#nothing wrong with doing a bit of socket feeling
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this-too-shall-bleed · 5 months ago
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Let a man chill
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skektch
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sysig · 11 months ago
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Join in! No seriously join in, please, come on, you were invited (Patreon)
#Doodles#UT#Handplates#Sans#Papyrus#And a few others lol#Mix of things to make sure nothing's missed!#Starting with an idea I had fairly early lol - going to a party and only socializing with each other pfft#It's something smol and I would (and have) do/ne so to them it goes!#Sans at least some of the point of going to a party with other people is to socialize?#No lol#Walks past everyone and gives maybe a casual in-passing greeting but hovers around Papyrus the whole time#Papyrus on the other hand quite sociable! Just a bit less graceful haha ♪#Keep at it boys whatever makes you happy#Very slightly egg-shaped Sans! He's very clearly not sleeping don't you know lying is wrong#''but I lie all the time - on my mattress and the couch and the floor'' alright lol#Sleeps with one eye open - he would#There are some specific quirks I like to indulge in when drawing skeletons so I just piled them all up into one big piece! And it's weird!#I had fun tho hehe ♪ I like the weird socket-like shapes all over in the brow and on the nose of the bridge#I kept Sans' mouth cartoony and I'm not sure how I feel about the slightly more realistic teeth on Papyrus hmmm#He does have that line in his text sprite! Beak child#Weird little style things all over lol#And finally some cool guys in sunglasses! Or - one cool guy and one silly fellow lol#I was inspired by some very lovely pieces with Sans and it made me want to try a slightly more dynamic pose#And that ended up introducing glasses and Papyrus needed to join in! Very important haha#I'm quite pleased with both of them :) They look very cute and happy <3
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boy-cow000 · 11 months ago
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Drained
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Spencer x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Mostly Fluff, Mention of a case, Spencer feeling rough
Summary: After a particularly long case Spencer happens to lock himself out of his apartment. In need of help, he stumbles into the home of the only non-bau friend he has left. However, he finds himself much more comfortable with you than he originally thought.
Word Count: about 890
A/N: Pretty short blurb because I’ve been dying to write again but I’ve been too lazy to rub my two brain cells together and produce something :,D btw IDK what season this is in so use your imagination
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Spencer couldn't be more thankful for his job. Knowing the lives he saved and the people he helped was enough to get him through most of the especially rough cases. However, this most recent one had been particularly troubling. The random small American town they had been flown to was not known for their technological advancements, to say the least, and the lack of documentation had made Garcia's job almost impossible. On top of that, the intrusive and misguided opinion of the head chief of police had completely skewed the case in the wrong direction. Needless to say, Spencer was rightfully exhausted, along with the rest of the members of the BAU.
After landing and leaving the jet, he told himself that all he had to do was head home so he could finally sleep. Truth be told, it wasn’t even that late; the plane had landed around 8:20 PM. Yet, sleep was the only thing on Spencer's mind after that 48-hour case.
It took him some time to get home, but at this point, nothing but the sweet relief of his bed mattered. Except, much to his dismay, he seemed to have a little trouble finding his keys. Unfortunately for him, that “little trouble” turned into a full-blown panic very quickly. Spencer tried to remember where he had put it. Mentally swatting away the thick fog laying over his mind, he let his head smack against his front door in defeat when he realized that his keys were left on the jet. Calculating his options, it became apparent there weren’t many. His coworkers were probably already sleeping, and it's not like Spencer had a history of having an extensive list of friends. Well, except you, that is. Spencer didn’t feel like paying upwards of 65 to 120 dollars for some locksmith to come in the middle of the night, so you were starting to seem like the best option. Knowing you didn’t live far away, he grabbed his things and started to text you. On the drive over, he began feeling a little nervous. He wondered if the reason you weren’t answering was because you were asleep and if he was going to bother you.
Upon arriving, he felt at ease seeing the lights in your apartment on. He fumbled with his bags but managed to get to your front door without dropping anything. He was so tired. Blinded by the light of the inside of your apartment, he resorted to a curt “hi” once you opened the door. You let him in a bit panicked; to be frank, you didn't know why he had suddenly asked you if you could crash. You were still happy to see him, however.
After explaining the situation, you let out a sigh, knowing nothing serious had happened. You told him to make himself at home while you figured out where your extra covers were. He took off his shoes and sat himself on your couch, awaiting further instruction.
When you came back, you saw Spencer, palming the socket of his eyes. Your heart stopped for a second, worry took over, and you wondered if maybe the case was weighing on him more than he’d like to admit. You rushed over.
“ Spence! Are you okay?” You laid the covers on the edge of the couch and rested a hand on Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer peeked into your eyes for what seemed like forever—a breathless moment between his answers. You felt your heart form a lump in your throat; your cheeks flushed, and you suddenly felt guilty. What if Spencer was actually doing terrible and you couldn’t help him because you were too busy wrestling with the effect he had on you? Eventually, you broke the intense eye contact, and Spencer sighed in return.
”I’m fine, really. It’s just… I was exhausted a minute ago, and now”
”Not so much.” You finished his sentence for him. He let out a light chuckle and bumped shoulders with you. He must’ve been delirious, because you couldn’t think of another reason why he would’ve been comfortable enough for all that physical contact. Your torso stiffened, and while still trying to calm yourself down, he let his head roll onto your shoulder and nudge itself into your neck. Spencer was going to kill you if he kept this up.
Spencer snaked his arms around you, entrapping you and making you fall back into the couch a little. You grabbed his opposite shoulder, hoping to lay him back, but his head bobbled a little lower, and it was clear he was no longer awake. Spencer kept snuggling, and it was making it increasingly harder to get yourself out of his grasp. An incoherent thank you left his lips before he fully fell asleep. So you sat there, absolutely surrounded by Spencer. Glaring at his slumbering state. Overtly aware of his faint sent, of his hair brushing against your face, of his slowed breath on your neck, of his hand grasping your waist, of him.
Your own exhaustion was catching up to you at an alarming pace. Despite your brain and dignity screaming at you not to fall asleep in his arms, your thoughts were starting to blur. Eventually, you fell asleep, caged in, breathing to the sound of his heartbeat. With that, tomorrow promised itself to be interesting.
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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year ago
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A Demon’s Ache — Part 18
Eyeless Jack x Reader
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so much for your patience and kindness and support, I really hope you enjoy! ^^ 💝💖💗
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
He should leave
He should get the fuck out of your room so that he can actually think straight and figure out what to do
But he just can’t
You look so peaceful in his embrace, so sweet and innocent
He can’t bring himself to just abandon you
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to figure things out
He’s not the most knowledgeable about demon marks and what they mean, but he knows enough to understand that they’re serious
His first order of business, he realizes, should be research
If there’s any way to undo them, or at least minimize the effects, he should give it a shot
And the sooner he does it, the higher chance he has to fix this
Which brings him all the way back to square one; he should leave
He looks down at you
Your eyes are closed, brows relaxed, lips parted just the slightest bit as you breathe in slow, long breaths
He can practically feel the blood running through your veins, hear the way it pumps to your organs by the steady rhythm of your heart
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump
He swallows thickly, his mouth watering at the temptation of your flesh
He’s fucking salivating
He has to leave—now
But right as he shifts beneath you, you murmur something in your sleep and he freezes in place
He woke you up
He woke you up and now you’re going to see the mark and you’re going to loathe him for doing this to you
He flinches, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome
But all you do is nuzzle deeper into him, still half-asleep, and relief like no other washes over him
He can’t leave, he realizes
He should be there when you discover the mark
Even if it scares him—even if it absolutely terrifies him—he shouldn’t avoid this
He’s the one who created this mess; he has to be the one who deals with it too
He buries his face into your hair and breathes in deeply
Your scent is as soothing as always
He’ll figure it out, everything’s going to be ok
As long as he has you, everything’s going to be alright
It takes a short while, but eventually, you slowly start stirring awake
You mumble his name, pressing your face into the crook of his neck to avoid the glare of the sunlight, and he hums in response
Don’t think about the mark, don’t panic, don’t make it obvious something’s wrong
Part of him wants to outright blurt it out, but another part of him, a more dominant part of him, wants to savour every second he can before admitting to it
And it’s wrong
And he knows it’s wrong to withhold this kind of information from you, but fuck, how can he resist the temptation of your ignorance for just a moment longer?
You stretch your stiff limbs out, eyelashes tickling his jawline as you blink away the sleep clouding your mind
You hum peacefully, as if waking up next to him is nothing short of blissful, and that knot of guilt tightens in his stomach
Reaching up from under the comforter, your fingertips trace over Jack’s chest, moving all the way up his collarbone to his neck, and finally, over his Adam’s apple
He has to resist the urge to swallow down his heartache out of fear you might somehow feel it
But even then, even despite everything, your touch is so gentle, so soft
He can’t remember the last time anyone treated him with so much warmth, so much kindness
His eyelids instinctively flutter close over the messy black tar dripping from his sockets
And as he does, it’s like he can almost trick himself into believing things are different
He can almost pretend you’re both human, and you’re waking up in your shared bedroom in the apartment you both picked out together
He can act like it’s a quiet Saturday morning, and it’s a sunny day outside, and the birds are chirping and neither of you have anything planned
You’re both free to relax, to spend as much time in bed as the both of you want, and any minute now, he’s going to get up to make you breakfast while you prepare the coffee
“Come shower with me”
He’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice, still gravelly and laced with sleep
When he reopens his eyes, he finds you smiling, still evidently sleepy, and the sight makes his heart flutter in his chest
“Mmh,” he makes a noise of agreement in his throat, and your smile grows
How’re you so effortlessly gorgeous?
You sit up, lazily stretching your arms over your head, and the motion causes the sheets to fall from your form, exposing the entirety of your naked back to him
He’s at a loss for words
The way your skin stretches over your curves, the way the morning light dances over your body—you look ethereal
He wants to reach out, wants to touch every inch of your skin—he wants to worship you
But then you roll your neck out to ease the stiffness in your muscles, and in doing so, it reveals that deep blemish on your skin once more
It’s all it takes for his perfect moments to fall apart, crumbling like ashes in the breeze
Fuck
What the fuck kind of mess did he get the both of you into?
Completely oblivious to his dilemma, to the pained mix of emotions blooming in his chest, you turn to him with that gentle smile on your face
“You coming?”
He can’t keep his hands off you in the shower
It’s hot and steamy, and the space is just small enough to give him an excuse to press up so wonderfully close to you
Warm water glides off your body, outlining every dip and curve of your form, and he finds himself tracing over it, almost absent-minded, like he’s under a spell
You’ve bewitched him
You stand on the tip of your toes, and he almost thinks you’re about to kiss him, but all you do is reach behind him for the soap, and he has to hide his disappointment
“Let me help you,” you murmur
He nods, and then you’re lathering up his skin and touching him all over
You start at his chest, fingers dancing over both his pecs and in the valley of his hard muscles
You follow an invisible path over both his shoulders, feeling the broad expanse of them at the same time, and then move all the way down to his biceps
He wonders what’s going through your mind
All he can think about is, again, how no one else has ever been so loving with his body—especially not after his transformation
He wonders if, despite your kindness, some part of you wishes his skin was a normal human colour, or a normal human firmness
He wonders if you would’ve maybe agreed to officially date him if he wasn’t what he is
You move down to his forearms, then trace all the way back up his shoulders and down his chest until the whole top portion of his body’s clean
You seem to inhale sharply as you continue down to his torso
Down his stomach, your fingertips smooth over the ridges of his muscles before reaching his V-line
There’s no hiding it any longer, no hiding his desire for you
He’s worried it’ll put you off, but then he smells your arousal even through the soap’s perfume, and he realizes it’s mutual
Either way, you still don’t make any moves to initiate anything, so neither does he
He simply lets you clean him, lets you touch his body to your heart’s content until you’re reaching down to his calves and the next thing he knows, you’re kneeling before him and his dick is inches from your face
You bite your lip, glancing up at him, and that look in your eyes has him twitching right in front of you
You don’t have to do this, he wants to say, he appreciates it and everything but it’s really not necessary
But then you lean up and press a kiss to his tip and god, he wants to throat-fuck you so fucking badly
Your lips are perfectly soft as you kiss him again, and then you part your mouth open to stick your tongue out and lap at the precum dribbling from his slit
“Fuck, (y/n)”
He groans out a gravelly curse, throwing his head back as his hips jut forward in search of more
When you roll your tongue over his tip, lavishing the most sensitive part of his cock with attention, he has to grind his teeth together to prevent a snarl from rippling out
He snaps a hand out to tangle into your hair because he needs something to stabilize himself
And at the same time, it provides the perfect opportunity to drag you forwards, pressing you closer up against his cock so you’ve almost no choice but to swallow him down
You whimper around him, and feeling you do so drives him wild
He tries to let you suck him off at your own pace, he really does
But he just can’t resist impatiently pushing and pulling at your hair, all while his hips instinctively jerk forward, trying to cram more of himself down your throat, trying to feel more of you around him
And he feels bad for making you gag around him, but at the same time, fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing ever
He growls your name, bringing his other hand up to your hair, and when you look up at him, your eyes all watery and pleading, he slowly but surely feels his grasp on his self-control slipping
How can he resist face-fucking such a pretty little thing like you?
You almost seem to want it as much as he does, too
Squeezing your eyes shut with your brows furrowing in concentration, you slacken your jaw and stick your tongue out, creating just the perfect entrance for him to fuck however he pleases
Your lips stretch out around his thick cock, your cute little muffled whimpers making him pulse on your tongue with every thrust
He should be ashamed of the way he’s using you—but you just feel so fucking good
Watching you struggle to choke down his length is almost just as satisfying as the way your throat keeps tightening around him
Combined with the way your arousal’s filling the air—it’s bliss
He snarls something indistinct, thrusting hard and fast enough to make his balls slap against your chin every time he reaches the very back of your throat
And the combination of it all has his stomach tightening, but it’s just not enough to cum
No—he wants to save that to breed you
A few more seconds of enjoyment is all he allows himself before he pulls you off of him
He’s panting, chest heaving as he takes a moment to recover from the euphoria of your mouth
His cock is aching for more
“C’mere,” he says, and there’s that demonic lilt to his voice he can’t always control as he helps you back up again, “s’my turn to clean you”
Even though it’s hard to focus, even though all he can think about is bending you over and screwing your pretty little brains out, he tries his best to be as caring and considerate as you’d been with him
He lathers you up with soap, using it as an excuse to touch you even more, to massage every inch of your body
His hands savour the curves of your sides, from your chest to your waist, down to your hips and thighs, and then all the way back up to your chest again
He doesn’t fail to notice the way your breath hitches when his touch grazes over your tits—of course he doesn’t, he never doesn’t notice—so he allows himself the indulgence of squeezing them
They fit wonderfully in his palms, even as he grabs and toys with them at his leisure
You arch your back up, trying to push more of your chest into his hands, and if he wasn’t so turned on right now, he might chuckle at how needy you’re being
He tugs and pinches at your nipples, and when you make a breathy little whimper, it has him throbbing
“So good, little one, you’re doing so fucking good for me”
He’s so fucking horny
He drags his fingers along the inner flesh of your thighs, teasing at your sensitive skin
“You want it, little morsel, you want this?”
