#this student was a bump on a log

[itspileofgoodthings]

I told you guys about my stupidest most non-literary student who fell in love with pride and prejudice right? one of my favorite things that has ever happened.

[another-lost-mc]

Welcome Home: When MC returns from the past.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

SFW // Content: Bittersweet angst with a happy ending. It's implied that MC has been gone for a significant amount of time and that the demon brothers spiraled after MC disappeared. Includes mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms including: drinking; implied self-isolation, depression; destructive or violent behaviour; mention of blood/injuries; mentions of Lesson 16 events. 6.9k words.

Read The Worst Goodbye (part one) here.

LUCIFER

Lucifer glances at the clock on his desk and sighs wearily, rubbing the heel of his palms against his eyes.

He already knows it’s going to be another long night of forcing himself to focus on filling out paperwork, on preparing student council memos and the countless other tasks he’s taken upon himself since you disappeared.

A cursed record plays quietly and the fire in the hearth crackles each time a log shifts or splinters. 

A nearly-empty glass of Demonus leaves a rim of condensation on the dark wood desk. He used to keep track of the days that have passed in your absence, but now he counts the empty bottles of that bittersweet amber drink instead.

It’s not only his own vices that weigh heavily on his mind; his brothers aren’t faring any better without you. Their behaviour swings wildly from bored indifference to reckless abandon. He’s not sure what’s worse: forcing them from their rooms when some of them refuse to go to class or work (or eat and bathe or shower), or dealing with their chaos when they decide to replace grief and misery with the wicked temptations and misdeeds of their sins.

You would be disappointed in them, he thinks. You would be disappointed in them all.

But what else can they possibly do while they wait for some glimmer of hope that you’ll come home again?

He remembers the tense conversation he had with Diavolo about your situation after you disappeared with barely a hint of warning. All he had were Solomon’s vague assurances of your eventual return to comfort him.

Lucifer listened to Diavolo’s insufficient apologies and condolences, but he couldn’t help but glance at Barbatos whose sharp gaze was at odds with the neutral expression on his face. He wondered how much the butler knew about your misfortune, and he’s wondered since then if he should’ve fought harder to force him to bring you back from wherever you were.

Now he passes his time with busywork because he has no one to remind him not to work. He drinks too much to dull the pain in his head and his heart. He sleeps on the couch in his office, or sometimes he slumps on his desk when exhaustion consumes him, because it’s better than lying in his large, empty bed alone.

It shouldn’t have surprised Lucifer that Cerberus eventually realized you were gone too. He went to the family tomb one evening, startled awake by three mournful howls that shook the foundations of the house. He used the bit of magic that gave Cerberus a manageable house-friendly size and without warning, the dog ran past him up the stairs. When Lucifer found him again, the three-headed dog was whining pitifully and pawing at your bedroom door. 

Lucifer hadn’t entered your room since you left, but he had to prove that you weren’t there. That didn’t stop his hound from searching the rest of the house before returning to Lucifer’s side, ears drooping and each head whining in confusion as they bumped against his legs.

Cerberus has barely left his side since, trailing after him and sleeping in front of the fire while Lucifer’s pen scratches quietly across the papers on his desk.

Lucifer contemplates giving up on his work for the night and resting on the sofa, but he frowns when Cerberus stands up suddenly and trots across the room. The door must not have been closed tight because he nudges the door open with one of his snouts. All three heads tilt curiously and he sniffs noisily. Lucifer rises from his chair with a curse when the hound bolts out of the room, howling as he runs out of the library and into the dark hallway past.

Lucifer’s steps are slow and clumsy at first as he shakes off his desperate need for sleep, but he needs to catch the noisy creature first. The last thing he wants to deal with right now is his brothers waking up in the middle of the night in foul moods and causing even more of a ruckus.

The dog’s strange howling stops somewhere near the front of the house, and Lucifer freezes when he turns the corner just in time to see Cerberus knock someone to the floor.

You.

He knocked you to the floor so each of his heads could yip excitedly and lick at your face. When you laugh and try to push the animal away, Cerberus plops down on your legs and seems content to keep you trapped there.

Lucifer, staring wide-eyed and speechless, takes a hesitant step, and then another, before breaking into a run.

It’s not long after that when each of his brothers each stumble drowsily into the hallway, grumbling and snarling and glaring because of the loud disturbance that woke them from their sleep.

Their tempers die down and it's utter chaos when they process the sight in front of them: Lucifer chuckling while you hold each other in the middle of the hallway floor near your bedroom, the Avatar of Pride wearing a rare smile and with even rarer tears shining in his eyes, and Cerberus panting happily nearby as if he was the one who brought you home for his grumpy master to find.

MAMMON

Mammon spins in a slow circle where he dangles from the dining room ceiling. The rope binding his hands behind his back doesn't budge no matter how hard he tries to rip it apart and set himself free.

"Yo, someone get me down from here, will ya? All this spinning's makin' me dizzy!"

But he knows it's useless. None of his brothers will test Lucifer's short fuse by setting Mammon free, and there aren't any brave humans around to help him anymore.

"It wasn't even that bad. I swear I was gonna return it..." Mammon grumbles to himself. So what if he's gotten a little reckless lately? He's no worse than his brothers are, but that arrogant prat Lucifer doesn't tie them up like this.

He braces himself for a long, boring day, spinning for hell knows how long, until Lucifer remembers to set him free.

"Oh no. Mammon. What did you do to upset him this time?"

His body jerks when he hears—thinks he hears a familiar voice. He recognizes the silhouette of the shadow that stands in the doorway briefly before stepping towards him, but he shakes his head like it’ll make the illusion fade away.

That's gotta be his imagination, right?

"You son of a—this is a cheap shot, even for you," Mammon snarls, cursing Lucifer for teasing him with an illusion of all things. Why else would you suddenly appear before him like a dream - or a nightmare - except to taunt him?

Isn't suffering without you punishment enough?

“Here, let me help you…” The voice is quieter now, but close. Gentle hands tug uselessly at the cursed rope holding him in place and he clenches his eyes shut tight and reminds himself that you’re not here.

But then he recognizes the sound of a tongue clicking in frustration, the barely-audible murmurs about Lucifer needing to loosen up, and he crumples in a heap on the floor when a spell he doesn’t recognize causes the ropes to vanish without a trace.

He bumps into someone’s legs when he rolls over, but he doesn’t get up. He throws an arm over his eyes instead.

It's not you, it's not you, it's not you—

But he grunts when a heavy weight suddenly plops down on top of him and he can’t help but breathe deep when a familiar scent tickles his nose. It makes him shiver, gives him hope, and he whimpers.

You nudge his arm aside so you can cup his cheeks in your palms and force him to look at you. Your thumbs swipe away the tears that slip from the corner of his eyes; you're not sure if the sound that rips from his throat is a sob or a laugh.

He stares at you for a long time before he speaks again, and for the first time in ages, he feels something other than pain.

"Don't you dare think of leavin' me behind the next time you decide to disappear like that," he threatens. There's no heat in his voice, only slow acceptance and relief that you're finally back where you belong—with him.

He crushes you against his chest in a tight hug while you whisper apologies into the crook of his neck, and you stay that way - curled together in the middle of the dining room floor - until the others find you later.

LEVIATHAN

Thump-thump-thump.

Levi's TV across the room drones on quietly, a random anime DVD playing on repeat for the dozenth time, but he doesn't pay attention to it.

Thump-thump-thump.

Levi's computer pings faintly, barely audible over the hum of Henry's aquarium. He hasn't sat at his desk in ages, he hasn't logged in for any of his gaming events or guild raids and he stopped keeping track of what his favourite idols are up to. Notifications on his social media accounts and emails are ignored and left unread.

Thump-thump-thump.

His D.D.D. vibrates somewhere in the tangled mess of blankets and pillows underneath him but he ignores that too. It's probably Lucifer reminding him that he needs to go to class sometime this week.

Unlike his brothers, Levi's not going to pretend he's fine.

He hasn't been fine for a long time.

Thump-thump-

A knock on his door startles him and his tail stops thrumming against the side of his porcelain tub. He pokes his head out from the nest of blankets he buried himself in and glares at the door across the room. The orange of his irises flare in a menacing glow from underneath the hood pulled over his head, the drawstrings chewed and frayed ages ago.

Everyone knows not to bother him. It was a very simple request.

Are they stupid?

He pulls himself out of the tub with his teeth bared. Maybe a little scuffle with one of his nosy siblings will make him feel better—will make him feel something.

He yanks the door open but freezes when he recognizes you, standing in front of him as if you didn't vanish from his life without a trace. Your knuckles are raised like you were about to knock again, and you rock back and forth on your heels as you lower your hand in embarrassment.

Levi's mouth flaps open and shut, but before you can say anything, he lets out a high-pitched squeak and slams the door shut in your face.

That's not the worst reaction you imagined, so you consider it a win.

You press your ear against the door. There's shuffling inside his room, the faint sounds of something hitting the sides of his tub. You knock again softly to warn him before you push the door open and let yourself inside.

Aside from the glow from the aquarium, his room is dark and suffocating. You step gingerly over the piles of books and movies strewn haphazardly across the floor; he never used to be so careless with his collections. An empty food wrapper crinkles under your foot and you hope he hasn't been surviving only on his private stash of imported candy.

There's a familiar lumpy shape laying across the bottom of the tub when you peer over the edge. His sniffles are muffled by the blankets and pillows he's hiding under. The only part of him you can see is his tail that dangles limply over the side.

You sit down next to his tail, careful not to touch it in case he doesn't want you to. It was always a sensitive part of himself and he didn't like others touching it so freely; you're not sure he'll grant you that privilege again anytime soon.

