of a forever-long battle with Daniel LaRusso, throughout losing all of his Cobra Kais, going through crippling debt, and now, more than ever, as he tries to put himself together. You’ve been there, the whole time. So why is it, that when a random man from his past appears, all of his problems are fixed without a glance your way? What does this Terry Silver have that you don’t (besides endless money and a history)? It’s unfair. It’s selfish. It’s Kreese.

Taglist: @intersellars-the-alien-of-human @snapessecretdiary

Warnings: smut, teasing, jealousy, age-gap paring, language, Terry being an overprotective cockblock, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dubcon, daddy/little girl kink, degrading kink

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist

{not my gif, credits belong to @atmostories​}

I just love how innocent he looks here lol ^

Staring into the window of his office, you make no attempt in engaging in the conversation your peers were having, the people on the other side of the glass proving to be more interesting at the moment. Besides, it’s the same conversation over and over again, “Terry’s so great,” “The money,” “The brawn,” “The elegance,” you snort. All that Terry was anyway was trouble with enough money to pay off his stupidity. 

The other man, however, was different. He did not become as fortunate as his younger companion. He went through many hardships that Terry would simply never understand. The proof: you. You had been there, through thick and thin. You can still remember the fights, injuries, and brokenness of a man like a slideshow constantly playing in your head, haunting your dreams. You should’ve left a long time ago, but you didn’t. There were points in your life that made you consider dropping him and everything he was in contact with at one point. But, yet again, you never did. All you did was forgive and forget, most of the time without apologies.

But no matter how much you’ve tried, there was always one outlier that couldn’t be erased. 

Holding onto your brothers shoulder, you congratulate him on how well he’d done. He lost the tournament, but it was his heart that shined through it. Johnny was the one who handed LaRusso his trophy even as they were beating each other senseless moments ago. Pulling him in tightly, you whisper, “You did good, Blondie. We’ll get ‘em next year.” 

He smiles broadly at this, returning the favor, “You didn’t do too bad yourself, Tiny. Hell, maybe next year, you’ll be the one to beat his ass for me... That, or you’ll be the same height as him,” he ruffles your hair.

“Shut up!” you swat his hands playfully, shouldering his side, then making your way over to the man of the hour. “Congratulations,” you outstretch your hand, “You were tough to beat! I’ll get ya one day though!” you point to him smiling as Johnny pulls you out of the arena with him.

“Thanks...Oh, and I’ll hold you to it!” he yells back, lifting his trophy high above his head. You leave with a sly smirk and playful roll of the eyes, not bad LaRusso.

Walking outside, you smile at Kreese nervously, knowing that he wasn’t going to take the loss lightly. Ignoring you completely, he snatches your brother from your grasp within moments, pinning him the the nearest car in the parking lot. With Johnny under the weight of Kreese, you try to yank him off, no longer in fear of your actions but what could happen if you don’t act fast. Shoving you out of the way with a hard jab of his elbow to your eye, Kreese goes back to harming your brother, switching positions as he goes to tighten his arm around Johnny’s neck.

Tommy, fearing for his life, stands still, on the verge of passing out. Dutch goes to help you up, pulling you away from Kreese’s proximity, but not for long. Full of anger and disappointment, you tear you body away from Dutch’s, giving him a stern look that he acknowledges and respects, stepping back. You run towards Kreese once more, putting more force into your pushes and shoves. He catches your eyes for a moment, anger glazing over his own as he gets a good look at the utter helplessness and determination within your own. He doesn’t loosen up though, tightening his hold even more so as if to test you. 

Lunging once more, he blocks you from him and counters with a hard blow to your face. You fall again at Kreese’s feet, Johnny’s purpling face looking down at yours in fear and worry. As you go to make a final attempt, your prayers are answered, a man about your height grabbing Kreese’s fist in a vice grip. In a daze, Johnny is able to slip from his hold to the ground beneath him, falling into your outstretched arms as you lunge, again, to protect his head. Kreese, now turning his fury onto the short man, goes for a punch, missing and smashing the glass beside his target.

As the fight starts to get worse, Dutch gets a hold of Johnny, taking his weight off of yours and dragging him to safety. Jimmy and Bobby, going to help Dutch, leaves Tommy to help you up. Taking his hand gratefully, you are able to see Kreese’s demise clearly, a burning crimson decorating his now busted fists, no doubt shredded and in need of medical care. You turn back just in time for him to look your way, grief washing over your figure as you feel a sense of uncertainty. 