It’s not like he doesn’t know the answer, it’s not like he can’t tell how desperate you are when you nudge your legs further apart for him
But he wants to hear you say it
“Y-yes, Jack—please. Please, I want you~”
A slave to your every whim and desire as always, he pushes his fingers between your folds, and the both of you groan in unison as he stretches you out
He can just imagine you clenching around his cock instead of his digits
When he curls his finger just the right way, a moan bubbles from your parted lips and you stumble in place, like you almost can’t handle just how good he feels
With his free hand, he lifts your leg up, hooking it around his hip and pressing your back to the shower wall
You’ve nowhere to squirm, nowhere to escape
All you can do is take it
In and out, he pumps his fingers into your velvety walls until your thighs are shaking and your mewls are getting louder than the sound of the water hitting the tiles
Your shaky hands reach out to dig crescents into his skin, and the pain mixing in with his insatiable lust is such a wonderfully heady combination
When you moan his name again, he realizes he can’t wait any longer
He pulls his fingers out, lifts you up and presses your back to the shower wall so you're completely trapped against his muscular build
And then he aligns himself to your entrance, his thick tip catching at the edges of your entrance before finally, finally, he sinks all the way in
It's heaven
The way you suck him in, the way your walls flutter around him—you're divine
You shift in his hold, like you're trying to accommodate to the sheer size of him, and it has the plush flesh of your ass grinding right against his balls
He tries to hold back a moan, but part of it escapes him in a gravelly rumble, and you seem to tense around him when it does
With you clinging onto him like this, he doesn't even need to move his hips to fuck himself into you
All he does is lift you up and lower you back down, using your own weight as momentum, and the simple motion already has you whimpering and gushing around his cock
"Fuck, morsel~"
You're making his head spin
He's dizzy, already drunk off your sex
Up and down, up and down, he uses you like a toy, barely flinching from your weight even despite how much you keep squirming
The way you keep jutting your hips against him—like you're either trying to help or just too fucking horny to stay still—is so fucking adorable
Saliva filling his mouth at the temptation of it all—at the temptation of you and those little sounds you keep making and the smell of your arousal and god, just everything that makes you so infuriatingly irresistible—he presses his head into the crook of your neck, trying to hide the fact that he's very much so on the verge of drooling over you
But then he sees it again—sees that mark he left on your skin with his teeth, claiming you as his mate, and even though he should be fucking disgusted that he gave it to you without your consent, it instead has the opposite effect and it makes him snap
His
You're his—it's physically undeniable
It's like the realization really sinks in during the heat of the moment, now that he's too sex-drunk and shameless to care, and something about his instincts and his possessiveness just completely takes over
Animalistically fast and deliciously hard, he fucks into you like an animal in heat
With every thrust, he slams you down onto his cock and jerks his hips up into you, making the flesh of your thighs jiggle from the rush of actions as the smacking of his pelvis against yours fills the room
He's not entirely sure if he's hitting your cervix or your g-spot, too dazed in his fervor to care, but he knows he must be hitting something good because you're screaming for him
And it doesn't take long for your muscles to seize and your body to start shaking uncontrollably, and it's hard to tell because of all the water from the shower, but you're either squirting all over him or just getting really, really messy all of a sudden
His cock pulses and twitches between clenching walls, and you're squeezing him so hard it's almost painful but fuck if the pain doesn't feel good
Your body is so small and so delicate compared to his, but he can't bring himself to have the restraint he normally has
He's done controlling himself—he wants to wreck you
It all gets a bit blurry like it normally does when he loses himself to his instincts
The next thing he knows, he has you bent over the bathroom sink in front of the mirror, and the both of you are still dripping from the shower, which is still running in the background, but he couldn't care less
All he cares about is breeding you
He's never felt such a powerful urge to do so like this before
Your shaky hands claw helplessly at the ceramic of the sink, as if that could help you get a grip, but it's no use because he won't stop until he's ruined you
When he looks at your reflection, he finds that your eyes have rolled back and your mouth is parted in a mix of silent screams, broken gasps and dumb babbles of his cock splitting you in half, but that's not what he wants
He wants you to look at him when he pumps the entirety of his load inside you
Which is why, with one hand bruising your thigh to force you in place, force you still for him fuck you open, the other reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your gaze up
"Look at me, little whore—look at me when I fill you up, when I breed that perfect cunt and make you all mine"
It's like he doesn't have control of his actions or his words because even he barely recognizes that demonic snarl lacing his tone
It almost sounds like he’s threatening you
"Beg, my little bitch, beg for your mate's cum"
It's hard to distinguish any coherent words in your desperate babbling, and even in the unfocused reflection of your eyes, he can tell you're overstimulated, overwhelmed, struggling to accept every inch of his cock brutally pounding into your walls
But watching you struggle to obey him and feeling you struggle around him like writhing prey turns him on so fucking badly
He wants to give it all to you—you deserve to take it all
Which is why, with one final resounding thrust, he sheathes himself all the way inside you, sealing his hips into yours so that his cock is as deep as it'll go
You're on the very tip of your toes, the whole weight of your body supported almost solely by his pelvis in order to dig his cock into you
And with an inhuman sound, he finally cums
It feels good
It feels so, so good; better than any other orgasm he's ever experienced
It's like his whole body is alive, thrumming with a rush of adrenaline as ecstasy floods his veins
His body lurches forwards, jaw flexing shut as he somehow manages to resist sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade
And your little whimpers and gasps are just as fucking cute as ever
His orgasm is long and hard, and even after his high has reached its peak, he stays sheathed inside you
He's thoroughly wrecked your body; he can tell by how limp you've gone, letting yourself be held up only by him and the counter and nothing else
And he realizes he should pull out, give you a moment to rest and offer any and all aftercare you might need
But he doesn't want his cum to spill out of you
He wants to stay connected to you for as long as possible
And after all, why shouldn't he?
You're his mate
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gintrinsic-writing · 1 year ago
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Twilight was a no-good filthy traitor. Legend hoped a bird shit on his head, or that he had to walk with wet socks, or that all of his hair burned off during the next monster fight. It would only serve him right.
“He looks like he’s plottin’ my demise,” Twilight muttered in an aside to Hyrule.
“Because I am,” Legend bit out, only keeping his voice down so the others didn’t wake. If there was any mercy to be found, it was that Twilight hadn’t told anyone else yet. Goddess knows that would only make things worse.
Hyrule took a slow, deep breath—bracing himself, or maybe out of patience. Legend didn’t know him well enough to say, yet. For a healer, he was surprisingly prickly at times. “We’re only concerned, Legend. Let us help you.”
“And I’m telling you, there’s nothing to help.”
“Twilight said he’s seen you wearing those rings every night.” Hyrule glanced at Legend’s fingers pointedly. “We recognize them. You once mentioned they’re for healing.”
“So what?” Legend snarked.
“So quit being a stubborn bastard and tell us where you’re hurt,” Twilight grumbled, voice just shy of too loud. “You wouldn’t wear ‘em without reason. You’ve said yourself you don’t like wastin’ magic.”
“They’re passive,” Legend sighed, then held up his hands when they both scoffed and opened their mouths to argue. “Why can’t you simply trust me to handle my own shit?”
“Because you’re not on your own now,” Hyrule argued. “We’re a team, and if you’re hurting when one of us can help—”
“Good Three, are you deaf?” Legend snapped in a whisper. “I already said you can’t!”
Hyrule’s ears flattened, and he lowered his gaze. Legend instantly felt like shit.
“Prove it, then,” Twilight said. “Let him do a quick scan, and if there’s truly nothing, we’ll apologize and leave you alone.”
Legend wanted to throw something. He half-considered shoving Twilight just to have an outlet for some of his frustration, but the farm boy was built like a brick shithouse. Probably wouldn’t do Legend the courtesy of budging. “You know what? Fine. Since you’re incapable of respecting my privacy, fine.”
They both looked chastised, but not enough to stop them from taking advantage of Legend’s reluctant acquiescence. Hyrule stepped forward—and wasn’t that its own sharp discomfort, allowing someone into his space without bristling—and placed glowing hands near Legend’s head and chest. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the camp fire. Then Hyrule made an unhappy sound in the back of his throat.
“Your right knee…”
As if on cue, an ache shot up through Legend’s leg. “Old ACL tear.”
“It didn’t heal well.”
“No.”
Seconds passed, Hyrule chewing on his lower lip. “What about your back?”
“Nerve damage after a fall.”
Twilight winced. “How high?”
Legend bitterly recalled the unforgiving rocky slopes of Tal Tal Heights. “High,” he answered curtly.
Hyrule shifted his hands. “Your hip—was it dislocated?”
“Mhm. Lynel clipped me.”
“It’s not… Your socket must’ve been damaged as well. It’s not a great fit.”
“I’m aware.”
“And your left ankle?” Hyrule asked quietly. “A fracture?”
“I didn’t have time to set it properly. Had to chug a potion and run.” He figured it went without saying that the alternative would’ve been much worse.
Hyrule frowned. “There’s some scarring in your lungs. Does it hurt to breathe?”
A small raft, a large storm. Choking on salt water as waves crashed overhead. Waking up on Koholint, convinced he must’ve drowned— “Not enough to matter.”
“I see…” Hyrule suddenly took Legend’s left hand in both of his. He was so, so gentle. It made Legend want to hide under a rock. “Can you feel anything in your palm?”
“Besides pins and needles?” Legend shrugged. “Hardly. Burn went too deep.”
Twilight shifted uncomfortably where he stood. “Hyrule, can you heal any of this?”
Hyrule hesitated, then took a step back, letting go of Legend’s hand. “I can try but…” He shook his head sadly. “There’s so much more. So many little traumas that healed wrong, or weren’t addressed in time. Some of your joints are relying on scar tissue for support to function. The arthritis alone, it—I can’t even imagine. Oh, Legend, I’m so sor—”
“I know,” Legend hissed, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. “I fucking know, but you both insisted, and—and there’s nothing to be done, is there? Nothing to do but deal with it, like I always have.” He scoffed, fidgeting with one of his rings. “Only now, you know how broken I am. Congratulations, I guess. I’m proof of what it means to be the goddesses’ favorite.”
Twilight reached out, probably intending to offer comfort, but Legend flinched away. He wasn’t sure why he’d said that last bit. He wished he could take it back. “Just… please,” he started, too tired and ashamed to keep up his anger. “Give me some privacy, and don’t tell the others. Can you at least do that for me?”
Twilight finally looked appropriately regretful. Too bad it didn’t make Legend feel any better. “Of course, Ledge,” he murmured. “And I’m—truly, I’m sorry for pryin’.”
“It’s fine,” Legend said, which wasn’t true, but it was better than “whatever” or “you should be.” He thinks they understood anyway.
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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 7 months ago
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How would the main 10 react if they were sleeping in the same bed as an S/O who had a nightmare, and when they woke up was scared of the skelly for just a moment? Like who would be offended vs. just concerned? Sorry if this has been asked before! I thought I looked hard enough.
Undertale Sans - Definitely concerned. He knows what bad nightmares are. He waits for you to calm down before slowly asking if you want to discuss it. Sans is good at finding words to comfort you so you two can go back to sleep.
Undertale Papyrus - He's very concerned. He lived this scenario a lot with Sans already, so he doesn't mind you being a bit scared. He pats your back until you feel better then starts to talk about random things to change your ideas.
Underswap Sans - He jumps a little at your stare but doesn't take offense more than that. He's just relieved you're ok. Now, he's not the best at comforting people, but he tries some bad jokes to change your ideas.
Underswap Papyrus - He hugs his S/O tight until they're fine again. Honey is a bit concerned, but he knows how bad nightmares can be. He shows he's there for you and will keep you in his arms until you fall back asleep.
Underfell Sans - It hurts a bit, but it's not important. Red can tell you're not ok right now and he prefers to focus on that. He asks you if you're ok, and then awkwardly pets your back or your head to comfort you. He's not sure he's doing it right, but he's trying.
Underfell Papyrus - It definitely hurts. He was about to hug you but he freezes at your reaction and then decides to give you some space. He's unsure what to do or say as he's not sure if he did something wrong. He simply stays in bed, sitting next to you, waiting to see if you're going to reject him or accept his help. You decide.
Horrortale Sans - He's not awakened enough to notice honestly. Eye sockets half closed, he grabs your arm and kinda yanks you against him. He then starts to purr to soothe you while he falls back asleep, hugging you tightly.
Horrortale Papyrus - He acts like nothing happened because you're clearly distressed and simply comforts you like usual. You understand at his stress baking the rest of the day that he actually noticed a lot and that it made him very insecure about himself. Willow doesn't want to bother you by talking about it so he kinda bottled his feelings.
Swapfell Sans - You getting spooked of him actually spooked him and he punched you in the face instinctively as a defense mechanism lol. Well, at least you're back asleep very fast. You're a bit confused when you wake up with a headache a few hours later.
Swapfell Papyrus - Uh. He's a bit nervous and just boops your nose hoping to stop that scared expression in your eyes. Come on, bud, it's just little old' him, nothing to be scared about. Rus is strangely a little more silent than usual that day.
Fellswap Gold Sans - "Are you going to stop staring at me like that tonight or tomorrow?" Ah... Wine and his legendary compassion. He's a bit grumpy that you woke him up and just turned his back on you to go back to sleep lol. Go see Coffee if you want comfort, he's not helping for sure.
Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He looks behind him in fear, thinking you saw a monster behind him or something and just... stares in confusion. As there's nothing there. Uh. Ok. Now he's scared to. So how about you two hug until you both forget what just happened?
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oleandequill · 11 days ago
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A Reflection of Nothing in You (SG TFOne Fanfic)
Sort of a prequel to this and also based off of my other post because the holiday prep has slowed down a bit and I felt like writing something otherwise I might explode. I really should probably focus on the games I'm playing but I just love writing too much lmao
So have this, more of my SG TFOne!Megatron being a Medic for the Decepticons propaganda /j (okay the reason he's in this role is cause I don't think he would have had a reason to take the leadership from SG!Starscream and well the Decepticons might need a scientist/medic cause they all seem to be military mechs - though I'm sure they probably do have a medic among them... surely).
“Is that your cannon, or are you just excited to see me?”
If that question had been posed before the procedure, Megatron may have been agitated enough to shoot the mech in the chassis. The words themselves were enough to send disgust through his processor, but it was because of the question rather than who had asked it. The lack of reaction in his blue optic must have caught the other mech’s attention since he froze, giving Megatron the opportunity to slam the end of the cannon against that purple helm. With the other mech stunned, he quickly moved away.