"Levi?"

His tail twitches at the sound of your voice. He doesn't say anything, but his eyes peer out from a gap in his little hideaway. There's a lot of emotion swirling in the gaze that narrows at you suspiciously: pain, confusion, anger—all tempered with the tiniest bit of hope.

You lean forward and press your hand against him where you think the curve of his shoulder is. You're gentle enough that he can ignore it or shake you off if he wants. His body deflates under your hesitant touch like he finally let go of the breath he's been holding for so long. He blinks at you, eyes widening as he dares himself to believe you're actually there. More of his face peeks out at you when he slowly peels the blanket away.

"I'm back." The words croak out of you, and your voice is watery like the tears that sting your eyes. His only response is a wounded noise he makes at the back of his throat. You recognize it instantly—you made sounds just like it when you were first torn away from here. Away from him.

You know you have so much to explain and apologize for, and you don't even know where to start, but before you can say anything else, his tail coils around your wrist. You tumble forward when he pulls you down into the tub with him. His arms and legs and tail curl themselves around you, and if you didn't miss him as much as you did, you might complain about how uncomfortable it is.

He mumbles apologies into your chest because he was convinced that whatever happened to you was his fault somehow.

You spend a long time trying to reassure him it wasn't his fault at all.

SATAN

As soon as you get your bearings, stumbling in your room where the portal suddenly dropped you, you want to see Satan. You need to see him.

You love him. You missed him. You worried about him, and you worried for him. He might not always show his rage or act on his violent impulses with you anymore, but you can only imagine what he must've felt when you disappeared.

You saw what he was like before—young, lost, bewildered and so unspeakably angry—and you need to see for yourself what's happened since your untimely absence.

It's disorienting trying to make your way out of your bedroom. It's dark and a bit dusty, and the furniture isn't quite where you left it. You bump your knee and trip more than once making your way to the door. The knob sticks as if it hasn't been opened in ages.

Part of you pushes down the sting that maybe the brothers abandoned your room completely and tried to pretend you didn't exist since you’ve been gone.

(If you could see better in the near darkness, you'd know that most of your bookshelves and drawers are almost empty, picked clean by each of the siblings who took your belongings to keep in their rooms instead.)

Nothing can prepare you for what you find when you head up the stairs to the second floor and stop in front of Satan’s door, or what's left of it. There's giant gashes in the wood and you're careful not to scratch your arm on the sharp splinters where claws (or perhaps his tail) broke through it.

You used to tease Satan about the stacks of books he kept on the floor, organized chaos to anyone but him because he could tell you exactly where each and every book was kept. There's no wobbly piles of books on the floor to stumble into now. Broken book spines and torn pages litter the ground beneath your feet, and you can feel the crunch of glass that you assume are the remains of his old lanterns. Even his bed is barely recognizable—the mattress is ripped to shreds and the frame is bent and disjointed.

His bedroom is the embodiment of the fury deep inside him when he realized you were gone. Missing. Taken. And for all his power and his intelligence and wit, even he couldn't find a way to bring you back.

It wasn't your fault either, but faced with the evidence of his misery, you can't help but feel guilty.

You leave his room and in your daze, your feet lead you to the library next. There's a small part of you that fears Satan might've laid waste to another precious room in the house, but there's a flickering light underneath the doorway and you're hopeful it might be intact after all.

Like your room, the library's not quite the same as it was before. The shelves aren't as orderly, as if whoever's been reading the books and ancient tomes couldn't be bothered to put them back properly. There's a small stack of dishes piled on the table near the sofa—a strange sight because everyone knows it bothers Satan if they eat or drink in here. He hated the idea of spills or greasy fingerprints ruining the books by accident. Next to the sofa, a pile of books catches your eye because they're yours, taken from the bookshelves in your room. The spines are creased as if they've been read over and over again, acting as a poor replacement for your company.

There's a soft groan and you suddenly notice the figure laid back on the sofa. A familiar tuft of Satan's blonde hair rests on your pillow and your blanket spills over his legs and waist and onto the floor. The library is his temporary room, the sofa a makeshift bed where he keeps reminders of you close by, and he breathes deeply while he sleeps. His brow is creased as if he's unhappy even in his dreams.

You take a step forward and debate whether you should wake him up or not when the air shifts around you.

He moves faster than you can track with your eyes, launching himself off the couch and pinning you to the floor before you can even stutter out his name. His emerald gaze flickers with fiery rage, his hot breath fanning across your face, and his chest rumbles with a deep, predatory warning. His tail rises menacingly behind him and your throat runs dry at the very real threat hovering over you.

"S-Satan..."

It's almost comical, the way his eyes widen with recognition when you stutter out his name. He drinks in your appearance and by the time he scrambles off you and his demon form is gone. When he was confident in his anger moments ago, now he hesitates when he reaches out to you. He's not sure if you're really there or simply a mirage, the remnants of a dream he wishes he didn't have to wake up from.

As soon as you open your arms to him, he's in your embrace and nearly topples you both over in his haste to be close to you. His hands smooth up your arms and he cradles your jaw, tilting your head slowly as he checks for any sign of injury. He bumps his nose against yours when he's satisfied that you're unharmed, whether by his own hand or from someone else's, and he smiles a bit sheepishly when you do.

"I'm sorry I scared you."

"I'm sorry I left you."

He seems content holding you on the library floor, nuzzling against your temple and inhaling the familiar scent of your skin. It's such a simple thing, but he enjoys it.

He hasn't felt this relaxed in ages.

"I saw your room." You're not sure why you blurt that out of all the things you could talk about instead. "I went there first to find you."

He clears his throat and turns away as pink dusts his cheeks. "Ah, well...I might've gone overboard." He's quiet for a moment before he looks at you, feigning a look of innocence that poorly masks the amusement underneath. "If I told you it was Lucifer's fault, would you believe me?"

Laughter bubbles out of you and he chuckles too. "Not a chance! But I'll help you no matter whose fault it was. There's nothing we can't fix together, right?"

"I'd like that," he murmurs against your cheek. 

ASMODEUS

Asmo was heading to the kitchen when he crashed into someone coming out of your bedroom. His arms flailed wildly at his sides while he tried to keep his balance and stop himself from toppling over. He ran his fingers through the curtain of hair that fell into his eyes, and the venomous anger pouring from his mouth came to a screeching halt when he realized the person he bumped into was you.

Your eyes were wide with shock, but you couldn't decide what surprised you more: colliding with your beloved demon after so many dreary days forced apart, or the anger that poured from him in waves.

"I'm back," you explained dumbly. Obviously. But he blinked his eyes rapidly like he wouldn't believe it.

"How?! I mean, when did you—?"

Whatever he was going to say next caught in his throat as his eyes flitted over your appearance. His gaze was critical, honing in on the smallest little details, the things that are different from the way you looked when he last saw you. Something about your hands gets his attention, and he holds them both gently in his palms.

"Oh, hon, who's been helping you with your nails? The polish is chipped."

His mood shifts so rapidly that it gives you whiplash, and you glance down at your fingers. Maybe it has been a few days, and sure, they might look a little worse for wear, but you're baffled that he noticed that of all things.

"Well, technically, you've been doing them for me." You smile gently at the joke because his past self was just as attentive to your needs and loved taking care of you in the simplest ways.

It might be the wrong thing to admit out loud, though. The guarded look Asmo gives you is so cold, so detached that the amusement fades from your expression.

"The least I can do is help clean these up for you now that you're back, hmm?" His voice is loud and a bit shrill, cracking on some of the words. He spins on his heel and tugs on your hand as he heads towards the staircase.

He doesn't notice - or maybe he just doesn't care - that the commotion reached the dining room. His brothers stumble into the hallway and you can't make out anything they're saying as they all rush towards you and try to talk over each other.

A terrifying growl rips through the hallway and startles them all into silence. it makes your skin crawl because you know the sound came from Asmo. His brothers don't seem impressed by him attempting to keep you to himself when you've just returned, but his aura crackles with something menacing and even Lucifer thinks twice about trying to stop him.

"We'll talk to you after you've had a moment to catch up in private," he suggests loudly. Asmo huffs in annoyance but his pace doesn't falter. He holds your hand tightly in his grip and you have little choice but to follow him up the steps towards his room. You shoot Lucifer and his brothers an apologetic glance before they disappear from view.

You're nearly at the top of the steps when a flurry of movement on the ground startles you. Familiar black shapes weave between your legs and snap teasingly at your ankles. You curl against Asmo's back with a nervous little yelp.

"They won't hurt you, you know that," he reminds you with a coo, and there's a gentle cadence to his voice that reminds you so much of the demon you missed all this time. He winks at you over his shoulder before he looks down at the scorpion familiars skittering on the floor, each of them radiating the faint pink glow of his power. "They'll make sure my brothers don't bother us."

As soon as Asmo ushers you into his room, he steers you gently towards his bed. The smile curling his lips looks strained. "Wait for a moment, darling, I'm going to—"

You reach for the sleeve of his dressing gown and stop him from leaving to do whatever he had planned. "Asmo, wait." You pat the bed. "I don't care about that right now. My nails can wait until later."

He bites his lip and his eyes are glassy as they fill with tears. He sniffles a little under his breath and wipes his face with his sleeve. "But I'm the one who's supposed to take care of you, not—" he looks away as his cheeks turn splotchy. "It's not fair that he was there for you when you belong here with me." He bites his bottom lip when it starts to quiver and he chokes out a sob. "I missed you so much."

You glance around his bedroom and his strange behaviour starts to make sense when you notice all the small things he's changed while you've been gone.

His vanity and closets are cluttered and not organized flawlessly like usual.

