#they would've never looked twice at each other in the first place if they hadn't known each other since kindergarten

[tulipe-rose]

Shinichi

Shiho

Yusaku

Yukiko

The brunette to her cherry blonde.

You can not convince me that Shinichi's eyesight is still 20/20 after all that strain (fireworks (where he was so up close I'm surprised he wasn't burnt), flash bombs, and straining to see in the dark then suddenly having huge headlights pointed at you. Did I say bombs?). The explosions that happen in his vicinity –mind you, he's usually at the heart of them–almost daily must have had some sort of aftereffect on his eyes and ears, no matter how small.

In conclusion, I AM AT YOUR DOOR AOYAMA, OPEN UP. YOU CANNOT DO THIS AND THEN PRETEND THESE PARALLELS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU WHILE YOU GO ON ABOUT SO CALLED TRUE LOVE. 'Shinshi is never going to happen-' I WON'T HEAR IT, ESPECIALLY NOT FROM YOU, AOYAMA.

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

I'm seeing a lot of people saying they're excited to see Charles realize he's in love with Edwin, but...y'all... I think he knows? The whole season he seems like he knows exactly how he feels about Edwin, but was denying himself the romantic aspect of those feelings. And there are SO many reasons for why he'd be doing so.

First off, he has said he doesn't want to end up like his dad. I'd wager he doesn't want to have a serious romantic relationship with anyone because he's worried he'll end up treating them like his dad treated him and his mum. I do think he had feelings for Crystal, but maybe he didn't believe it could become something lasting. She is living after all. He very well may have figured she'd grow up and move on to someone else, but at least he'd have had a girlfriend for a little while, almost like he would've if he hadn't died.

Similarly, as well as wanting a girlfriend/ partner, he may have always thought he HAD to have a girlfriend like lots of people think they HAVE to find a significant other of the opposite sex to settle down with like they're expected to. For someone who clearly wants to be alive, it's understandable for him to be reaching for what he was taught to be the "normal" experience for normal teenage boys.

It doesn't help that his dad very well could've been homophobic, so Charles never felt like it was safe for him or the boys he might've crushed on. Not to mention, it was the 80s, so he was probably being taught boys liking boys was wrong and/or would get you killed, even if his dad wasn't the one saying it.

I feel it's also worth mentioning that he's known Edwin for 30 years. That's nearly twice as long as he had been alive. Edwin had shown Charles a kindness he'd seen little to none of before and then kept being kind to him. He was unapologetic and sometimes harsh about voicing his opinions, but also listened to Charles'. He knew what it was like to hide things about yourself like Charles did. Charles may have even clocked Edwin was gay from very early on.

I headcanon he probably more or less went from ignoring it cause it's Edwin, to feeling weird about it but not showing it, to getting curious and learning more about it, to looking up "how to be a good ally" to accepting Edwin and reassuring himself that if Edwin does come out to him, he will make sure he knows that Charles will always accept him for who he is, and that this wouldn't change how much they mean to each other nor the respect they have for each other. (Really, he seemed so ready for that confession. It wouldn't surprise me if some planning went into what he was gonna say. Just didn't expect it to happen in Hell.)

Anyway, my point is that Charles seems to have put Edwin on something of a pedestal. He sees him as kind and good, and Charles will protect him with everything he has so that he may remain so. Charles can't help but love Edwin, but he will make sure that love is from a selfless place. Partially so he won't be taking anything Edwin shouldn't have to give, but also because he may not think Edwin would want to give or take anything to or from Charles if he saw the things Charles hates so much about himself which possibly includes: all the things his dad said was wrong with him, everything he grew up being told was wrong with people like him, all the things he sees of his dad in himself, and possibly more.

AND! Edwin is an upper-class(?) white boy from 1916. Charles is a queer punk from India. He may have thought Edwin would have had some prejudices against him even subconsciously for a while when they first met, which would have also been an acceptance-of-feelings deterrent.

Ultimately, if it turns out Charles also needed over 30 years of looking at his friend like that to figure out he like likes Edwin, I'll still love it. But I'd also be surprised. Boy was blushing and giggling for Edwin since they first met even while dying of fucking hypothermia. I swear.

[achaotichuman]

Hiii! Hope everything is fine and that your day/night is going well! I'm just in my Andras feels and now I really understand why I never 100% loved Feylin or Feyre in the first book (even though I loved it and I still love it) and the reason is... Andras. Not only because Feyre killed him (knowing/feeling he was a Fae) but for what she did after and... idk, I have this hc that if they had to break-up it wouldn't be because of Tamlin's character assasination (never forget, never forgiving) but because love couldn't heal the scars/the pain. After these deeply traumatic events (for both) after 50 years of pain and sacrifices, now that they're free from Amarantha... they breathe and see what it has been done. Everytime Tamlin holds Feyre hand, will he think about how she holded a knife to skin his friend? How she drowe one in his heart? She died for him, she did, he loves her, she loves him... but everytime they both look at each other it feels like a burning lash that never heals. If they kiss, do they taste the ashes of their love burning them? A gnawing pain in their stomach, the burn of holding each other eyes, trying not to flinch away? Trying to hold on the love that hurt? Idk, I would've loved so much the angst of the end, if done like: we love each other so much that I would die/kill for you, that bond that can break a curse, but that isn't enough to heal, because we keep burning an putting salt in our wounds, where they both began their journey to heal and rediscover themself. Maybe even how to love again without all the hurt. Alas, this is my Angsty hc andddd, sorry for my rambling! I hope it didn't bother you too much! Anyway, I love Andras, we knew him for one minute, but it was enough for me to love him (and for me to never actually forgive Feyre -bc she never does think about him twice- and truly like/like feylin -bc aaaaa, Andras and TamTam and Lucien trio deserves better and asxtcf) because he Deserved better and was a good friend and Fae and ok, now I will stop babbling away lol Sorry again!

No need to apologize, I love rants, headcanons, all the like! My inbox is always open for them!

I totally agree with you, I didn't like Feyre either more so towards the end of Acotar and the start of Acomaf because at that point she hadn't given Andras a single thought. A main point of her trauma is Acomaf was that she had two stab two fae, but she never cared or mentioned the first life she took that led her to Prythian in the first place. Andras should be recognized as a war hero for the sacrifice he made, but Feyre does not care in the slightest about him.

It's also why I hate one specific line of her thinking, in Acomaf when Lucien comes to take her back, she states "Something had festered in the training at the Spring Court" (that line is paraphrased) pretty much stating all training in Spring was terrible and created monsters out of men.

This to me solidifies that Feyre has entirely forgotten- or admantly does not care for Andras. The man (and the men before him) that willingly put their lives down for Prythian's sake to her are the result of 'festered training'.

I can't feel any form of pity for Feyre because she doesn't give a single fuck about the lives she takes unless it gives her sympathy points.

I like the idea that Feyre and Tamlin's relationship should have ended because despite the fact both would go to the ends of the world for the other. Tamlin is holding on to the life she took, the blood that stains their hands. They can save each other, but they can't heal each other. The angst is *chefs kiss* delicious.

But as it is in canon, I can't respect Feyre for what she's done. By Acomaf she's become a person who extends no empathy to those who don't benefit her.

Anyway, loved this rant and headcanon. Send any my way that you think of!

[asher-writes]

24 for the edgy asks. For Ari and anyone else you’d like

What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

Oh I know exactly why this is an Ari question.

Ultimately Ari has been at a crossroads twice in his life, the first was when he left Sight, so first let's define what Ari's life is like now and what happened when he made that decision:

So, he left, age 16, he travelled a while until he landed in Section 50, and here he took odd jobs that gave him training and he found an affinity for tech and engineering. Enough that one of his long term boss' put him forward for an actual qualification.

Because he was so adept at it - love that special interest for him - he was offered the (extremely rare) opportunity to study Engineering Physics - which was a huge jump, but he had already been privately studying because he loved it so much.

From there he actually went on to teaching, which is a well paying job. He got lucky in that sense, just ended up in the right place at the right time.

He started transitioning at the age of 17, but couldn't afford top surgery until he was 21.

So if he'd stayed at Sight, what would have happened?

He wouldn't have transitioned, that's the most obvious one. He would have resigned himself to a life of religious servitude, where he would have taken his pre-destined path of being trained as a religious leader.

He probably would've kept using painkillers, the alcoholism was inevitable either which way.

And he would never have started engineering which honestly has been something he's genuinely loved and is passionate about. Nothing else has ever really resonated with him on the same level.

But what about his job now?

So technically, Ari's job description is as an engineer, he builds all sorts, but most of the things he designs are either - in conjunction with April - made to purify water, grow food safely, or they're weapons designs.

Ultimately, the clocktower serves as a means to make connections across Arcadia - to share resources, help each other out so on so forth. But they're also thinking more long term in terms of, hey we can't live like this forever, something's gotta be done about the police force, and the government.

If Ari hadn't joined the clocktower:

He'd probably still be teaching, or maybe by now he'd be looking at a more managerial position at the place he used to work towards the end of his course. He'd be living a much more peaceful life - but i don't think he'd find the work as fulfilling at all.

[purposefully-lost]

"I first fell in love with the wilderness when I was a kid. In a bid to impress my mom, her boyfriend at the time took us on what would be my very first camping trip, just a bit of a drive north to what was then called the Lowry Family Campground. Maybe it didn't leave a mark on her, but it sure as hell left its impression on me. I had my first taste of real adventure there on the connected hiking trails, my guardians dragging behind me and fighting to keep me from just wandering off into the woods to explore further. I loved the sight of all that green, of the animals glimpsed through the trees, I loved the huge open space and the chance to really pay attention to nature in a way I never had before. Every summer after that would be spent begging my mom for another trip, or another hike, or a new wild place to visit.

Daniel- the aforementioned boyfriend- shouldn't get all the credit for my newfound love, though. Most of that belongs to someone else. We weren't the only family camping that weekend, and on the second day of our stay I ran right into a little boy around my age with a personality twice as big as he was. My mom recalls him being a little strange and quiet, but if he was, I didn't notice. We were fast friends, connected in an instant in a way only children can be. He had dirt on his face and a beetle caught in his hands, and I was happy to call him my new best friend.

While everyone else was content with just the sight of nature, he wanted to be involved, right in the middle of it all, and he dragged me into it with him. We spent that day getting into everything we could; we chased frogs and dragonflies, we dared each other to look under logs at what bugs might be beneath, we spent a whole hour just being fascinated by water striders on the surface of the nearby creek. We waded into the creek too, much to our parents' dismay. By the time night came about I had mud caked into my hair and enough mosquito bites to last me a lifetime.

We shared a campfire that night, while our parents got up to their own interests or worried about dinner. I'm not sure what we talked about, but we stayed up until we had to be pulled off to bed. I'd wanted to stay in those woods forever. I think he would've agreed.

We said our goodbyes the next morning, when my mom wanted to start the drive home. But if I had to credit anyone in the world with sparking my love for the natural world, it was that strange, friendly little boy."

- From an early chapter of Prey Animal, titled "Firsts"

-----

"About six months after the trial, I went to stay with my mom for a few weeks. She'd had a knee surgery and needed someone to help her out with the normal things while she healed, but I also suspected that she wanted me home so that we might finally talk about Jack Rabbit. More specifically, the fact that I'd been a victim. She was worried out of her mind and I don't think I ever quite convinced her during that time that I was fine, that I'd moved on. Of course, if she's reading this now, she'll know that that was still a lie, just for different reasons. Sorry, mom.

The stay was mostly uneventful, and a well-needed break from my life at home. Even though most of the media frenzy had died down by then, the events they'd centered on hadn't been forgotten. Memorials for some of Jack's real victims hadn't been taken down yet, especially not at the campgrounds, and the campgrounds themselves were still operating on restricted hours and access. Most importantly, my coworkers were starting to decide that it'd been long enough, and maybe they could ask me for an official statement or interview. I needed some particularly boring time away.

One interesting thing did happen, though. Mom and I decided we might as well go through some of our old stuff in the attic, see if there was anything I wanted or things we should get rid of. We came across some old photo albums from my childhood that neither of us had seen in years. There were about three pages of photos from the first time we went camping together, of the two of us and others at the Lowry Family Campground back in the 60's. One particular photo was of me and a young boy: the picture quality wasn't fantastic, of course, but you could see his dark hair and bright eyes, the gap from a missing tooth when he grinned. The both of us were covered in mud and looked quite proud of it. That was my boy, my best friend for a day who had pulled me into loving the outside world.

And he looked awfully familiar. After I saw it, I took it out of the page it'd been tucked into for the past several years, marched upstairs, and found my things. At that point I still had a folder full of research on Jack from when I'd first learned who he was, including a newspaper clipping from the original murder of his family. One of the photos of the family therein, provided by a more extended member, was from a few years before the deaths. It showed a younger Jack, not yet bearing his scars, posed with his new foster family at a family campground somewhere outside the city.

Looking at it then, I realized that my fondly remembered boy had been Jonathan Stone.

I'll spare you the full details of how this revelation managed my turn my already burning world on it's head. It changed nothing, of course, but it changed everything. Staring at those photos, I sat down on my bedroom floor and cried for a good, long while."

- from a later chapter, titled "Guilty Verdict." The described photos are printed on the following pages.

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: You Always Meet Twice

Link to ao3

Chapter 43

Nick hadn't quite processed what happened as he followed the Headboy along the road. He would perform again? That was crazy!

The days when he had expected to be recognized where long over. Skimming over the rim of his collar, he felt the dirty, sogging wet corduroy cloth. It seemed like it still did the trick. Now Nick was thankful that he had never changed his clothes. He had lost all hope for this part of his life. Morrie had been so certain that nobody would care about him.

Perhaps it was divine intervention?, he wondered. Perhaps the light had indeed meant something, a fate that had seemed to be completely out of reach.

After a while, they met another patrol. The Headboys greeted each other, then the other man eyed Nick up and down. “Who's that?” “Can't you tell?”, asked his companion. “Look closer.” Nick threw himself into a proud pose when he met the other man's eyes. Being scanned so shamelessly made him remember how it felt to be a star. He was expected to act the part again and hell, he wouldn't disappoint. It seemed he did a good job despite his shivering body.

“Oh, not bad”, the Headboy sneered. “What are you doing with him?” “Honestly, I think he's our new bard.” “Really? Just for the looks? What happens if he opens his mouth?” “My voice is in perfect condition, thank you very much”, Nick threw in and the two regarded him with surprise. “He's funny, I guess.” “Yeah. He takes himself for the real Nick. I know, like the 'real Uncle Jack', right? But I heard him sing. He's good enough.” “Well, if he can sing like he can brag, it's gonna be hell of a show.” “Won't hurt to try...”

Nick didn't like that they talked about him like he wasn't there. But on the other hand, they gave him a chance to prove his identity. What else could he ask for?