There was a tense silence, even with the ongoing chaos around them. Megatron took a moment to turn his optic away, catching a glimpse of Thundercracker and Skywarp as they attempted to carry an unconscious Starscream from the battlefield. Truthfully, Megatron had been prohibited from entering the battlefield after his recent stunt. However, as the medic, he found that disobeying Commander Starscream’s order was necessary if they wanted to keep more Decepticons alive. Besides, how could he have stayed inside the base when the communication lines were blaring the same message over and over?
‘Commander Starscream has fallen! Fall back!’
He genuinely thought his wings would crack at how fast he had flown over. Fortunately, it had merely been a misreport. The axe had taken most of the chassis off, but the spark was still intact. If he had been a second later, maybe the Decepticons really would have lost their leader. Luckily, as per usual, his presence on the battlefield was always enough to distract the mad Prime from pursuing who he had been fighting. His relief for Commander Starscream was short-lived though as he was left alone with the Prime. No other mech would dare to intervene now.
“Your optic…” It was whispered so quietly that he’d nearly missed it. Megatron trained it back towards the mech before him, a sort of indignation rising in his spark. But not at the Prime, no, it was only a reaction to the audacity of this mech to mention his optic when he was the cause why one was missing in the first place. Even now, it was difficult to look at the other without focusing on the singular blue optic on the Prime’s faceplate. His optic that the other mech had torn from its socket. “Do you recognize me, Dee?”
Although he knew the carnage around them was because of the Prime’s inability to relinquish power, Megatron could almost understand what his old self saw in Optimus Prime. Maybe there was still a part of the Prime’s spark that was Orion Pax. Surely there was, because why would he have created reprogramming to rid himself of the feelings he’d held for the other mech? If Orion Pax had truly died, then his old self would have had no reason to hold on. He would have had no reason to commit such an unethical act to free himself from the sparkbreak.
“My memory circuits are intact, Prime. I know who you are.” He kept the cannon trained on the mech in front of him. The emotional part of him was aware that there was something inherently wrong about the emptiness in his spark. He was missing a crucial component inside him. The memories of their past were still there in his processor, but there was nothing to feel - as though the memories were merely flashing images. “You were once Orion Pax, maybe you still are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You are nothing more than the enemy of freedom to me.”
There was a tense silence before the Prime began to stomp his way towards him. He didn’t hesitate, firing off a singular shot that the other mech immediately dodged. The Prime didn’t dare get any closer, instead, his mouthplate opened - showing how hard the other mech was venting. The Prime’s red and blue optics had softened, even if they still held lingering traces of anger. They flickered to the rest of the Decepticons still left on the field, as if searching for someone to blame. Then, his gaze was drawn back to him. “Dee… what have they done to you?” 
“According to my memories, you always insisted we should not be afraid to do what we want. That it is our right to… be more than what we are and that we should make our own choices.” His tone was even, unable to feel a hint of guilt despite shooting at a mech his old self had once loved. The emptiness in his spark was unbearable, but Megatron had no way of reversing the procedure - not that he wished to do so. “Why do you try to deflect the blame instead of believing that I made this decision myself, Prime?”
“Because you wouldn’t dare—” The Prime growled out through gritted dentas. A disbelieving smile appeared on the other mech’s faceplate, his servos twitching by his sides as though he wanted to pull Megatron closer - either to keep him in his arms or shake him, Megatron was not quite sure. His memories of the other mech were confusing. At some points, Orion Pax had been rather clingy. In others, he was rather pushy. “You wouldn’t dare… Come on, Dee. A mech like you? We both know you wouldn’t do something so cruel to anyone. I thought that was my job, remember?”
“I distinctly remember calling you cruel.” He nodded. His old self must have been desperate if he had resorted to reprogramming technology. If the emptiness in his spark was unbearable, Megatron had to wonder what the sparkbreak must have felt like. He wondered if it was the same reflected pain that was on the Prime’s face, as though he had lost something he could never get back. “Understand that the me before you feels nothing for you, but I believe my old self loved you very much. He must have if he was willing to break his own moral code.”
The Prime had closed his optics, letting Megatron’s words wash over him. Then those optics opened, and the mouthplate was back on. “A new technology you created then?”
“I created it, yes.” Megatron started to back off, seeing from the corner of his optic that most of the Decepticons were beginning to retreat. He could hear his own communication device beeping rapidly, an order to fall back.
The Prime followed slowly after him, those optics trained on his faceplate. “Care to share?”
A rueful smile found its way to his dermas. “So you could use it for your own selfish gains? I’d rather you take out my other optic than ever give you the blueprint.”
“Oh Dee, I wouldn’t use it for selfish reasons.” The other mech had the audacity to laugh. “I only want to fix you.”
“You’d only make me worse.”
He turned while indiscriminately taking a singular shot at the mad Prime again. He didn’t know if he hit his target, having already transformed into his alt and flying away.
Now that he had properly met the Prime after the procedure, Megatron couldn’t help but worry that his apathy would only make the other mech more wrathful.
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justjams2003 · 6 months ago
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Over-ripe
I fear...people are going to be a bit upset with me for starting a new story and not updating any of my other ones... But I have to go where the old man obsession takes me! And I fear this time it's bad...those who follow my second blog know...
So, here is my vision. You've heard of Big Daddy Elvis (BDE). And you've heard of vampire!Elvis. So please all imagine for me, Alpha!Big Daddy Elvis.... I fear the brainrot has me...
Summary: After an exhausting night, overwhelmed by the crowd and meds, Elvis stumbles onto the wrong floor. Where he finds an omega, innocent, sweet like over-ripe fruit, ready to be plucked.
Pairing: Alpha!Big Daddy Elvis x Omega!Innocent!reader
Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Omegaverse, grooming (kind of), reader just barely 18, talk of: heats, ruts, scent glands, rutting, scenting, fated mates. Over-protective, obsessive. Innocent reader. Toxic/abusive father, gambling addiction. Alcohol, drugs. Talk of divorce, mentioning Priscilla. Tell me if I missed any.
Word count: 4,4k+ unedited
Dividers by:@mmadeinheavenn and @crylynnluv
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Everything is spinning like one of those damn globes on a stand. The music, it all just sort of becomes one big blur of a ringing sort of noise. The pheromones of a million horny teenage omega is just the thing to send an alpha like him into overdrive. The sweat drips in his eyes and as the people cheer his name but, he can only curse the name of one. 
That damned so-called Doctor Nick got the dose wrong again or something. Because this feels like a migraine had a love child with a hungover and birthed the damned throbbing sensation in his head.
Doctor Nick was supposed to suppress his senses and now it only feels heightened by a million. What only makes it worse is the people begging for his attention after the show. Clinging to him more than the sweat clings to his hairy stomach. 
"Sonny, God damn it, would yah leave me alone. All of yah!" His temper flares as a thick Southern rumble comes from him. His entourage all jump back, realising that the charming smile he gave on stage was as fake as it could come today.
He has no control over his alpha voice and everyone around him preens, baring their neck in submission. Not that he didn't love when people begged for his attention, except only when it didn't feel like someone was dead set on killing him. 
His feet drag across the carpet floor and in his messy haze he chooses 3 instead of 30. The white LED lights match the colour of the rows and rows of doors. And right now, he couldn't give a damn if he was on some random floor he didn't entirely recognise. Instead, he just sort of slumps down against the wall. His stage outfit feels entirely too tight, and he claws around his bulge hoping for some sort of relief. 
His head hangs in between his knees as chest heaves. Like his heart is going to explode. How long he sits there, he has no clue. But only when his hearing comes back it's sharply interrupted with a loud frustrated yell. And then the harsh slamming of the door. He doesn't bother to raise is head as his voice rumbles out. 
"Would you stop it with that damn hollering!" But it's more a command than anything, and his words are met with a sharp inhale. His head very slowly and carefully raises, he expected some sort of fight back for his command. Or at least some sort of faffing about his name.
But his heart is quickly grabbed and twisted right out of his socket when his eyes meet with ones so big and watery. 
A scent of an omega, so sickly sweet he hasn't smelled anything like it before. Like an over-ripe mango in the middle of summer. Nice and cold from the fridge, cooling your insides from the summer eat. The type you have to eat like the sloppy animal you are. Your teeth ripping into the soft flesh. The juices cover your mouth and drip-drip-drip down to your sweaty chest. Your hands a vibrant orange colour from the sweet nectar. And even days later when you lick your lips you can taste mango and nothing else. 
And suddenly the ringing fades away as he feels guilt stab through him for yelling at something so fragile looking. A girl, but a little thing compared to him, sort of slumps down against the door, same as he had. She pulls her knees up against her chest and then fiddles with the hem of her much too short dress.
"I-I'm sorry sir, I didn't know- I didn't think of- um-" She sort of stutters out an apology. Along with the honey covered fruit smell, she reeks of a beta. All around her like someone pissed on her feet to mark their scent.  
But he just can't seem to find himself to care all too much about the weak response. "What's got you all fussy?" The alpha in him instantly wanting to coddle the little omega.
He leans his back against the wall as he rests his hands on his wide spread legs. Almost as if he's making himself bigger for the little girl to either be scared of him, or trust him, he doesn't entirely know yet. His chest puffs out and he licks his sharp teeth. She might reek of another man but he's quick to notice no mating mark.  
"My papa, he's being a big... meanie." He almost had to stifle a laugh, that was most definitely not the response he was expecting. This 'papa' must be the one protecting or, or at least trying to, with his gasoline scent. "And why's that, little one?" Elvis asks, fighting off his iconic side smirk as he truly takes her in. As cute as a button, but with the body of a woman and yet dressed in something clearly not age appropriate. 
"That's just the thing. I ain't so little no more. I just turned 18, I'm a big girl. He brings me to Vegas. I thought that meant I could do yah know, what grown ups do." Her voice rambles, still playing with the hem of her too short dress. He can see her cute little pink panties showing but she doesn't seem to realise it. Or at least if she does, she doesn't seem to know it's a bad thing. He spreads his legs wider, hoping for some relief. 
"And what would that be?" Elvis can see when he just opens his mouth, a light dusting of pink falls on her cheeks before falling away again. "Yah know..." She mumbles, but it's clear that she isn't entirely all too sure. "No I don't, you'll have to tell me." His voice is coated with a condescending tone however it doesn't register with her. Instead she just sort of leans her neck to the side, already submitting to him. Such a weak little thing. No fight either.  
Her front two teeth capture her bottom lip before letting it go with a pop. He can see her small little canines and his subconscious mind immediately thinks of how tiny her mark would look on his shoulder.
 "Yah know... Talking about grown up stuff and dancing, all in pretty, fancy clothes." Elvis supposed that it could definitely be seen like that to someone like her. He however doesn't really want to break this bubble that she lives in and just nods, showing her to continue. 
"But he won't let me. Just tells me that he's got himself into trouble with dangerous men and that I can't go out. What's that gotta do wit' me?" Things seem to slowly fall in place for the famous rock star. A gambling addict, in debt to one of the many mafia that seem to run this place. Trying to keep such a frigid omega safe. But clearly, this little one needs an alpha like him. To mark her, let the whole world know she’s his. "He's right. Vegas ain't all that they make it out to be." 
She huffs, clearly not liking this answer and her tongue moves again. "How would you know? You ain't Elvis Presley." Now... now he really can't stop himself from smiling. "How would yah know, little girl?" Again, like before, she gets all wide-eyed when he uses a pet name like that. "My papa tells me Elvis is...is...a delinquent. Whatever that is... And a, uh, sexual deviant. And well, I don't really know what either o' those mean but I know yah ain't either of them." 
An earthy deep rumble laugh escapes him. "Aren't yah just something?" He mumbles, shaking his head. Usually he'd be pissed off that someone would go around saying stuff like that about him. But the way she stumbles over the big words that don't register in her mind can only make him laugh. She so needs someone to take care of her. "And why would somethin' like yah want to go out in Vegas? Doin' all these adult thangs?" 
She looks down, slightly embarrassed by his laugh. But also entirely unsure about this hot feeling that tickles her stomach when he laughs like that, or talks like that, or looks at her like that. Or this sticky substance that she feels coating her thighs.
"I like dancin'. But Papa don't like the way I dance, he don't like me dancin'. Says I'll end up becoming just like that Elvis fellow if I dance. But, a big girl like me should be able to do what she wants." 
She sounds so sure of herself and now Elvis really has to see this dancing she's talking about. "Well, I suppose so. But if a sweet thing like you goes around doin' what she wants in a big girl place likes this, she'd get taken advantage of." Just like he's about to do now. But he just can't resist bringing this little thing out and seeing the look on her face as he corrupts her. Safe her for himself, make her see the way he wants. She’s so easily could be moulded into his. 
She tilts her head to the side, like a confused puppy. Damn this damn costume really is too tight now. He stands, trying to adjust himself without her noticing.
"How about this, little girl. If your Papa leaves you all on your own again, you find the nearest elevator, m'kay?" Elvis speaks, a commanding, dominant, alpha tone in his voice as he points to her where to go. He knows the best gambling times are right before and during his shows, there are less people in there then. The Colonel is always gone at these times too... 
Like an obedient dog she nods her head, looking up at him. Wide eyes swimming with the sweetness her scent carries. "Then you gon' press the button for the very highest floor. Once you're there, don't get scared when a big lookin' guy asks what yah lookin for. Just tell 'em that Aron is lookin' for his little lamb. Alright? He should show you 'round then. Alright?" She quickly scrambles to her feet. 
She nods her head frantically, wiping her sweaty palms on her little dress, since everything suddenly just feels so hot. Elvis is quick to see the way her thighs rub together, a smirk falls on his lips and it takes everything in him not to groan. To not fuck her right here on the hotel floor and mark her as his.
What’s going on? He didn’t even mark Priscilla. He never felt this impossibly crazy, like a real fucking animalistic need to make her his...this just has to be something more. 
"Okay Sir. And that's your name then? Aron?" Elvis winces slightly. He doesn't like people calling him that. Sounds like his mama is scolding him all over again. But he also, really, for now, doesn't want her to know who he really is. She’d sigh away, hearing what her father said about him. "It's uh my second name, I don't want you quite knowing my name yet, dollface. I gotta go now though. But you'll be a big girl and do as I ask?" 
Her teeth find her bottom lip again as she fights off the whimper that threatens to escape her when he says something like that. Her pink lips become even pinker when her wet tongue grazes it. She leans against the door handle, needing some sort of support to keep herself up, as she nods, showing she'll listen. He gives his iconic smile. "Alright, good girl. See yah then."  
The girl gently slides open the door. The smell of alcohol is strong in this little rented hotel room. But she doesn't care. She leans against the door, a big smile forms on her face and she lets out a dreamy sigh.
Her thighs clench together when she thinks about that southern drawl of his again. And she just can't help but wonder if it was fated for her to meet this beautiful big man. 
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He'll be damned. He didn't think that there was anyone left who didn't know what he looked like. Much less what he sounded like. His voice is just about everywhere these days and if she didn't recognise him at all it means he has discovered a gem he's been searching for. Someone who didn't treat him like the great Elvis Presley, but instead like some man. 