Your eyes pause on a strange, heart-shaped stain on his vanity mirror that you’re too nervous to ask about right now.

(In a moment of frustration, he smashed his fist into the glass the first night you disappeared. He repaired it with magic but smears of blood remained even when the cracks in the mirror vanished. He drew the little heart with his fingertip while he whispered your name like he thought it might summon you back to him, and he cried when it didn’t.)

His bed smells like the fragrance you normally wear, something you brought with you from the human world and he claimed he didn't like very much.

He removed his pillow cases and slipped some of your shirts over his pillows instead.

You wonder how you didn't realize sooner that the dressing gown he's wearing is yours, one of many gifts he gave you after you started dating.

His room is filled with your belongings, things he clung desperately to while he hoped and begged for you to come back to him.

"I think tonight we should take care of each other then, don't you?"

You hold your hand out to him, and it only takes a moment for him to stumble over to the bed. He gathers you in his arms and holds you so tightly that it's hard to breathe, like he's scared to let you go. You tangle your fingers in his clothes because you're just as needy as he is.

He whimpers your name against your neck,  interspersed with little kisses that are featherlight but still enough to make your head spin; your tears roll down your cheeks and mix with his, and they're wet and salty on his lips. He murmurs an inaudible mantra as he drags his mouth over your jaw so he can kiss you properly, and it leaves you both breathless.

—I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

The others aren't surprised at all when you and Asmo lock yourselves away in his room 'til morning. 

BEELZEBUB

The joy of returning home turns bitter in your heart when you realize Beel isn't there. His brothers are in the dining room and hear the noise when the portal unceremoniously drops you in the middle of your bedroom floor. They hear a thump and a soft oof! and by the time they scramble out of their seats and into the hall, you're already stumbling through the door and rubbing the soreness from your back.

The weight of six demons attempting to hug you drags you back down to the floor, but this time you're cushioned in someone's lap and suddenly the floor doesn't seem all that bad. Even though you're being squeezed within an inch of your life and they're all talking (and crying and stuttering) over each other, their voices are similar yet so different from the ones you heard in the past, you can't bring yourself to care.

By the time they quiet down to give you a chance to get a word in, you're hugged and warmed and loved like you haven't been in a long time.

The only thing that's bittersweet about your long-awaited reunion is Beel's absence.

"He's at Fangol practice," Belphie says. His voice is slightly muffled since he can't seem to stop nuzzling your shoulder. "He should be home soon."

Asmo's fingers are already tapping quickly across his D.D.D. "I tried calling already but he didn't answer. He'll want to know you're back."

"He might not see the message in the middle of practice," Lucifer warns him from somewhere at your back. "Perhaps one of us should go get him?"

There's a tinkling ping not long after and Asmo waves his phone in your face, but you can't possibly read it.

"Ha! And you thought it would be a waste of time, hmm? Well, I'll have you know that Beel said...'ok'? Huh." Asmo winces when disappointment flickers across your face at Beel's lack-of response. "I'm sure he's excited to see you! You know he's not very fond of texting."

"I think I'll wait for him in his room." The brothers slowly detangle themselves from you and return to the dining room to give you some privacy. They might not like it, but they know that something happened between you and Beel before you disappeared.

You turn around at the sound of footsteps jogging behind you and see Belphie trying to catch up. "I didn't want to say anything with the others around," he says quietly, "but you don't have anything to worry about. I already know he's rushing home to see you even if he didn't say he was."

"How can you be so sure?" You sniffle quietly and stare at your feet. "We had the worst fight before I—before what happened, and he was so angry."

Belphie glances at you over his shoulder as he pushes open the door to the bedroom he shares with his twin. “Trust me when I say that he’s not angry anymore, alright?”

You step into the room behind Belphie and instantly glance at the side of the room where Beel sleeps. You didn’t realize that your bed was stripped before but your pillows and blankets ended up on his bed. There are framed photos of you and Beel on his bedside table, and the sign you made for his last Fangol game - the one you missed when you disappeared - is hanging on the wall. 

“I can’t believe he kept that,” you whisper. The bright, sparkly paint spells out Beel’s name and jersey number in large, bubbly writing. The edges of the poster board are frayed and bent, but it’s obvious he tried to preserve it.

Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him after all.

Thundering steps outside catch your attention and you turn around in time to see Beel lean against the doorway like he sprinted home.

There are bags from Hell’s Kitchen hanging from Beel’s arm but Belphie hops off his bed and plucks the bags from his brother with a hum. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for later.” He pauses and gives his brother a pointed look, nodding not-too-discreetly in your direction, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

You’re not sure how long you stare at each other. His eyes take greedily over your face and body and he frowns like he’s scrutinizing your appearance, trying to see how—if—you’ve changed, searching out any potential injuries you might be hiding and how he can punish those responsible.

Likewise, you take in his field-worn appearance, the grass stains and dirt that clings to his uniform and skin. His hair is matted down and he smells strongly of evening dew and sweat. 

He’s filthy and grimy but you’ve never wanted him more in your life.

He grunts when you nearly launch yourself into his arms. Maybe later he’ll feel guilty about ruining your clothes with mud from the Fangol pitch, but when he breathes in deep and soaks in the familiar scent of your skin, all those insignificant problems melt away.

“I brought dinner for us,” he murmurs quietly as his cheek nuzzles against you. “If you don’t mind putting up with seeing me like this a little bit longer, I’d like to eat with you before I shower.” His chapped lips brush over your brow. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You cup his cheek and offer him a bright and teary-eyed smile. “And you know what? I think I’m starving.”

It’s not long after that containers of your favorite takeout are spread out on the dining room table. The others have vanished, probably at Belphie’s insistence, and you’re grateful to have this quiet time together.

If you end up in his lap while he practically feeds you, sneaking little tastes for himself with lingering kisses he presses gently to your mouth, that’s no one else’s business but yours and his.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie can't remember the last time he's gone this long without a proper night's sleep. When his brothers have trouble sleeping, plagued by haunted memories and their most insidious fears, he can put their minds at ease.

He tells himself it's a selfish gesture, because if his brothers' dreams are too vivid or too disturbing or too terrible for him to ignore, he can't sleep either.

The truth is, he doesn't want them to suffer.

Unfortunately, the Avatar of Sloth has no such saviour to save him from his own bad dreams. He can't call them nightmares because that's not what they are. They're fragments of memory and echoes of his deepest desires that plague him every time he closes his eyes.

More often than not, his brothers’ dreams are haunted by the ghost of you that disappeared without a trace. Every night when someone dreams of you, Belphie dreams of you too.

It reminds him of the cold, slippery sensation the night that your consciousness was dragged away into the unknown. The place in his dreamscape where your little pond of dreams and nightmares used to be is a black void in his subconscious, a gaping wound in his mind that rivals the empty spot in his bed where you used to sleep. Your warmth is gone and it leaves his sheets and heart bitter-cold.

Today, Belphie wakes up from a rowdy disturbance coming from somewhere else in the house.

His brothers can be so loud sometimes.

The voices downstairs that wake him quiet into an excited hush when they notice his arrival.

"Belphie!" Asmo cries happily when he reaches the bottom of the attic stairs and steps out into the hallway. "We were about to come wake you—look who's finally come back to us!"

Whatever his brother yammers on about next is drowned out by the static ringing in his ears; Belphie stares at the awkward group hug on the floor in front of him and has no idea what to say.

You looked a little embarrassed sitting in Lucifer's lap while Mammon clings to one arm and Levi holds the other. Your eyes are bright and watery with tears and a wobbly smile tugging at the corner of your lips when you realize he was there.

A trembling hand reaches out to him, uncertain but inviting. A hopeful gesture.

Countless times, Belphie imagined what he might do or say if–when–you finally came home. He was ready to spill his guts at your feet and beg you not to leave him like that ever again. He would apologize over and over again for all the terrible things he’s said and done before because he couldn't help thinking this was somehow his fault.

For reasons he can’t explain, unexplainable anger rises inside him and smothers the impulse to celebrate your return. The desperate urge to crawl into your lap and cling to you fizzles into nothing the longer he stares at you.

You know how badly he sleeps when you're not cuddled in bed next to him. It’s your fault he feels so awful, isn’t it?

He can only imagine what he looks like now, with his bedhead hair and pouty lips and the flaky crust of dried tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes. He rubs his face to wipe away the remnants with sleep, but he feels the familiar sting of hot tears building up instead.

Your love has made a terrible mess of him, and he’s not ready for this after all.

Someone shouts after him when he turns on his heel and heads back up the attic stairs without a word. He keeps walking and ignores the soft, wounded noise behind him; his brothers were quick to try and comfort you where he cannot.

"Let's give him a bit of space," someone suggests quietly. 

Slamming the attic door doesn’t feel as satisfying as Belphie hoped it would. He collapses back onto the bed and throws the blanket over his head. He tosses and turns and by the time he falls into another restless sleep, he still can't decide whether he's relieved or devastated that you didn't follow him.

It's deep in the twilight hours when Belphie senses a familiar dip of the mattress when someone slips into bed beside him. He tries to stay submerged in the weightless realm of sleep, but the sudden warmth of a hand resting hesitantly on his back ruins that plan.

"Isn't there someone else you can bother?" he grumbles into the pillow. He fell asleep face down and he stubbornly refuses to look at you. “Go away.”

"I’m sorry.” A heavy pause. “I couldn't sleep." Your voice is quiet but it shakes with something vulnerable that catches Belphie's attention.

With an indignant huff, he turns his head and pries an eye open and glances your way. The attic is shrouded in darkness but he can still see the downturned frown of your lips. When he rolls onto his side and leans closer, he looks past the watery film that makes your eyes shimmer and notices the dark shadows underneath them that he didn’t notice before.