“You bring him in?” “Yeah. Could you take care of my route tonight? Nothing's happening there anyway. You can just pretend you did it.” “That's fine with me. I'm bored of my route anyway, it's just as empty. Sometimes I wish Plaguies would show up, just for a little bit of action.” “I wouldn't say that out loud.” They bantered a little and Nick was left to listen until his companion finally went on with him.

“I know you're playing the role and all but don't overdo it”, the Headboy told him when they were out of the other man's hearing. “Some won't have it from a newbie. You better stay quiet unless someone asked you first.” “But wouldn't that miss the point? You promise a Lightbearer, you better have a Lightbearer with you.” Nick felt comfortable in his role and the Headboy didn't seem to mind too much, judging by his looks. “You can strut. But don't talk, you hear me?”, he still demanded. Nick sighed, dipping his head. “Alright, alright...What is it with you guys being on edge all the time? I know this isn't a happy place, but why do you have to make it worse for everyone?” As far as he could see, the Headboy's expression darkened.

“We're not making it worse. We survive, we care for each other and make sure we don't go mad like everyone else.” “But what about the others? Why don't you leave them alone?” “We do leave them alone.” “What's that patrol about, then?”, Nick asked and opened his arms. “We're looking out for Plaguies.” The man avoided Nick's gaze. “...and for Wastrels like me. To bash their heads in.” “No decent person walks around at night”, the Headboy insisted. “If they do, they are infected. Healthy people run away when they see us. I didn't need to bash any heads in yet. You would've been the first and you asked for it.”

Nick pondered. “Still, I don't believe the plague-part. Why don't you let people walk around at night? What if they're hungry? What if they don't have a home, like me?” “There's plenty of ruins to live in.” “I found mine out of mere luck! You can't punish people for being unlucky!” Now the Headboy sighed. “What's your name?” “Nick Lightbearer.” “Hmm...” The man wasn't pleased with the answer. “Okay, 'Nick Lightbearer', you better keep these questions to yourself. Either you see the point one day, or you're not. You should, if you want to be our bard. But not everyone is suited for this life. Honestly, if it wasn't for your voice, I wouldn't have chosen you.” “Ah, thanks for your unbridled honesty”, Nick cooed and strutted again. “Is it because of the incredible agility of my body? My tremendously handsome face? Or my borderless wit?” The Headboy huffed. Then he sounded like he was chuckling.

“What's your name?”, Nick was motivated to ask. The Headboy paused for a while, then he answered shortly: “Howard.” “Nice to meet you, Howard.” “I guess so, 'Nick'.” “You are very excited for someone who wants me to join the club.” Now for the first time, the Headboy gave him a look. “I do what I can for you, okay? But it's up to you - your performance - if you stay with us.” Nick recalled something the man had said earlier and his insides began to burn. “Is this what happened to your former bard?...Did he...fail a show?” “Him? Never!”, Howard blurted out, than avoided his gaze again. “Look, I don't want to talk about it.”

Relief washed over Nick and cooled his insides. “Okay.” He fell silent then, but their silence was soon interrupted by the next patrol. Nick was introduced again and this time, he only crossed his arms and silently met the patrol's look. This one, however, was more excited for an upcoming event and more willing to welcome him right away. He asked for his name. “Nick Lightbearer”, Nick answered of course. “Ah, that's the spirit”! The other man laughed. “You're good?” “Yeah, man! I'm the best!” “My name's Alex by the way.” When he offered Nick his hand, Howard intervened. “It's not official yet.” Alex held up his hands. “Oh, alright, I save it for later then.” Towards Nick he added: “Good luck” and he sounded like he really meant it. This was the kind of audience Nick hoped for.

They went on and Howard had no advise for him this time. “How far is it?”, Nick asked instead. “Another mile. Why, you're played out already?” “I'm cold.” He muttered and hugged himself. His clothes just didn't dry. “Yeah...Happens if you stay out in the rain...”, Howard answered without pity. “I didn't know that my life gets a new purpose tonight!”, Nick protested, sulking a bit. “Yeah...Makes sense.” “Wow, you just agreed with me.” The Headboy fell quiet. Then he answered: “You have some attitude. You're not the real Nick, but some fancy artist for sure.” Crestfallen, Nick rubbed his hands together. “I guess you'll never believe me...” Howard gave him another look. “Hey, just focus on your show, okay? You can call yourself whatever you like if you make it.” “...okay.”

He silenced again and just hoped for the journey to end soon. They met other Headboys and the introductions became more and more tiring for Nick. Considering the high expectations of his audience, he really hoped his voice would recover soon. Promptly, he sneezed. “What if I catch a cold?”, he whined, panic growing inside him. “Then of course nobody will expect you to sing.” “I...I hope so.” “We want a good show, not to force a bad one”, Howard answered firmly and Nick found comfort in his assuring voice. He didn't feel like he'd send him into a trap. He would have a real chance.

Finally, they left the road and approached a massive wooden gate that was guarded by two Headboys. Once again, Howard explained his plan while Nick stood beside, arms folded. This time, the Headboys wanted to hear Nick sing. Now that he knew what was at stake, he was more nervous. He cleared his throat and began a calmer song that didn't make his voice rasp too much. The guards exchanged glances. “Well, with a mic...”, one of them said, not very enthusiastically. Still, they let them through.

They entered a yard where more Headboys sat at a campfire or under a porch and chatted. A radio played quietly somewhere in the distance. Howard spoke to those they passed. They were curious why he left his shift and who that new guy was. Nick said hello to everyone, trying to act more like a new member than a prisoner, but the others kept their distance. It wasn't hard to stand out as an outsider since everyone else was dressed in a black leather uniform. Nick had just warmed himself a bit at the fire when Howard pushed him further. They went inside a large building that looked like it was made of metal bits and branches, applied to the remnants of stone walls.

Inside it was pleasantly warm, even though Nick's naked feet didn't quite like the stone floor. A radio played here too and he could hear laughter from a room further away. “Come on, this way”, Howard ordered and led him down a stairwell instead. It brought him away from the warmth and into a colder cellar. A narrow hallway expanded from there. It made Nick feel very uncomfortable. Was this a prison? “Can we do something about my wet rags? And me being cold? Please?”, he whined. The Headboy turned around and scoffed: “What do you think I'm doing?” Then he opened a door and gestured Nick to get in.

Nick carefully peeked around the corner. He was surprised to find showers. Just a bunch of showers lined up and waiting to be used. The image of hot water made his feet move.

“I'll wait here until you're done”, the Headboy informed him and closed the door. Nick quickly peeled himself out of his clothes and hurried under one of the showers. At first, the cold water made him jump backwards, but it warmed up and soon, Nick dived into the most comfortable heat he had ever experienced. He gasped and chuckled and rubbed his skin. He ran his fingers through his hair and found way too many knots in there. Damn, the things he'd do for a comb! But perhaps the Headboys had one. They seemed to have all the resources other Wastrels could only hope for.

Now his eyes fell on a bottle of shampoo on a shelf and he picked it up as solemnly as if it was the most precious treasure. He rejoiced when he felt the soup on his skin and in his hair. Even when he had washed out all the soup, he stayed under the hot spray. He opened and closed his hands, beginning to feel his fingers again. He didn't want to get out. He knew he'd freeze again. Nick searched the room for a solution and noticed that the shelf offered towels too. Fluffy looking, white ones. Waiting to take him in. They persuaded him to leave the shower and fetch one.

It wasn't as fluffy as the Avalon Hotel towels, but enough to make him stay wrapped into it for a couple of minutes. Then he rubbed himself dry as good as he could. His face fell then he eyed his dirty, wet clothes. He did not want to wear them again. But looking around, there weren't any spare clothes. He remained wrapped into the towel to open the door. Howard was there, leaning against the wall and looking very bored. “About time”, he muttered.

“What about my clothes?”, Nick asked. “I don't wanna put them on again.” “Hm...I can't give you any of ours as long as you're not a part of us.” Howard tapped his chin. “Just hand them over, let's see what we can do for them until your show starts.” “When does it start anyway?” Nick didn't feel like performing now. “Tomorrow night I'd say. Can't keep you idling around for too long. The lads want to know if you're worth it.” “Okay.”

Nick immediately felt better. An entire day to prepare was good news. With new motivation, he picked up his wet rags and went outside. Howard led him through the hallway into another that opened up to several bedrooms and sitting areas. They all looked comfy despite being worn out and made out of scraps like the building itself. Nick looked forward to sleep in one of the beds. But the corridor narrowed again and they went down another staircase. This gave Nick the impression that he wouldn't sleep so comfy yet.

They stopped at what clearly resembled a prison cell. “Really?”, Nick blurted out. “I'm a bard, not an intruder!” Howard silently opened the cell and looked at him. “You're not a bard yet. Also, this is more comfy than outside in the rain, right? It's just until tomorrow.” Nick saw that he had no chance here. At least the bed inside was a comfort. “Can I have a blanket? I just have this towel and I'm already about to catch a cold...” He tried puppy eyes on the Headboy. Howard didn't flinch, but he gave him an “alright” and then reached out a hand. Nick furrowed his brows. “Your clothes.” Nick understood and handed them out. After taking them, Howard closed the cell. When he left, Nick slumped onto the bed, wondering if he'd really get his blanket.

The cell didn't contain more than the bed and an empty night stand. A TV or a radio would've been nice, but Nick was too tired to entertain himself anyway. He assumed it would be okay for one night and waited, barely able to keep his eyes open. He had already accepted to use his towel when Howard finally came back. He handed him a thick soft blanket through the metal bars and even more. A canteen with water and most pleasantly – a slice of cake.

Nick's eyes lit up and his mouth watered. Suddenly, he noticed how hollow he was inside and wondered how he didn't starve yet. “I didn't have cake since forever! You're an angel, Howard!” He could've sworn that the man's mouth corners twitched at this. “I just figured you must be hungry. Anything else you need before I leave for today?” Nick thought about the TV again but decided he didn't need it. “No...I guess I'm fine now. You come back tomorrow?” “Someone will, perhaps not myself. Don't worry, the lads will take care of you just as good as I did.” “You set high standards.” Howard looked like he attempted to reply. Instead he went for: “Good night, Nick.” “Good night”, Nick answered with a smile.

[writingamongther0ses]

"HADES!"

The shriek rang off the walls of the Underworld. It made the souls around the Styx dissolved into a frenzy and Charon was forced to whack souls back to figure out who had a coin. Cereberus whined, faceplanting and trying to cover all six ears. There was a crash as a vase fell.

Hades looked up from his breakfast, watching as a cloud drifted over the skylight where the fake stars shone down. "Sounds like Aphrodite," he noted. "Wonder why she's here." The goddess of love and beauty would never dare step foot in his realm. It was too dark and dank, apparently.

Persephone, who had arrived yesterday, looked up from her plate. "I told you why," she said, brows furrowing together. "Remember?"

Hades' eyes went wide and he almost spat out his water. Some still dribbled out and he grabbed a napkin to dab at his mouth. "I thought you were joking!"

Before his wife could say a word, the doors slammed open.

Aphrodite stood in the doorway. Usually, she was immaculate, with not a hair out of place (unless you liked messy hair). However, her hair had been left loose and wild and her makeup was running down her face. She stood, huffing and puffing, glaring right at him.

"You." She stormed forward, red magic beginning to sizzle around her hands. "What the fuck did you do?!"

That...was a tricky question.

Look, all Hades ever wanted was things to be nice and orderly. He had hated being underground for about ten minutes before realizing he could do whatever he wanted. If he had gotten his birthright, he was pretty sure someone would've called rebellion. In the Underworld, nobody cared. Persephone had shaken things up, but she had added her own touch to the systems of the Underworld.

The main source of chaos was the lovers.

It felt like, at least once a month, Hades had to deal with someone's lover dying and that someone trekking all the way in to yell at him about it. It made the whole day out of whack. Persephone was the mean one, not him, so whenever she was upstairs, he found himself wasting hours arguing with the person who had stormed in.

So, maybe, the next few times he was upstairs, acting as Persephone's consort whenever she and Demeter had something, he had given just a little advice whenever he saw someone pining. Just a smidge. Persephone hadn't even blinked when he asked her, once or twice, for a bouquet to help a few nervous girls confess to each other.

The first time, they had been scared. Hades probably should've taken the relaxed attitude the last few times as a warning.

"...what did I do, exactly?"

Aphrodite let out another shriek that had Persephone standing up, vines curling around her hands. "I'M NO LONGER IN CHARGE OF LOVE!"

"Oh, that's great!"

Aphrodite turned that furious gaze to Persephone and now Hades rose. He was fine with Aphrodite attacking him. His wife, on the other hand? That could not stand.

"How dare you?!" she snarled. "We bonded over raising Adonis! I thought we were friends!"

Persephone's gaze went dark and Hades's fear of Aphrodite switched. He gestured to the nervous cupbearer and the skeleton wasted no time. "We were." Slowly, vines began to rise up, covering the walls. The red magic around Aphrodite's hands faded. "We were friends until you decided," Persephone took a step forward and the vines reached the ceiling. "You make me fall in love with my son," The room began to darken. Aphrodite took a few steps back as Persephone stepped forward. "And kill him."

Ah, yes, that. Hades had his own complaints against Aphrodite, but he knew Adonis was a sore spot.

Aphrodite whined, her voice no longer shaking with rage. "He was such a handsome man..." She tried to straighten up. "You loved him too, like that, I just-"

"You got so ashamed that you wanted to fuck him, you had to try and drag me down." Persephone snarled. "You don't love anyone. You don't understand love. If you did, I bet Hephaestus wouldn't have left you. I bet that lovers would stop dying."

The goddess of sex trembled.

Persephone took a deep breath. The light slowly filtered back as the vines pulled away from the skylight. "Get out. Be happy you have less work."

Aphrodite made a faint whiny noise, glanced at Hades as if asking for help, and then groaned. She snapped her fingers and with a pop, she was gone.

Persephone stood, glaring at the spot for a minute longer. She finally straightened with a little huff, turning to him.

"We're making you a new temple."

"What."

Tired of love stricken mortals making up a sizable chunk of the underworld’s traffic, Hades decides to help mortals with their love problems before Aphrodite can answer them. It turns out that mortals are a lot more satisfied with Hades’ help than with Aphrodite’s.