And even if he is just some man to her, she looks up at him like he's got some way to grab the sun an the moon down for her. Even if they've only just met. And then, right on time exactly as he had thought he smells her before he hears a faint knock in the door. Shy and gentle, almost afraid the wood of the door might hurt her. He calls for her, his voice is like raw honey. Deep baritone alpha that he is. 
He sees her head just barely peak out into the very dimly lit room. He can't help but let a lob sided smirk fall on his face. Just seeing her wide eyes, worried that everything about this might just be wrong. He holds out his arm, resting it on the backrest of the sofa.
"C'mere darlin'." She slowly closes the door and like a little mouse crawling towards a piece of cheese she steps towards him. He's quick to grab onto her tiny little dress, pulling her closer to him until her thigh is pressed against the outside of his leg. 
She's already hot, he can feel it. He can't help but wonder when her next heat would be. Or if she's ever even had one, surrounded by her beta father all the time. And even if she had, he knows the sudden exposure to his smell is sure to bring it on soon enough. He gives it give or take a week, if he has to guess. 
He's leaning back, his legs wide spread like the man he is. He's already in his stage outfit, just like she saw him last time. Her hair is tangled and he's sure if he were to check, the label of her dress would read "14-15 years." His hands trail up and rest on her hip, just wanting to keep her here. Keep her close. He could do so much for her. Make her so happy. 
"I wanna show yah somthin', but yah gotta promise not to be mad, darlin'." Her face contorts and her head tilts to the side like a confused puppy. "Why would I get mad?" He lets out a slight sigh and then readjusts his pants. She's just too damn adorable for her own good. He wants to grab her into his arms and kiss her until she's squealing his name.  
But he doesn't. Instead he licks his lips and speaks again. "You'll see, baby, you'll see." She hides her bottom lip in her front two teeth making her look like a little bunny. "Now, you wanna go like this or you want me to find yah somethin' else?" Then she let's go of her bottom lip and pushes it out in a pout.
She looks down, fiddling with the hem. "What's wrong with this?" Again he just sort of sighs, looking at how the dress is full of holes and sits just barely below her round bottom. 
"Well, don't get me wrong, sweet thing, I really don't mind this look on yah. And I'll give the dress back to yah. But I gotta take care of yah, since your papa is away. An' I don't want men looking at this body of yers. Your Papa would be very upset." She bites her lip again, tearing away at the plump skin. He just can't help himself but take her chin and pull the lip out from he violent teeth. 
Then slowly she nods her head, her head tilts to the side. "You talked to my Papa?" She asks, at least she has some sense of defence. "Oh yeah," Elvis lies, taking her delicate little hands in his. So mini, just like everything else of her. Softly squishing the small pads right below each finger on her palm. Slowly tracing higher on her wrist. His fingertips letting out as much of his scent as he can. That intoxicating sugary smell fills his nostrils.  
"He said he wanted me to take care of yah, while he's busy." Her doe eyes follow his fingers, fully entranced. He can’t help but bring her wrist to his lips. Soft, so soft.  She doesn't even question when he talked to his father, or what he’s doing, just sort of nods.
"A-alright. Gotta listen to yah." A smile prickles his cheeks when she says that. "Yes, exactly, sweet pea, now you understand." And his grin grows even wider when she preens for him. 
Elvis smiles and nods, slowly standing up and walking to his closet. He gives her a once over, hell, he'll have to find some of 'Cilla's old clothes, give it a better scent that Priscilla’s overwhelming Iris smell that still lingers all these years. In any case, that might be all he can find that would fit her. He rummages through and suddenly takes a sharp breath when he finds it. A wide smile across his face as he holds it up for her to see.  
Frilly pink dress from when 'Cilla was your age. And the moment this little girl sees it, she gets sparkles in her eyes. She bounces on her feet and he can see her hands are eager to grab at it. "Yah like it, little one?" Too excited to say anything, she just rapidly nods. She’s holding herself back as much as she can. 
Elvis hands the dress to her, she's so so careful with it. And he knows his scent is all over it, he's likely rutted into that dress a few times. After he tries to comfort himself after the divorce. Savour all of the flowery smell he’s now all too glad to get rid of. So he just smiles when she raises the dress to her nose, taking soft breaths.
He sees the sweat bead on her forehead and she stutters, not understanding what's happening to her. He frowns, that shouldn’t be happening yet. 
He then points to the bathroom, "Go on, put it on." It's almost as if she jumps into the bathroom. A low wolf whistle escapes him when she steps out in the pink frilly dress. She blushes like a sweet little strawberry made just for him to feast on. Rip into with his sharp canines.  
"My, my, little thing...I'm gonna have to fight off the other men." He chuckles, his hands slowly finding her arms, his thumbs rubbing up and down. Somehow she becomes even pinker and it takes everything in Elvis not to lock her away right now.
"Now c'mere, let me brush yer hair." This time she doesn't ask questions, just nods and follows as he puts her down on the soft matted floor in front of a bed. He takes his brush and begins slowly brushing.  
"I never did catch your name, little one." He mumbels, his hands slowly parting your hair in different sections. Making sure to 'accidently' graze your scent gland. Making sure his leather scent will stay. He loves the way your whole body shivers. And the name you give him too, sweet as the a honeysuckle. But he'll likely still prefer a cute nickname, how else will he get you all fussy? "An' you're an omega, right?" 
Elvis is caught completely off guard when she tilts her head to the side. "What's that?" Bless the moon goddess above, Elvis shifts his hips forward. Almost resting his knee on your shoulder, loving the way you take deeper breaths.
He bites down on his lip and looks up at the mirrored ceiling. Trying to keep himself from taking her right now. And the damn suit is too tight again. "Yah don't know...?" She blushes and fiddles with the ruffles of her new dress.  
"Papa homeschooled me. I don't know much of much." She says, quite ashamed of this but Elvis can only smirk. "An' where did yah grow up?" Elvis sees the way she tries to remember the name. "Something Mem...mem..." He chuckles, continueing to brush the knots out of her hair. "Memphis?" She nods, but just barely as to not bother his progress. 
"Why, baby I'm from Memphis. How come I ain't never seen you b'fore?" Again she blushes, "Papa didn't let me out too often." That's an understatement, seeing how she's wearing children's clothes and doesn't even know what a second gender is. "You're killin' me here, baby." She seems terrified of the thought, "O-oh no, I don't want that-" 
He chuckles, placing his large hand on her shoulder. He lets her now brushed out hair fall down. So long, never been cut before. "Don't worry, little omega, I'll teach you." She leans her head back, looking up at him upside down. "Yah will?" She asks, clearly so very hopeful. He nods, caressing her soft round cheeks. "Of course, your Papa asked me too." He lies. 
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"Now... everyone... I have a very special guest with me today," Elvis has the mic in hand standing in front of his various band members that keep this show going. They all wait in anticipation for his next word. He moves the mic to the side and turns to you. His arm reaches out as he gently guides you in front of him. "C'mere, little one." 
You squeek, suddenly being at the attention of quite a few people. They all ooh and aah, looking over eachother at the tiny omega with the intoxicating smell. They can tell, Elvis has already scented as much of you as he could without you noticing. The little girl blushes even more when they all peak at her like some pet.
"Now, this little one tells me she likes dancin'." He says, the mic back up to his lips again. "Let's make some music she can dance to." He suggest to them and they holler and cheer at the thought. 
Again he whispers to you. "Don't get all shy in me now. Show me that dancin' you were talkin' 'bout." Elvis speaks, his hand still in your arm. Needing to be touching you somehow at all times. You just nod, taking a gulp already feeling shy. But something in his voice almost forces your body to comply. An overwhelming, demanding need to do whatever he says. 
"Alright, Glen, you gon' start us off." Elvis begins scatting into the microphone, letting the piano player follow his notes. "Get the bass up." They follow his command like he controls them.
"That's alright. That's alright. Any way you do~." The moment he begins singing it's like something comes over him. His legs and hips shaking as he feels the music. And as sure as hell, the same seems to happen to you. 
"Ah, ah, ah, ah," he repeats into the microphone, feeling the groove. "That's alright Mama, that's alright wit' you, that's alright Mama, any way you do~" He directs his words to the sweet little omega he found. Who is moving her hips like she was born to do so. And he's certain if his Mama were here to see it, she'd be crazy about you. 
He can't help but take your hand, spinning you so that your back is against his chest. He grabs your hips and presses it against his. "That's alright, that's alright now mama, any way you do," the way he grabs his southern drawl from the very depth of his stomach makes your gut clench and that stickiness forms around your thighs again. You bite down, really not wanting to ruin your new dress. 
"Now mama she done told me, papa told me too, son that gal' you foolin' with ain't no good for you." His hips jerk in movement with yours and he feels just about 20 years younger in that moment.
Your two bodies move like you've planned this whole thing beforehand. His large hand on your waist, gripping you as your hips move together. As if all his years of fighting for his right to dance on stage has paid off in the form of this cute little omega who moves like she'd been made for him. 
You feel his pudge rest just above the curve of your ass. Something hard pressing against your back and you chase this sort of giddy feeling forming in the bottom part of your body. Like adrenaline is forming in your stomach. And these butterflies that cause your thighs to press together. His smell, you've never smelt anything like it before. Leather, lemon and sandalwood.  
It all comes from this hot and heavy sweat that makes him look so shiny. It bewitches you and makes your vision hazy. Makes you want to press your face in his dripping hairy chest where before you'd cringe at the thought. The urge to lick it up like a dehydrated animal burns under in your belly. You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself. What’s happening? What are these strange thoughts you’re having? 
It’s as if he's burning down all your defences, making you feel things you've never felt before. See things you've never seen them before. Chase after things you never thought to chase before. What is this you're feeling? So hot, so so hot. Burning. His scent is burning you up and the only place that feels cool is where he touches you. 
Elvis notices it immediately. The way your eyes glaze over when you look at him, your breast perk up as if your body is trying to sell itself. And your sickly sweet fruit scent develops into that of intoxicating alcohol.
A sweet gin that you could so easily drink straight from the bottle. No need for tonic. He doesn’t even like alcohol but he needs to taste more. It makes his head swirl and he grips your waist tighter and bends down. 
He presses his nose down into your scent gland. His canines grow, he licks the crook of your neck. No omega or beta or even a weak alpha could notice the change so slightly. But he does, it's like he's gotten the manual to your body and has dedicated his life to studying it. "Come on, baby, give me just a few more hours. Can’t you wait just a bit longer?” 
Elvis begs and pleads and you’re entirely sure what for. Or if you can give him what he wants this time... 
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I don't know if I'm going to write a second part, but if I do, comment to be added to that taglist!
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fluffyfanficsonly · 10 months ago
Note
FORK, FORK, I BESEECH YOU WITH MY METAPHORICAL ELECTRIC SOCKET OF A BRAINROT.
If I may request, may it be an imagine with Twilight from Linked Universe spending time with his friend, the reader, before realizing how much he loves them?
Perhaps reader goes with him to collect some ingredients Wild needs for dinner that day. Foraging isn't so bad — and then the reader stumbles upon a flower field. Twilight freaks out a bit, noticing them missing, but finds their collection of plants and herbs set aside, reader laying down amongst the flowers.
I don't know, I'd be happy with whatever else you can think of or if you decide not to do this/let it stew. Thanks so much for hearing me out!!!
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BRUH I LOVE THIS SM WHAT.
I COOKED ON THIS
Twilight Realizing He’s In Love With You
Twilight x Gn!Reader
You and Twilight were foraging ingredients for Wild, who was on dinner duty that day. The two of you decided it would be better to split up, since it was late afternoon and the sun would be setting soon.
The two of you had been chatting as you looked for specific ingredients, laughing about some silly thing Wind had done that day. As the laughter subsided, Twilight had felt a sort of disappointment, not hearing your laugh. After processing the thought his face had turned a light pink, along with the tips of his pointed ears.
Twilight has been lost in thought. Standing up after picking some rather fresh Hylianshrooms, he looked around to find that you weren’t in your original spot from before.
He looked around in a panic, adrenaline kicking in, you couldn’t have wandered off too far right? What if a monster had gotten to you and he didn’t notice? What if-
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of such thoughts. He needed to focus, where would you have gone?
As he looked hastily around the area you two had been foraging in, he noticed a familiar sight, sighing in relief as he saw you picking flowers in a nearby open field. You looked so…peaceful, a smile gracing your stunning face. Twilight’s heart swelled in his chest as he strides towards you, smiling almost giddily.
Looking up from where you were picking flowers, your gaze softened as you saw Twilight, wincing inside slightly, hoping you wouldn’t get a lecture from him…again.
“There you are, starlight.” He said softly, your heart speeding up slightly from the nickname he had given you after your first night with the group, being so invested in the stars. You had woken up with a neck cramp the next day from looking up so much. “I thought you were in danger.” He lectured, hands on his hips.
“Sorry, I thought I had told you.” You responded sheepishly, Twilight sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You need to be more careful, we don’t know what exactly is out here.” He doted, looking at the large opening. Speckles of flower patches, the sun starting to set on the horizon.
As the two of you chatted, you both ended up sitting down in the field watching the sunset. As the two of you laughed and joked about old stories, Twilight looked over at you, studying your features. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, the orange sunlight outlining your face.
He finally realized what the strange thoughts and feelings he thought he was plagued with. The soft, fuzzy feeling his heart gave him everytime he looked in your direction. He was totally whipped for you, your smile, voice, everything. Everything about it was just so mesmerizing.
You had noticed Twilight had been quiet for a bit, looking over at him. “Is something wrong?” You questioned, tilting your head. Twilight just flashed you a soft, content smile. “It’s nothing.” He sighed, continuing to stare at you as you shrugged it off.
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fairy-verse · 4 months ago
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: ̗̀➛ The Weeping Horror
➻Warning: Violence and descriptions of body horror, cannibalism, and death
You head down into the depths of Error’s Mountain Halls. It is time to mine for minerals, for gems and treasures, but little have you cared for these things. It is the fun of it all you enjoy, you, a strong, healthy winter fairy.
Pretty you are, like the snow beneath starlight. Handsome you are, like the might of a snowstorm.
Your friends call and cheer for you to hurry up, and one of them calls your name, smiling softly as their wings flutter in delight. You’ve been courting each other, only lightly, to see how interested the other is, but you are beginning to believe they really like you.
They smell wonderful.
Cold is the stone that forms the base of Error’s Mountain Domain, yet never has it bit into you like it does others. You’re made of stronger stuff, with thicker bones and sturdier shoulders. You are so tall, mighty, and perfectly built for working in these mines.
You love the mines.
This is what you were born to do, to mine for metals and minerals that the smiths of your mountain home can use for their crafts. You can make some yourself, of course, every winter fairy can, but it is not your passion. Swinging a pickaxe and seeing stones fly is what you enjoy.
Using your strength is what you love to do.
Is that what made the roof collapse? You cannot recall, the memory is hazy on the best of days, but the dust had made it difficult to see and settle down, and your wings had ached as rocks had crashed upon them, but they hadn’t torn.
The wings of one of your friends had been torn completely off, but so had their arm, and their head. They’d turned to stardust before your eyes, and you’d watched, shocked still.