The boys get into Johnny’s car quickly, pulling out of the car lot. Tommy, silently turning his calming body to yours, questions you with his eyes. Shaking your head lightly, you signal for him to go with them, your head hazy with the brute force of numerous blows previously clashing with your face. He nods knowingly, smiling weakly, as if questioning your motives or even why you were considering the choice you’d made up. Johnny looks back at you too, but is reassured as the short man, Mr. Miyagi, places a hand on your shoulder. As they peel out of the lot, you sigh and all the strength you’d conjured dropped instantly.

“You need checkup,” the older man states, looking you over.

“Yeah, but I need to take care of him first,” you point at the man.

“Ah. Good heart always forgives. You come by dojo sometime.”

“I’ll think about it,” you answer, kindly excusing yourself as LaRusso runs over to Miyagi, leaving just you and Kreese left in the parking lot.

Slowly, you pace yourself as to not speed too closely, too quickly to the man, walking lightly and quietly. Upon entering a close proximity, he looks up, neutral expression catching you off guard. Blinking once, he looks back down at his continuously bleeding hands, acknowledging your presence but not daring to step the line of communication. He never does.

“Do you...Do you n- ...?” you start, at a loss for words as you try to rephrase the question in a way to still make him feel superior without appearing weak to himself, “Do you want my help?”

He doesn’t say anything as an answer, just simply stares at the reddening hands.

So, following his chosen behavior, you adopt it and act the same. Slowly, you take off your fleece sweater, soft and warm to the touch, and move closer to Kreese. As you move into his personal space, you don’t dare look him in the eyes, and go to rip a piece of the sweater in half. Silently, you carefully take one of his hands in your own, them swallowing yours in turn. Wrapping the now torn cloth around his fists, you slightly tighten the material around the injury to prevent further bleeding, tying off the ends to keep the sweater where you want it. Turning to do the same for the other hand, Kreese never winces, or sucks in a breath, or even grunts in anguish.

As you finish your duty, you step back, parts of your hands and some of your pants now coated in differing amounts of blood from the constant dripping mess he’d left it in for a while. Taking in a deep breath, you look at him directly for the first time of the night, “Get in the car.”

That was the first of many nightmares that litter your mind. You grew into a tough, headstrong, and independent woman not only physically, but mentally as well. You were no longer the child looked down from the tip of Kreese’s nose, and despite your height not making much of a difference, you had filled into your body, soul, and mind. You were a woman nonetheless.

You were understood by Johnny, but to an extent. As you had continued to serve Kreese, it was only right that Johnny distanced himself from him, and with that, came you as well. You accepted this, and knew that you were not at war with him, settling for calls and texts when you missed him most. Johnny still allowed you the time to talk about your problems like you did in high school, and even let you rant about the newest situation with Kreese. Everyday, he worried for you, but he knew that this was what you wanted. 

He knew you fell for him before you even had.

After that night, you went through phases with Kreese: sometimes he was happy and nice to you, other times was full of anger, arguments, and nonstop screaming at one another. You were like an old married couple without the ring, matrimony, and age. You didn’t pay any mind to it, the mixture of feelings for him stronger than the will to leave as you’d wanted to in your youth.

But overall was the feeling of betrayal, or at least a form of it. For 4 years, after the night of the failed tournament, you were with Kreese, and finally, when things started to clear themselves out, another problem arose. Although shit out of luck, Kreese was ready to give up the dojo, give it to the owner, and move on in hopes of wiping the slate clean. You were ready to forgive him. And then, Terry Silver, unable to let the past be the past, convinced Kreese to give it a second try.

Now as you sit in a circle with Dennis, Mike, and Snake on the mat of the dojo, doing some stretches before training starts, you couldn’t help but look at the men excluding you from something you had tried to keep alive as long as they had. Longer than Terry at least. 

Snapping sounds through your frustrated haze, knocking you back into reality by Snake’s fingers. Scrunching your nose in confusion, you look at him, anger now turned towards him instead. “You keep drooling like that and we’ll all be slipping around and breaking shit. Then how would we be at the tournament?”