[disneyanddisneyships]

Chapter 53! @gyubby99

When the group got settled at the north pole, north began throwing a victory party. "Jack, there are extra rooms back there if you want to have talk with elsa alone," he stated as he gestured to a hallway behind everyone. Jack smiled. "Thanks," he stated before walking around Elsa. He wrapped his staff around her waist and pulled her toward him. Elsa laughed. "What are you doing?" She asked with a smile. Jack chuckled. "Come with me," he stated before he took her hand and led her to one of the extra rooms. "What are we doing here?" Elsa asked as she sat on one of the chairs. "Well we haven't gotten to really talk yet. I thought this might be a good place to catch up," Jack replied. "Ah I see. Well... um..." elsa trailed off not really knowing what to ask. "How long did you know I was jackson?" Jack asked. "From when we saw each other again up until.. well.. now obviously," she replied. Jack nodded. "I didn't tell you because I remembered our fight all those years ago and I felt you needed to find yourself on your own! I didn't mean to keep it from you... I'm sorry," Elsa ranted. "Are you angry?" She asked as she fiddled with her hands. Jack looked at her. She was still her. Still the same girl who hugs herself or fiddles with her hands when she's anxious. "Not anymore. I was when pitch was here only because he kept putting ideas in my head," Jack replied. "I'm sorry I left you there with the guardians... if I hadn't of done that pitch would've never captured you and i-" "Hey hey, you have nothing to be sorry for," Elsa stated. "I'm also sorry for our fight 300 years ago. I think I was still grieving for Jackson.. or you... and I guess when I looked at your face I could only see him," Elsa replied. Jack pulled elsa into a tight hug. "I'm also sorry about the lake," elsas voice cracked as tears began to spill from her eyes. Jack pulled away. "What? Why?" He asked. "I couldn't freeze it back over and I don't know why it just kept cracking and cracking and i-i I couldn't do anything.. and you fell in and i-" elsa sobbed. Jack took her hand in his and cupped her cheek. "That was not your fault," Jack stated as he stroked her cheek. She looked at him, her bright blue eyes clouded with tears. "But it was.. if I would have just.. worn my gloves or-or taken your place... I could've sacrificed myself!" Elsa stated. "No no. Elsa. You were meant to live. You're the fifth spirit. And if you had died then I mightve never become who I am now," Jack explained. The two hugged again. After a few moments Elsa stopped crying and the two pulled apart. "What happened to anna?" Jack asked. Elsa smiled. "Well... she and Kristoff got married and had kids. The oldest girl was named Arynn. And.. the youngest boy... his name was Jack.." elsa began. Jack's eyes widened and he smiled. "Anna eventually died of old age after Kristoff passed," Elsa finished. Jack nodded. Anna and Kristoff had long lives. He was happy for them. Now it was he and elsas turn. "Elsa. Weve done this twice now and each time it doesn't turn out the way I had always hoped it would. Proposing to you that is," Jack stated as he slowly slipped the ring off of elsas finger and got down on one knee. "Jack what are you..." elsa asked as she smiled. "Queen Elsa of Arendelle, 300 years ago I never thought I would be proposing like this. I thought we'd be on the beach under the stars where we had our first date, I made up an entire plan on how I would ask you. But right here right now, looking at how beautiful you have always been inside and out, here and now is the best time to ask," Jack stated. Elsa started tearing up again happily as she smiled. "All I want is to spend our immortal lives together. You deserve a proper proposal and not just one while we fight one another or a foe. Will you marry me?" Jack asked. "I've said yes twice now and I'm not going back on that. Yes I will," Elsa stated before pulling Jack up by his hoodie and kissing him.

When the two pulled apart, they leaned on one another. "Elsa?" Jack muttered. "Yes my love?" She asked "Thank you for always believing in me," Jack stated. Elsa pulled away from him and smiled as she looked into his eyes. "Thank you for always giving me something to believe in," she replied.

[poguestvff]

Used To The Cold — S. Cameron

In which Sarah Cameron comes to a realization after her girlfriend moves across the country.

taglist | main masterlist | 2.0k words

warning(s): none, fluff, i heart sarah <33

Have you ever lost something that held either so many memories or brought a sort of happiness that just warmed you immediately even at the sight of it? Most people have something like that. Such as for children when it comes to losing stuffed animals or action figures that were a source of comfort, they missed it like hell. Said children grow up and look for a new source of comfort. Some teenagers found it in weed and alchohol, others in sports. For Sarah Cameron, she grew out of the beautiful pink blanket her father had gotten her as a toddler. As she grew into a teenager, she found a new solace.

Her girlfriend.

Sarah made it very apparent to show her love to her girlfriend who, at one point, was just her best friend who she could hardly even bare to be away from. Sarah had known she'd loved Y/n before they even got together by the way Sarah had never felt claustrophobic in the friendship that she held with the other girl. She said the three words within the first six months of being with her, words she had never spoken to another being other than her family. It was a word she, personally, took seriously. For her to say it to Y/n showed the amount of trust she held within her. Trust to not feel so closed off with Y/n.

At the beginning of the relationship, Sarah was glad that not much had changed between the two of them. That Y/n let her have her space whenever she needed it without the dependent need to be together all day though it quickly became backwards. Sarah grew even more clingy to Y/n, hardly able to deal without her hands being stuck to her girlfriend like glue. Whenever they went out to lunch, Sarah played a one sided game of footsies that only brought a smile upon Y/n’s features, one of Sarah’s favorite traits about her. Sarah loved the idea of always having a person to call her own, Y/n seeming to be the one person who could bring out her newfound touchiness. Though, sometimes she pondered on whether Y/n herself was even handling it or if she just ‘put up’ with it. If she did have an indifference towards Sarah’s actions, she surely never showed her disinterest in it.

Though the last time Sarah had held on to her girlfriend felt soul crushing and gut wrenching. As the two of them stood on the creaky, wooden dock just before the ferry, Sarah felt drained. Between the amount of crying she’d done in just the past few days had been enough to make her want to sleep forever and the comfort of her girlfriends arms around her hadn’t helped that feeling. Tears held a steady stream down both of their faces though Sarah was the one who was unable to contain her sobs. People passed around them, solemn looks given to the two of them as they listened in on the sniffles and soft wails.

Y/n didn’t need to be a genius to understand that this was twice as hard for Sarah as it would be for her. Y/n was leaving, miles away that Sarah couldn’t even pin on when the next time she’d being able to hold on to her would be. All she knew was that this embrace that Y/n held on her would be the last one for months and there wasn’t a thing that would be able to make up for it between now and then.

It evoked an indescribable sort of fear within Sarah but she knew it was immutable. If Sarah could, she'd even drop her whole life within Outer Banks to follow her girlfriend across the world. There wasn't much Sarah wouldn't do and there wasn't much Y/n wouldn't do for Sarah either, including the moving date having already been pushed back a month because of Y/n's several arguments with her parents.

"I don't want you to go." sarah whispered as y/n kissed her neck. She could hear the blonde's pained and wavering voice, how affected she already was even as Y/n hadn't even stood on the boat yet.

"I know, lover." the y/h/c girl spoke in a low tone, only sarah able to hear her words of affirmation. Y/n was first to pull back, placing her hands on Sarah's cheeks. The sight of Sarah with puffy eyes and a quivering lip made y/n's heart throb and a guilty feeling blanket over her like a raising tide. "i'll visit. Every chance I get, you know I will."

"It won't be the same." she lamented. Y/n placed her lips against Sarah’s, delicately as if the blonde were made of porcelain. When Y/n's parents had called for her and Ward and Rose had called Sarah away from the dock, Sarah only seemed to want to cling further, fingers pressing further into the thin jacket Y/n worse, but their time had finally run out. Even after weeks of pretending that they had all the time in the world, like nothing could pull the two of them apart, it had happened.

The first few weeks, the whole Cameron house had known Sarah spent most of her nights crying herself to sleep and the entire Y/l/n house knew Y/n was not going to be speaking to them for a little while due to their newest decision. Both groups of parents hadn't known that pulling the duo away from one another would become such a quagmire for each of them.

When Y/n did finally decide to talk to her parents, it was usually to say she was leaving to explore the area in which she refused to get to know the first few days. With a driver license, it gave her just a bit of freedom from her parents who's impromptu decisions had still caused for a tearing in their familial relationship.

Y/n sat in her parked car, a hot beverage in hand to adjust to the cold in which she'd just stood in for five minutes. All of it for a drink that wasn't even that good in her opinion but she dealt with it. With the hand not holding the steaming drink, she opened her phone, smiling immediately at the photo of her and sarah as her background. She unlocked it, scrolling around to find Sarah's contact and setting her phone up against the dashboard. While it began to ring, Y/n situated herself to begin to drive. "Hi, Y/n/n!" Sarah shouted excitedly the second she'd answered.

At her tone of voice did Y/n laugh. The enthusiasm was no surprise but it was funny to Y/n every time. "Hi, baby." She replied, fhe smile remaining on her face as she looked towards the screen. Sarah sat at her desk, her hands under her jaw though a pencil between her fingers. She had focused all of her attention from the papers in front of her to the driver on the other end of the phone. "What are you doing?"

The sound of whizzing paper had made Y/n glance to the phone seeing a math sheet now replacing Sarah's face before she placed it back down, a frown appearing on her features. "Math."

"Didn't you just start like two days ago?" Y/n asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"Yes and this teacher is an absolute bitch. You're just lucky you don't start for another week. You would hate Mr. Henley."

Y/n let out an awfully dramatic gasp. "Um, hello, Mr. Henley was literally my home room teacher last year, I'll have you know. Show some respect." She said, almost missing Sarah's chagrined look as she smiled.

"You're supposed to be on my side here."

"Sorry, i don't believe in biases, Sar." She joked for sarah to let out a small snicker.

"So tell me, how's minnesota?" Sarah asked, trying to spark up a conversation even if the distance was the same thing she wanted to keep her mind off of.

"Oh, it's so great. So many hot people." she remarked.

"You're not funny, no one has ever found you funny." Sarah replied though unable to hold in her laugh along with her girlfriend. "I'm serious. we haven't talked much about it and i don't want to like... avoid your new life now."

Y/n sighed, looking towards the phone to see Sarah looking back down at her work in front of her. "Fine. Well, it doesn't particularly suck. The no surfing part definitely does, though, but what can you do. And the coffee here... no, its just so bad, babe. granted, i only had one, and it's in my cup holder right now but it's gross."

"My coffee making is better, right?" Sarah asked as Y/n gave a hefty nod.

"So much better, even if it is the only thing you're good at making." Y/n laughed and Sarah attempted to refuse a smile, her cheeks quivering from trying to keep it down. "But the weather dropped today, randomly. It was seventy yesterday, fifty today but i think i'm getting used to the cold."

Sarah lifted her head back to the phone, watching Y/n focus on driving, her eyes diverting on places away from the screen. Sarah but at her inner cheek, drumming her fingers against the white wood that rested under her forearms. "Used to it?" Sarah asked. She knew Y/n's move was permanent at least until she was eighteen but something about those words made it seem more realistic. She was getting used to a place that wasn't home.

Y/n hummed. "Yeah, i'm probably being dramatic. I saw a guy walking around in a tank top and shorts while i'm wearing double pair of socks right now." she grinned at her own comment though picking up on Sarah's sudden discomfort when she replied with a small 'wow'. "Lover?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Y/n asked, the car slowing to a stop at a red light.

Sarah quickly shook her head. "No, it's nothing. Just... the work. Keep your eye on the road."

"Sarah." The blond recognized the tone of voice quickly.

"Just... I just fully realized how permanent this is. I won't see you until, what? December? That's a long time, Y/n! And, i get it, it's your home now and i can't do anything about it but—"

Y/n was quick to cut her off. "I never said this is home. Sure I live here but it's just a couple walls and a roof. It's not home, Sarah." Y/n began. "Home is you. And trust me, i've been missing home the second i got on that ferry."

Despite them having to look at one another through a glass screen the feeling—the connection between the two of them was still felt. Sarah could feel the normal warm feeling she would've gotten whenever Y/n would simply hold her hand or brush her hair over her ear. she held that much of an effect on Sarah in person and somehow even thousands of miles away.

Sarah hadn't even realized she had been staring for a total of twenty seconds until a singular tear fell down her blushing cheeks. she quickly sniffled, recomposing herself as she wiped it away. "Are you seriously making me cry right now?" She muttered with the way the atmosphere had become though relishing in the way Y/n laughed in response.

"Yes, thank you for ignoring everything i just said, lover." Y/n put the car back in drive as the light went green. Due to the steets being relatively empty in her new small town, she took the time to look back over at the phone to Sarah. "I love you."

Sarah's smile widened in thag very moment, pursing her lips before pushing them out. "I love you more."

"And don't worry. I won't get to used to it. I'll be back home, to you, before you even know it." Y/n took a small glance to the phone, enjoying Sarah's gaze that showed even with the distance put between the two of them, they'd be fine.

[catzula]

So, you chose the indigo tent?

Welcome to Shinsou's route on something wicked this way comes. I hope you enjoy.

a/n: so, here goes nothing. I'm really excited for this and I really hope you like it! Leave me a like, a reblog or a comment if you enjoyed it 😗

a big thank you to @qawaii for beta reading because you are the only person I can send this to beta and not die of embarrassment. Also thank you love for always motivating me and hyping me I love you muah.

Warnings: NSFW! Minors do not interact! Smut. 7.4k of pwp. Degrading, blow job, orgasm denial (once), hair pulling, slight choking, calling good girl, enemies to lovers kinda vibe, idk what else

Everyone has their low points of life. This night must be yours, you think.

You're tired- exhausted and on the brink of possibly passing out, even; hungry, frustrated, cold, and shivering, and everything seems to be going wrong.

Standing on the hill before the tents, you try to focus on why you're here. Never to feel like this again, of course, but it's hard to push yourself to take one more step at this point.

You have to find Aizawa; you repeat yourself. Find him, convince him to take you in so you won't ever feel this hopeless, so you won't ever think if you can survive sleeping in a night as cold as this. You can't go back, won't go back to that place you once called home. You're determined to find a new home or never belong anywhere again.

There is a dull pain on your fingers, feeling like they're frozen and burning. You know you gave to find somewhere warm to at least wear the exhaustion off of you, regain movement in your fingers and feel like you won't pass out any second.

You'd rather sleep, but you're more than aware how dangerous that could be, so you'd have to yield to a stop break, instead. As the thought seeps into your mind, your brain doesn't even give you the chance to rethink; quick to come up with more reasons for why you should rest first, then find Aizawa.

It's the sweet hope of finding warmth that pulls you closer to the tents. You know it's mad to even think of going in any of them, straight into the territory of people that are freaks, people with quirks that makes you an easy bait for them to kill.

But exhaustion has that kind of an effect on people, and even the worst ideas seem bright at the time, mind foggy, unable to give you a reasonable answer when you ask yourself what's the worst that could happen.

You won't be staying for long, anyway, if anyone finds you, you'll flee- you're smart, not so strong but quick, you can run, right?

Your eyes scan the tents to see which one you can go in and out of without being noticed, and you're quick to eliminate the red and black ones.

The red tent has torches all over, so there's no way you can try and sneak in. And the black tent- well, you don't have a good feeling about it.

The tent closest to you has heavy-looking, dark blue curtains, but when you look closer, you can see the light coming from there, too. Your body getting heavier and heavier by the second, and you're pouting as your eyes fall on the indigo, purple tent. A few careful steps taken closer, you confirm there isn't light coming from inside.

As you come even closer, so close that the heavy, velvet-like material of the tent brushes your naked arms, making goosebumps run down your body. You wait for a few seconds for a sound, anything that indicates there is someone there, but after a few minutes of waiting, you conclude there isn't.