Your dearly beloved had come for you, weeping with fright but also relief at seeing you alive. You’d wept too, for them, for your friend, for you all that now were trapped down here.
It would be okay. The others would learn about it soon enough.
Help would come.
The cold does not bite into the bones of a winter fairy like it does for those of summer, but hunger will forever gnaw to make its presence known, and for hours—nay, days, or has it been weeks? You cannot remember, but you know you’re hungry.
You’re so hungry.
Your friends are hungry too, and they’ve grown distant as of late. It started small, some of them paced around the small cave, some flew to stretch their wings, and even your beloved began to huddle in a corner by themselves as they mumbled incoherently.
The hunger was bad.
The loneliness was worse.
You try to sit by your friends, but they move away. They can’t look you in the face. Their own faces are so dull, so dark, with sockets appearing sunken and hollow. They look so frightened, so sad, so forgotten, so hungry.
You don’t know why they recoil from you. They are your friends, and your beloved doesn’t wish to speak. They don’t look at you at all, so you weep all alone, crouched in a corner, nothing but cold rock on all sides.
Why does the room feel like it’s shrinking?
You awake to another morning or night, you cannot tell, but your awakening is strange. You blink but all is red, and you cannot see through your right eye. Your head is throbbing and something wet is trickling down your face.
Your friends are fighting over something; something round and mushy, and one manages to put it in his mouth before he starts to chew. He looks like a ravenous animal.
You blink and your beloved stands before you, but something is wrong. You try to speak but they lift their arms and strike you with something heavy. A rock, you think, and it hurts.
It hurts.
I t   h u r t s !
Your skull is struck and something cracks, and you realise that it’d already been cracked open, and you see your friends scramble towards you, hungry; hungry.
The pain and your hunger take hold and suddenly you stand up, grasping your beloved’s neck like it’s nothing but a twig, and you don’t recognise your own hand. It looks like a monstrous claw and as you tighten it your beloved goes limp as stardust begins to fall from their bones.
This time something cracked on them.
Your friends scramble for the dusting body, and your own horror of what you’ve done grows, and grows, and grows until you can no longer think. The pain in your skull increases and your bones ache and you lunge for your friends, and they scream.
There was so much screaming, and the walls continued to shrink.
You think you hear your own screams, but your friends scream louder, and they try to run, to fly, but they cannot get out. You cannot get out.
None of you can escape the horror of the cave-in, and now, you feed.
They called you a monster when they found you, crouched as you were, huddled over a particular pile of stardust, iridescent blood glittering across your broken skull, your face, your hands, your claws.
You nearly killed them all in your attempt to escape the mountain halls.
The rock is still moving closer, trying to trap you again.
You cannot breathe and you groan and roar horrific sounds as knights and warriors hold you down. So many had to hold you down, but it was the sight of Error which made you stop moving, pitiful whines and cries were the only thing you could allow to escape.
And he looked upon you with horror.
What monstrosity had taken place within his domain; what horror had grown from a fairy once so fair?
You wept, for yourself, for your friends, or for the love you’ve lost you cannot say, but you wept and begged for death. You begged your firstborn to release you from the horrors of your own mind, but your wish was not granted.
You needed to be punished for what you’ve done, and death was mercy, but Error took pity upon you; weeping as you were. And so, he said, “My mountain halls shall no longer be your home, but instead I grant you a lifelong service besides their shadows, though beneath the open sky, you shall stay, and there you will guard my kingdom against the wretched big folk; until your death.”
A terrible fate most will say, for what winter fairy lived outside Error’s Mountain Halls. None, save for those who’ve sworn their service to remain out of bounds, ever watchful of hunters who wish them and their kin harm. However, you thought it was both a mercy and a promise of eternal torture.
Mercy, for no longer would you be surrounded by rock, and never more shall you mine in caves for minerals, metals, and precious gems. Torture, for the screams of your friends remained in your mind, and the taste of their bones, their wings yet remained upon your tongue.
What's more, your injuries had left you permanently changed. You’ve grown taller, sturdier, and more dangerous, but your mind is shattered and only a few pieces remain. It is difficult to remember your past, your family…
You remember the screams of your friends, but not their faces, only the taste of them as you fed on their dusting bodies.
You remember the stardust of your lost love, but not their voice, their touch.
You cannot remember your name, but a horror of Error’s Mountain Halls you’ve become, and so, Horror shall be your new name.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Horror's theme: Willow's End - Gareth Coker
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what-have-i-unleashed · 2 months ago
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just a quick stop
finally, the full fic of weird fluffy kist that i have been agonizing over...
(cw: violence, minor character death, a bit spicy - lime on the citrus scale)
killer and dust have been trekking through the dark endless space for a while. killer has been chattering nonstop, filling the empty void with his voice, which dust appreciates. were he to be left floundering in the silence, he'd go crazy just like the many unfortunate souls that have stumbled into this non-place.
this "multiverse station" doesn't seem to have an attendant, only an eerie display of monster dust and decayed human bodies scattered sparsely throughout. yet, killer doesn't seem to be deterred a single bit. he's confidently announced that they would get out of here and back on track to their scheduled date in a mobfell universe.
"trust me, honeyboo," killer gestures with his hand waving around like an excited kid. he's leading dust with his other with his other hand nestled in dust's. the handhold is securely warm in contrast to the chilly void. "my intuition is never wrong. we're definitely on the right path."
your boyfriend is a dumbass, brother, papyrus sighs, floating next to dust.
"i know, bro," he murmurs, smirking into his scarf.
killer turns around, as if hearing what he said. "huh? have something to say, dusty?"
"nothing. guide us through this darkness, o wise guy," dust replies.
killer tilts his head, his signature grin widening. "sure thing, lover boy~"
they walk and walk and walk until dust sees something in the far distance - a white light in the black void. killer, still holding his hand, runs towards the light. dust stumbles as he's dragged along. as they get closer to the light, dust can see it is fragments of some sort of dilapidated train station. there sit three wooden benches in various stages of damage. next to one is a sign in an undecipherable language, along with an equally incomprehensible map, probably of the available pathways. a single bright lamp illuminates the area. as killer fawns over the map, dust stands back idly and makes a mistake looking up at the lamp post - he quickly turns away when he realizes there is a white soul trapped inside the lantern, pulsing slowly. fortunately, before dust can think about it, killer whistles at him and beckons him over.
when dust languidly makes over to killer, the hybrid-souled being speaks animatedly, "looks like we're at this stop point," he points to a faded star mark on the map. "if we want to make it to our destination, we can just go straight ahead from here."
killer traces a long-winded path to another symbol on the map. dust doesn't claim to know much about the jumble that is multiverse travel, so he has no choice but to trust his partner.
"but how can we travel to there?" he asks. "your token is out of juice."
killer gives him an impish grin. "we wait."
and so wait they do. the couple rests on the bench nearest to the station sign, with dust sitting in a corner and killer lounging indulgently, wrapping one arm behind dust's shoulders. bored out of his mind, dust pulls out his cigarette pack and puts one in his mouth. he searches for the lighter in his pockets, only to hear a click right next to him. turning to his left, he sees killer holding out the lighter with the flame on, an inviting wink flashing his face. amused, dust leans in to light the end of the cig, keeping his gaze on killer, whose cheshire smile doesn't wane the whole time. dust leans back and lets out a puff of smoke. he can feel killer's gaze on him.
"so, what else can you put in your mouth, bunny?"
dust glances at killer from the corner of his eye socket. the other skeleton is resting his chin on his closed fist, a mischievous grin on his face. dust looks him up and down before replying dryly.
"you're that bored?"
"maybe i am. maybe you should help me entertain myself."
dust scoffs lightly, but still indulges his boyfriend. "you want a fight then?"
"if that fight involves that mouth of yours, then yeah."
without further prompting, killer slides off his seat and crawls into dust's lap, kneeling over his slouching figure. from dust's point of view, the white light from the lamp washes over killer like a soft halo, his face obscured by the darkness, only somewhat lit by that red soul of his. the shape of the soul is wavering somewhere between an upside-down heart and a target, making dust consider killer carefully. extinguishing the cig on the handle of the bench, he slowly reaches his hand to cup killer's cheek.
"this okay?" he asks quietly, to which killer answers, nuzzling into his hand.
"yeah."
dust guides killer down towards him and nips the corner of his mouth, trailing small pecks along the jaw. he feels killer shiver and doubles his efforts, quickly moving his mouth down killer's neck - or at least the parts not covered by killer's turtleneck that is - while helping killer taking his jacket off his body. dust lets his teeth graze near the nape of killer's neck, smirking into the turtleneck when he feels killer grabbing onto his arms and pulling him closer. dust complies, snaking his hand up inside killer's shirt while teasing him with lazy kisses and half-licks around his mandible. killer's bones are scarred under dust's hand, but dust pays them no mind as he lightly caresses his lover's sternum.
impatient, killer grabs dust's skull with both hands and pulls him into a biting kiss, nipping and growling into it, which only stirs dust into doing the same. the wet, breathy sounds of them exploring each other's mouths echo in the empty void. killer lightly grinds on dust's lap, smiling as he feels dust jerk in surprise. the hooded skeleton only tightens his grip on killer's lower ribs, which prompts a quiet moan out of killer.
but there's something else too, a piercing whine coming out of somewhere.
dust is the first to pull back, his face flushing blue and his tone breathless as he whispers, "did you hear that?"
killer smirks at him, not looking as out of breath as his lover is. "might be our ticket out of here."
with that, they hide behind the rubble of the station, both of them eagerly watching whichever unfortunate soul has wandered in here. it's not long before they see a dog monster approach the bright lamp and survey the map, looking as confused as dust was previously. killer and dust look at each other, silently communicating with their eyes, before each of them move in the opposite direction, effectively circling their unknowing victim.
killer is fast, throwing a knife at the dog monster before dust can formulate a plan. the dog monster startles and howls as the knife penetrates into their thigh. they collapse, and dust, not wanting killer to steal his kill, quickly raises a barrage of bones piercing through their head, dusting them right away. it's all over under one minute.
"aw babe, really?" killer whines as dust feels the exp running through his body, making him shiver. "you gotta have to take those measly exp?"
dust shrugs. "payback for last time you stole my kill."
killer sticks out his tongue, unapologetic. "i still have next time. by the way, what's in their inventory?"
dust, as the winner of the short-lived battle, rustles through the dust pile to see some gold coins, a notebook of some kind, and finally a travel token. picking up the token, he checks the thing for any forgery then throws it at killer. killer catches the thing with one hand and inspects it with his softly lit eyelight.
"is it enough?" dust asks, relieved to see killer nod.
"should be enough for our trip. we can always take more from another."
"finally," dust breathes out, and killer chuckles, putting his arm around dust's shoulders.
"don't be so impatient, mon beau," he whispers near dust's skull. "after the dinner, we can continue what we did back there."
dust stares at killer, trying hard to stop the blush forming on his face. he mumbles angrily as both of them swiftly disappears from the station. truly, killer should be glad he's dust's boyfriend, else he would be forced to eat concrete right now.
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transzilla · 10 months ago
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Need a sub who is going to let me forcemasc him and kick his fucking ass like 80s rough trade style. Like some real neanderthal low IQ bdsm. Like I want to put him in the hospital. LMAO
You like a dom when it's one of your skinny fucking chainsmoking cis boys, like you honestly think you're hard because you let some skateboarder who can't lift a spare tire smack you around a little bit.
Your problem is that you're scared because you don't know what pain is. So believe me when I say I'm going to teach you what pain is.
I am literally on steroids and I do this shit for my own enjoyment.
Have you ever been hit in your liver? Like right on your ribs, a real body shot? It's like somebody lights you on fucking fire from the inside out and your whole body burns worse and worse by the millisecond. And you can taste it. Like I'm making you suck on some pennies. Lmao.
When your nose bleeds it will taste bad but you should be fine provided it doesn't obstruct your breathing. When your nose gets broken, that sinus fracture won't hurt right away from the adrenaline but as soon as it wears off it hurts like fucking hell and you can't touch it without it crunching or cracking around under your skin. You will feel nauseous and then fucking sick at the way your face breaks in ways you didn't know was possible, pieces of your inner cheekbone breaking and getting loose in your eye socket, the devil's own human anatomy lesson. When you get knocked out by getting punched in the face you think you're fine for the first half second but when the momentum catches up and your brain hits the other side of your skull in your head it's good night from there. And after you come to your face will be valentine's red and pink and swollen and nigh unrecognizable and from there is just going to turn so many pretty colors you'll look like a goddamn renaissance painting.
I'm going to make you scared that you're gonna die. And then you're gonna be scared that you might not.
You can complain, you can scream, you can beg, try to run, try to fight back, hold your hands up, there's honestly no point because you know you're going to take it and you know you like it because I say you will so you will. You're a faggot. There is something wrong with you. If you didn't come to me to try to fuck you would have just spent your time trying to run away from the first chucklefuck who knew how to fight and had a problem with you. You made it clear that this is how you accept love, so I will make you wear it on your face.
I am not going to afford you the ability to hide behind a mild, vanilla, effeminate or weak front. I am going to hurt you so badly your friends and your family and your significant other can't even bear to look at you without feeling your pain as badly as you felt it. They can't hold your perfect pretty girly face in their mind anymore, even after you eventually heal your nose has been bent into a new shape and the symmetry your teeth grew into has been rearranged into a haunted graveyard of broken and missing teeth like tombstones. And you can't exploit their safe conditional acceptance anymore. And you have to find a way to live as an ugly fucked up man when you can't get by looking pretty and doing nothing.
And idk maybe after I'll let you suck my dick a little bit.
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problems-exe · 4 months ago
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The Poem
The story of how Prim and Lu got together in the printerjamau
Wrote this a bit ago and decided it was about time I posted it. This is incredibly long, so I apologize for that, but for those interested in their story, I think it's worth the read.
Begins after the cut :]
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The sound of the wind breezing through the desolate building rooftop does nothing to drown out the rapid beating of their soul.
Prim finds themselves sitting, not alone, but with a close friend. Listening to her ramble about the latest au she visited and the small bakery from which she had bought treats. The bag sitting at her side was long emptied, its contents having been eaten hours ago. Prim has found themselves a lot less alone lately.
Despite their best efforts, it's hard for them to focus on Lu’s rambles, distracted by the intense feeling of something in the air. Something about today felt distantly off. It wasn't unusual for the two to meet like this, a gift cradled in one of the skeleton's hands. But Lu had seemed so.. anxious when she asked them to meet. It was odd. She had seemed… flustered? Almost? But that wouldn't make any sense-
“Prim?” Lu pulled them out of their daze with the utterance of their name, a concerned and nervous expression on her face.
“Sorry, that wasn't that interesting, was it? I got a bit carried away…” She states, averting Prim's eyelights as a deep blush settles on her face, accentuated by the deep orangish-pinkish hues of the sun setting before them.
‘She looks so beautiful like this,’ Prim shoves that thought as soon as it crosses their mind, nervous glitches appearing up their body as they force themselves to refocus on the conversation again.