Exhaustion radiates off you and he can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since you had a proper night’s sleep too.

He doesn’t ask about the things you did while you were gone or the things you saw. He remembers well enough what his own heart was like back then in that murky stretch of time when he clung to rage and hatred to soothe his own despair.

He doesn’t ask if you still have bad dreams about death or monsters that wear his face and sneer as you struggle against the bruising grip around your throat. He feels guilty that maybe he wasn’t there to save you from the version of himself that lurks in your memory.

The stiffness in his bones deflates as the chill from the attic subsides, replaced by the warmth of your body lying close to his. He places his hand tentatively on your waist and when you don’t flinch or move away, he urges you closer.

"I can help if you want," he offers hesitantly, a feeble apology to start to make amends.

But you understand the meaning behind the gesture for what it is: a peace offering for now until you can talk properly later. Considering his reaction earlier, this is more than you could've hoped for.

“I was scared to ask for help at first," you admit quietly when you rest your ear over his heart and sigh as the soft, familiar rhythm thumps deep in his chest. “You were angry earlier and I didn’t want to upset you even more if you weren’t ready to see me yet.”

Belphie ducks his head low and rubs your back as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. The vibration of his noncommittal hum tickles your skin. “I’ll help you sleep tonight so you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

Tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that–

Convinced that he isn’t going to push you away and judging the coy grip of his tail that’s suddenly found itself wrapped around one of your legs, you let yourself lean against him fully with a long, weary sigh. It doesn't take long for your eyes to slip closed or for your breathing to sync with his as he lulls you gently into a peaceful state of rest.

Belphie feels his eyes grow heavy once he’s certain that you’re dreaming peacefully. He does sleep better when you’re here, after all. He’s held you in his arms like this before, far too many times for him to count, but it feels different than he remembers.

Has holding you like this always felt this satisfying, or did he take for granted all those times he dragged you to bed and assumed you'd still be there when he woke up?

He won’t make that mistake again.

"I missed this, you know," he whispers against the soft spot on your throat where your heart beat is strongest, pressing lazy kisses against your skin. He closes his eyes with a satisfied smile even though you don’t respond; the way your body melts against his is proof enough that you missed him too.

Read More: Obey Me Masterlist

[oizysian]

An Eggcellent Boy | Elizabeth Olsen

Summary: Y/N has a school project that she’s deemed stupid, but her partner might just change her perspective on the whole thing.

Word count: 3k

AN: Happy birthday to my number one fan! Thanks for always supporting me ❤️

“Now, listen up, students! Today is a very important day! Today we’ll be giving each senior a sophomore to partner up with for a week to take care of your egg babies.”

A collective groan came from the crowd of high schoolers listening to the announcement. Yet another way to torture the students, I thought as I leafed through the little pamphlet they handed out.

“‘Your baby and you.’ This is so dumb.” I mumbled to myself, stuffing the leaflet into my backpack.

“When you meet with your partner, you must take care of your baby, make a plan for your baby’s care, and log it all in your journals.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to doodle in my notebook, not the slightest bit interested in the project. Who even cared about babies?

“You will meet with your partners and get your eggs today …”

As the Health teacher droned on about the specifics of the project, I zoned out. I had too many other things to worry about other than stressing over some egg. I was failing math and all I wanted was for Tom Sullivan to finally ask me out.

The bell rang and I packed up my things and got ready to head to my next class. I threw my bag over my shoulder and trudged out, nearly bumping into a group of girls walking in the other direction.

I growled under my breath and looked back at them, a blonde girl doing the same and looking back at me. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was beautiful, probably one of those preppy cheerleaders, not someone I’d ever be friends with.

I huffed and continued walking, pretending to be unbothered by the group of girls that no doubt thought they were better than me. I opened the door to my next class and took a seat in the back, not really wanting to be bothered with this class either. I just wasn’t in the mood to be in school.

I took out my notebook and started doodling again, thoroughly done with school for the day. While the English teacher spoke about Shakespeare and the complexities of his work, there was a knock at the door. An aide came in, looked down at her notes, and then called out one name.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

I looked up from my book, hesitating before slipping my notebook into my bag and getting up and following the aide out. She was silent for a moment as we walked before clearing her throat and speaking.

“I’m taking you to meet your project partner and to get your egg.”

It took all my self control to not roll my eyes at her words. This stupid egg thing was getting out of hand.

We walked until we made it to the Health room and she opened the door for me, waiting for me to enter before entering herself. Inside was the girl I saw earlier; the preppy cheerleader. Oh, great, I thought to myself, THIS was going to be my partner?

“Y/N, this is Elizabeth, the senior that’s going to partner up with you for this project.”

“Hi.” I managed to bite out, trying to not sound as disinterested as I actually was.

“Hi!” She greeted me with a bright smile.

Goddamn her, she was beautiful and she was nice.

“Choose your egg, and follow all the guidelines in the pamphlet handed out earlier and you’ll both do fine.”

I looked from Elizabeth to the eggs, which were in cartons on the table. They were literally just … eggs. There was nothing special about them.

“You wanna choose?” I asked her and she nodded, walking over to the table and looking over the eggs before finally picking one from the back.

“What should we name him?”

I blinked at her, my eyes moving from her to the egg in her hands, and shrugged.

“I, uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you choose?”

“We should choose together. ‘Cos it’s our baby.” She said with a smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“How about … James?”

“James? I like it. Little James.” She gave the egg a tickle and my heart melted at the sight.

“Okay, girls, you can go now.” The Health teacher said and we walked out together, standing in the hallway awkwardly.

“I already know what we can put our baby in.” She said proudly, looking down at the egg in her hands.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Let me take him tonight. I’ll bring him in tomorrow and then you can have him, okay?”

I looked at her for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Do you want my number just in case James has an accident?” I teased and she nodded excitedly.

“Of course! I’ll call you if something happens.”

I sighed, waiting for her to get out a piece of paper and a pen so she could write down my number. I didn’t think she’d actually take me up on my offer.

She handed me one of her notebooks and a pen and I flipped it open to a blank page, jotting down my name and number and then handing it back to her.

“Great.” She said as she looked over the page. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N!”

She smiled at me then turned to walk away before turning back.

“When do you have lunch?”

“Fourth period.”

“Perfect, me too. I’ll see you then.”

She gave me a small wave then walked away with James, leaving me in the hallway, staring at her retreating back. What was I getting into?

•

The next day at school almost everyone was paired up or carrying around one of those damned eggs. I had pretty much forgotten all about it since Elizabeth had taken James - the egg. It was an egg, not a baby.

When lunch rolled around, I was pretty exhausted by my previous classes and the idea of working on this egg project. I had Health third period and all we talked about was our eggs.

I grabbed my tray of food and sat down at a table far in the back of the room. I just wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

“Hey!” A cheerful voice greeted me and I looked up to see Elizabeth with a lunchbox of sorts.

“Hey.” I greeted back, poking at my food with my plastic fork.

“I brought James.” She placed the lunchbox on the table and sat down. “You can take him tonight. He’ll be okay.”

I looked at her expectantly, blinking wordlessly.

“Where is he?”

She gently tapped the box and slid it over to me.

“You put it in a lunchbox?”

“It’s a mini cooler!”

I pulled the cooler towards myself and opened it. Inside James was nestled in what looked like a nest, surrounded by little handmade decorations. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She had put so much effort into this and I barely wanted to be bothered.

“It looks great.” I complimented it, closing the cooler over so James could keep cool.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I thought that a cooler would be the best place for him. I’ve already heard some people had their eggs crack because they just put them in a regular old box with no cushions.”

“Guess they already failed the project.”

She nodded, placing her chin in her hand and watched me eat.

“How about we get together after school to work on our paper?”

“We’ve only had him for a day.” I said softly.

“Yeah, but we’re supposed to keep track of him every day for a week.”

“How much can we track? He’s just an egg.”

She giggled and shrugged. She probably thought this project was just as ridiculous as I did. She reached for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out the project pamphlet.

“We still have to give him a face. I figured you could do that tonight. Or we can do it after school together.”

“Together sounds nice.” Why did I say that?

Her cheeks flushed a slight pink hue and she continued to read.

“Then after the week is up, we have to reflect on the project; say if we were good parents or not, and if our feelings about the project changed from beginning to end.”

“This is so dumb.” I let out a chuckle and she nodded.

“I know, but this counts for more than half of our grade.”

I rolled my eyes and put my fork down. At least my partner wasn’t a complete idiot.

“They just want to torture us, forcing us to carry around an egg. An egg.”

“At least he can’t move.”

I nodded in agreement, tapping my fingers on the top of the cooler.

“What else do we have to do?”

“Didn’t you read the pamphlet?” She asked with a smirk and I shook my head.

“I barely even looked at it.”

She smiled and shook her head, looking over the paper in her hand.

“We also need a birth certificate. Do you wanna do that?”

“Sure.” I paused. “In that case, he needs a full name, right? I chose his first name so you can choose the middle.”

She nodded.

“Whose last name should he have? Mine or yours?”

“Why not hyphenate it?”

“That’s a good idea!” She seemed pleased.

The bell rang and she stuffed the paper back into her bag, zipping it up and putting it on her back.

“So, I’ll see you after school? We can meet by the gym.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then.”

She smiled and waved, getting up from the table and leaving. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and looked down at the cooler. Why did she have to be so nice and pretty and smart? Why was this affecting me the way it was? I was straight and she was just my partner for this stupid project.

The rest of the day went by quickly and I couldn’t wait to go home. That was, until I remembered I was going to meet Elizabeth by the gym. Shit.

I trudged over there, James in hand, and waited. It wasn’t long before I realized someone was still inside the gym and I peeked in.