You're reluctant but quick to slip through the curtains, staying close to the exit so you can flee without having to face anyone.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to adjust in the darker room, and you're careful as you scan the room step by step.

It's not massive, but the area still seems bigger than any tent you've seen. It's almost twice your room- your old room.

Head pounding with exhaustion creeping in, you find a hiding place behind a cupboard in the corner. Your body acts before you, slipping in the small opening with ease. It's an advantageous hiding place , giving you the chance to spy on the entrance without blatantly sticking out.

As you wait for someone to come in, for something to happen in this dead of the night, your body starts feeling the signs of exhaustion even worse than before, with finding a warm place and somewhere to sit, adrenaline slowly leaving your body.

And before you know it, you're asleep.

~

You only after realize that you hadn't thought this through.

You wake up by the dim, reflected light of a candle- you're lucky you're a light sleeper, or you wouldn't have woken up to someone entering the tent.

The silhouette of a man dances on the floor, crouching down as he holds the candle in one hand and busies the other with the pile of clothes. Not sure when he entered the tent, it seems he's not yet aware of your presence, and you know you have to get out before he does.

Noticing his back is turned to you, you finally gather the courage to peep your head from where you sit. A purple head of hair is what you first notice, his ltousled ocks sticking in every direction as if he faced a thunderstorm.

He's reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyes half open as a look of exhaustion challenging yours lingers on his face.

As you stretch your head a little more from the corner you're hiding in, you finally see something hiding between the pile of clothes. It's a cat, you realize. The man's hand runs over the black fur; it makes the cat close his eyes and lean to the touch as he continues to pat its head, scratching under its ears.

You're not aware how intensely you're watching him, wide eyes following his movements, how his odd hair color catches the dim candlelight on itself, soft shadows dancing on the sharp, handsome features of his face.

You know you have to run, get out of here before he notices you, but it's like you're in a faze, curiosity boiling in your body.

It's a scene to behold, the pair of a mad-looking man and a black cat relishing in each others' presence as you gasp and retract back when the cat suddenly opens its eyes, golden gaze looking directly at you.

Your heart drumming in your ears as you sink more into the corner you're in, you miss how the candle he's holding flickers and the way his head tilts your way so slightly.

For a few minutes, nothing happens. You're too afraid to breathe, let alone reach back out to see what the man's doing. It's silent other than your booming heart, and despite knowing you have to get out of there- now, you can't do anything but wait.

"Aren't you cold?" The voice breaks the silence in the tent, a deep grumble that turns your stomach upside down. You think you recognize it; you've heard it earlier today, quickly depicting who he is; the man with the black, beak-like mask who was doing the hypnosis tricks.

"Does anyone want to volunteer for this trick?" He had asked many times that night. "If yes, cheer for me so I can see who does."

It's an automatic response; to cheer with the whistling and clapping crowd, and you hadn't noticed the self-satisfied smile he hid behind the mask at getting a reply from everyone watching him.

"I'm talking to the cat, not to the person hiding behind the cupboard, by the way." The man speaks again, a sarcastic comment that comes out of his lips so indifferently, and it shows how unfazed he is even by having another presence hiding in his tent.

Even the thought of it is chilling, but you don't give yourself the time to ponder about it, now that your cover is blown, leaping towards the exit. You're fast and agile, and Shinsou thinks you would've escaped if you were in the presence of anyone else.

But you aren't, and you soon come to realize that as well.

As you push the velvet curtains and the cold air hits your face, you're sure you've escaped since the man hasn't moved from where he stood. Still, not taking a second more, you're about to disappear into the night.

But instead of running after you, you hear him speak.

"Stop," It's a simple command that would've made you scoff any other time. Does this man really think you would-

stop.

Just in the border of the night and the tent, you suddenly lose the ability to control your body.

You freeze, despite your mind screaming at you to get out of there; you're not able to move an inch as you watch the man as he walks towards you, painfully slow, too.

As he stops before you, you're forced to realize just how bigger he is than you. Crazy locks of hair defy gravity, looking deep blue instead of the purple you had seen in his show.

He looks mean as he stands before you, eyes locked on you. Dangerous, even.

Stuck in a body you can't charge, you have to wait as his eyes scan you with a frown on his lips, the only emotion available on his face being a silent surprise and tiredness. Even with the situation you're in, you can't help but notice he's even more handsome up close. Secretly admiring his dark indigo eyes looking at you with suspicion, the circles under his eyes giving him an even more stern look, lips pressed into a line, high cheekbones shadowing his cheeks.

"Speak." He commands once again, and you fear if you had control of your body, you might've shivered at his tone.

"Wh-what did you do to me?!" It's your first reaction to regaining control; it makes the purple-haired man scoff. He leans a little closer to you, the ends of his locks close to grazing your face, but not quite, inspecting you with a scorning look and a mean frown. He's the source of the tinge of lavender smell in the room, you realize. That and something a little more... musky.

Despite having the control to speak, you're silent as he judges you, and you swear the corner of his lips quirk at that, too. "You were at the show today, weren't you? I think you can guess what's happening."

"You- you hypnotized me!" You shout, terrified. When he hears the accusing tone of your voice, the man quirks a brow at you.

"You broke into my tent." He mocks you with a smile, looking you up and down. "Aren't you cold?" He repeats. "Come in."

Your body obeys the commend, following the man back into the tent you just escaped, your body once again meeting the lavender-tinted warm air. You stand in the middle of the room as you watch him plop himself on a seat, legs wide open, almost invitingly so, his lips curved into a smile as his gaze keeps wandering on you.

You're unable to help it when your gaze starts shifting on his form, too, especially with the way he's looking at you now; you're not sure if it's the harsh shadows on his face that makes him look so irresistible, with that knowing smirk when he catches your eyes flicking lower than they should. When he quirks a brow at you, with eyes that almost tell you; I know what you're thinking, it suddenly feels a little too warm.

A hum vibrates in the air before he speaks again. "Tell me, pretty girl," he says, "why were you in my tent?"

As soon as you hear the command, you brace yourself to blurt out the whole truth, but- you don't. Questioning eyes finding him; he shrugs. "I'm not going to force it out of you."

He looks so smug with the way he says it, too, making you scoff with narrowed eyes. "Oh, how generous of you."

He ignores the mocking tone of your voice, the only indication he even heard them being the slight tilt of his lips. "If I knew you wouldn't flee the moment I let you go, too, you wouldn't be in this situation, either."

"Is that so?" You mutter, seemingly disinterested. "I will, though."

Your words seem to amuse him, the way you resist him, despite being entirely under his mercy, acting like he has no power over you.

So he smiles; it's deceptive, dark, exciting. It makes the air shift into something new; something that feels thicker, hotter, lustful.

He seems indifferent, however, and you hope he's blind to how your body reacts, as well, to when he sighs, hands running through his tangled, odd-colored locks.

"Why are you still keeping me here, anyway?" You blurt out, wanting to get out of here before you do something... mad.

"I'm curious." He answers the question, a smile resting on his plush lips as he shrugs. "Why were you in my tent?"

Eye for an eye, you think as he counters you with his question. He had answered yours, and it was only fair if you did the same. "I was cold," you tell him, staying as vague as possible. "Your tent seemed warm."

"That's it?" His brows arch up. "The rest isn't any of your business."

"I'm curious."

"I don't even know your name!" You huff angrily. "All I know is you're a guy who works in a circus with powers that leave me a puppet in your hands. I'm not here to entertain you."

As you blurt the last sentence, you don't miss his dark chuckle at it. "We'll see about that," he mutters, but before giving you the chance to speak, he speaks again. "My name's Shinsou. Feeling better?"

"Much." You mock him with an exaggerated smile, voice hostile. "Now will you let me go?"

"Why would I?" He laughs. "You still haven't answered my questions, and haven't you heard it's only courtesy to tell your own name when someone tells you theirs?"

"And haven't you heard it's being a basic human fucking being not to keep people under your influence like this?"

A beat of silence passes as he ponders on an answer and fails, and both of you know he lost this round. "Kitty's got claws, I see." He swipes his tongue on his bottom lip, amusedly watching your reaction at the pet name. You sneer at him- but Shinsou's a little too interested in this to miss the way you shift in your place, your quickening breaths, the flutter of your eyes.

"Don't call me that."

"Why? Got you excited?" Shinsou quirks a brow when you squeak angrily. "You won't even tell me your name."

You would've rolled your eyes if you could, instead just sighing at the purple-haired man. "It's Y/N." You answer. "My Name's Y/N."

It's been a while since Shinsou had this much fun; he missed this game of cat and mouse.

"Very well then, Y/N," he repeats your name as suggestive as possible, "would you answer my question? I can force the answer out of you, you know." He looks amused as he leans forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested in what you say, how you move. Like a predator watching its prey. "All it takes is a command."

Each word makes its way out of his lips so smoothly- you shiver at the way he speaks them. And you're disappointed when you realize not with fear.

It was a lost game the moment you even felt a tinge of lust towards the man, but you doubt there is anyone who can resist his charm. Still, you refuse to play into his hand, choosing to fight submitting to him just like that.

"With your witchcraft or whatever it is, yes." You shoot back, "but you can never control me without it." You feel needles of excitement run over your skin.

"Hm?" He quirks a brow, a feline cat on his lips, making you shiver with the lust settling on his gaze. Your eyes follow the movement of his adam's apple when he gulps. "You think I can't make you do as I say without my powers?" His voice drops an octave, and it almost makes you gasp.

"I know you can't." You sneer. "I would never let you."

"Big words from a little girl. Are you challenging me?"

"And what if I am?"

"Well," Shinsou slides his tongue over his lip, your gaze follows the movement. "you'll have to prove it to me."

As he speaks the words, the heaviness that had consumed your body disappears, as well. Your eyes shoot up- only meeting his mocking indigo gaze. You don't need him to tell you what to do, as one glance is enough for you to see how his pants seem a little strained over his crotch, a print making itself visible.

"What?" He asks, a grin resting on his lips as you stay still. His voice is deep, a guttural, almost tired tone that has you shivering with each way he speaks his words. "All bark, no bite? I thought you were up for a challenge- oh." You effectively shut him up when you settle before the man in one quick motion, relishing in the way his eyes widen, a content, almost excited grin consuming his face.

"You were saying something?" You purr innocently, as if you're not kneeling between his legs, licking your lips and giving him a glance from beneath your lashes.

"Nothing," Shinsou huffs out a laugh, settling in his chair to give you better access. "Do go on."

His dick is even more prominent now, you notice, a wicked smile settling on your lips. You lift your hand to trace his cock, touch ghosting him from over the material of his pants. He's semi-hard beneath your fingers, but even then, you have to muffle a gasp at just how big he is. Unfortunately, he seems to notice the widening of your eyes and your gulp.

He leans forward to tease you, but you don't give him a chance. His eyes flutter close when your hand finally takes him in your hold. "Shit-" Shinsou curses, his tongue darts out to wet his lips as you palm him over the material of his pants, not fast nor hard enough to satisfy him but to keep him tittering on edge. "You fucking tease." He sounds out of breath, but somehow manages to open his eyes to give you a dark look.

"Can't wait to fuck it out of you."

Shinsou waits, endures your torture until you yourself can't, growing impatient to feel him in your mouth.

His chuckle sinister as he aids you while your fingers work his pants off, leaving you face to face with his now hard cock, a small patch of wetness painting his briefs a darker color.

"Look what you did to me," Shinsou heaves, forcing himself to keep his indigo eyes open and on you. "making me hard without even taking me in your mouth."

You bite your lip as your hands slip beneath his boxers, feeling him hot and pulsing under your touch for the first time. You both groan at the sensation.

As you finally push his briefs down, you first see a tuff of deep-purple hair, his cock red and angry. "Ah, fuck." He curses at the contact with the cold air, his head lolling and falling back slightly.

"If it's too much-" he breathes before you can move any further, "tap my thigh twice, or yell bandaid." He only lets you go on when you nod, making sure you understood what he said.

Without waiting any longer, you take him in your hand, and it only makes you realize he's even bigger than you originally had thought. You try to hide your doubts on if you're even going to be able to fit him in your mouth, but he realizes anyway. "What?" Shinsou mutters breathily, "scared?"

You don't answer him, leaning forward to take the sensitive tip between your mouth, instead. The bitter taste of precum has a tinge of sweetness to it, and you don't even realize you start suckling on it a bit harder to get more of the taste.

"Oh- fucking hell." He runs his hands through his hair with a loud groan, a borderline moan, when you suck particularly hard, twirling your tongue around his sensitive head. The sound makes its way straight down to your core.

Your other hand comes up to cup his balls as you let go of his angry red tip, tracing his cock to the base with kisses planted along his shaft. "Ah- fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shinsou groans when you massage his balls softly, leaving kisses on the base, your other hand pumping him slower than he wants it.

"Stop fucking teasing." He growls, voice breathy and shallow. "Or are you afraid -ah- you can't take it all?"

The smug grin he has, despite your best efforts to wipe it off has you fuming. You know he only says it to rile you up, but it works. "Shut up." You spit at the handsome man, not even missing a beat or trying to ease him in as you start pushing yourself on his length. It's pure spite, he knows it too, but it only makes it more fun for Shinsou.

You underestimated him.

You open your mouth as much as you can, jaw aching almost immediately with the pressure, but you try to discard the feeling, focused on having as much of him in your mouth.

"Ah fuck!" He groans out loudly, hips twitching, a thrust in your welcoming mouth before he can catch himself. "Good fuckin' girl," Shinsou breathes, his hand flying to your head as support, pushing you even further down. You almost miss the subtle whiny moan he lets out when you gag loudly around him. The head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as Shinsou keeps pushing you down on his cock mindlessly, your heart drums in your ears, jaw aching, breaths shallow and insufficient.

"Look at you- oh, look at you." Shinsou mutters between his ragged breaths. "Such an obedient little girl, so pretty, so eager-" his warm cock thrusts deeper in your mouth and makes you gag once again, tears that had welled in your eyes before now spilling down your cheeks. Shinsou's half-lidded gaze falls on you, face wet with drool, tears, and his precum, and you feel his cock twitch along with a groan, "-so eager to please me."

You wish- you wish you could protest, say he's wrong, that you don't care the slightest bit about how he feels, but you can't. And not because of his cock stuffing your mouth, either.

Instead, you feel the blood starting to rush downwards, straight to your pussy, making you soil your panties with how he spits out each syllable.

Shinsou's aware of this, too, how effective his words are. His head falls back, weak to the pleasure you're giving him, moaning and gagging around his length as he thrusts faster into you. The dull pain in your skull feels so good, the ache of your throat, his cock hot and heavy on your tongue-

"You're- you're getting off on this, huh?" Shinsou tightens his grip on your hair. "You like it when I call you a good girl? You like it when I use you as a fuck hole?"