“Nah. Long day. Just zoned out.” Prim replies after a pause. A lie. And they know it's one. Their day had been fine, a typical day as any. They're always honest with her; why are they being like this now?
“Oh,” She sounded surprised, as if she had been expecting Prim to call her boring.
“I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it? I've been rambling on for a while…” She continues, looking back at Prim with a crooked smile. The usual squint of her eye sockets not present. Something was wrong. She'd been acting noticeably off all evening; they should have picked up on the pieces sooner. Prim was the worst person for something like this.
“Are- are you feeling alright? You seem.. upset.” Prim slowly gets out, thinking through the words before settling on them. Lu looks a bit startled at the question.
“I'm, um, yeah! Yeah, I'm alright, just-” She fumbles with her words for a moment, blush on her face darkening, and Prim's expression turns into a concerned frown.
“I wrote you something.” She continues, digging around in her bag for a split second before retrieving a clean, white envelope. Clasped shut with a cat sticker, the words “For Prim” written in cursive on the back. She bashfully presents the letter to Prim, and they momentarily gawk at it, carefully taking it from her hand. Careful to not get ink on it.
“You mentioned wanting to read one of my poems sometime, so..” *She adverts her gaze, voice trailing off at the end as Prim looks over the parchment presented to them. Their soul pounds in their chest, and they scramble to find balance in its weight. They stare at the small envelope, feeling deeply touched by the gesture. They reach to carefully remove the cat sticker before Lu's hands stop them.
“Don't, um, don't read it here. Read it when you get home. It'd feel embarrassing to watch you read it in front of me.” She states, with a nervous laugh, gently pulling her hands away. Prim nods carefully after a moment, slowly and delicately moving to place the parchment in their bag, careful not to bend it.
“I better get going now,” Lu interjects after watching Prim's bag close. They look up at her, surprised.
“Already?” They respond, concern still evident in their face.
“Yeah, I've got a long day tomorrow. I'll see you in a few days?” She responds, sounding hopeful, pleading almost.
“Obviously,” Prim responds immediately, worry still swirling in their chest.
“Right. Of course.” She states, as if reassuring herself.
“I'll see you then.” She continues, a tight smile on her face. She gives a wave of goodbye before disappearing into a portal, leaving Prim sitting alone. Surprised by the abruptness of it all.
They clutch at the strap to their bag, the featherlight weight of the envelope feeling heavy at their side. They're worried about what they'll find written in there. It's hard to fathom Lu acting so.. afraid over one of her poems. She'd sounded excited at the idea of sharing some with them when Prim had brought it up. Maybe she got cold feet? Even then…
Well, no point in speculating. They'll find out when they get home.
Prim sits for a moment longer, taking in the sunset one last time, attempting to calm their racing thoughts. After feeling more composed, they reluctantly rise to their feet, a tinge of anxiety gnawing at their chest.
Navigating through the usual motions of leaving a get-together like this, they slide one of their feet along the asphalt, leaving a trail of ink behind. They place their foot back next to the other, standing in place as the ink pools around them.
They begin to sink into the puddle, dragged into darkness for a split second before emerging in the cozy living room of their apartment, ink swiftly vanishing beneath them.
Taking a cautious step toward the nearby couch, they gingerly take a seat, pausing to take a deep breath. They turn their attention to the coffee table before them, using their hand to slide a few objects to the side, making room for the letter nestled in their bag.
Pausing once more to collect themselves, they carefully unfasten their bag, delicately reaching inside to withdraw the envelope. They stare at it pensively, toying with the small sticker that sealed it, a tiny yet almost taunting obstacle. They smooth the envelope with a thumb, using one hand to slowly and meticulously peel off the sticker, careful not to rip the parchment
They feel lost in their own little world, with nothing but themselves and the letter existing within the tranquil room. Unfurling the page from the envelope, they place the latter on the couch alongside them before setting the sheet down on the cleared space of the coffee table.
Their eyelights graze over the page, reading its contents carefully. It reads,
Prim,
I've written this poem for you to convey the words I've struggled to say aloud. I’m sorry for not finding the courage to tell you in person. As an artist yourself, I'm sure you understand that sometimes it's easier to express our emotions through our work.
I understand if my feelings aren't mutual; I know this must have come as a shock to you.
I just hope this doesn't change anything between us.
Yours Always,
Lu
Below this, begins the poem,
On a canvas brimming with vibrant dreams,
Where colors mix and blend with gentle grace,
I've etched our story, yours and mine,
In shades, that time will embrace.
Your smile, a brush of vibrant hue,
Turns every moment into radiant light,
And in your eyes, I find the clues,
To ignite my soul with a beautiful sight.
Each day with you, a masterstroke,
A blend of joy and true elation,
Your laughter dispels the shadows,
Bestowing me a profound sensation.
From twilight’s glow to dawn’s first rays,
My love’s a spectrum rich and rare,
In every shade, in every phase,
You're a masterpiece beyond compare.
With every brush and every stroke,
I craft a world where we could be,
A place where dreams and hearts intertwine,
A canvas created for you and me.
So I ask now, with hopeful heart,
To step inside this vivid scene,
To share a life, to play a part,
Will you be my love, my dream?
Prim sits in stunned silence, reading and rereading the words, page blurring as they attempt to process what they've just read. Lu likes them. Actually likes them. It's hard to comprehend. Why would Lu choose someone like them when she could have anyone she wanted? Lu's affection felt like a dream, too surreal to grasp.
The confession weighs heavily on Prim's chest, butterflies fluttering in their stomach. They're at a loss for words, mind racing with questions and uncertainty, but also a strong feeling of excitement that they can't push down. Their face turns a deep shade of cyan, magenta, and yellow as the realization sinks in. Lu likes them, and they like her. The words of the poem echo in their mind, evoking a soft smile. Despite being alone they start to feel embarrassed by their reaction, prompting them to pull their scarf up to cover their blushing cheeks as they read through the page once again.
A panic settles in as Prim suddenly realizes that they need to respond to Lu's confession. What do they say to her? Nothing they could say would come even close to matching what she had written for them. They never had been the best at expressing their emotions. But… Lu needed that right now. She deserved a proper response from Prim.
No wonder she had been so nervous earlier, she had poured her heart out to the inky skeleton. She's probably feeling as anxious as Prim does right now, waiting for their response.
Well, better not keep her waiting any longer.
They cast a final gaze at the poem before rising to their feet, letting their scarf fall from their face. They secure their bag firmly over their shoulder, one of their hands clasped around its strap. With unwavering determination, they proceed, ignoring their nerves.
They begin the familiar routine of creating a portal, their foot swiping across the ground with a trail of ink following in its wake. The ink gathers at their feet, pulling them into the encompassing darkness.
Upon emerging, they find themselves standing outside The Star Sanses’ base, as well as Lu's home. The Omega Timeline bathes everything in the glow of starlight, casting the surrounding area in a celestial glow. After countless visits, the building's layout is etched into their memory, allowing them to easily locate Lu's room from the outside, even in the darkness.
After a brief walk, they arrive at Lu's window, gazing up to get a glance at it. They can see her curtains partially drawn, revealing a few of her plants resting on the windowsill. Their nerves intensify as they turn their attention to the tall tree adjacent to her window. Taking a deep nervous breath, they begin the familiar climb. Despite having done this many times before, the weight of the moment makes their movements feel awkward and slow, taking longer than usual to ascend the tree.
Eventually, they settle on a sturdy branch, close enough to reach Lu's window. They pause for a moment, trying to calm their anxiety before tentatively tapping on the window and leaning back, waiting for Lu to open it.
Moments later, they catch a glimpse of Lu's face peeking through the curtains, her eyelights meeting theirs. Despite the dim lighting, her deep blush is unmistakable. With a soft click, the window unlocks and slides open, revealing Lu's head as she peeks through to see them clearly.
“What are you doing out here?” She asks, her voice filled with unease, a nervous expression on her face.
“Me too,” Prim responds quickly, their cheeks darkening as the words leave their mouth, realizing that their statement didn't quite make sense.
“...What?” Lu asks after a pause, her head tilted slightly in confusion, a slight laugh heard in her tone.
"I mean— I read the poem. Me too. I, um, I feel the same,” Prim stammers, avoiding Lu's gaze, turning their face away and tugging their scarf over their cheeks once more.
“Oh,” She breathes, surprise evident in her voice. There's another moment of silence, broken only by the chirping of the crickets and the rustle of the wind.
The air feels tight as the silence sits between them, Prim's soul pounding anxiously in their chest. They're starting to wonder if it was a bad idea coming here. What if they misunderstood the situation? What if they just messed everything up?
Gently, Lu's hand takes hold of Prim's arm, snapping them out of their thoughts; they timidly look up, finding Lu's gentle smile waiting for them. Prim feels the blush on their face deepen and forces themselves to not look away. It's hard to gauge her expression as Prim searches her face, but she doesn't appear to be upset. Lu tugs on their arm, and Prim understands the unspoken message. With Lu's help, they slowly make their way through the window and into her bedroom, landing softly on her carpet.
The silence doesn't last much longer once Prim is inside. Lu's expression is soft and adoring as she delicately takes Prim's hands, their eyelights meeting in a moment of quiet connection.
“...Really?” She asks, her voice gentle and hopeful. The look on her face leaves Prim feeling flustered, wondering how they had gotten so lucky. Prim nods, struggling to find the words, their throat tightening. Lu's smile widens.
“I want to hear you say it out loud, though,” Lu playfully pouts, her affectionate expression coaxing the words out of Prim. They feel like they'd do anything, as long as she continued to look at them like that.
“Yeah. Yeah, I, uhm…I like you. I have for a while now,” Prim responds, their voice slightly shaky. Lu's smile grows impossibly wider, her eyelights fuzzy at the edges, glistening with tears of joy.
“Will you be my partner, Prim?” Lu asks, her voice filled with hope and excitement.
“I'd like that,” Prim replies easily, their face flushed, gazing back at Lu with the same adoration.
“Cool,” She responds with a wet giggle, using one hand to wipe happy tears from her eye sockets.
“Cool,” Prim repeats, with a similarly elated expression. They gently replace Lu's hand with theirs, wiping the tears from her face. The two of them stay like that for a moment, silent, until Lu speaks again.
“May I..?” She asks, face flushed, eyelights flicking down to their mouth. Prim nods, and Lu leans in.
Yeah, coming here had been the right decision after all.
39 notes · View notes
mari-writes · 4 months ago
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🎂🎈
Akaashi organizes a surprise party for Bokuto's 18th birthday. He enlists the entire team, assigning them each to a specific task—who brings the decorations, the cake, etc. He keeps lists in the weeks leading up to it, updating everyone on a secret group chat. 
He is adamant that the party has to be PERFECT.
The third years especially are happy to oblige—they find it adorable how serious Akaashi is about everything. They calm him down when something minor goes wrong, reminding him that Bokuto will love it no matter what.
The day arrives. Komi delays Bokuto since they share a final period class, while the rest of the team hurriedly sets up. Akaashi sternly (but still politely) barks orders as he scurries around with his clipboard.
“They’re coming!” Onaga whisper-shouts from his place at the door. Akaashi gasps, and then everyone takes their places, collectively holding their breath. 
Komi hops into the gym with a grin on his face. Bokuto is chattering away behind him, but the boy freezes in the doorway when he sees—
“Surprise!”
Bokuto’s eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, and then he’s beaming, letting out a delighted laugh.
The party goes off without a hitch. The food is delicious, the music fun and the presents thoughtful. Akaashi had made sure to leave up the volleyball net, knowing Bokuto would still want to play at least a little bit.
“Thanks so much you guys,” he smiles as they clean up. “This was the best birthday ever!”
Konoha shrugs. “Thank Akaashi, dude. He basically planned everything.” He smirks as Bokuto’s jaw drops open.
“Really?” He glances at Akaashi, who flinches slightly as if caught. “Did you, ‘kaashi?’”
The younger boy nods shyly. “I’m glad you had fun, Bokuto-san.”
Bokuto surges forward, catching Akaashi in a quick yet crushing hug. When they part, Bokuto relishes in how the boy’s sharp cheekbones are flushed red. It’s… oddly satisfying to see.
“Happy birthday,” Akaashi mumbles softly, and Bokuto doesn’t know why he’s suddenly feeling so warm all over.
He’s pretty damn lucky, isn’t he? He’s got the best teammate, the best setter, the best friend in the world! The fact Akaashi did all of this for him is amazing.
Actually, Akaashi does A LOT for him. Bokuto’s not oblivious to how attentive the younger boy is to him. No one else stays with him every day for extra practice, or helps him study every week. Nobody else seems so dedicated to keeping Bokuto in tip-top shape.
And now this.
Maybe Bokuto should start helping Akaashi more. And maybe invite him out to do fun things—things that have nothing to do with school or club. 
He should definitely start repaying the favor…
// Thanks for reading! I know it’s not my best, it’s really sappy and simplistic but I hope you enjoyed. This might have a 2nd part later this year! Keep your eyes peeled around the start of December lol
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actiniumwrites · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓
synopsis: in which you play the bandit in zosimos’ play, aka kaeya’s counterpart. when an unscripted moment occurs between the two of you on stage, you can’t help but realize your feelings for him are all but lost
characters: kaeya x gn!reader
wc: 1.1k
warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, like one cuss word, takes place in the 3.8 summer event, this was entirely written at midnight last night in one setting (so it might be ass)
notes: i absolutely loved this event and had to write something for kaeya! this definitely could have been a small scene in a bigger fic, but i feel like it worked as a drabble. also, i may or may not have a really long fic being written for him 👀 apologies if you’re reading this in the future and didn’t get to play the event and have zero clue what’s going on 😭
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Damn these lights!
A subtle burning on both corners of either of your eyes was all you could focus on. The orange was coming from the left, while the blue was coming from the right. The intensity of each of them guaranteed you a painful headache later — a thought you had to send away before you groaned, an action that was certainly not within the script.
The sides of your lips were pulling downward against your will and your foot was starting to slip just a tad bit to the side. Any longer and you felt like you were going to collapse. Kaeya was taking too long to recite his lines, going all in with the theatrics and intense emotions. His hands waved dramatically in the air and his voice was booming, even though the crowd consisted entirely of your friends. If he could just hurry up and walk over to where you were stuck posing upright, then you could finally act out the final scene of Zosimos’ play and finish fixing the domain like you were supposed to be doing.
Admittedly, you had no intention of joining the play when Zosimos first announced he needed help with it. In fact, the script originally didn’t even include your character, The Bandit. It wasn’t until Zosimos came rushing out of his writing room complaining something was wrong with the script that he had somehow found a way to force you into the whole ordeal.
“Me?!” Your eyes widened when he pointed in your general direction. Honestly, you were barely even paying attention to the guy. So when he suddenly started pointing fingers and incoherently mumbling ideas about a new character, you were certainly startled.