“Fuck you, Snake,” you get up, stomping to the office without another word. He just turns a mock-offended expression to the boys who give confused ones in return.

Storming into the small cubicle deemed an office, you turn to the men standing side-by-side. “Aw, what’s the matter sweetheart? The boys not playing fair?” Terry teases, trying to push your buttons.

Face now reddened with anger, you spit, “We don’t pay for you to sit around in your office and play with each other’s dicks. You can do that on your own time.”

“You don’t pay period as far as I’m concerned. And last time I checked, you weren’t of much use here anyways, Shortcake,” Terry rebuttals.

“And last time I checked, you're just here to tie your hair back, paint your nails, torture a kid half your age and an man even older than you.”

“Why you-!”

“Terry!” Kreese warns, a hand placed on his comrades’ chest, “It’s not worth your time, just go get the boys readied up for practice.”

“Sure...sure Johnny, I can do that,” he says eagerly, leaving the room with a side glance your way and elbow to the shoulder as he passes by.

Getting up from the back of the desk, Kreese loops around to close the office door, going back to where he was previously. “Wow, you really have that dog under wraps huh? Ready to bark when you say ‘bark’ or growl when you say ‘growl’?”

“Y/N, not now. You better cut this shit out now or I’ll kick you out,” he warns.

“Oh, so now your protecting him?! You’re going to sit here, right now, and threaten me for what? Because he served with you? Because you saved him?! What a load of shit!”

“Watch your mouth! You have no right to raise your voice to me! What I do with this dojo is none of your damn business, and will certainly never concern you. Ever.”

“Oh yeah! For sure! What did he even do, huh? What’s so great about him that is worth protecting his ass for when he’s never had to do anything in return?! I was there John! I was! I dealt with your shit for 4 years! Not 1! Not 2! Not even fucking 3!”

“I never told you to! No one was stopping you from walking out that damn door when everyone else had! I would’ve done perfectly fine without your ‘help’ when all it did was provide extra shit to take care of!”

“Really?! That’s what it was? Nothing? I dealt with your anger issues, your screaming! The god damn punches, kicks, spits, screams, hell anything you wanted to do in order to harm someone else to make you feel better! But that wasn’t me... No... Of course it wasn’t, right?”

“I’ve got no time for this. Stay in this fucking room and don’t move. You even dare come out into that dojo and you’re out. I have a winner to make and not some little girl to argue with.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, tears pooling at the bottom of your eyelids as the door hides you from view.

For hours, you sit in boredom, listening to the repetitive “hut” or “ah” as blow after blow is thrown into the dummies and punching bags. If only they could do that to me, take me out of my misery for fuck’s sake. But, despite the utter pissed state you were in, you did not move from the desk, even deciding to take a nap. It wasn’t until Dennis’ unusually loud laugh is echoed within the whole dojo do you finally wake back up. Looking through the blinds, you see the boys getting packed up. Doing the same, you walk out of the office just in time for Terry to leave with the boys a few moments later.

Speeding across the length of the mats, you take long strides in order to storm as fast as possible out of the cage that holds the biggest chains around your neck. Going for the door, you are unable to catch yourself as Kreese grabs your hand and flips you onto your back, splaying your body on the mats beneath you.

Groaning, you move to sit up, watching as he goes to lock the door to the dojo, throwing the keys somewhere and closing the blinds of the big glass panes adorning the front wall. Getting up, the harbored anger floods your being once more, “I’m done with your bullshit Kreese. Let me the fuck out so I can leave this place once and for all. You seem to be doing ‘perfectly fine’ with your boyfriend, so let me go!”

Without answering, he grabs you by the neck firmly, but not enough to choke you. The memories of Johnny instantly flood your mind, causing you to grab his hand just as tight, eyes peering straight into his. Noticing your change in demeanor, he loosens his hold a little and pushes your back up against the closest wall to your back. As your back collides with the wall, his lips clasp yours.

Whining in surprise, you go to pull back only for him to pull you closer by the neck. Realization dawns on you after a moment, and within seconds, your leaning into his touch absentmindedly. You only break apart once your lungs beg for more air. “There. Is that what you wanted?” he asks you, voice gravelly.

Ignoring his comment, you grab him by the nape of his neck, pulling him into you once again, tongue battling his own. Your tongue dances around, observing every crevice and tasting every bit of his mouth, grazing his teeth, biting his lips, and even tangling it with his. Taking control back, he shoves your body back into the wall, separating your mouth from his, a trail of saliva the only thing connecting your bodies.