You try to lie, shake your head no, but he doesn't give you a chance, no room to move your head with how tight his hold is. With one thrust exceptionally deep, Shinsou laughs almost cruelly as he speaks. "Of course, you do. You're sucking me so fucking well; it's impossible you don't."

"Good girl- good fucking girl, I bet you're soaking in your panties, too, huh? What a little slut. I thought you weren't going to give in? I thought you said I couldn't control you?"

"Fuck you." You spit out when you pull away from his cock, but he doesn't seem pleased by it. "Don't speak with your mouth full, darling." Shinsou growls, his hand cupping your jaw and forcing your eyes to meet his, fingers digging deep into the soft of your skin. "Didn't anyone teach my baby any manners? Or are you just too dumb to learn?"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can even utter a word, his long fingers force their way through your lips; whatever you were going to say stays as a muffled moan.

"You know, from the moment I saw you all I thought about as you talked and talked and talked was how I wanted to put that big mouth of yours into good use."

In all honesty- it was all you thought about as well.

With seeing the glint in your eyes, Shinsou huffs out a laugh. "Oh, look at my pretty little slut." He forces his fingers even deeper, making you gag. "You think I don't know what you're thinking? You think I don't know how much you want my cock in your mouth? Such a whore, hiding in my tent. You did this on purpose, didn't you? Came here to get fucked like a bitch in heat by one of us freaks?"

The last words are but a haze to you since by then; he's already pushing himself back and forth past your abused lips, moaning at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth, without giving you the time to think, to breathe, to accustom. Shinsou holds a ruthless pace, gripping your head fest by the hair as he groans and moans, making you squirm under him. "Good girl- ah, fuck, such a good girl, suck my cock just like that- ah!"

"Fuck- I'm coming." You almost don't hear him, only raise your gaze to his half-lidded eyes and feel his cock twitch between your lips. "I'm coming- ah- shit, shit shit!"

Your moans get louder as his thrusts get sloppier, and you feel his whole body tremble at your voice. "I'm gonna- fuck!" Shinsou finally feels himself falling over the edge he's been dancing on, his hot cum shooting down your aching, abused throat, moaning when he notices how eagerly you swallow his cum.

His body falls limp back on the seat, chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. There is a sheen layer of sweat covering Shinsou's body, making the muscles of his body shine under the dim candlelight.

All you hear in the quiet tent is his deep breaths, his head resting back, eyes closed, and he seems exhausted. A few minutes pass for him to pull himself together, opening his eyes to look at you, and- fuck he's hard again.

"Are you okay?" You shake your head, suppressing a smile at his now even messier-looking hair.

"Are you okay?" You ask smugly, coughing once because of the ache. "Thought you were gonna- hey!" You squeak as he jumps on his feet, and in a moment, you find yourself swept off the floor and in his arms. "I see you still have words to speak." Shinsou laughs, his face so close to yours, you feel his breath fanning against your ear, and he feels you tremble between his arms. He quirks a brow at your surprised reaction. You hadn't expected him to be able to continue, truth be told.

"What?" He continues, "I thought I made myself clear when I said I'd fuck it out of you."

You try to keep your last bit of resistance in you by speaking, "I'd like to see you try." But both of you seem aware you've already lost.

"Oh, I'm sure you do." Shinsou gives you a look before placing- throwing you on the unmade bed, eliciting a loud gasp from you. The dim candlelight hits his naked form in a way that has you rubbing your legs in anticipation. He isn't bulky but well-built and muscular, enough to toss you around with ease, enough to have your mouth watering at the thought of running your fingers over his well-defined muscles.

His gaze predatory, Shinsou looks dissatisfied eyeing you. "Strip." He orders, a knowing smile finding its way on his lips as you realize he won't use his powers but knows you'll obey his command like a good girl.

And you do, too. Maybe it's the anticipation or the uncanny glint in Shinsou's eyes that get to your head, but thoughts of defiance are thrown out of the window as you're shrugging off your clothes without giving it a second thought.

"That's it." He grins, his index finger just barely ghosting over your thigh, and he relishes how you squirm because of it. "Look how good you can be for me."

"Such a pretty girl," his hand continues circling your bare legs, getting dangerously close to where you need him the most, but never quite giving it. "My pretty girl." You feel him smile on your skin, littering it with kisses and bites as his fingers ghost over your pussy.. "A shame she has that bratty streak, though."

Shinsou clicks his tongue, suddenly pulling his hand back away, suppressing a smile at your needy whine. It's the kind of sound that's pushing him closer to ruining you by the second.

"No, no, baby, don't cry." You feel his hand cup your face, pads of his fingers tracing your face. His thumb grazes your lips, tracing the outline and pushing in, the sudden intrusion making you moan around it. "I'm here to help you with that."

Help you, he does. You feel his finger graze your clit, circling it just barely but even that slightest contact has you gasping for more after spending that long focused on him.

"Look at you," Shinsou tuts disappointedly, "just barely touched you, and you're soaking wet. Did you enjoy sucking me that much? Did you like how my dick tastes so much that it turned you on?"

"I-" you try to gather your thoughts, but he silences you by pushing one of his fingers in your pussy, his fingers long and slim, such pretty hands he has, his pale skin glistening with your wetness. "What was that?"

"P-please," you beg pathetically as all his motions still abruptly, eyes turning steal as he leans so close that you think your noses might touch. His other hand latches on your hair when your head lolls back down, his grip forcing you to keep your eyes on his indigo ones. The dull pain in your scalp goes straight to your core, and Shinsou can tell by how you clench around his finger.

"That isn't an answer to my question, Y/N." Your name rolls of his tongue so cold, so distant, you find yourself whining at it.

"Y-yes!" You exclaim, hips moving and grinding against his hand to find more friction with yet another cry, "I did- I did, so please!"

Shinsou has to admit.

Having you look at him with wide, watering eyes, face contorted in need of pleasure, your lips trembling as a form of begging- he doesn't think he can hold off much longer.

You feel so tight, even with just a finger, so warm and welcoming that he might be going crazy. Your mouth falls slack; eyes squeezed closed as you focus on the pleasure, silent other than shallow, desperate breathes.

"That's a good girl." Shinsou approves, adding a second finger and closing the gap between your faces to press a kiss on your lips as a reward.

So desperate for affection, you don't hear nor feel his amused laugh as you throw your arms around his neck when he starts to pull back after giving you but a peck, trying to hold him close, pull him into a kiss.

Shinsou shakes his head no, his fingers curling in you as he does so, your back arching off the bed. "Let's not get greedy, pretty girl. Don't worry; I'll take you there- as many times as you want. Okay?"

"Okay." You nod obediently and- fuck, Shinsou feels his dick ache with how hard he is.

"You take my fingers so well." He mutters, almost talking to himself, fascinated by how eager your pussy pulls him in. "Just listen how you gush around my fingers, how slutty your pussy is," Shinsou chuckles, the wet sound of your cunt making you cry out a whine. "Looks how wet you are, so messy, so pretty, wanna make you cum so many times-" He raises his brows when you shake your head 'no'

"Wanna-" you whine, "wanna cum on your cock."

"Please?" You add quickly, giving him the mastered doe-eyes. With the way his fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs, you know you're pushing him till he can't hold back anymore.

"Ah, fuck baby." You moan as his eyes roll back in his head. "How can I say no to you when you ask so nicely?"

You writhe under him as he rubs the swollen head on your pussy first, wetting the tip of his cock with your arousal as you nuzzle your face on his neck to get more of his scent, his skin muffling your moans when he lightly taps your clit.

"If it's too much," Shinsou holds you by the chin to make you look at him, your gaze half-lidded, mouth agape, you looked fucked dumb already. "what were you going to say?"

"Band-bandaids." You half-moan, half speak. Satisfied with the answer, Shinsou can't wait any longer as he's finally pushing himself in you, your cunt pulsing around him-

fuck- so warm, so wet, so soft-

"Holy fuck!" A guttural groan rips from his chest as he feels your strained walls pulse and flutter around him, trying to adjust to his size as he hears your needy cries right next to his ear. It has him losing his mind; Shinsou angles his hips just enough to have you screaming his name, and the feeling of his cock dragging against your pussy, heavy and hot in you, is enough to have you teetering on the edge already.

"'s big!" You whine into his neck, body convulsing with each drag of his cock in you. "So big- you're so big, makes me feel so full." You gasp, unaware of how you bring your hand to your stomach, pressing on the bulge that appears when he pushes in you.

You look so mindlessly fucked out; with your face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen slack and drool pooling in the corner of your lips, eyes rolling back in your skull as he plunges in and out of you.

"Shinsou- Shinsou, ah, fuck!" You babble, nails digging in his arms to leave angry red crescents. So lost in the pleasure, you're not exactly aware of Shinsou's hands roaming around your face, cupping your jaw, caressing your cheeks, pushing back stray hairs. So cute, so vulnerable for him- he can't wait to make your face wet with tears.

"I'm gonna- I- I'm gonna cum!" You moan, but he knows this already, by the way your back arching off the bed with each deep thrust of his hips, by your pussy clenching even harder on his cock, your hands holding on to him like he's your lifeline.

In a heartbeat, just as you're sure the coil that's been growing in you is going to snap, just as you're about to fall into that bliss- he stops.

A broken sob follows his stillness, a cry ripping itself off your chest at the feeling that was just beyond reach. "Why?" You whine into his chest, hips wiggling to try and feel the same as you did a second ago.

"Shh, it's okay," he coos, voice breathy, more uncollected than he tries to look, purple locks of hair submitting to gravity and falling down, hovering around his face like an indigo halo. "I'll let you come as many times as you want- if you beg."

He raises a brow at you when you squirm under his touch, clamping down on his cock when he growls in your ear, hot breath fanning on your neck. "Beg for it, pretty girl, beg for me to make you cum on my cock- such a hungry slut- beg and I'll give you whatever you want."

You look up at him teary-eyed, your body shaking like a leaf in hungry need, for release, for him, but your lips refuse to atone, your head shaking side to side as a sob leaves your throat.

You can't, you can't beg, but the feeling is irresistible.

"No?" Shinsou voices your silent rebel, and you think the shadows on his face just got a few tones darker.

"You think you have a choice?" His voice low and grave as you feel a pair of hands snake up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing just the right amount to have your eyes widen with shock, pussy tighten with need but not so much that you're gasping for air. "Nothing but a filthy whore- look at me when I fuck you."

Another squeeze has your eyes rolling back in your head, his filthy words traveling right down to your weeping core. "Now beg."

This time, you don't miss a beat before obeying, pleas falling from your lips along with whimpers of his name, but it's not enough; that you can tell by the dissatisfied click of his tongue. "P-please, sir," you whisper, it makes him move, a hard thrust in your to show praise.

"P-please fuck me-" you add, trying to speak between his occasional deep thrusts, messing with your head. "Show me my- mmh, fuck!- my place!"

As soon as the words are out of your lips, Shinsou goes out of his mind as well. His eyes widen with how your words affect him, an electrifying warmth blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Show you your place?" He growls, and you cry out a moan when he starts thrusting in a ruthless pace, his grip on your neck now suddenly a tad tighter, black spots dancing around in your vision.

"Show you what a slut you are, is that it?"

You're not even comprehending the words he's spewing, the feeling of his cock filling you up has warm tears running down your cheeks, sobs mixed with moans filling the silence other than the sound of skin slapping skin and his low growls.

"Crying? What a little baby, can't even take a cock in you, huh? Then what are you even good for?" Just as he finishes his sentence, the tip of his cock grazes that sweet spot in you, making you cry out a louder sob. "Sh-shinsou, please!"

Hearing you sob out his name like that has his cock twitching in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, legs digging into the small of his back, your nails biting in his shoulders as if he's the only thing holding you up and sane, newer ones filling his skin with each thrust he gifts you. His lidded gaze focuses on your fucked out face, drooling as your mouth falls slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head, face wet with tears you're still shedding. His hand travels from your neck to your jaw, forcing you to look at him so he can lean forward and plant a wet kiss on your lips.

"Fuck yeah- look at you, pretty girl, crying because how good I'm fucking you, huh?"

You nod pathetically, knowing he's waiting for an answer, but a nod is all you can muster with how hazy your mind feels. "More, more- please sir, ah!" Your hands travel from his arms to his back, leaving red, angry stripes on his back as well; one of your hands find a purple lock of hair, taking it between your fingers and hanging on it as hard as you can-

"Ah, shit!" Shinsou shouts as he throws his head up in the air at the dull pain you give him, his cock twitching in you and making you cry out a moan. You're not even aware you're pulling his hair, not aware you're getting him so close to cumming, not aware of anything but his fat cock drilling in you.

"Shit! Baby don't- ah, don't do that or I'm-" He groans, thrusts getting harder, faster-

"You're gonna cum?" He growls in your ear as he feels you clamping harder on his cock, the feeling of you fluttering around him bringing him to your high with you. "Huh? Are you? Answer me." Shinsou's hand grips your hair, pulling it and exposing the skin of your neck for him, open and vulnerable for him to leave marks.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the kisses he leaves on every sensitive part of your neck, the way his teeth graze and sometimes bite your skin- it's all too much, your body shaking and back arching, you're close- so, so close that-

"I'm cumming- sir, please, I-"

"Cum for me then." Shinsou orders, voice breathy and shaking with the pleasure he's swimming in.

All it takes is for him to lean for another kiss, his tongue sliding in your mouth, and you're falling off the sweet edge, cries getting louder and body shaking with a ripping orgasm, you're clamping down on his cock like crazy, like you won't ever let him go, your dainty hands in his hair and hanging on his locks without care and fuck-

"Give me one more, baby, one more-" Shinsou grunts in your ear, lips grazing the shell as his fingers rub vigorous circles on your clit, "I know you have it in you, come on."

"I- I can't-" You try to speak, but it's all too much, your mind foggy, the tip of your tongue lolling out. "You can," Shinsou growls, orders. "You can and you will."

It's not much after your body convulses with yet another orgasm, hanging on Shinsou as he keeps fucking into you, and you know he's close.

"Come in me!" Your voice cries out to the man; you have your arms thrown around his neck, pulling him to yourself, want to be closer, closer, closer- "Please- come in me! I want to feel you- ah!"

You gasp as he gives you few last pumps, overstimulation making you flinch. Shinsou comes with a groan, teeth sinking into the conjunction of your neck and shoulders and causing you to cry out in pleasure mixes with a tint of pain.

Your eyes are falling as he pulls you to himself, closing his arms around you and holding you against his chest. You stay like that for a while, both too tired to even ask each other how you're doing. He finally slips out of your abused cunt, standing up to glance at you worriedly when you wince. "Sorry."

"How are you feeling?" You hear him grumble as he shuffles through the drawers, wetting the clean towel he pulled out from there. When he comes back, you also notice the bottle of medicine he has in his hands.

"Here, take this." He gives you the medicine and a cup of water, leaning towards you hesitantly. "Should I?" He brings the towel towards the between of your legs, but still keeps a distance.