“Yes! You!” he beamed with excitement and started shuffling around for a paper and pen, “I was just observing you and your boyfriend here, and suddenly I got the idea! You’ll be the thief’s sidekick: the bandit who he saved from a life of crime. Your real life dynamic is nothing but perfect for the role!”
Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when you realized what he said, “Huh? Hey, wait! Kaeya isn’t my—!”
He rushed off before you could correct him, laughing to himself and eagerly looking for some ink to adjust his script. Whether he heard you or not, it was obvious the playwright didn’t care. His mind was made up on the idea and you knew that there was no changing a mind like his.
Now you were stuck in this predicament. Eyes burning, leg cramping, and desperately wanting to go home to save yourself from the embarrassment of having zero acting skills. That and the fact that Kaeya and the others couldn’t help but tease you to no end after Zosimos’ assumption.
“I’m back!” Kaeya said as he walked over to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you returned to acting like your character. A bright smile pulled at the sides of your lips when you saw the prop in his hands. You had to stop yourself from squinting at it and ruining the scene. While your character was supposed to be happy, you were certainly not.
Kaeya moved slightly in front of you, shielding you from some of the harsh lights. The orange one still caught your side, lighting you as if you were standing amidst a beautiful sunset. And star props hanging above the stage gently reflected across your irises, almost like you had stars in your eyes. You looked up at your counterpart and breathed out as a your character slowly realized what was going on, “You…you got it? The darkness is finally over?”
Kaeya held his breath as he looked at you, stunned at the way you looked in all the stage lights and the beautifully sewn costume Idyia had tailored to you. His hands cupped themselves around yours and he pulled you in closer, “That’s right…we can finally live together in peace.”
His blue eyes were a much gentler sight to look at, contrasting the intense lights all around you. Kaeya leaned in gently, ready to pose for the final scene as Zosimos prepared to give his final narration and end the play.
When a few seconds passed and nothing was being said, your head tilted slightly past his shoulder so you could peer into the tiny crowd and figure out what was going on. All of them were sitting on the edge of their seats, enthralled by the sight in front of them, eagerly anticipating what was coming next — even the ever so apathetic Eula seemed to be waiting carefully. You quietly clear your throat, hoping the playwright would hear, but it seemed he too couldn’t tear his eyes away. Kaeya’s hand gently left one of your hands and reached up to meet your cheek, cupping it slightly and pulling you in.
“Wait, this wasn’t part of the script—” you hurriedly whisper and quickly glance between him and the crowd, but Kaeya cuts you off when his lips meet yours. He leans you back slightly, but pulls you in with the hand on the lower part of your back. It’s desperate, messy, but over far too quickly for your liking. He’s smiling into the kiss and it doesn’t leave his face when he pulls away and glances into your eyes for a split second before turning to the crowd. Before you know it, he’s grabbing onto your hand and the two of you are bowing together. With wide eyes and a flushed face, you turn to look at the crowd as well.
Collei is smiling brightly next to Eula who smiled a bit herself, but not before turning away so no one could see. Paimon is cheering loudly, but it’s not enough to drown out Zosimos who’s clapping profusely. You swear you see some tears fall out of his eyes as well. And soon enough, Kokomi, Aether, and Klee are next to you, bowing alongside the two of you.
You turn to Kaeya in the midst of it all, only to find him already looking at you with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen on his face. The lights are shining just as brightly as they were in your eyes, although you’re sure he looks a thousand times better than you do. His hand squeezes yours and he winks before turning back to the audience.
Suddenly the years you spent pining after your best friend come to a close as you finally realize: Kaeya had liked you all along and this was his grand way of finally showing it to you.
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bwabys-scenarios · 1 year ago
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Fixer Upper
Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader
Part 4
part 3
part 5
taglist: @fabitheraven @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lemonslut @homeinmydreams @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter
if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)
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Red.
It was all Kurapika could see.
The red clothing his childhood wore, the red eyes of his brethren when they were angry…
And the crimson red of their blood staining his childhood home.
They stared up at him with their empty eye sockets, bloody tears running down their cheeks.
“Why?”
Kurapika turned slowly, his eyes wide and terrified as they met the empty sockets of his dearest friend.
“Why do you get to become an adult?”
“Kurapika? You have to wake up…”
He ignored the voice calling out to him, running towards his friend.
“Pairo, please, we have to get you to a doctor. I’m so glad you’re alive. Everyone else-“
When he reached out to grab his friend’s arm, it withered away until only bones were left.
“Answer me, Kurapika.”
The blonde stared at his friends arm, his breath hitching.
“Why were you the only one to survive?”
“Kurapika!”
The blonde shot up, gasping for breath. His eyes flitted across the room, seeing most of his friends still asleep.
Who woke him up, then?
“Shh, Kurapika, it’s alright. You were having a bad dream.”
He turned to see (Name) behind him. Her hair was in disarray from sleep, and… he was lying between her legs.
Kurapika threw himself back, scrambling to the other side of the couch.
“Is something wrong?”
The blonde tried to make sense of why he’d ended up where he did. He’d been tired, leaned on her shoulder and…
‘Oh. She must of moved me to her lap so she could sleep too.’
He glanced at the girl. She was rubbing her neck, wincing.
She’d slept in an uncomfortable position so he’d be able to rest comfortably.
Kurapika sighed, trying to relax.
“I… I apologize. It was just a bit surprising to be so close to you when I first woke up.”
(Name) nodded, stretching before standing up.
“Well, it’s about 6 am. You gonna sleep a little longer?”
He pushed his hair out of his face, noticing it was wet with sweat.
“I don’t think I’d be able to.”
(Name) nodded. “I understand. I’m going to get started on breakfast, I can turn something on the TV to distract you if you’d like?”
“Please.”
She turned the TV onto a random channel before walking to the kitchen.
Around 30 minutes later, the others had woken up and were lazing around the living room.
“(Name), when’s breakfast going to be ready? I’m starving.”
Killua appeared behind her, peaking over her shoulder.
“Hey, careful. It’s hot.”
She pushed him back a little, the white haired boy swatting at her hands.
“(Naaamee)! Answer!”
She huffed. “About five minutes. Go get Gon and set the table.”
Killua rolled his eyes and scurried off, pulling Gon off the pallet.
“Alright, it’s ready. Come and make your plates!
——————
After a short breakfast, Killua and Gon left to play in a nearby creek, leaving Leorio, Kurapika, and (Name) to chat.
“So… how have you been doing, Kurapika?”
The blonde shrugged. “Alright.”
“Any luck with finding the scarlet eyes?”
“Sometimes.”
“Gotten any new information?”
“Not yet.”
Leorio groaned and leaned against (Name)’s shoulder. “Come on, give us something. Any more details?”
Kurapika sighed. “No, nothing that would interest you.”
(Name) pushed Leorio off her shoulder. “That’s alright. I’m just happy you’re here right now.”
Kurapika looked to the ground. “I’m… I’m glad I’m here too. It’s been nice.”
It was the first time in a while Kurapika had said his honest feelings.
“Really? Hehe…”
She squeezed his hand. “You can be so cute sometimes, you know?”
Before Kurapika could respond, he felt his pocket vibrate.
“Just a moment, I have to respond to this.”
Kurapika hurried out of the room, leaving Leorio and (Name) to stare at each other.
“It’s definitely his girlfriend-“
(Name) smacked his shoulder. “It’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“He blushes when I call him pretty and nearly died when he woke up sleeping against me. He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
Leorio hummed.
‘Woke up against her? And he was worried I was going to be a perv…’
Kurapika closed the door to his bedroom as he unloved his phone.
A text appeared on his screen, from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: Melody said you needed information on the scarlet eyes?
His breath hitched, the scarlet returning to his eyes.
Kurapika: Yes. What information do you have?
Kurapika only had to wait a few minutes for a response.
Unknown: can’t talk over text. Meet me in York New.
Before completely reading the message, Kurapika grabbed his satchel and stuffed his clothing into it, along with his weapon and wallet.
He was out of his bedroom door and halfway through the living room before he was stopped by Leorio.
“Hey, where the hell are you going in such a rush?”
“York New. An informant wants to meet there to exchange information on the scarlet eyes.”
(Name) stood up, walking over slowly. “You’re leaving right now? But you’ve only been here a few days…”
Kurapika was glad he was facing the opposite direction, because he could hear the sadness in her voice. He knew if he turned to look at her, he would have trouble leaving.
“I know, and… I’m sorry, but-“
“Your mission comes first. I know.”
Hearing the words he’d spat in her face come out of her mouth stung, but they were the truth. Kurapika bit his lip.
“I’ll…”
Kurapika couldn’t bring himself to promise he’d keep in touch. He knew the minute he was out the door, he’d try his best to forget her again.
It was easier that way. If she didn’t exist to him, he wouldn’t have to feel guilty leaving her behind.
“Goodbye.”
With that, Kurapika left. Leorio attempted to follow after him, but was stopped by (Name)’s hand grabbing his sleeve.
She simply shook her head.
“He won’t listen.”
Leorio knew she was right.
——————
“So he just left? Again? Total Ging move.”
Killua and Gon had returned with little silver fish they’d collected in bags to a gloomy atmosphere.
“I mean, that’s my dad, but he’s not wrong.”
Leorio dropped the bag of fish into one of the numerous fish tanks so they could acclimate.
“Be nice. I’m sure after spending time with us he’ll… TRY to keep contact.” (Name) said, making her another sandwich for the boys to take with them to the creek.
“With Leorio, maybe, but not with you.”
Killua instantly regretted his words when (Name)’s lip quivered ever so slightly. It wasn’t something most people would notice, but acts living with her for two years he’d become an expert in detecting her moods.
“(Name), I-“
She waved him off. “It’s fine. You’re right, I’ve accepted that. As long as I know he’s safe, it doesn’t matter if he talks to me.”
She was lying, and they all knew it.
“Why don’t we talk about something else? The carnival is still in town, why don’t we go again? This time you won’t get thrown up on.”
She sighed. “I don’t feel like it today. Maybe some other time…”
‘She usually loves going out with us. This is affecting her more than I thought…’
Leorio watched her from his seat by the counter.
“Let’s stay in then. I can sleep over again and-“
A knock on the door caused the black haired man to jump. Killua rose from his seat, calling out that he was coming.
When the white haired boy answered the door, the person behind it made him scowl.
He instantly closed the door and locked it, strolling away like nothing happened.
“Who was it?”
“No one.”
(Name) placed her hands on her hips. “I can sense someone behind the door, you know.”
“No one important.”
She huffed, wiping her wet hands on her apron before storming to the door and unlocking.
“… Kurapika?”
The blonde stood behind the door, looking small.
“…hello.”
He didn’t meet her eyes, staring at his feet as the other three joined her.
“Did you forget something? I can go grab i-“
“No. I…”
Killua groaned. “Oh my god, spit it out already.”
‘He just started talking.’ (Name) thought, pushing the little gremlin away.
“The informant can’t meet for… another three weeks.”
Leorio raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And… I have nowhere to stay.”
“Yeah you don’t.”
Killua moved to slam the door closed, but was stopped with a look from (Name).
“Come on in. Lunch is almost ready.”
Kurapika glanced between Leorio and Killua, the first moving out of his way with a sigh, and the second staring at him with the intensity of a crazed chihuahua.
(Name) grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, Gon jumping up from the bean bag chair excitedly.
“Kurapika, you’re back! Did you finish your mission already?”
“Gon. His mission was in York New.”
“… and?”
“Oh my god.”
(Name) laughed. “Gon, York New is a few hours away. It would be physically impossible for him to finish it that fast.”
“Ohhh. Okay.”
He still didn’t completely understand.
Killua and Gon sat in the living room as they munched on their sandwiches and chips.
Leorio was kind enough not to bring up the fact he’d just left, sitting down at the kitchen table.
“(Name) what are our plans for today?”
Kurapika ate his sandwich in silence.
“Mmm, nothing. We might go out for dinner later because I’m tired of cooking, but that’s all I can think of.”
Killua watched as (Name)’s mood slowly improved with Kurapika’s presence. It almost pissed him off.
“(Name), Gon ripped his shirt again.”
She groaned. “Again? That’s the last one Mito sent… I’ll have to go shopping in the morning…”
Kurapika perked up, dropping his sandwich onto his plate. “I’ll go with you.”
Killua scowled. “No, I will. Why would you go with her?”
Kurapika frowned. “Because it’s not safe for a woman to be out in a city like this.”
“Okay, sexist, but I’m the one that goes with her. And it’s for Gon’s shirt.”
‘Sexist? Was that sexist?’
(Name) laughed. “Aww, Killua it’s fine. You have chores you need to catch up on anyways. You can come with me, Kurapika.”
“But-“
(Name) held up her hand. “No buts. Your room is filthy, and if I see another creature crawling out of it in the dead of night I will be banning chocolate robots from this house.”
Killua crossed his arms over his chest. “It was only two times…”
“One is more than enough. How the hell did you even catch a baby alligator? It bit me!!”
‘Did she say alligator? No I had to have heard wrong…’
Kurapika glanced between the two, becoming more concerned by the second.
“It was a CROCODILE. There’s a huge difference.”
(Name) smacked a hand over her forehead. “It was three feet long. I don’t care what it was, Gon.”
“You should. Crocodiles are scarier.”
Killua leaned closer to whisper into Gon’s ear. “You are NOT helping the situation at all.”
Leorio sipped on a cup of coffee. “Where did you even get it?”
“The zoo.”
“Now that’s some information you didn’t tell me last time.”
The two boys glanced at each other before sprinting out the door.
“See ya later, bye (Name)!”
Leorio placed his cup down, picking up the newspaper. “Free birth control.”
(Name) plopped down next to him. “Ain’t that right. I have enough on my hands with those two, and they aren’t even mine.”
Leorio shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard Gon call you mom at least once.”
Kurapika perked up at that. “Mom?”
“Yes?”
The two stared at each other for moment, the words sinking in slowly.
“… I’m going to go take a nap.”
“That’s a good idea.”
The two watched as (Name) stumbled up the stairs.
“She’s so mommy material.”
Kurapika smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Shut up.”
———————
Killua and Gon snuck in an hour later, only relaxing when they were informed (Name) had fallen asleep.
“Ah, good. She was put into an uncomfortable sleeping situation last night.”
Killua glanced at Kurapika when he said this, a disdainful tone to his voice.
“… it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Sure. I’m sure you won’t leave her alone tomorrow on purpose either.”
Kurapika stood up, approaching the boy.
“What is your issue?”
“My issue is you. Why are you even here?”
Kurapika rolled his eyes. “It’s safe and convenient. That’s why I’m here.”
Gon frowned. “You’re not here for (Name)?”
The other three quieted down. There was a lot of things Gon didn’t know about the current situation.
“… I’m here to wait for my next mission. Being able to spend time with you all is just one of the… perks?”
Gon nodded slowly. “I see. Well… I’m glad you’re here. I know (Name) is happy you’re back as well.”
The blonde couldn’t meet his young friend’s eyes. “I… I’m glad she’s happy.”
That was enough to make Gon smile.
A few hours passed by before Killua was tasked with waking (Name) up so they could decide what to do for dinner.