His hand, long forgotten and hanging loose on your neck, tightens the grip back up firmly once again and moves his other to pin your arms above your head. Now basking in dominance, he kisses you once more, pinning his knee between your legs in the most delicious way. Taking advantage of the placement, you attempt to grind your core against his thigh to relieve some tension. 

“Ah. Ah. Ah,” he warns, pulling his knee away and moving to unbuckle his belt instead, “On your knees, Slut.”

Obeying instantly, you do as he says and place yourself on your knees. Finally undoing the tie of his gi, he pulls his pants, alongside his underwear, down just enough to let his dick spring free. Gulping in admiration, you take in the view of his girth and length, precum oozing at the tip.

“Looks like your happy to see me,” you joke, loosening your tension in your shoulders.

Stepping closer, Kreese edges closer to your mouth, and, taking the hint, you wrap one hand around the base of his shaft. Your other hand, deciding teasing is the best get-back, wraps itself closer to the tip, thumb grazing the slit. Earning a shudder of pleasure from the man, he goes to move in closer again. Pulling your head away, you squeeze the tip loosely, staring up at Kreese.

At your locked gaze, his cheeks burn bright pink, enabling you to give the man what he wants now that he’s at a loss for words and flustered for you. Taking him into your mouth little by little, you stop just before the barricade of choking. Eyes locked onto his, you place your hands on either side of his hips for support, then take him in as fully as physically possible. Instantly, you are met by struggling moans of relief.

Swirling your tongue around and lapping at his veiny member, he struggles to control himself, the undying need for more consuming him. Pulling away just enough to keep the tip in your mouth, you nod at him, giving him the okay to do as he pleases. That was all he needed to start going, pulling your mouth around his cock again, and tangling his hands in your hair for a better grip. Thrusting into your mouth now, you try your best to breathe as you feel him start twitching, knowing you will be fine in a few minutes.

The closer he gets to ecstasy, the louder he gets, hips thrusting in any possible direction as his pleasure threatens to bubble over. “Look at me,” he orders, looking you in the eyes. Slightly confused, you do as told, looking at him through your eyelashes as he continuously uses your mouth. “That’s it, Good Girl.”

Without warning, he unleashes his load into your mouth, the hot and sticky cum shooting to the back of your throat, forcing you to swallow. Licking up the remains, you make a show of swallowing the contents as well, getting back onto your feet with a help of his hand. Pulling your body into his, he kisses you deeply, tasting himself.

You whine as you are still left in uncomfortable need for him, having not gotten your share just yet, the feeling of being filled a painful reminder. “Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you.” And that, he does, getting to work on untying your gi and throwing the long-sleeved shirt over you head. Doing the same to him, you match his enthusiasm, pulling his shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the room. 

Playing with your clothed breasts, Kreese slips a hand under your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them between his middle and fore fingers. Moaning, you pull him into your chest nibbling his ear. Gliding his hands down your sides and to your waist, he slowly edges his fingers slightly underneath your pants, pushing them down with your panties. As he busies himself with your clothes, you move your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, breasts springing free and instantly hardening at the new temperature of the room.

Fingers, teasing your entrance, catches you off-guard, moaning again at the first shocks of pleasure. “Kreese,” you start breathlessly, “Enough is enough. Mgh... Stop teasing me,” you try to order, impatient and horny.

“As you wish, Princess.”

Lifting up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hipbone, he lines himself up with your entrance, entering slowly. Together, you sigh in ease simultaneously. Nodding once, you lean your forehead underneath his chin, starting to thrust slowly. Knowing this isn’t the pace he prefers, and body adjusting to his shape, you pull him in closer, whispering in his ear, “Faster, Daddy.”

Jolting at the name, he fastens the pace, grinding in rougher strokes, rubbing every part of you body in the best way possible. No one’s ever filled you the way he is now, and it leaves you stunned in a trance of utter euphoria. Tapping your other leg, you hop up to warp both legs around Kreese. At the new angle, he thrusts upwards, the overstimulation causing you to shake in a new sensation. 