When you nod, his soft touch ushers your legs to part. He grimaces when you wince at the contact with the towel, even when his touch is so light, but you endure it.

"I should help you out with those." You mutter, half-embarrassed as you inspect the angry red lines adorning his back and arms. His chest is littered with lovebites and marks you don't even remember leaving, and he chuckles when he drops his gaze to look for himself, as well.

"It's okay; you should rest." He laughs. "I'll take care of it later."

You nod, but you still feel his gaze on you as you push yourself deeper in the sheets, mind swimming in thoughts of-

"What are you going to do now?" Shinsou voices, and you notice he's back in his boxers and a shirt, hair in a little more shape. You blink a few times, not knowing how to answer, not knowing the answer, hands fisting the sheets in tight balls.

"I first wanted to go find Aizawa." You shrug, rubbing your eyes. "Before I came here, I mean."

He huffs out a surprised laugh, glancing at you with his brows raised. "That's a first." He mutters. "What's the occasion?"

A smile sneaks its way on your lips as you give him an unfazed shrug. "You think I'll tell you? Maybe I'll let you hear what it is when you take me to him."

Shinsou stays still for a second or so, the predatory glint he had a few minutes ago appearing once again in his indigo eyes. "My silly little baby," You feel two of his fingers graze the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze to meet his. "I thought we already agreed that I can make you do anything I say." You feel his breath on your lips, leaning to close the gape.

"Or should I teach you one more time?"

[sagefranklin]

In all honesty, Sage had been so focused on the potential of losing her sister forever, that she hadn't even realized just how awkward the now could get if the other woman were to find out about her time spent with her best friend. They lived together, had for years, and their lives were so intertwined it would be almost impossible to avoid each other without serious attempt, especially when Maggie was involved. "The worst that can happen? She realizes she messed up by coming back here to pick up my pieces and moves back out of state and never talks to me again," She told him pointedly, though she would have liked to believe that it would've been impossible for Asher to ignore her forever, considering they have to speak if the other wanted anything to do with Maggie, which she knew Asher would.

"I'd be upset. Confused as to why she didn't tell me earlier," Sage responded after some thought. She assumed the same fear she was currently battling with was what the other woman would feel if the situation was reversed, but knowing the younger blonde, Sage doubted that she would have ever kept it from her older sister in the first place. "Okay, what would you do then? If your newfound sister came to you and said she was banging your best friend in secret?" She knew that their situations might be different, but at the same time, turning the question around on him might distract him from asking her any more hypotheticals about her situation with Asher.

Despite the fact that he'd already steadied himself, Sage still took the opportunity to nudge him away from her with a strong push as she made her way ahead of him on the incline, rolling her eyes teasingly when he quickly caught back up to her in what she imagined was a step or two. "You were tolerable, at best, and I wasn't exactly making wise decisions at the point in my life." If she had, she wouldn't have started messing around with Atlas at all and even more so, she wouldn't have looked twice at Yasemin that night she came home from work to find the woman in the kitchen of the Franklin house. "I know." Was her only response to his statement about not being able not being able to hold onto the past, something she'd struggled with letting go for a long time after Ruby. "Okay, you're making it weird," Sage quickly pointed out, though her tone was light. "I mean, it's not like you know Yas and you're scared shitless of Asher, so I was going to trust anyone not to say anything to either of them, it was going to be you. And... it just kind of spilled out, honestly."

Eyes widened at the sound of the blonde echoing the word "banging" back at him. It was childish, but he snickered in response and forced a sigh from his chest. "It's your business, right? You'll figure it out. You're a grown woman and so is Asher. What's the worst that could happen? She gets pissed and you two avoid being in the kitchen at the same time?" Worst case scenario, the two of them had a temporary falling out that was inevitably restored by their love for Maggie. At least, that was how it all fell together in his head, which all too often leaned towards the positive side of things.

He chewed at his bottom lip, his own positivity tanking for a moment. She'd made fair points too. "I think that she loves you and sure, she's stubborn, but she comes by it honest and you know it. So..." he trailed off, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he kicked gently at a rock. Standing still (kind of) while talking about things was driving him mad. "What would you do? If Asher came to you and said 'Hey, Sis. I have to tell you something... and then she told you about banging your best friend for years and lying about it. How would you take it?" They were the same, in ways, but so different in others. At least putting herself in Asher's shoes would give her some kind of Franklin-response.

Atlas fell into step by the blonde's side, his body softly crashing into her arm before he'd steadied himself with a smile on his mouth. "Ouch. I thought it was me for a couple of years with how much you liked to give me hell." Hazel hues trailed upwards towards the sky before inevitably working back towards her. "Things change. Can't hold onto the past forever." A look of mocking disbelief washed over his features, but was broken by another toothy look of amusement. "Me? Make it weird? Nah. I'm enjoying being on this side of things and it must be bad if you're coming to me with it. I'm honored, really."

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Punica granatum: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: a short snippet of a story you all know and love.

wc: 1.6k

tw: none

masterlist

"Are you hungry?"

"No." You cast an angry glance at the monster who is holding you captive. "Leave me alone."

"Perhaps you're thirsty?"

"No." A protective covering of shrubs shields you away from the stench of oakmoss and belladonna emitting from the entity across from you. "Go away." His green eyes shift from your hunched-over figure to the stone-cold floor in front of him.

"I..." His words falter, but you look away from him, focusing on some point in the distance. The hulking god across from you stands suddenly, storming off in the face of your resistance as you call out,

"I'd rather die than live here with you."

But that wasn't all true. Death is so final, so permanent. And you could never bring yourself to do the unthinkable and commit yourself to such an act. However, you did not want your captor to feel any reassurance from your presence.

Discomfort.

You want him to avoid looking at you, avoid talking to you, avoid you completely. Maybe then he would let you go back home to your goddess mother and your life as a humble farmer to the eternal beings of this world.

Maybe then he'd see you were of no value to him among the various others he could have stolen that day.

But Toji Fushiguro is a patient god, you learn, and your hunger strike withers in the face of his persistence.

"You must be hungry," he murmurs, leaning over the couch you're perched on and looking at you curiously. "I have fruit if you want it. And it's fresh."

Fresh fruit. Your stomach grumbles furiously at the offering, but you mask your hunger with a look of disinterest.

"No, thank you." You place your book in front of your face again, the words blurring together as Toji moves around to sit next to you, his black sweatshirt pulled taut over his chest.

"Not even some juice, huh?" You don't reply, still pretending to read the book, when he finally sighs. "Well, I'm going to go to a meeting. I'll be back shortly but in the meantime, my... friend... will be watching over you. In case you try to escape." Again, you offer him no response, and Toji leaves you alone on the couch; the invisible "friend" no doubt just the cameras placed around the property.

You've scoped them out and know where you can hide should you need a place to do something secretive. Three blind spots. That's all you had to do what you had wanted to do for some time now.

You walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water before looking over the offerings in the fruit bowl. Bananas, oranges, apples... a pomegranate.

Perfect.

You pluck the ripe fruit from the bowl with ease and retrieve a metal spoon from a drawer. All the knifes had been replaced with notes like "thought you could use one of those, huh" and "not in my house". Little shithead.

You open the fruit and scrape the seeds from inside while you stand between the pantry and the laundry room, right in the blind spot of two cameras. You devour the fruit in record timing, then dispose of it as quickly as you can before downing the cup of water you poured earlier, placing it in the sink, and in full view of a camera.

"I knew you were hungry."

The voice behind you makes your skin crawl, and you turn to face Toji again, eyes wide.

"How did you--"

"Does it matter?" he wonders, taking his hands out of his sweatpants pockets and rubbing them together briefly. "Between the fruit and the books, you're easy to predict. You haven't considered I've planted everything here for you so you'll be more inclined to--"

"You tricked me."

"And?" Your stomach lurches, and you grip the sink edge behind you, vision blurring.

"What the hell have you done to me?" Toji gives you a toothy grin, approaching you slowly and placing both hands on either side of your body. His head dips, the scar on his lips separating as he speaks gently, deliberately.

"You consumed my property. You ate one of the many fruits I grow in the fields of my domain, little goddess. You're mine... at least until I say you're not." Your knees buckle slightly, but you still manage to keep yourself upright, clutching the sink for all it's worth. "Six sections of the pomegranate. Six months out of the year. That's what you owe me."

"Fucking asshole--"

"Careful, y/n," Toji touches your chin, but you snap your teeth at him with the little strength you have left. "It's a shame you didn't eat the orange. But I bet you wish you would've eaten the banana instead..."

His voice fades to black as you slump forward, your body giving out and no longer supporting you.

_____________________________________________________________

You awake in your bed, like most mornings, staring out at the barren landscape of your new home.

"There's no life here," you whisper to no one, eyes blinking slowly. "There's nothing here."

Toji takes his respite in his own room, choosing to remain away from you, especially because you cry. You cry every single day. And when you're not crying, you're laying somewhere, sniffling into your sleeves as you dig deeper into the despair and sorrow of your predicament.

The first time you cried, he didn't know what to do. Toji started with trying to get you to eat something - which was rebuffed with a nasty retort - and ended up watching you sob into your hands, unsure of what he could do to make it better.

"You could let me go," you huffed, but he recoiled, frowning at you as if you had just requested the world stop spinning.

"You ate the fruit," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry, but them's the rules."

"You're not sorry."

"No, I'm actually not."

And from that day on, you vowed to see less and less of him until finally, you remained in your room, huddled under the comforter and staring out of the window from dawn until dusk. You don't know how many days had passed like this, but it doesn't matter.

There would be a time when you would be allowed to go home.

You don't want to be here.

Or so you think.

_____________________________________________________________

The first day you're coaxed out of bed is entirely by accident.

A barking noise draws you out of your trance, and you almost fall out of bed at the sound of something other than another person in the house.

You throw open the door and rush toward the yipping, finding Toji sitting in the living room on all fours and staring down at the little white dog. The tiny thing is staring back at him with wide blue eyes, wholly focused.

"Speak."

The dog barks twice, then a treat is produced from Toji's hand and deposited in front of the canine. When Toji sees you staring from around the corner, brows furrowed, he offers you a look of recognition. The white dog walks up to Toji and licks his face, then sits and waits patiently.

"Throw hands," Toji commands the dog, and it backs up on its back legs, raising its front paws before jumping toward Toji. "I taught it a few tricks." You approach the two carefully, the dog facing you with a wide smile and a wagging tail.

"Hey, little buddy..." you whisper, picking it up carefully.

"His name is Six Eyes."

You and Six Eyes become fast friends, running around the house and terrorizing Toji on occasion. But the best days are spent with Six Eyes in your room, both of you laying out on the bed with a book or something to take your mind off of the punishment you must endure.

Toji rarely bothers you, and you the same. Unless, of course, Six Eyes needs to pee and he can't take him out due to "work", or you need Toji to get his dog food.

But in taking care of the little dog - who is much smarter than he would have anyone believe - you find a softness in Toji you hadn't seen before. Countless times, you find him and Six Eyes napping on the couch or playing "soccer" (which is just fetch with a tennis ball), or sitting together and watching some science fiction show. Your hatred of him doesn't quite wane, but you allow yourself to see him in a different light. One that isn't so bad.

_____________________________________________________________

"Tomorrow," Toji announces while you're sitting with Six Eyes and watching a telenovela. "You're going home tomorrow."

"Wait, really?" He notices the lift in your tone, the way you straighten up and your eyes regain the hint of the familiar glow they had before he stripped it away from you. In his heart, there is deep envy, a deep desire to know what it's like to be thought of as desirable. But he ignores that part of himself, stuffing it down as you hold Six Eyes in your arms and watch him carefully.

"Yeah," he answers, tossing the pieces of junk mail into the trash in the kitchen. "For six months."

"Can I take him with me?" You hold up the dog and the animal stares at him with that stupid "head empty, stomach full" look. Toji clicks his tongue against his teeth and turns away, shrugging.

"Whatever." You respond by placing a few kisses on the dog's head, returning back to the telenovela with a cheerfulness you can't quite contain. And Toji notices it, growing ever so distant with each hour that passes, until he's fully retreated into his room and sulking while reading the volume you had first picked up when you arrived, trying to find a deeper meaning within the words he had never read before.

[johnsamericano]

“ƁҽɑմեíƒմƖ Տեɾɑղցҽɾs.” ղ.ყ.ե.

Part of the Rockct! Collab I'm holding. Click here to check out the works of other amazing authors.

warnings: sex, drinking, cursing.

~

“You played so well tonight!” A horde of people, not older than 30, approached Yuta as soon as he jumped off the stage, red guitar still hanging from his shoulders. “Can I get an autograph?”

“You played so well tonight!” A horde of people, not older than 30, approached Yuta as soon as he jumped off the stage, red guitar still hanging from his shoulders. “Can I get an autograph?”

Getting asked for things like that was a sign that they were getting bigger, nonetheless, he wasn't a big fan of signing boobs or asses.

It's all for the greater good, Jaehyun would always say.

“Alright, guys. That's enough for the night.” He left behind a round of sighs as he approached the bar, asking the woman serving the drinks for a whiskey, straight.

“Right away, boss.” They already knew each other from previous gigs, even had shared some drinks outside of the stinky bar. He would've made a move on her if she hadn’t clarified she wasn't interested in him, or in any men for that matter.

His hand straightened the short hairs of the shaved side of his head. It was a new style the hairdresser suggested, and the audience seemed to like it almost as much as him.

“Can I have another beer, please?” The person sitting beside him asked in a funny accent that had his head turning to the side before he even realized.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave me away?” Your tone had a certain humor to it that your face couldn't quite match. Your lips were as straight as a ruler, as if they'd never curved into a smile. “Are you going to keep staring?”

“Sorry.” He smiled with his mouth wide open, revealing all of his pearly, straight teeth. “I’m a foreigner as well.”

“Well, a toast to the foreigners.” You raised the bottle of beer, proceeding to chug down the remaining of the amber-colored liquid.

Both of your drinks arrived, the barwoman sliding them your way and spilling some of it while doing so.

“Did you like the show?”

“I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Ouch.” His face was plastered on posters all over the place, so naturally, you were aware he was part of the band that was playing only a few minutes before your encounter.

“Is that guitar part of the whole rocker fit?”

“Is that attitude part of the whole beautiful stranger concept?”

“Touché.” You dragged the bottle over your lips, letting the glass caress the delicate skin. “So you think I'm beautiful?”

“If I said yes, would that give me points?” His elbow was supported uncomfortably on the counter, showing off the muscle of his naked bicep.

“Perhaps.”

Interrupting at the worst timing, his band members walked up to ask him if he needed a ride home. Your flirty eyes almost looked as if they were challenging him to leave.

“I think I'll stay for a while longer.”

“Oh, will you, now?”

“Guess we’ll see you tomorrow...” They shrugged before leaving with their belongings in hands.