Elizabeth was playing volleyball with another girl. I watched quietly as she confidently struck the ball, making the other girl run and fall trying to hit it back.

She cheered, jumping up and down as the girl got back up.

“You beat me again.” The other girl spoke and Elizabeth nodded happily.

“I have to be competitive. I have three older siblings.”

I smiled, watching her do something she clearly enjoyed and was obviously good at. After she had calmed down, she noticed me, smiling and waving as she made her way over.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry, I got caught up in the game.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Only for fun.” She looked down at the cooler in my right hand. “How was James today?”

“Good?” I was unsure if she was being serious or not. “He’s an eggcellent little angel.”

She slapped my arm playfully, giggling at my awful attempt at a joke.

“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I watched as she walked back into the gym, heading into the locker rooms. Something about her was captivating and I couldn’t deny it. She was kind, beautiful, athletic …

Wait, I was straight. Why was I getting starry eyed over a girl?

“Hey, you okay?” Elizabeth asked and I shook myself out of my head, nodding at her.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I raised up the cooler. “Wanna get started on the paper?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go to the library.”

“Okay,” I gestured for her to walk ahead of me. “Lead the way.”

She walked ahead of me, excitedly making her way down the hall towards the library. I watched as her hips swayed, her backpack hung low on her back, her hair tied in a loose ponytail - just every little detail had me hooked. I did not have a crush. I did not.

She looked back at me and smiled, holding the door open for me to enter first. Admittedly, I had only been in the library once or twice, and never for more than a few minutes. I walked in and waited for her, and she led me towards the back where we sat in a secluded corner.

“Okay. James.” I placed him on the table and she reached over to open his top. “What kind of face should we give you?”

“A happy face. With a blush.”

“That sounds cute.”

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a sharpie.

“Do you wanna do it?” She held out the sharpie to me.

“Sure!”

I took it from her and picked up James carefully, popping off the top, I scribbled on his face, doodling a little happy face with a blush. When I was done, I turned him around so she could see him and she covered her mouth in happiness.

“He’s beautiful!” She carefully took him from my hands and I put the cap back on the sharpie. “Our beautiful son.”

It was my turn to blush. Her words heat up my cheeks, the use of ‘our’ instead of ‘my’ really got to me. I placed the sharpie down and unzipped my backpack, pulling out some paper and a pen.

“Okay, his name. James …”

“Liam.”

“James Liam Y/L/N …” I looked at her expectantly.

“Olsen.

“Olsen. Done. He was born October 26th and his parents are Y/N Y/L/N and Elizabeth Olsen.”

She smiled and nodded excitedly.

“This is perfect. We’ll meet up every day and take notes on James and by the end of the week, we’ll be pro parents.”

We met up every single day at lunchtime and after school, dressing James, taking photos of us and James, and almost acting like a married couple. After a while, we would just talk about ourselves and we got closer and closer as each day went by.

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely developing a crush on Elizabeth. It wasn’t hard. She was perfect. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her as she spoke about her day with James or her family life or the different sporting events she was attending. I knew she couldn’t feel the same way about me, so I just fantasized and kept my feelings to myself. It was just a crush, it would pass.

We were working on our final paper when our hands touched as we both reached for the same pen. We stared at each other for a moment before giggling. I let her take it and dug around in my bag for a spare.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” I hummed as I looked over my notes, flipping through the various pages of actual notes and just doodles.

“I think you’re really funny and really nice.”

“I think you are too.” My brain decided at that moment to malfunction, leaving that as the only response I could muster up.

She smiled and returned her attention to her paper. Did I just reject her? Was she coming onto me? I bit my lip in thought, staring down at the blank page I had flipped to.

“Must be interesting.” She teased and I snapped out of it, looking up at her confused.

“What?”

“Your paper. You’re staring so intently at it.”

I looked from her to the paper and chuckled nervously.

“Ah, yeah, that. Real riveting stuff.”

She shot me one of her dazzling smiles and I felt myself getting deeper and deeper into trouble with her.

I watched as she wrote in her notebook, her tongue pursed between her lips in concentration, her brow furrowed as she scribbled and jotted down her notes.

“Elizabeth …” I said softly, getting her attention.

She looked up at me expectantly and I froze.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“N-nothing. I was just gonna ask how your paper is going.”

“It’s going okay. I’m up to the part where I have to write what I liked most about the project.”

“What did you like the most?” I was curious.

“Working with you.” She said bashfully.

My eyes shined with hope as she looked across the table at me.

“That was my favorite part too.”

“Yeah?” She asked shyly, smiling brightly.

“Yeah. I really like you, Elizabeth.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed at it gently before speaking again.

“Would you … do you wanna get ice cream? After all this?”

Did she just … ask me out? I stared at her for a moment before nodding vigorously.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.

“I guess it’s time to go.”

“Already?” I whined, looking at the clock myself.

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” She chuckled as she packed her things up and I did the same, but slowly; I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

“You can take James.” I said softly, putting my bag on my back. “I know you wanna spend time with him before they take him away.”

“I do.” She smiled and approached me.

I looked up at her and licked my lips nervously. Why was I so nervous? She put her hand on the cooler that was sitting on the table in front of me and then bent her head down, pressing her lips to mine ever so slightly.

It was shock that hit me first. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! Forget about Tom Sullivan - I had Elizabeth Olsen.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her back, smiling when she realized I reciprocated.

We pulled away after a moment and I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that was now plastered on my face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? After school?”

I nodded, “Definitely. After school.”

She took my hand and James and we walked out of the library. This project was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, despite my distaste for it at first.

We walked to the front of the school, hand in hand, and only parted when we had to go our separate ways.

“Tomorrow?” She asked again, nervously and I nodded.

“Tomorrow.”

I gave her a peck on the lips and she lit up, giving me one back before letting go of my hand and walking off towards where she lived. I watched her retreating back and I smiled to myself.

“All because of an egg.”

[studiogrimm810]

Full Moon

pairings/characters: (established) sam winchester x gn!you

summary: after a cramming for finals, a late night walk back to your dorm leads you to discover what sam really left behind before coming to stanford

warnings: werewolf attack, description of creature and it being killed, kinda bloody but not too graphic

word count: 1,971

A/N: quick one shot with minimal editing becuase i LOVE this idea :,)

———————

Finals week. God, you could just scream. You had just logged in another 10 hours at the campus library and despite the lack of knowledge you still felt you had, you had to go back to your dorm and at least try and get some rest.

All week you’ve been taking any time you could find to study- in between classes, on your walks to and from destinations on campus, and even sneaking in some note cards during the particularly boring classes. And after all of that hard work, you still felt it wouldn’t have been enough if Sam hadn’t been helping you out. You always considered yourself a smart student- prepared and logical- but Sam was a kind of smart that made you question him sometimes. It just came to him so naturally and if he wasn’t so damn sweet and helpful, you’d almost hate him. He’s one cocky attitude away from being a rival that you don’t have the time for like you did in high school.

Walking back to your dorm, the sky is dark, freckled with stars and dotted with a vibrant full moon. It had rained earlier today so you side-step a worm or two on the sidewalk and avoid the puddles. The air smells nice, clean, and refreshing. You savor this moment because you know once the rush of finals is over, you're stuck in your dorm for the holidays. You weren’t close with your family and that often left you alone during school breaks. That was something you and Sam had in common, you two never discussed it in detail much but you both understood the isolation of the lack of family in your lives.

This is your third year at Stanford and you couldn’t believe how long you had gone without knowing Sam Winchester because now you couldn’t imagine life without him. You missed him tonight for a study sesh but he said he had other matters to attend to and you were too wrapped up in a study-fried frenzy that you didn’t think to ask if everything was okay. It was too late to call him now, but you made a mental note to check with him between classes tomorrow.

Halfway to your dorm now, your exhaustion is really getting to you. The walk is peaceful, but almost too peaceful, and it only makes you more sleepy.

Until it’s not.

A loud crash echoes from up an alley between two lecture halls and you jump. Life on campus was almost boringly bland and uneventful, so you're more startled by the loud noise than afraid. You duck your head down the path and call out.

“Hello? You okay?” You ask, worried that maybe a night shift staff member was hurt. When only complete silence returns your beckon, you decide that it must be fine given the alley looks empty. Also because your prior sense of blissful ignorance is now frozen into a jagged unease of anxiety that gives you goosebumps.

You take a few steps back and bump into someone, letting out a small yelp at the contact. You spin to face Sam.

“Sam? What’re you doing out this late?” You ask, clutching your chest and laughing off your spook to try and seem calm and collected. His eyes scan over your frame and his face is serious- more serious than you’ve ever seen it. His hands reach out to hold your shoulders and he looks behind you, into the alley.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asks, bringing his attention back to you. Your brows crunch in confusion.

“I-I’m fine. It’s stupid,” you chuckle nervously, catching your breath. “Just thought I heard something.” You swallow with a confident nod.

“Get back to your dorm- lock the doors,” he says, leading you away but you shake your head, working against his steady, but firm, shove.

“No- what? What’s wrong?” You ask, taking a step back so he isn’t holding you anymore. You miss it already.

“Please, just trust me and go back,” he practically begs. There’s something you’ve never seen in his eyes before- fear. He’s afraid.

“Sam, are you okay?” You search his face for any hint at his immense distress.

A low growl from the alleyway makes you look behind Sam, trying to see what’s going on. Sam goes stiff, turning back to the alley and tucking you behind him.

“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered over his shoulder, his hand on your arm to hold you in place.