Squeezing his dick tightly, you try to hold your orgasm off for as long as possible, but the building want of release causes you to topple over the edge quickly, spilling all over the body still within your own. Without faltering, Kreese continues his assault on your body, causing you to scream out in the fury of pleasure being all too much for you. Shaking harder, you struggle to keep yourself around his body for long.

Seeing this, Kreese keeps himself sheathed in your cunt, laying you on your back against the mats of the flooring. Grabbing your legs, Kreese bends them until your thighs meet your chest. Then, thrusting at the same pace as before, Kreese is able to fuck you senseless without further issues. Moaning screams of ecstasy echo throughout the dojo, the combination of yourself and the slapping of skin being the only noises in the room.

As quickly as you’d built up the previous time, your orgasm and need of release forms again, your pussy throbbing in anticipation.  “Kreese..” is all you manage, the older man quickly teetering towards the edge with you. Thrusting the hardest he had the whole night, he manages only a few more before you both come at the same time, screaming as you pull him down by the neck and into your chest, your name falling from his tongue in multiples.

Sucking in as much air as possible, Kreese and you stay in the same position panting before he unsheathes himself and collapses next to you. Catching your breath, you cuddle into his side in a naked heap of sweat and satisfaction. “Are you still jealous of Terry now?”

“It depends, am I still as useless as before?”

“I don’t believe so,” Kreese giggles, “but if you pull another crazy stunt like that, I will really have to give you a good beating. Huh, Babydoll?”

“I like the sound of that,” you say, going to straddle his hips as he lays on his back, “How about round two and I’ll consider not ripping his throat out?”

“Deal.”

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

[cloudninetonine]

This is kind of based on what an anon said and this ask may take a minute to get to the Player’s Aid portion.

It is apparent that the more comfortable and cozier our life styles get, the easier it is to be traumatized.

Let me explain: Records of the first man with signs of PTSD date back to a time before guns existed I believe, so a long time ago. He was a soldier who basically had a breakdown on the field as he watched his brothers in arms- along with the enemies- die around him.

This was the first recorded incident (I think, my info may be a little off), and as our lifestyles grew easier and more and more dangerous weapons were made, the more attention began to turn to this phenomenon as more and more people were starting to act weird after witnessing some stuff.

It definitely doesn’t help that people are very disconnected in this day in age. You go fight on the behalf of your country, your people, watch millions die, and then go back to find the people you fought for walking up and down the street without even a glance in your direction. There is simply too much distance between strangers now.

Your partner and or kids may comfort you, but they cannot give you what you’re looking for as there was no immediate threat to them in their eyes, nothing was coming to kill or attack them, they were perfectly safe, sitting around and worrying over you.

This comfort mixed with the distance can tear soldiers in particular apart and is why so many veterans have PTSD. The distance in general is also an issue without going to war or anything as PTSD comes from many different places.

But here’s an example where something normally bad was actually good for a community: sometime- not too terribly long ago I believe- there was a bad volcanic eruption in France. For a whole TWO YEARS there was not a SINGLE genocide (it was either in the area or the whole country, I don’t remember), that is a long time for such a big place! It’s because everyone there shared the trauma, everyone understood each others pain on a personal level. Neighbors linked hands with other neighbors they’ve never spoken with before, grown adults cried on strangers shoulders. This is in complete contrast to the soldier thing, where nothing changed when they got home, there was no acknowledgement, and even if there was it wouldn’t have satisfied them.

Now let’s take the Player’s situation- they come from the our world where everything is comfortable and sweet, yet where everyone is distant and unconcerned. Now they’re in a world where everyone is close and caring of strangers, yet they are fighting for there lives, dying of sickness, and dealing with the shitty medieval living conditions.

Now the player doesn’t really know the boys, but they do care about them, know of there pasts, and do feel strong emotions of sympathy and understanding for them.

They then have to watch as, man and child a like, throw themselves into heated, agonizingly long, hand to hand combat.

I wonder how that’ll affect player, if the different time periods are taken into darker consideration, idk, I just need to say something to finish the ask.

Btw not all of my information may be correct, I watched a video on this stuff a long time ago and the memories of it are kinda fuzzy, so forgive me if I got anything wrong or oversimplified it too much.

Oh, wow, okay ow-

But it does make total sense. Being in an era where it's less likely to have to grow accustomed to harder environments (well, more being in a certain area) it would make sense people would become softer to the blow that is trauma.