People started leaving quickly after that, the mood now dead with the absence of live music. But Yuta was far from wanting to leave, mesmerized with the aura that surrounded the stranger beneath him.

“What’s your name?”

“Let’s not do that.” Your bottle of beer was once again empty. “It’d ruin the vibe.”

“And what exactly is the vibe?” He asked, amused by your bizarre antics.

“Two strangers that pretend to be interested in each other so that they can have a good fuck.” Your sincerity took him aback, yet, he couldn't deny that the idea had crossed his mind once or twice.

“What makes you think I'm pretending?” Your face inched closer to his, lips ready to crash at his signal.

“Cause that's what they all do.” You whispered, the light breeze coming from your mouth crashing with his soft pillows.

“Let me prove you wrong.” He replied in the same tone. Your hands grabbed the nape of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.

“Go ahead. My hotel room is just across the street.”

“Lead the way.”

The bartender had insisted your drinks were on the house, allowing you to reach your hotel room faster. Even while the elevator ascended, he couldn't take his hands off you, admiring your body from behind through the mirror.

“Needy, much.” You snickered, hiding your face in his neck to pepper kisses all over the silky skin.

The elevator doors to your floor opened, forcing you to let go of each other while you walked to your room. You hurried to take out the card from your purse, quickly sliding it over the sensor to open the wooden door.

It was a small room, which is why it didn't take you long to find the soft comforter of your bed. Yuta was under you, your legs straddling his torso as you took off his sleeveless, denim jacket. There was a strange tattoo on his forearm, a detail you hadn't noticed before.

“Still not gonna tell me your name?” You smiled for the first time in the night, and Yuta could've sworn the room seemed more illuminated.

“We gotta keep the whole mysterious stranger concept, remember?” His hands rested just above the curve of your ass, too shy to move them any lower.

“You’re so annoying.” His lips curved into a smile, mimicking your own.

Your hands had already busied themselves lifting his shirt above his arms, his naked chest, now in display, lit by the dim moonlight coming in from your window.

“You seem to be the only one having fun here.” With a swift movement of his hips, the positions had changed. The new angle allowed him to see your face better, every single twitch of your eyebrows, he noticed. “What a beautiful stranger you are.”

As much as you wanted to deny it, a pleasant, warm feeling started bubbling up at the pit of your stomach. Without wasting another second, you threw your shirt somewhere in the bedroom. Your breasts were naked. How come he hadn't noticed you weren't wearing a bra?

“Don’t tell me you're having second thoughts.” He snapped out of it, hands quickly sliding up your torso, all the way to the small mountains that rose in your chest.

“No, just admiring the view.”

It was curious how comfortable you were around each other, almost as if you hadn't met only a couple of hours ago. The way his hands worked tortuously slow through your clothes had you squirming in desperation more than once.

“Don’t rush me.” He kept saying throughout the night, working his magic to find every sensitive spot in your body.

By the time you were both done, your bodies were hugging tightly to each other, fluids combining as your breaths slowly calmed down. He was the first to speak.

“I should be the one to leave tomorrow morning, right?” You hummed, not a single hint of sadness in your tone. “What if I don't want to?”

“Then I'll have to leave, though it would be weird since it's my room.”

“Then I'll have to hug you tightly so you can't escape.” You slapped his arm softly, hiding your face between his chiseled pecs.

“You’re ruining the concept.”

Sleepiness was washing over both of you, and before you knew it, you were into a deep slumber. Yuta kept his promise, holding you tightly from dusk till dawn. But not tightly enough, since you were gone once he opened his eyes.

With a bruised heart, he stood up from the bed, not bothering to cover his noble parts since there was no one to look. His mind ran through the possibility of waiting for you to come back, but the note left on the small nightstand made it clear you didn't want that.

-See you next time, Yuta.

There was something odd about the note, but he couldn't quite figure it out. It wasn't until he was walking back home, his hands tucked inside the front pockets of his jeans, he realized something. He pulled out the note, examining it to confirm his suspicions. You knew his name.

“Fuck you.” He muttered, grinning at your cleverness. Of course, you knew his name. Everyone at the club did. But you were careful enough not to show it, for it would mean you'd have to tell him your own.

He folded the note carefully and saved it back in his pocket. It was the only proof none of it was a product of his imagination, a mere dream caused by the drinks he'd had.

But he could do nothing about it, only wait until you decided to find him again.

“Until the next time, stranger.”

[sckyie]

word count: 1.6k

genre + warnings: angst to fluff; platonic flirting, friends to lovers, touch of insecurities

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: oooooooooooooo sunaaaaaaaaa

You know those stages that happen before you're dating someone? Those awkward, "I'm talking to someone but I'm not official," stages? That's what it felt like with your close friend, Suna. It was always something along those lines but never any action happened.

The two of you were known by your friends how you'd flirt with one another. Constantly using pick up lines and calling each other terms of endearment. It was confusing to your friends with your relationship, your friendship if you will.

There was one rule between you two once you started this platonic flirting. No catching feelings. Simple as that, you and Suna hadn't felt any tinge of romance when you were beside each other. It was easy enough as you'd help each other with setting one another on dates.

That was until you caught yourself. "What wrong with you?" Osamu poked at your cheek. "You haven't touched yer lunch at all."

"Oh, I'm just thinking," You say, snapping out of your thoughts.

"What about?" He asks.

"My stupid crush," You sighed, munching on your bento.

"Heyo!" Atsumu came into the classroom with Suna trailing behind him. He sits beside Osamu and Kita.

"Hey baby," Suna says, greeting you. He pulls a seat to sit beside you  

"Hey," You smiled. "I'm gonna go get something to drink. Did you want anything hon?"

"Just the melon soda please," Suna says, handing you some coins. You turn them down, turning to leave.

"Can I come with?" Osamu asks, knowing something was bothering you. You nod as he followed you out to the vending machines. "Alright what's buggin' you?"

"Nothing," You lied, inserting the coins into the machine.

"C'mon Y/n, spit it out," Osamu crosses his arms.

"Fine," You sighed. "I like this guy and he's been on my mind lately...It's just bugging me how bad I want to confess, but I know he probably doesn't like me. He's my close friend and it'll ruin our friendship."

"Does this guy, say, flirt with you a lot?" Osamu hinting at Suna.

"Yes, it's him," You confirmed, bending to grab the drinks. "We made a rule to not fall for one another. It's hard to not like someone when they flirt with you everyday. Even you saw it, he calls me baby and I can't tell him to stop."

"You could always tell him how you feel, ya never know, he could like you too," Osamu says. You sighed, ignoring your friend's advice, trailing back to the classroom.

"I would never date her," You overheard. Osamu puts his arm out, stopping you from entering. "Y/n is just my friend, I'd never see her as more than that."

"That's Suna's voice," You whispered.

"Oh come on, no feelings at all?" Atsumu says.

"She's too- what is it- clingy? She's always pushy and can't see her romantically.," Suna explained. "Hey, look at this chick."

You pushed past Osamu's arm, entering the room. You place his drink on the desk, returning to your food. Suna had leaned over to show Aran a photo from Instagram, he moves back, draping his arm over your chair. "Thank you baby," He says, taking your drink from the desk. You hummed in response, eating the rice in your bento.

"Hey, Y/n are you coming to the game next week?" Atsumu asks.

"Maybe," You say. "I have to study for the exam coming up."

"Aww, yer not gonna come support your baby," Atsumu teased. You rolled your eyes, finishing up your food.

After school, usually you met with Suna before practice started and before you'd walk home. It was a usual thing, he says some corny pick up line and gives you a hug goodbye after you wish him a good practice. Today however, you were hurt by his words. Clingy and pushy? Were you always so attached to him he started to dislike it?

Suna waits patiently outside the gym like normal but you didn't arrive. He checks his phone, noticing that practice is close to starting. Confused, he turns around and heads to the locker room. "Did Y/n already come by?" Atsumu asks.

"No, she didn't come at all. Wonder if she's okay," Suna deadpanned.

rin rin: hey, you didn't come by today? you okay?

you: yea, just tired, sorry rin

rin rin: it's fine, text me when you get home, yea?

you: gotcha!

You locked your phone shoving it into your pocket. A sting in your chest kept bugging you on your way home. It hurt knowing that Suna doesn't even want to be more than friends. You would've taken the rejection face on but, hearing it behind your back? Was there even a point in this platonic flirting?

After hearing his words of how he felt about you, distancing yourself from him only felt right. For the next few days, you stopped your extra flirting, visiting him after class, and overall, you stopped calling him some cutesy pet name.

Tomorrow was the day of the game, Suna had sat with Atsumu outside at lunch since the classroom was full. "You okay, Suna?" He waves his hand in front of his face. Osamu approaches them as Suna breaks out of his thoughts.

"Hm? I'm fine," He lied. "Just...thinking about..." Suna looked up to see you talking with a male classmate.

"About Y/n?" Atsumu implied.

"Do you guys know why she's avoiding me?" Suna asks.

"Because you said you didn't think of her romantically," Osamu says bluntly.

"What?!" Atsumu looks at his brother. "Y/n likes Suna?"

"I thought it was obvious. The two of 'em flirt all the time, it was bound for one of them to catch feelings," Osamu explained.

"But, she didn't confess?" Suna kept his eyes locked on you. "Why is she avoiding me if I never rejected her."

"Because dumbass," Aran smacked the back of his head. "She overheard you say you'd never date a girl like her. She thinks you're just flirting with her just to do it and that her feelings don't matter."

"Wait why do you two know she likes Suna?" Atsumu raised his eyebrow. "Did she tell you?"

"She told me, those two just caught on by how she's been acting," Osamu gestured towards Kita and Aran. "What are you gonna do now Suna?"

"I...don't know..." He says. You finish talking to your classmate and feel a pair of eyes watching you. Looking around, you spot Suna staring at you, causing you to blush and cower back into the building.

Your mind was racing after seeing Suna. Why was he staring at you? Do you think he knows you like him? What are you going to do?

After school, you headed to the gate, spotting Suna waiting by the entrance. You kept your head down as you walked with the crowd out of school. Unknowingly, you walked on you path home with Suna walking behind you. As soon as it was just the two of you on the way to your house, he decided to break the silence.

"You can't keep ignoring me Y/n," Suna calls out. You stop in place, knowing that voice from anywhere. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Shouldn't you be at practice?" You ask. You kept your back to his voice, not wanting to look at him.

"Coach cancelled, now," Suna walked to you, turning your body to face him. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?"

"Because...you said," You hesitated answering. "You didn't like me that way."

"That gave you the right to ignore me? Leave me in the dark?" He asks. He sounded condescending.

"I'm sorry I don't want to face rejection twice," You finally looked up and met his eyes.

"You didn't face it to begin with," Suna says, he took notice of your red cheeks.

"It felt like I did, jerk," You say. "Why should I confess if you're only going to reject me?"

"Why do you keep saying I'll reject you?" Suna crossed his arms.

"Because- why wouldn't you?! Stop being confusing. I like you and I know you don't feel the same. So, stop trying to get me to confess-" You were interrupted by Suna cupping your cheeks. He leans down, crashing his lips into yours. At first you didn't know what to do, your hands flew up, grabbing his wrists as he began to deepen the kiss. You pulled away, huffing for air. "I need- air- Why did you kiss me?"

"Was I supposed to let you continue to lie to yourself?" He asks, placing another kiss on your lips. His kisses were lazy but were so soft.

"Rin," You breathed. Suna pulls away, his eyes meeting yours.

"I hate those in between stages," He says. "I hate that whole talking stage. I didn't want to go through that with you."

"But...you told Atsumu," You looked away for a second, only for Suna to turn your face back to his.

"I told him that so he doesn't get on my ass for liking you," He sighed. "I didn't mean it when I called you pushy."

"Or clingy?" You asked.

"Well no, you are clingy- Ow!" You smack his shoulder, giggling at his words. "I like having you cling to me. Let's me know you only have eyes for me."

"Okay, so what does this mean for us?" You muttered.

"It means," Suna lifts up your chin, placing yet another soft kiss on your lips. "I want you to be mine officially. Let's skip all the in between parts, I just want you."

"Hmm," You hummed.

"What are you thinking?" He asks.

"I'll say yes if you let me wear your spare jersey tomorrow," You smiled.

"Deal," He leans down asking for more love but you move your face away. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Nuh-uh you hurt my feelings, kisses aren't going to make up for it," You turned around walking towards your house.

"I'm not letting you ignore me again," Suna says, quickly grabbing your hand. He whips you around, leaning into you, connecting his mouth with yours. You smiled as his hands snaked around your waist. You pulled away smiling yet still furrowing your eyebrows. Suna rolls his eyes, holding you close. "Shut up, we're cuddling when we get to your house."  

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana

[wildcatofgreen]

Ah SHIT!!! Did she just FORGET to send the second stream to Tangle???

it's not like she was feeling great that day--it'd make sense if she forgot. It took a bout of happenstance for her to remember the first time--and she had to have Cory do it in the first place. Spirits above.

She gave the lemur a sheepish grin as she scratched the back of her head. "Haha, yeaaaaah, my bad on that one Tangie. Remind me 'ta send ya the vid later.

"But like, I was totally kicking that panda's butt!!! He ain't even stand a chaaaaance against a girl like me! I was usin' moves from my bestie an' everythin'--have ya met Lyli yet? I gotta introduce ya! "But then like, Zao was being a total lameo and made me stop doin' that stuff.

"But you know that can't put a wildcat down!!!!! So I came back stronger than ever!!! And BAM BAM BAM, I WAS KICKIN' HIS ASS!!!!" She starts to move her arms exaggeratedly, high into the sky! To her left and right--she's trying to illustrate the fight with only her arms and hands! And her mouth--she will repeatedly make the sound effects with her mouth. "BWOOM! POW! We were tradin' blows an' shit! "An' then I used my trusty gemerald 'ta like, teleport all over the place!!! Only did that like, once before, by the way. It was crazy, that whole thing was crazy."

She put her own arm around the lemur and and gave her that titular smug Carol smirk, "But of course, ya girl won it all. When ya corner a wildcat, ya get the claws!!!" She makes a clawing motion with her free hand, just as they reached the table with all the food. The wildcat picked up slice of cake--it was the first thing she saw--and started chowing down.

"An' Sohny's ah whole 'nother thing--thahnk yah ahgahin by the way. Dunno where I'd be if yah ahn't help me with thaht stuff!" She swallows, her food, clearing her throat right afterwards.

The mercenary visibly cringed at the scar across the wolf's neck. Corazon rubbed at her own neck in response, closing her eyes ad she did. That's gotta fucking hurt, holy hell.

"Yeaaaah," she opened her eyes again and took her glass in her hand, "That's some fuckin' scar. Got good resolve, though--I swear most people would've given up if some shit like that happened to 'em. Hard to be positive when you're disabled from the get go."

Similar scent? H'oh boy--dogs always got some sort of superior sense of smell or whatever going on. Of course she could tell their relations from that. She's willing to bet the other dog girl could've did the same if she hadn't got so confused by their looks.