Scraping footsteps echo from the alley and out emerges this creature. You gasp, gripping the back of Sam’s jacket and you feel just how tense he is. The creature looked human, a large row of dog-like teeth lined its lips and its eyes were a sickening mix of neon yellow and green. God, and its mouth was smeared with crimson red that made you gag.

Sam reaches behind him, pulling a shiny, silver blade from a sheath on his belt loop. Your eyes widen at the size of it and he readies it in his dominant hand. The creature growls and pounces but Sam is quick and meets it in the middle, fighting the creature with a skill you’d see in some action movie a dad would boast over.

You stumble back a few steps, watching in horror. The creature is winning, throwing Sam across the walkway and he skids in the damp grass, landing with a grunt. You call out for him, keeping your eyes on Sam and wanting to go and help him but your feet are planted in place. You still can’t comprehend what this creature is or how it’s even real.

But it is, and it snaps its head to you, snarling as it slowly progresses to you. Its chin slick in bloody slobber, growling as it gets close enough to close the distance with a leap. The creature grabs you, slamming you into the brick wall of the alley.

The impact makes you go dizzy and you try to catch your breath.

You struggle, doing your best to hold it back but the creature is unnaturally strong. You cry out, putting all of your weight into trying to keep the creature back but its snapping jaw gets closer and closer. Suddenly, the creature is ripped off of you and a burst of pain erupts in your elbow as you land into the cement.

Sam is wielding the blade again, this time having the upper hand, yet covered in mud that dampens his clothes. You wish you looked away before Sam sinks the blade deep into the creature's chest with a scowling grunt. He yanks the blade back out and stands to his feet, huffing and staring down at the creature for a moment before turning to you. Your eyes are locked on the creature, barely even registering Sam’s presence, that is until he starts towards you and you instinctively flinch back.

He stops in his tracks and holds up his hands in a steady manner. There’s blood splattered on his face and his lip is bleeding. He’s hurt. There’s something else though, his face is twisted- pained. He looks like someone just kicked his damn puppy and is now mocking him for it.

You didn’t mean to flinch, it’s just that with what you saw and how you were attacked, you were scared. But not of Sam.

Never of Sam.

“You're bleeding,” he says, looking down at your arm and sure enough there’s a scratch that has ripped your favorite jacket. The blood is steadily flowing though, more than you’ve ever seen seep out of your own body. You close your eyes and turn away, trying to settle the dizziness.

“What w-was that?” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“Werewolf.”

You scoff.

“Jesus,” you groan, sitting up fully and leaning against the wall, your arm really hurts now. You finally reopen your eyes and Sam is taking cautious steps towards you.

“Can I take a look at that?” He asks, pointing to the wound, his hands still braced. You nod because of course he can.

“Please,” your voice cracks. You’re bad with blood and he knows it too. He’s quick to crouch down next to you, grabbing your arm to inspect the gash. You swallow down a whimper, trying to steady yourself against the cold brick behind you.

“You’ll be okay, shouldn’t even need stitches,” his words exhaled with his previously bated breath. “Look at me,” his hand cups your cheek to pull you towards him, holding gently to allow you to dictate when you want to move your head.

As you face him, your eyes crack back open and you catch a glimpse of the creature's lifeless form on the pavement.

“No, no,” he uses his hand to guide you fully to him, “don’t look.” His eyes are softer than usual, like melted pools of hazel. He’s worried about you, that’s obvious, but he looks so torn too.

“How did you know?” You ask and his thumb brushes away a stream of tears you didn’t realize were flowing. His gaze dips down like he’s ashamed but he seems to settle on something as he returns his eyes to yours.

“Family business,” he echoes the simple explanation of when you asked why he ran from home. Your shock and fear morph into confusion and a little annoyance.

“Wait- this is what your dad and brother do? The same ‘family business’ your dad ‘trained’ you for? What the fuck is wrong with him? How the fuck is that- thing even real,” your eyes catch a glimpse of the corpse again and your fear starts to return. “Why is that real,” you whisper, your heart racing. It starts to drizzle.

“We should go,” he urges gently, looking around to make sure no one new is nearby. Your eyes close again and you shake your head.

“God,” you groan, the pain in your arm really taking over your train of thought.

“C’mon, I’ll get you fixed up,” he says, standing and raising you with him. His arm snakes around your waist and you can almost guess that the reasoning isn’t just to help you walk but to keep you close to him out of whatever protective instinct took over during the fight. “You’re okay, you’ll be okay,” he says and you can also deduce it’s for his benefit.

Your legs are shaky as Sam leads you away from the scene, keeping you secure and going slow enough for you to not get too disoriented.

“So,” you start, “you’re telling me that you ditched me to hunt a werewolf? If you’re sick of explaining appellate advocacy you coulda’ just said so,” you chuckle awkwardly. He scoffs and meets your laugh, the sound rattling through his chest and you can feel the rumble into your side.

“Shut up,” you can almost hear his eyes roll. His hold on you lightens up and you can feel some of the tension melt away. But the dead look in the eyes of that thing burns back into your eyes and you feel sick.

“Thank you- for being there,” you say seriously.

“Thank you for hearing me out,” Sam’s thumb absentmindedly caresses your hip.

“Still debating that,” you shove lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirks, flashing a canine that you get a glimpse of as you look up at him. “I’ll explain as much or as little as you want to hear.”

Yeah, you’ll have to mull that over a bit too. But right now, as Sam leads you by your hips and the throb of your arm makes you bite your lip so hard that now you're bleeding in two separate places, all you can even fathom is each next step your feet take.

Rationality will be your friend tomorrow. Tonight, you plead plausible deniability.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @checkedoutghost

[willowed-wisp]

THE WAYWARD AND THE WARDEN - part one

previous | next

Cregan Stark x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, injury, threat… not too bad really

She was just a girl. Eighteen years of age.

A fresh university student on her Christmas holidays- venturing up to Scotland to be with her aunt and uncle.

Philippa had nothing. Parents gone…

At least the remaining family she had were kind, no children of their own to dote on.

She had living in Scotland for those past four years- venturing down south for her education - so she knew her way around.

Driving, “Just another left and then a right,” but the snow made it difficult to navigate; caught in a rife blizzard. One minute she was listening to rock music in her small Mini Cooper. Then the front bonnet was wrapped around tree bark. Philippa unaware as her skull bumped back against the seat’s head; she was dead to the world.

Not able to help a groan leave her lips, thrumming pounded against her temple. Philippa unable to feel the rest of her. Her lower half powdered with fresh fallen snow.

Where was her car? She had been wearing a seatbelt… why was she waist deep in the snow?

Philippa’s gaze burned by the iced haze, whatever she bored her eyes on happened to be a wasteland of frost. That wasn’t the same spot…

When she thought nothing of her body could be felt, fearing paralysis, a crackle of kindling spread her thigh. “Fuck…” looking down she found a bare leg, and a bare stomach… naked chest. And quite a splash of blood from where her fingers met her forehead.

But there was nothing except trenches of tundra for miles… “I’m gonna die here,” no she wasn’t, death would have to drag her by the ankles…

Despite the numbed ache waking throughout her skin, she laboured; dragging through knee deep snowfall and more piled up.

She could no longer feel that sting, unaware to the frostbite reigning of her flesh. “I’m not fucking dying here…” Toes numbed yet scorched. She had almost ignored the wall of ice up ahead, but it was the last thing she saw before a void of black.

It was warm?

Had she died?

Philippa felt at peace, crackling of a log fire to her left without the bitterness of the outdoors.

Fingertips wandered across soft fur while her eyes opened- wishful thinking came to an immediate shatter. A circlet chandelier, candlelit, above her with pure stone casting shadows above itself.

Similar to a castle- auntie Carol and Uncle Gyles made frequent day trips to visit historical monuments around the United Kingdom; her parents had shared that same interest, so she was well versed in the differences of Carlisle to Windsor.

She was in neither.

The girl sat up, covers gathered around her hips. She took in the room- plain yet plentiful. She found herself in a massive bed, standing candelabras casting light amongst the darkness of night. The fire place roaring prevented her from being frozen.

Snow dripped in flurries the other side of the windows.

Heaven nor Hell looked like that.

Where the fuck was she?

Eyes cast down into the folded pile of clothes, thick layers.

She wasn’t being tortured, it seemed she was a guest.

Philippa had been dressed in a simple white cloth gown. Alike the clothes placed down for her, they looked… medieval; lace-up dress and a thick cape which pooled on the ground.

Twas not an easy feat lacing the dress in lonesome, and she was pretty damned sure she had made a sham of it.

But she needed to get out of the room. No matter how calm she appeared on the surface, beneath she suffocated.

Along Philippa’s way down the intricate halls, barren stone. She bumped into a wide-shouldered, broad obstacle, “I’m sorry,” polite yet dismissive, she just needed to get some kind of sense.

She continued down the corridor. Lit by torched-sconces that flickered, while wind whipped behind her speeding paces.

‘Did that guy wear a wolf pelt?’ Shaking the thought to the wayside- not looking back.

It was a castle.

Not the largest she’s visited but that didn’t take away from the stone complex- mostly obscured by freezing mist.

Arms wrapped around herself, it felt like Scotland although it certainly was not. “Where am I?” She asked the neck-snapping breeze.

“The North,” A rough, rich voice boomed from the door behind. It was confident and foreboding- Philippa quivered in secrecy.

Ominous. “Of course I’m in the north, could you be more specific? Because it’s fucking chilly,” A hint of sarcasm and a sprinkle of jesting, wholly serious. Meanwhile her eyes focused on the silhouettes forward.

“You’re in Winterfell,” still as rough as steel.

That atmosphere was too heavy, “Is that near Glasgow? Because I need to be in Edinburgh…” Silence followed.

He didn’t seemed awfully amused.