All I know is, Player is gonna face some difficulties in this story, which includes having to deal with stuff like this- after all I want the reactions to be realistic as possible while still bordering around interesting to read territory.

[tobiosmilktea]

ahh omg requests are opened !! can i request atsumu, iwa, kenma, and tsukki angst to fluff kinda thing where they get into a big fight and the boys blow up on the reader but make up at the end? pls make me cry but also go “💘🥺”,, thank you so much !!!

- 🧋

kiss and make up with atsumu, iwaizumi, kenma, and tsukishima

— m. atsumu

being with atsumu,, it’s no surprise that you two occasionally get into a few arguments here and there

they honestly range from the tiniest little, insignificant things from what to get for dinner to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza aka things most people probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at

you were used to it considering how atsumu is, but his personality is what you liked most about him with how he’s constantly having you on your feet —never knowing what he’ll do next

they’re quiet funny at the end of the day and that back and forth banter is just another way you two show how much you care about each other

with that being said, no matter what you two are arguing about, it’s always lighthearted and not so serious

that’s why it honestly took you by surprise how atsumu’s typically nonchalant and teasing nature whenever you guys “argue” over something was something you’ve never seen before

very rarely did you ever see this man get incredibly angry and you’ve even seen all of his games where things weren’t going right

and perhaps that’s where the root of this argument started in the first place

dating a famous division 1 volleyball player who is well loved and respected, it’s hard being able to spend the proper time with him when he’s constantly travelling or getting recognized whenever you two are out on a date

you weren’t exactly complaining about this problem to atsumu after he came back from a tiresome and strenuous day of practice as you knew that it was going to be like this when you two first met

if anything, it was just a concern you voiced out that you obviously weren’t expecting him to solve with a snap of his fingers

“and what the fuck do you want me to do about it, (y/n)?” he snapped at you, venom coated his words like tar

you looked at him with widened eyes as a mixture of confusion and utter offense melted upon your expression

atsumu was notorious for using foul language on a daily basis, but never had he ever swore at you and it’s safe to say you like to keep that same energy with him

you scoffed at him, still a bit dumbfounded, “i’m not expecting you to fix anything over night, i was just saying.”

“as if i already didn’t know how hard it is to find time to spend together.”

“so, are you just treating me like an idiot now?”

it was late, you were tired just as much as atsumu was and you certainly weren’t in the mood to argue with him anymore

before you could even let him answer, you walked away from him and entered your bedroom withy a slammed door

you hated going to bed angry, but there honestly wasn’t anymore moral within you to even continue whatever leftover conversation between you and atsumu

perhaps giving time for something this to simmer until the morning would be enough to make sure your fatigue wasn’t blurring your thoughts knowing how dangerous misunderstandings can be

a few minutes later, atsumu enters the room, eyes scanning over your figure beneath the sheets as your breathing subsided

he thought you were fast asleep, but your mind was still awake and racing with the worse case scenarios. it made it so much more difficult now that atsumu laid beside you

he would wrap his arms around you, “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled at you.” whispering in a hushed, muffled voice. you could feel the way his lips pecked at you shoulder then up to your temple

you weren’t sure if he knew you were awake or not as you swore he could’ve heard your heart pounding

without uttering another word, you turn towards him, burying your head into the crook of his neck

you were just glad his warmth was still here

— i. hajime

you believe one of your biggest flexes within your relationship with iwa is that you two rarely argue or get into childish fights

sure, there were disagreements here and there, but most of them were minuscule decisions on what outfit to where that day or what restaurant you two wanted to eat at. most of which would be decided with a harmless game of rock, paper, scissors or nose goes lmao

other than constantly bickering with oikawa, iwaizumi isn’t really the type to get into shouting contests with you unlike with his best friend (most of which is started by oikawa anyway)

because of this, you weren’t really expecting to get into a fight with your boyfriend, and yet, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to him doing so

at the end of the day, you always ended up being the moderator of iwaizumi and oikawa’s loud back and forth banter if things got too rowdy

so never in a million years were you expecting oikawa to be taking your place at this very moment

poor dude doesn’t know what to do

he’s used to third wheeling you and iwa being all lovey dovey, but now that you two were in the midst of a midafternoon shouting contest, he’s completely dumbfounded

oikawa couldn’t help but feel bad for you as technically the whole reason why you and iwaizumi were arguing in the first place was because of him

long story short, iwa was sick and tired of oikawa flirting with you all the time despite only doing it to tease him

you were well aware of this as well, playing along with oikawa’s flirts just to tease your boyfriend

you didn’t see any harm in it as you made it very clear the moment you confessed to iwaizumi that you liked him and not his best friend (who you more or less saw as a brother over anything)