“(Name)? Hey, I’m opening your door.”
When he did, he barely held back a laugh.
She was curled up in her blanket, looking like a sleeping caterpillar. He pulled out his phone to take s picture before shaking her shoulder.
“Wake up. We’re hungry, and Gon won’t stop threatening to chew on the table.”
She shot awake. “He what? Oh god not again!”
(Name) leapt out of bed, having to be steadied by Killua.
“Woah, don’t fall. Leorio’s a big baby when you get injured.”
“Ah, sorry. Thanks. I’ll be down in 5 minutes, tell everyone to throw on something decent.”
“… but Gon doesn’t-“
“Killua, let him borrow one of your shirts.”
He grumbled on the way down the stairs.
‘If he tears the shirts (Name) got me I’m going to drown him. Like she did to Ging.’
(Name) came running down the stairs in a simple sundress, wearing sandals and a headband to match.
“Okay, to the car. Before Gon starts on the chairs!”
They all piled into her car. Kurapika peeled out the window as (Name) followed suit.
‘Would he… would he really chew on the furniture?’
Gon pulled a piece of wood from his teeth.
‘He would.’
——————
“Why did we have to dress up to eat at Wendy’s?”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re not eating at Wendy’s, we’re just parking here. The restaurant we’re going to doesn’t have free parking.”
Kurapika watched as she held both of the boys hands as they crossed the street.
“I’m not baby, (Name).”
“Yeah but you’re 5’2. Have you seen the kind of trucks they drive around here? You’d be a Killua pancake.”
She pulled them to the opposite side of the road.
Leorio looped his arm with her’s. “And you’re not that much taller. Here, let me-“
Kurapika kicked the back of his legs, causing Leorio to fall.
“Let me.”
He walked beside (Name), making sure he was near Gon and not Killua.
Kurapika didn’t think he would push him into traffic, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Leorio, don’t fall too far behind.” Killua called, waving at him.
Gon turned to watch him as he stumbled to his feet,
“What is this, the Hunter Exam? Ugh…”
He followed behind the four, his suitcase dangling by his knees.
Killua blinked his eyes, staring up at the sign above them.
“Oh.”
Gon looked up as well. “Is… is that Chuck E. Cheese?”
(Name) nodded. “The rat casino, in all its glory.”
She patted their backs. “Go ahead. I put some money in Gon’s backpack. We’ll be back in an hour.”
She barely got to finish her sentence before Gon and Killua raced off.
“Rat casino? Is it gambling… for children?”
Kurapika stared at the establishment. He’d never seen such a thing, but judging from the smell of greasy pizza, smelly shoes, and vomit, he assumed it wasn’t somewhere he wanted to be.
“Basically. They’ve been begging to come for the past few days. It’s just chaotic enough in there to balance out their need for destruction.”
Leorio nodded. “Okay, but where are we going to eat?”
(Name) pointed next to the Chuck E. Cheese.
“There’s a small burger joint I like to go to while the kids have fun. It’s nothing fancy, but…”
She twirled around in her dress. “Going out with my handsome friends is enough reason to dress up.”
The two followed behind her, both hiding a small blush that had taken over their cheeks.
——————
The three ordered their food before sitting at a small booth. (Name) and Kurapika sat on one side, Leorio on the other.
“Why do you always get to sit beside (Name)?”
“Because you can’t be trusted around women.”
(Name) poked her lip out in a pout. “I trust Leorio. We’ve slept in the same bed and he didn’t try anything.”
“E-excuse me?”
Leorio gave him a smug look. “Yeah, I remember that. Have you and Kurapika slept in the same bed?”
“Does the couch count?”
Kurapika groaned as he slapped a hand over his red face.
“Well he was between your legs with his head on your stomach, so who’s really the-“
“Order for table 3!”
Kurapika stood up and rushed to the counter. “I’ll get it!”
(Name) smacked Leorio over the top of his head. “Don’t tease him. He’s already embarrassed enough that he had to come back after leaving.”
Leorio whined, holding his head. “Ouch, if you’re going to hit me at least do it when-“
She smacked him again, this time laughing. “Oh shut up.”
Kurapika watched from a distance away, his grip on the platter holding their order tightening.
‘They’re awfully close. Irritatingly so.’
He placed the tray down, throwing Leorio’s food before handing (Name) hers gently.
“Woah, you nearly spilled my fries!”
Leorio held the carton of fries to his chest, offended.
“Maybe you should focus on catching your food and not flirting.”
The two glanced at each other before looking to Kurapika.
“I wouldn’t call that flirting. This is flirting.”
He made kissy face at (Name) fluttering his eyelashes.
“(Name), please. Would you make me the happiest man on earth and give me a little kiss?”
She stared at him. “I hate you.”
“That wasn’t what you were saying when-“
“When nothing. Ya goof.”
She reached over to pinch his cheek. “Now stop before you embarrass me.”
Even this small display of affection caused a seed of jealousy to sprout in Kurapika’s heart. He would figure out what he was feeling in that moment for a while, all he knew was that he didn’t like the way Leorio was looking at her.
Wordlessly, Kurapika scooted closer to (Name), his eyes locked on Leorio’s. The man raised an eyebrow at this, but didn’t say anything.
Kurapika placed a single finger on her hand that rested on the table. It was his pinky that he’d stretched out to touch her’s.
If she’d noticed it, she didn’t say anything. She ate her food and chatted with Leorio, trying to bring Kurapika into the conversation.
He’d attempt to participate, but often found himself preferring to listen to her.
“And then this bitch tried to stab me!! Over an ugly Christmas sweater! Can you believe that Kurapika?”
He thought back to the time he’d almost crankily killed someone in a grocery store for taking the last bag of cinnamon pecans.
“Yes. I can.”
(Name) finished the last bite of her burger, turning to Kurapika with something on her face.
“Thank you, because Killua wouldn’t believe me, he said-“
Kurapika reaches out and grabbed her chin, keeping her still.
“What are you-“
He wiped her face with a napkin, causing her to close her eyes. He wasn’t exactly gentle, rubbing it all over her face until he felt he was done.
“You had something on your face.”
He pulled back the paper towel to see her pouting lips. “You could have just told me.”
Leorio snickered next to them. “Nah, he wanted to hold your face close t-“
Kurapika threw the balled up napkin at the black haired man.
“Ew, Kurapika!”
He dodged the napkin, scowling at the blonde.
The three finished their food, still having 15 minutes before they were supposed to meet up with Gon and Killua.
“Mmm, let’s go grab the car. Then when we pick them up we can grab ice cream on the way home.”
“Sounds like a plan, (Name).”
Kurapika stayed by (Name)‘s side as they strolled through the city. It was dark out, the only light being the street lamps and stars.
(Name) yawned. She was still sleepy even after her 2 hour nap.
“Tired?”
She nodded at the blonde. “A little. It’s been a long day.”
He looked away, a frown pulling at his lips. Him leaving suddenly had saddened her, that much he could tell.
Kurapika didn’t want her to be sad, but it was better than her ending up dead. When they’d met up in York New, she’d nearly gotten herself killed trying to help him.
He wouldn’t take his chances again.
“I see…”
He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was swaying slightly, only enough for a trained eye to notice.
“Kurapika, she’s going to-“
(Name) suddenly fell forward, being caught by the blonde before she could hit the ground.
Leorio rushed forward, immediately checking her pulse before sighing.
“She’s alright, I think she just fell asleep.”
‘Asleep? How tired was she?’
Kurapika lifted her into his arms bridal style, taking a closer look at her face.
There were dark circles under her eyes. He remembered she’d stayed up the night he left, but she’d had a full night of sleep the night before… right?
“She hasn’t slept well the last three days. The night before the last she spent organizing our trip to the carnival and buying tickets online so it would be cheaper. She’s only had a few hours of sleep.”
Leorio glanced at Kurapika as he walked beside the blonde. “Ice cream will have to wait for another day. She needs to get home.”
Kurapika brushed a piece of hair from her face, frowning. “Does she usually have trouble sleeping?”
Leorio shrugged. “Only when she’s worried about something.”
The blonde winced. He hadn’t exactly been on his best behavior the past few days,
“I see…”
Leorio fished her keys from her backpack and unlocked the door to her car. Kurapika say her in the passenger seat and buckled her in.
“I’ll drive.”
Kurapika only nodded in response and climbed in the back.
——————
They arrived at Chuck E. Cheese.
“Kurapika, you go in and get the boys. I’ll watch over (Name).”
Kurapika frowned. “Wouldn’t it be better if I watch her? I know her… better…”
‘Wait, no I don’t. Not anymore…’
Leorio noticed his friends face turn into a saddened expression.
“I’m a doctor, and I’ve been friends with her for nearly three years now. I’ve got her. Promise “
Oh. Yeah. Kurapika had been absent for two years. In that time, the others had grown much closer, so of course Leorio would be the better pick.
He glanced at (Name)’s sleeping form one last time before exiting the car.
Kurapika didn’t know what to expect when he stepped into the Chuck E. Cheese, but it wasn’t the complete chaos he was met with.
Children ran around screaming, occasionally crashing into each other. The smell of greasy pizza, vomit, and depression permeated the air, causing the blonde to wince.
He stepped in, looking around.
“Hello Ma’am, how can I help you?”
Kurapika ignored being misgendered yet again. “I’m looking for… my children. They’re…”
He thought for a moment. “Maybe a little over 5’0? One with white hair, one with-“
The employee stopped him. “White hair? Oh, you mean that troublemaker. We have him detained in the back.”
‘Oh dear. The rat casino doesn’t play around.’
Kurapika followed the employee through the establishment, trying not to think about what was sticking to his shoes as he walked.
“They’re in here. I don’t know how they thought tearing of Chucky’s head and wearing as a trophy was okay behavior, but the little b- guy still won’t let it go.”
Killua sat huddled up in a corner while Gon attempted to take the severed head away from him.
“Come on, they said if we gave it back they wouldn’t press ch- oh Kurapika!”
Killua immediately dropped the head. “Where’s (Name)?”
It’s like he instantly knew something was off. He looked behind Kurapika, frowning up at the blonde.
“They didn’t have any other options but to send you, huh?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Come on, we have to go.”
The two followed behind him, Killua only complaining a little.
“I think you’d make a good replacement for Chucky, Kurapika.”
It was meant as compliment, but Kurapika scowled down at Gon. “… thanks?”
“Yeah because you’re a coward. Like a rat.”
“No, it’s because he’s nice! And I love Chucky!”
‘Aww. That’s kind of sweet.’
“And he looks like him.”
Kurapika glanced back at the severed head of chucky, not finding many similarities between him and… it.
“I… appreciate your compliments Gon, but please don’t associate me with that thing. It smells like someone has been crying an awful lot in that costume.”
Killua hummed. “Why did you smell it? Creep.”
Gon elbowed his friend. “Hey, be nice. I also smelled it, but I picked up the scent of cigarettes more than anything.”
‘That poor soul. I wonder if he felt relieved when Killua ripped his head off. The employee will get a break, hopefully.’
The three exited Chuck E. Cheese.
Leorio waved to them from the car. “Hey, hurry up. We need to get her home.”
Gon and Killua raced to the car, Kurapika not far behind.
“What happened to (Name)?”
Killua slid in to the backseat, quickly buckling himself before leaning to the side to get a glimpse of (Name).
“She passed out when we left to grab the car. Apparently she hasn’t been sleeping well.” Kurapika answered.
“Apparently? Isn’t it obvious? She’s been worried sick.”
‘Mostly about you…’ Killua thought. He folded his arms over his chest, hoping his glare would clue the blonde in to his disappointment.
“Yeah. I could hear her pacing around her room the night before the carnival.” Gon said, leaning against the passenger seat.
“You better be glad she’s asleep, or she’d be reaching back to make sure you buckled yourself in, Gon.”
Leorio pushed the boy back before focusing on the road.
————————
Kurapika carried (Name) to her room, much to Killua’s chagrin. He didn’t like that the blonde took over the role of her caregiver, as if he’d been there for her darkest moments.
He hadn’t. In fact, when she was at her lowest and dying, he hadn’t been there.
“Killua. Empty your pockets.”
Leorio stood before him, holding Gon up by the ankles as he shook him.
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Because you’d rather I search you than (Name).”
He couldn’t argue with that. Killua emptied his pockets, revealing an alarming amount of Chuck E, Cheese tokens he’d stolen.
“Jesus Christ- how did you fit that many in there? That’s a literal PILE of tokens.”
Killua picked up one of the tokens and tossed it in the air. “I have my ways.”
“Killua, I thought you said to steal tickets.”
Gon dropped the tickets onto the floor. “Those are next to useless. You can only use them the same day you get them, Gon.”
He smacked his friend over the head as Leorio gathered the coins.
“How you got these at all is something I don’t want to know. I’ll be returning these in the morning.”
He placed the coins into a jar. “If this goes missing I’m telling (Name).”
“Snitch.” Killua muttered under his breath.
Leorio shooed them away, telling them to brush their teeth and go to bed as he tidied up the messy living room.
‘She’s been running on empty, if she wakes up to a mess she’ll overexert herself.’
He started folding up the blankets, sighing to himself.
Kurapika placed (Name) on her bed. It was the first time he’d seen her room, and he wasn’t surprised.
The walls were pink, with random anime posters on the wall, along with several stuffed animals on her bed and dresser.
It was relatively clean, besides the odd article of clothing strewn across her floor or a random surface. He assumed it was because she’d rushed to change, considering he recognized the shirt thrown in the back of her desk’s chair.
“Why are you still in here?”
Killua and Gon peeked into her room from behind the doorway, the white haired boy frowning at Kurapika like he was some bug that had crawled out from under the fridge.
“I was just putting her to bed. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Killua scoffed. “Yeah, maybe, but I wanted to make sure (Name) was okay. A stranger took her to bed, after all.”
‘Stranger? I…’
Kurapika pulled the blanket over her torso and to her chin. “I’m no stranger. I’m a friend, you know that, right?”
Killua didn’t answer. His silence said everything.
“…”
Kurapika sighed, pushing himself up. “I hope you get used to having me around, or it’s going to be a long three weeks.”
“I won’t. After those three weeks are up I don’t expect to see you again anytime soon. After all, you just hate being around (Name), don’t you?”
Gon elbowed his friend. “Hey, that’s enough. You’re being a bit mean, Killua.”
His pale friend shrugged. “It’s just the truth. He hasn’t texted (Name) back ONCE since our trip to York New.”
Gon blinked. “Really? But (Name) said they talked all the time before York New…”
Kurapika brushed by the two. ‘I hate being reminded of what used to be…’
The blonde descended the stairs quickly, not bothering to look up when Leorio called out to him.
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Leorio.”
He closed the door to his bedroom and flopped onto his bed.
‘Three weeks. Three weeks in the same house as (Name).’
Kurapika turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.
‘I just have to keep myself from getting too comfortable. That shouldn’t be too hard.’
The blonde looked to the bag of candy he’d picked out the other day.
‘Right?’
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