Heaving steps- clanking of metal in sync. A charcoal section of fur had been the first thing in her peripheral.

That wolf pelt.

“I said I was sorry,” a squeaky to the man- almost a foot taller. And she wasn’t even short. Philippa couldn’t help but admire handsome features, made harsh and rugged by the murky light. That presence was unshakeable… a mountain of a man.

His eyes looked brown- though she could be mistaken. “Why were you over the Wall?” Philippa feared in utter bemusement. She’d never experienced that combination before.

“What-,” one movement made her flinch. But the one hand grappling her wrist, dragged her close to him- her chin raised staring into that icy gaze.

Teeth gritted while he spoke, “Why were you over the Wall?” Eyes made her cower.

Pleading with wide-eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man let her go but that closeness remained.

“You sound like a southerner… what’s your name?” Brows crossed and lips scowling. Maybe that was just him.

“Philippa.” He circled her slowly- studying her.

He stopped in front of her again, catching her in his gaze, “And what is it that you do, Philippa?”

She tried to put it into basic terms, “I’m a healer, i think you do things differently.”

He still frowned, “Maester Samm will hone your craft,” she simply nodded- shaking whether it be from the cold or the nerves. “Those chambers you woke in are yours, we’ve been in need of a healer for a while now.” Without a second word he brooded off.

Nobody would understand her predicament- if this ‘Winterfell’ was anything like the history she knew she’d be burnt at the stake as a witch. And being a healer wouldn’t aid her, but she was a quick learner and knew holistic approaches.

Philippa just needed an education on the herbs and flowers they had because if medicine was anything like the medieval age… she needed to know what was potent and what was outright deadly.

And so she went back to her room. Twiddling her thumbs until the morning.

A knock at the door, “come in.” Like a mouse but the person heard and the door creaked open. A long mop of black- gorgeously glossy.

Smile on her face, “I’m Melaine, and you must Philippa. You’re training with Maester Samn,” an accent similar to those of her aunt and uncle.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get much information about that…”

A laugh. “Lord Cregan doesn’t mince his words, never has, even when he was a wee ankle-biter,” free speaking like a Scotsman. “He’s a good man, but the North shapes a lad even if they are eight-and-ten,” the woman was much older than Philippa, probably in her forties which meant she had been in service more than two decades maybe three.

“He looks older,”

“It shapes them to have rough edges, lass,” the sky was clear- and though snow had settled none descended upon them. And so she could take in the massive gates; one in front and one to her right. “It’ll change you soon enough. Get rid of that politeness, make you more bold…”

A quizzical look from the teenager, “I doubt that. My parents, even as a child, called me a stubborn mule.”

“We’ll see about that as a healer in Winterfell… lads here draw swords like us maids light matchsticks…”

Melaine reminded Philippa of her auntie Carol- comforting and a safety blanket while Cregan Stark was something she wanted to hide from but she had a feeling they’d have a few run ins with each other whether that be locking heads or weaving stitches.

——————————

If you wanna be tagged leave a comment or message me! x

Hope that wasn’t too awful, I’m getting into the groove of writing again.

[crystalandparrot]

RC9GN x Reader

Part 1, Part 2

“Hey, (Y/n),” Bucky spoke, spooking said girl out of her stupor as the two walked to school.

"Huh?" (Y/n) question.

"How come you only ever talk to me? I'm sure other students would love to hear your ideas." Bucky said optimistically.

"You really think so?" (Y/n) asked, eyes shining.

"Maybe not, all of them-"

(Y/n) deflated, causing Bucky to wave his hands frantically.

"But that's because they're not for high schoolers! I mean the home alarm, your staff, those goggles on your head—"

"Hey, these goggles help me log important information and — okay, I see your point." (Y/n) deflated again.

"What if you made something to impress them?" Bucky asked with a snap of his fingers.

"Something to impress them..." (Y/n) thought out loud. "Oh! What about my mechanical spider limbs?" With that, eight mechanical limbs popped out of (Y/n)'s hoodie, lifting her off the ground and flipping her upside down.

"You look like Invader Zim," Bucky chuckled, walking past the, once again, deflated girl. The arms retracted suddenly. With quick thinking, (Y/n) flipped and landed on her feet, surprising Bucky. "Do you know any more cool moves like that?" He asked.

"I prefer to show off my intelligence rather than physical prowess. Sure it's nice to have the ability, but my superpower relies solely on my brain!" (Y/n) said as she pushed open the doors to the school.

"Then you should put that brain to good use," Bucky held out his hand for a fist bump.

(Y/n) reciprocated the fist bump and the two parted ways. (Y/n) walked to her science class, which she always had for 1st period on Mondays. Mrs. Driscoll greeted her with a grin.

"(Y/n)! Any new inventions?" Mrs. Driscoll asked with stars in her eyes. She puppeteered her late husband's skeleton to 'talk', "Your inventions are positively humorous!" Mrs. Driscoll laughed and smacked Jerry's chest.

(Y/n) smiled and placed her satchel on Mrs. Driscoll's desk. As she did so, Randy Cunningham and Howard Weinerman happened to walk in. "Mrs. Driscoll, I present to you," (Y/n) held up a small box with a crescent-moon-shaped attachment, "the, still in Beta, the C.R.A.V.E.S, a system that, when placed against the user's teeth," (Y/n) put the device against Jerry's teeth. The machine beeped, "it tells you exactly what they were craving! For example, your husband was craving...scallops?" (Y/n) looked at the device in question.

Mrs. Driscoll sighed lovingly, "That was my Jerry."

(Y/n) shivered, she tucked her device away and walked to her seat at the back of the room.

"Who's that shoob?" Howard whispered to Randy.

More students began trickling in when Randy leaned close to Howard, "I have no idea, but she's pretty smart."

"A smart shoob is still a shoob," Howard said, pointing his pencil at Randy. Inside Randy's bag, the Nomicon quietly blinked red from behind its Math book cover, facing the direction of (Y/n).

As the final student, Bash (fashionably late as always), trickled in, Mrs. Driscoll began writing in the blackboard. "Welcome back, students!” She puppeteers her husband once more, “I hope your Spring Break was a bone-afide success!”

“Ha! Word play.” (Y/n) chuckled to herself. She sat at the back of the class, the two seats next to her empty while all the other seats were taken.

“And as a Welcome Back, I’m assigning your first projects of the next semester!” Mrs. Driscoll announced.

The students all groaned with the exception of (Y/n), “Oh, goody!”

“And since the school board has cut funding for the science department…again…this time you’ll be working in groups of three.” The words seemed to echo around the room. None of the students (with one exception) listened to the rest, as they were too busy deciding who to add to their group. Friends will be split, enemies made, alliances formed in blood… “You can now find your partners-“ with that, hell broke loose. Kids jumping over tables, holding back their friends to prevent a steal, throwing dangerous objects. It got to a point that Mrs. Driscoll hid herself and her husband under the desk.

“Cunningham! Save me!” Howard screamed as he was pulled into the wave of students.

“Hold oh, Big H!” Randy, without hesitation, jumped into the sea. His leg caught the strap of his backpack as he jumped, forcing the contents to be spilled all over the floor. The Nomicon hummed and blinked as students stepped and kicked it to the back of the room, the mask caught in its pages. With all of the abuse, the cover even came off, revealing its true cover to the world.

With a metallic THUD, the Nomicon hit the metal cabinet next to (Y/n). The girl let out a noise of surprise and looked up from her notebook. The Nomicon blinked softly as (Y/n) picked it up. Her hands traced the delicate patterns on the hard leather book, the feeling not uncomfortable to her hands like she imagined it would be. With a bit of remorse (Y/n) held the book away from her, “Oh, exotic book, what secrets you must hide—but alas! It is my code of honor to not open a book that does not belong to me…unless of course bought or received from a trusted source.”

The Nomicon flashed red, humming loudly.

(Y/n)’s eyes shone, “Maybe there’s an exception for glowing mystic books,” (Y/n) ran her fingers over the pages that begged to be opened. The Nomicon’s flashes got faster and louder, its pages flittering as they waited to be opened.

“Has everyone found their partners?” Mrs. Driscoll asked.

(Y/n)’s head shot up and with a sigh, she tucked the Nomicon into her satchel, the flap open to make for an easier grab. “Soon, my precious.”

In the middle of the room, Randy and Howard sat, rubbing their heads in pain. “Oh, good. Randy and Howard, you’ll be joining (Y/n).” Mrs. Driscoll announced once she saw they the three were, in fact, without partners. “(Y/n) has the highest grade in the class, so even you two should get a decent grade.” She chuckled.

“What?! But she’s a shoob!” Howard moaned.

“A shoob with the highest grade in the class! Howard, we can use this!” Randy whispered, excitedly. Both of the friends grabbed their bags and walked to (Y/n) at the back of the class.

“I don’t follow.” Howard whispered.

“We’ll act like total shoob’s, say we don’t know how to do the project, she’ll get annoyed with us, do the project and — BOOM, automatic A.” Randy smirked. The two sat down and a sudden flash of red distracted Randy. He looked down, spotting his Nomicon in (Y/n)’s bag. He nervously chuckled, “I-is, is that my book?” Randy asked, pointing at (Y/n)’s satchel.

“Huh?” (Y/n) looked down, at her bag. “Oh, it flew to the back, I didn’t know who it belonged to.” (Y/n) gently took the book out and traced the cover again. Shaking her head, she handed it back to Randy, “Where did you get it? I’d love to read it sometime, I’ve never seen anything like it.” (Y/n) spoke quickly, enamored by the book.

“Oh, it’s nothing just a little family history book. Old baby pictures, family trees—Really boring stuff, I’ll just take it off your hands.” Randy hurriedly took the book back, and shoved it in his own satchel. The Nomicon flashed brightly and loudly, angry at the turn of events.