“listen, i’m sorry i was only playing around.” you apologize, throat already aching from the amount of stress you had already put on it

“if you were only playing around, then you wouldn’t be flirting with him everyday!” spat iwaizumi as he flickering a harsh look to oikawa who backed a good six feet away from you two (social distancing king lmao)

you honestly didn’t know what to say as a lump formed in your throat, rendering you speechless. granted, he had a point, but how couldn’t he overlook the way you only had eyes for him? the way you would “flirt” with oikawa they always tended to be backhanded, the way you would always kiss iwa after each of oikawa’s attempts to flirt, or how you would constantly remind him how much you loved him

it hurt slightly knowing how it was all overlooked by harmless teases

regardless,, it had to stop

before you could  apologize once more and say you’ll stop, iwaizumi huffs, “just say that you wanted him the entire time and not me.” before walking away entirely

your eyes widened, turning over towards a distanced oikawa who had the same look of surprise before motioning a hand towards your boyfriend, “well, go after him!”

with missing a beat, you ran down the block to catch up to iwaizumi, spreading your arms and throwing it around him as you bury your face into his back

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that.” your voice muffled into his uniform shirt, “i only like you, iwa, you have to believe me.”

your hands that were firmly clasped together to prevent him from breaking out of your embrace was slowly pulled apart by iwaizumi, feeling his entire body turn to face towards you

“idiot,” he muses with that same embrace

— k. kenma

i don’t think argument are common between you and kenma

he’s probably too preoccupied with playing video games or sleeping to even bother starting a fight over mindless disagreements

you were glad that you didn’t have to deal with such burdens of fighting with your significant other, but at the same time, you believed that small disagreements in relationships showed just how much you cared for the other

it showed how they were looking out for you if you were to ever make a terrible decision, and yet kenma would only bat an eye at you and shrug whenever you ask him for advice

in the end, you’d end up fucking something up or get hurt

or whenever you’d ask your boyfriend what he thinks about a specific outfit, he barely spare your a glance before uttering the words, “yeah, looks great babe.”

it sounded almost crazy to say, but sometimes you wished for you and kenma to get into arguments sometimes

not ones so serious it would lead to a significant gap within your relationship, but rather the ones the led for you guys to communicate more

besides, it’s not like you guys communicate a lot in the first place

you first brought up this concern when you came over to his apartment to which he was (surprise surprise) still playing video games

you didn’t mind about his hobbies as that’s what he liked most, but sometimes you just wished he would give you the proper attention for once

“hey,” you’d call out to him in the dark room, shaking a plastic bag in your hand in the hopes it would capture his attention, “i bought takoyaki!”

and to your low expectations, kenma simply hums as he clicks rapidly at his keyboard

your brows furrow as you pondered to yourself, what will get his attention?

“i also brought my boyfriend with me!” you lied just to see if his expression would even change

and what do ya know, it doesn’t. it’s the same focused deadpan on his computer screen, “no you didn’t, your boyfriends right here?”

you were at the end of your rope

“then why doesn’t my boyfriend come over here and act like it?” you hissed, “last time i checked, boyfriends get excited whenever they see their significant other and not over genshin characters.”

now that was a bite to kenma’s ego as he finally pulled his eyes away from the screen and towards you. “what?” he says, confused.

“do you even like me anymore?”

kenma scoffs almost dumbfounded, “of course i do, how could you say that?”

“because i experience it everyday, kenma.” you confess, fighting to keep your heavy gaze onto your boyfriend as he approaches you. “every time i come by i always see you at your desk in front of your computer. you never greet me first and unless i verbally say something, you probably won’t even notice that i’m here.” you voice broke slightly

“i-i’m sorry, (y/n)—”

“do you ever stop and think of the fact that the only times we see each other if from me visiting you? if i were just to stop one day i’d figure we wouldn’t even have a relationship in the first place.” you sigh as you shook your head, “you probably wouldn’t even notice, anyway.”

almost immediately does kenma wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace, almost as if he feared that you would disappear if he were to let go in the slightest

he places a kiss on your forehead before resting his own against yours, “i don’t ever want to hear those words come from you every again, (y/n). i’m so so sorry, i’ll promise to be better.”

you melted within his embrace, feigning a smile from appearing as you quickly give him a peck before remembering that the bag of food you bought was still in your hand

“let’s start by eating before the food gets cold.”