"You canines got some really strong noses. Yeah, the girl's my baby sis--proud as hell of her for gettin' this far. Came a loooong since she cried for her older sis. Now look at this crazy bitch--saved the world twice and got a whole ass man to boot.

"Your girl and my sis feel like this," she raises her right hand and crosses her first two fingers, "It's like somebody making smores--the pieces just fit together perfectly. "It's a treat, sure, but I ain't never been a fan of smores. How long have they known each other, even?"

Tangle rubbed her head but honestly it'd take more then a little bonk to hurt her and whisper knew it. Still she hoped she wasn't angry with her, as she watched the Wolf walking away and that single blue eye peak open to glare at the two mischief makers! It make Tangle shiver from head to toe! Boy she could say so much with a glance couldn't she? She wasn't pissed of course just annoyed but still! Obviously she would get a talking to later probably!

She casually put an arm around Carol and walked toward the table with all the goodies as she talked. Course she wanted to know all the deets along the way!

" Ah yea! Food does sound great! I wanna know how that second Battlesphere thing went anyway! i didn't exactly get to see! and the first one was so hype!?! "

She literally missed all the crazy moves Carol pulled off! all the super cool stuff she missed it and didn't have a clue!

" And tell me about the Mr.! never said much about him before... he defiantly looks like a keeper! "

Whisper leaned against the table in the meantime just sighing and giving Tangle a side glance. For as much as the wolf cared for her, she could certainly be a handful. Those tow together? Might as well toss a hand grenade at the other feline. She wasn't angry per say, but she did think Tangle didn't always know when to stop. She got like that when she was excited though so she didn't blame her, not entirely. Plus she'd lie if it wasn't nice to see her, she'd also lie if she said she didn't enjoy the wedding.

Her attention diverted once Corazon spoke and smiled lightly in her direction. Glad she at least understood her, not everyone she met could read sign fewer could speak with it back. She wished desperately to use her voice but she'd lost that ability long ago. She barely remembered what she sounded like back then. The question though had her hand travel to her throat as she looked very distant like she was reliving some dark moment in her life.

She gently pulled her black choker down to reveal the wicked scar along her throat, as if showing it told a better story then she could ever muster up on her own.

✋ Lost my voice when i was a child, Never let it slow me down. So i have to talk like this or not at all. You'd be surprised what body language can convey though ✋

She took a drink from her own glass just downing the whole thing looking at the glass disappointed---not her choice in drink.

✋ Still sorry about Tangle, she's just excited. She really enjoys Carol's Company. I assume you two are related? You have very similar Scents ✋

[harmonizingsunsets]

I'd Rather Go Blind & Let My Body Go Numb Than To Lose You Or The Weight Of Your Love

Prompt: Jealousy and all its cousins. Fanart Credit here.

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Anthony never thought he'd be the kind of husband who needs to know where his wife is at every moment of every day.

(To be fair, he never thought about being a husband much at all until the season he'd pursued Edwina only to fall maddeningly in love with Kate).

But here he is, sitting on the couch with his feet drumming loudly against the floor, staring intensely at the door.

On the table beside the couch sits a cup of tea, cold and untouched. Anthony had someone from the kitchens prepare it for him, but his nerves made him unable to stomach anything.

Anthony looks a mess. He'd been raking his hands through his hair for the past two hours. He'd also slapped his cheeks once or twice to stay awake.

His jacket lay discarded and wrinkled on the ground near the door. He feels guilty, knowing one of the maids would have to press it. However, he can't gather the desire to move from the couch and retrieve it. 

Instead, he's glued to the couch as he considers where Kate is. A hundred different scenarios run through his mind—each scenario worse than the last.

For the past month, Kate has been disappearing at night. He hears her footsteps tiptoeing past his study when he stays up to work. He feels the weight from her side of the bed lessen as she stands and departs from their bedroom when she thinks he's fallen asleep.

At first, Anthony questioned her about it. Kate would always make up an excuse about needing fresh air or going to see Edwina. But he knows her well enough to know when she's lying.

However, Anthony hadn't ever called Kate out on her deceit. He feared the truth, especially how it might crush him to hear it.

But he couldn't take the not knowing anymore. So when he heard the door close after Kate told him five minutes prior that she was retiring to bed, he made his way towards the front of the house. Anthony watched at the window as a carriage rode away. A hole had formed in his stomach, making him feel hollow. He then sat down on the couch so he could catch her when she returned.

Finally, after what felt like ages passed, he hears footsteps approaching the door. He quickly jumps up from the couch and makes his way to the foyer. When Kate steps through the door, her eyes widen.

"Anthony!" she exclaims in surprise, putting a hand to her chest to steady her breath. "You're up late."

"So are you," Anthony says, crossing his arms and blocking her way.

"I was only walking around to get some fresh air."

Anthony raises a brow. "Really, for two hours?"

Her eyes shift anxiously from his stare. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes," he answers through gritted teeth, anger rising within him.

"Oh well, it was such a lovely night the time got away from me." Kate stands on her toes, kissing him quickly on the cheek. "Sorry for worrying you."

As she tries to retreat, Anthony's hand lurches out to grab her elbow, pulling her back to face him.

"I've had enough, Kate," he sighs tiredly. "Where were you?"

"I just told you, I was—."

"You've been going out for fresh air at odd hours of the day for the past month. You'd think you'd have your fill by now."

Kate fidgets. "Well, it hasn't just been out to get fresh air. I've been attending engagements. I have a life outside you and this household, you know."

"Oh, I know that, but your engagements don't usually take place after dark and don't require you sneaking out of the house to attend."

"Darling, everything is fine," Kate says, pulling her arm out of his reach and giving him a nervous smile. "You've probably been working too hard. Let's go to bed."

As she tries to walk away again, Anthony pulls her back. But this time, he holds onto both of her arms, forcing her to meet his eye.

"Kate, I know you—perhaps more than you know yourself, and I know when you're lying to me," he says, his voice turning softer—more fragile. It's as if he's a vase that could shatter at any moment. "What I don't know is why."

"I promise that what I have been going out and doing is not anything scandalous or dangerous." After letting out a long breath, a laugh bubbles from her throat in amusement. "Honestly, where I've been going to is nothing to fret over. You're acting as if I'm having an affair or something."

Anthony's heart sinks in his chest. No matter how ridiculous the prospect sounds, he can't help but whisper the question that's been plaguing his mind these past few weeks.

"Are you?"

Kate's mouth falls open, her face paling. "Anthony, how could you think that?"

"It's the only explanation I can think of," he says, stepping away from her and beginning to pace. "It explains why you've been coming back so late and being so evasive these past few weeks."

"Anthony—."

His legs go weak at the affection in her voice. Anthony falls to his knees in front of her and takes hold of her hands.

"Just tell me, Kate, I cannot bear it," Anthony says, hating the way his voice wavers. "I cannot bear the thought of you finding pleasure in someone else's arms. I cannot bear you leaving our bed because you'd rather be in another's. I cannot bear the idea of someone else touching you, loving you, or kissing you."

He brushes his lips against Kate's knuckles, causing her breath to hitch. Anthony pulls his lips away, but just so his fingertips can swirl circles on her palm. When his thumb skims over her pulse, he feels her heartbeat quicken.

"Most of all, I cannot bear the thought of you loving someone else." Anthony swallows thickly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "I'd die right now if you told me all of this was true."

Anthony has always feared time. He used to compulsively reach into his pocket to grasp his father's watch. Each time a hand on the clock ticked forward, he felt as if an ounce of his soul got sucked away.

But since Kate came into his life, that fear has dissipated. Suddenly, he didn't spend each moment of his life calculating how much time he had left. Instead, Anthony began counting things other than seconds.

He counts the number of Kate's smiles. He counts the number of laughs they share next to one another at the table surrounded by his family. Anthony counts the number of kisses that were slow, stirring an aching feeling in his chest. He also counts each hungry and passionate kiss that sets every inch of his skin aflame.

Most of all, Anthony counts how many times he's lost count around her. He gets lost in the timeless and wonderful enigma that is Kate Sharma.

Anthony feels that fear of time creeping up on him again. But now, he's not afraid of time passing and leading to his demise. Instead, he's terrified that Kate's time of loving him has run out. Maybe, she's found a more deserving man to spend the minutes with than him.

When Anthony braves a glance up at Kate, he expects to see pity. But instead, he's surprised to see an entirely different emotion reflected in her eyes.

Love.

Pure, unconditional, steadfast love.

Kate gets down to her knees in front of him. But she doesn't let go of his hands, holding them tighter.

"None of that is true, Anthony," she says firmly. "I love you, have only loved you, and will only love you."

Her words release a breath of relief from him. But, he still can't help doubting this, not knowing how else to explain her odd disappearances.

Kate must sense his train of thoughts. She smiles gently, moving one of her hands up to graze his cheek.

"I love you so much that I've been waking up in the middle of the night so I can give you the perfect present."

Anthony blinks in confusion, feeling the room that had been spinning become still.

"What?"

Kate laughs, and she rests her forehead against his. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

It hits Anthony like a whip. All the clues that he'd gathered up to form a horrible conclusion were, in fact, clues that lead to a more justifiable and pleasant one.

"Our anniversary," he answers dumbly.

"Yes," she nods, her face beaming with a giddy kind of delight. Anthony feels lucky that he gets to see it. Her expressions are free without restraint only when she's comfortable with someone. He's glad to be one of those treasured few. "We've made it a year, can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday, I was stepping on your toes at a ball, and you acted like a madman when I got stung by a bee."

Anthony frowns, his forehead creasing. "I did not act like a madman."

"You did, but it led us to where we are now," Kate says, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Married and happy."

"I'd like to think it would've happened with the bee or not."

"I'm not sure. You were quite thick-headed about how in love with me you were."

"Oh, I'm the thick-headed one?" he scoffs. "After the night you fell in love with me, you gave your approval for me to marry your sister. How thick-headed is that?"

"Well, I didn't think you'd ever feel that way about me," Kate defends, rolling her eyes. "But I know very well now that you do. You show me with every kind word, every touch, every…" her words drift, cheeks reddening, "Well, you know."

Anthony smirks. "No, I do not know. Please elaborate on everything I do to you that gives you pleasure in vivid detail."

"You're insufferable," she grumbles and puts her hands on her hips. "I have a good mind not to tell you the true reason for my disappearing and keep you stewing in jealousy."

"I don't think you'd like the result of my increased jealousy."

"I don't know, your scowl was fierce, and the fire in your eyes was quite the sight," Kate teases, tracing her thumb over his furrowed brows. "Very becoming, actually."

Anthony stands and pulls her up with him, leading her to the couch. "Why have you been disappearing?"

"As I said, our anniversary is tomorrow, and I was getting your gift ready," she explains. "It's almost midnight. Perhaps I can give it to you a little bit early. I had one of the servants waiting outside for my return. They came in through the back entrance and have already snuck it into your study to reveal as a surprise for tomorrow."

"How sinister of you, plotting with our staff against me."

"Nothing sinister about it. I asked, and they agreed to help me. Unlike you, they think I'm perfectly agreeable."

"Obviously, they don't know you well enough to fear the wicked inner workings of your mind as I do."

Kate stands, gracefully sticking out her tongue and making him laugh. Anthony follows her down the hall into his study. She makes him close his eyes. He feels like a fool, stumbling into the room with Kate chuckling behind him. But, he feels guilty for thinking Kate could ever be unfaithful and indulges her wishes.

He waits for a few moments, hearing her moving something across the floor, before he asks, "Can I open my eyes now?"

"Alright, you bloody impatient man, open your eyes."

As Anthony takes his hands away from his eyes, his heart stops in his chest. He gawks at the painting on a canvas stand in front of him.

"Kate," he utters breathlessly.

Kate chews on her bottom lip, hesitantly watching him observe the painting—no, "painting" doesn't seem like the right word for what it is.

It's a masterpiece, an almost perfect depiction of Kate.

The artist captured the exact fraction that Kate's lips tilt up when she smiles in amusement. Anthony often sees that expression pointed towards him when they're engaged in one of their bantering matches. The color of her brown eyes is just as deep in the painting. They're full of so much that Anthony still wants to explore even after a year of marriage.

In the portrait, Kate's shoulders are bare, the sleeves resting low on her arm. The bottom of the picture shows the scarlet bodice of her dress. But the most alluring part is how the brown curls of her hair flow freely down her neck, cascading like a waterfall.

Anthony has a strong distaste for her bonnets and how society demands she wears her hair up in public. Anthony loves running his fingers through her hair, which probably is why she posed for the painting with it down. That minx knew it would stir a feeling within him that no one else but her has been able to elicit.

"I hired Sir Granville to paint it," Kate blurts out, nervous from how long he's remained silent. "I wanted him to paint it in a private setting because it's a bit…."

"Breathtaking," Anthony answers.

"I was going to say suggestive, but breathtaking is a good adjective," Kate grins bashfully. She steps towards him, her eyes glowing through the dim light of the room. "It's a portrait for your eyes only, no one else's."

Anthony ducks his head. "I'm sorry that I thought you were...I just—."

"Foolishly got jealous of a person who doesn't exist? Yes, yes, you did."

He runs his fingers against the frame of the painting. "I have a mind to hang this in the common area, so everyone can see how lucky I am."

Kate's eyebrows snap together. "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he asks playfully.

"It might encourage some men to meet the woman behind the painting," Kate notes with a mischievous glint in her eyes, pretending to consider his proposal. "Who am I to oppose admirers?"

Anthony's smirk fades. "You wouldn't dare."

"Ah, there's that handsome scowl," Kate points at him in triumph.

He swoops forward, his arms going around her waist. "You're maddening."

Kate's smile widens as she looks up at him, looping her hands around his neck. "You love it."

"You're right. I do love you. And, I love this portrait," Anthony adds, bobbing his head towards the painting. "Perhaps I should hang it in here. It can serve as a reminder of what's waiting for me when I finish my work."

She leans up a bit on her toes, her hands traveling lower down his back. "You know, I could come down to your study to remind you."

Anthony begins moving his hands as well. As they skim up her body, brushing her breast, he relishes in the sound of her moan. Anthony leans closer, pressing kisses down her neck until he gets to just the right spot. Kate's fingers curl tighter onto his back as his lips apply pressure there, and her body gravitates further against him.

"You're far too distracting," Anthony murmurs against her skin. "Perhaps, the portrait is too dangerous to be in here. I'd get nothing done."

"Exactly." She leans her face back a margin, so Anthony can see that enchanting tilt of her lips the artist depicted. "Why do you think I commissioned the painting in the first place?"

"To torture me?"

"All is fair in love and war," Kate says, grinning at him. "And hasn't our relationship always been a bit of both?"

In response, Anthony kisses her deeply and thoroughly. The sound of his pocket watch ticking starts to fade away. It gets replaced with the sound of his heart, which beats for Kate more than himself these days.