— t. kei

unlike the rest of the previously mentioned boys, arguments are pretty common between you and tsukishima considering his nature

he’s constantly teasing and making fun of you, but all of which were just jokes not meant to be taken seriously and you were well aware of this too

it’s probably the main reason why tsuki found himself so enamored with you as you constantly matched his energy 

you two were shockingly similar with your humor and your smugness, but the main differences between the two of you was you academics

it’s not surprise how tsukishima is always at the top of his class while you’re always at the bottom of it

considering this, the majority of your dates during the week with him are usually study dates or normal dates that end with the two of  you either at the library or each other’s houses studying material for the following day’s test

it was clear that in order to date each other, you both had to have patience

you weren’t exactly the fastest learner and you easily got distracted with things around you that you’re honestly surprised that tsukishima’s nonexistent patience was still up and active

besides, he loved you. he had to understand your difficulties as most of the time you can’t help it, but at the same time his personality was like treading on broken glass

usually he had enough patience to last an entire two hour study session with you, but today was oddly different

nothing was going right with tsukishima’s day and he just got absolutely annoyed with every little thing from a person bumping into him in the halls to a stain on his uniform that you could barely even notice

right now, this was the tenth time he found you tuning him out and daydreaming

his knuckled turned alabaster from the pressure of squeezing his mechanical pencil. he huffed, trying to calm himself down as he rubbed his aching temples

“(y/n), were you even listening to what i was—”

“do you think giraffes know where other giraffes are from?” you interrupted him with another one of your mindless tangents, “like considering how the pattern of a giraffe’s fur depends on what regent they’re from, do you think a giraffe from southern africa could tell if another if from western africa—”

tsukishima was at his limit, “can’t you just shut the fuck up and focus for five minutes, (y/n)?” he shouts at you, “i swear, you wouldn’t be failing if you just listened for once.”

he huffs out in annoyance, completely ignoring the way the brightness in your expression fell into a frown

you weren’t mad as you honestly couldn’t blame him. having learning difficulties and a short attention span was burdening you boyfriend so much that he isn’t even obligated to be doing this for you

he was sacrificing his time tutoring you and you’re just wasting it

“i’m sorry i can’t learn as easily as you,” you mutter softly, picking up your things quickly

tsukishima gives you a look of confusion, “w-where are you going?”

“thanks for all your help, but i can’t keep wasting your time like this.” you say as you zipped up your backpack and left

the next day you walked to school alone. usually you would be walking with tsukishima and yamaguchi, but it seemed like even tadashi wasn’t there to wait outside your house either

you weren’t able to hide your melancholy as you entered your classroom, slightly glad that tsukishima and yamaguchi weren’t here yet to see your expression

it allowed you time to pull yourself together, and yet, that time alone was cut short as the two walked in

you briefly flicker them a look fast enough that they don’t notice, but long enough for you to see yamaguchi patting his best friend on the back with encouragement

tsukishima had something in his hands, but you were too far away to construe them

you looked back down to your desk, fiddling with you pencil and pretending as if you were thinking about what to write next

it was then did footsteps approach, arriving right next to you with a presence so unwavering

you gulped, hoping that it wasn’t who you thought it was as you looked it

of course it just had to be that one lanky boy with glasses and messy blond hair to be standing by your side

he was holding a stuffed giraffe and a small white box with string neatly tied around it

“i’m sorry for blowing up on you,” he bursts out his apology, “i know you have a hard time and i should’ve remembered that you can’t help it.”

he places the giraffe plushy and box onto your desk

“it’s an masai giraffe since i remembered you liking their unique fur pattern and i also got you strawberry short cake this morning before they ran out that’s why i wasn’t there to walk you to school.” tsukishima continues explaining, “i just hope you’re not angry with me.”

you felt a smile creeping up to your lips as you shook your head, “i could never.”