“You bring family history books to school?” (Y/n) asked flatly.

“I-it’s for our History class! Some extra credit thing that you definitely don’t need!” Howard back his friend up, grinning awkwardly.

(Y/n) looked between the two skeptically, “Right…” with a quick hand, she opened her notebook to a fresh page and began writing, “So, ideas for our project?”

“Yes! Our project!” Randy grinned, winking at Howard.

“Totally love that project! I can’t wait to…do our project!” Howard added in a fake excited voice.

(Y/n) sighed out of annoyance, “You don’t know what the project is, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Not. A. Clue.”

(Y/n) gripped the bridge of her nose, “Super,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “Cool, cool, cool. Cool, cool, cool.” She angrily closed the notebook and stood. “Why don’t I work on the project and you two do the report? All you have to do is write what the robot does AFTER I give it to you.” (Y/n) commanded as she pointed to Randy and Howard.

“But what do we—“

“You write down what it does!” (Y/n) took a deep breath, “I will give you a list of what it does. All you have to do is write a well written report.” (Y/n) began walking out of the room, “Even though my robot will be A plus guaranteed,” she whispered cockily.

“Those who are building, go to Mr. Smith’s metal shop for your basic design! Everyone’s who’s writing a report please go to the library!” Mrs. Driscoll announced after seeing (Y/n) leave.

“Automatic A—“ Howard started, raising his hand.

“Here. We. Come!” Randy punctuated each word with the next step in their secret handshake. They ended with their signature turn and pose.

The Nomicon angrily blinked, catching Randy’s attention. Picking up his bag, Randy held up a finger to Howard, “Give me just one second,” he whispered. He ran out of the room and into a Janitor’s closet. “Alright, Nomicon, I only got a few minutes before Driscoll realizes I’m not in the library, so be quick about it—“ the Nomicon flew open suddenly, causing Randy to lose consciousness and ‘Vloomp’ into the Nomicon.

Randy screamed as he fell through the artistic clouds and through the painted leaves on the two dimensional tress. With a couple of bounces, Randy finally landed against a tree trunk. “What the juice, Nomicon?!”

A painted scholar walked through the trees, smiling at Randy. Or at least, to the person behind him.

A painted ninja stepped through the trees behind Randy and walked up to the scholar. The ninja gave the scholar a piece of paper, and folded his arms. The scholar read the paper and nodded at the ninja. The trees fell backwards, blending into the floor as more of scene became exposed. The scholar walked to his small house. The sun rose and fell in flashes, showing how long the scholar was in his house. The sun rose once more, staying in the air as the scholar left the house, this time with a small box. He presented it to the ninja and began talking. No words or letters left his mouth, the only thing Randy could hear was soft flutes as the scholar spoke.

The ninja waved his hand and took the box, smokebombing away. The trees on the other side of Randy fell, blending into the floor, further increasing the scene. There was a small town with a large flying serpent terrorizing the village. With a puff of smoke, the ninja stood in front of the serpent. He opened the box and pulled out a smaller box with a button. The ninja looked at the box in question then pressed the button…nothing happened. He pressed it again and again…still nothing. The serpent AND the townsfolk all laughed at the ninja as he sulked. Colorful words flew out of the box and presented themselves over the ninja’s head.

“Neglect the brain and the heart becomes vulnerable.” Randy read aloud. “Uh, that scholar clearly sabotaged the ninja! I mean, who gives someone a box that doesn’t do anything?” Randy asked.

The ninja and scholar looked at each other unimpressed. The ninja pulled out his sword and the scholar…why is he holding a Bō staff? The two quickly ran to Randy and simultaneously attacked him.

With a gasp and a bump to the head, Randy left the Nomicon. He rubbed his head and looked behind him to see the shelf he bumped his head on.

Randy peeked his head out of the Janitors closet and rushed out before anyone could see him, bag in hand.

“AHHHHH!!”

“Someone get the Ninja!”

“Help!”

Randy gasped at the sudden cries for help. With no one in the hall, this was the perfect time to put his Ninja suit on.

“Looks like it’s Ninja o’clock!” Randy reached into his bag…except…

Randy’s heart fell into his stomach as his hand missed the soft fabric of the mask. He glared down at the bag, and upon not seeing the mask immediately, Randy overturned his bag and emptied the contents. The only object that was matching to the mask in color was the Nomicon.

“Sweet cheese, I lost the Ninja mask!”

————————

I swear I can hear the music starting and cutting out at the end. Also if you saw the lesson in the first chapter before I edited it, no you didn’t.

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 04 ୨୧

Prev || 04 Oblivious || Next

— Since the entire student council was present and the library was notably crowded with students who had signed up for the lecture, [Name] entered the library on her own.

She felt guilty, having to ditch her plans with Karma after an unresolved argument they decided to brush over. To make matters worse, she has to sit through a two-hour session and watch Ren shamelessly flirt with every girl in the room. On the brighter side, this ordeal counted towards her volunteer hours.

"You're late. You missed my introductory speech."

"My fault, I'll make up for it by working extra hard!"

She mentally thanked Karma for convincing her take the longer route, saying, "It's not a big deal if you're 10 minutes late... or 30." It was impressive how Gakushuu's speeches managed to put her to sleep every time, missing it was a win in her book.

Koyama called him over, something about a broken printer and an angry librarian.

 ...aaand she was all alone again.  [Name] decided to go check on the group at the back table.

"Oh, [Name] made it—she can help us!" The first year, Chisa blissfully smiled.

"But I wanted Asano to help. [Name] could you please ask him to?" Chisa's friend insisted, clearly not as enthusiastic about the anyone-whose-not- Asano's arrival.

[Name] tried not to let it bother her, being the only girl in the student council came with a lot of pressure.

She’s just as helpful and capable as the rest of the group but no one seems to acknowledge it. Everyone calls them the “Big Five” even though there’s technically six of them as her scores tie with Seo.

"He's busy with Koyama, but maybe later."

The girl groaned and sulked laying her head on the table. Chisa looked apologetic for her friends dramatics. [Name] offered them a polite smile and said, "Let's get through your assignments then."

After half an hour of helping the girls turn in missing work, [Name] decided to take a short break. She left for an empty table in the very corner of the room, the short break turned into a long one when she got distracted texting Karma.

‧₊˚ Message Log ‧₊˚

[Name]: can we talk? im super bored!!

Karma: Whose fault is that?

Karma: should have ditched to be with me the whooleee day

[Name]: ugghhh don't. Can you believe I still have another hour of this 

[Name]: anyway what are you doing?

Karma: I bumped into Nagisa on my way back from the library

Karma: now were at Maehara's house with Rio and Fuwa.

[Name]: Rio?? That one beautiful, smart, sweet, blonde girl in your class?

Karma: Sounds like you like her alot.

[Name]: She makes me nervous

Karma: Hey that's how you used to talk about me before we went out

[Name]: I can hear the disappointment through the text lmaoo

‧₊˚ Message End ‧₊˚

"You haven't even been here for an hour and you’re already slacking off on your phone?"

"Gakushuu! Geez you came out of nowhere." [Name] shut her phone off and patted the seat next to her.

To her surprise he slumped down next to her instead of insulting her and walking off, like he usually does.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm exhausted to say the least. This was a stupid idea no one is making progress, well no one but Ren, he managed to pick up quite a few desperate ones today."

"That's not completely true, I helped Chisa and her friend turn their C's to A's. As much as I hate being here it's not useless. Useless was the Bakesale we tried last year where the cupcakes we sold tasted like horse crap. It was funny watching people pretend to love them and hold back the throw up because they came from you."

"Could of stopped at the first half, but thanks, I think. My father said I wasn't being organized enough, that this would be a failure on my half and an embarrassment on his."

"That's a little harsh, you're doing your best and you've done more than anyone else in the council. Ren's been giving out his number more than he's been lecturing, Seo has been in the bathroom for 20 minutes, Teppei has been stuck on the same group this entire time and to be honest Koyama is hard to look at. Im pretty sure I saw the girl he was teaching closing her eyes while he was talking."

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"You're right I'll go yell at them in a few. It's not a big deal though, My father has said much worse."

"To be fair, I haven't exactly kept my promise either. Hard work turned into hiding in a corner to text my b- actually I should get back to work, actions speak louder than words!" [Name] stood up to leave. Asano grabbed her sleeve, it was impulsive and the immediateness of it made it all the more awkward."

"Uh, Asano? Is there something you still need?" She crinkled her eyebrows.

His cheeks became somewhat pink, [Name] thought he couldn’t have been blushing, maybe it was allergies.

“No, just don't get distracted on your phone again."

"Yeah Ive got it!" She waved him off and went back to work, 

Gakushuu sat there slightly conflicted with his thoughts and his feelings, He faulted the all nighter he pulled last night, sleep deprivation does negatively impact mind clarity. He decided he should get back to work too.

Meanwhile ☆ ༄

"Let me get this straight, instead of asking me like normal people the class collectively decided to stalk [Name] and I?"

"Pretty much... but I was against it the entire time!" Nagisa replied sheepishly, to his surprise Karma's response was a relaxed nod.

"You're acting weirdly cool about this."

It sent a shiver down his spine, in a weird way Karma was scarier when he didn't react. Not knowing what he's thinking was an uncomfortable feeling.

"It's not a big deal- unless you guys tell people, that's when things will leak."

Fuwa's voice highers a few octaves in concern "What things?!" 

"Telling you would ruin the surprise wouldn’t it?”

Maehara, reckless as always chimes in “I wanted to go and see [Name] but I couldn't. We were almost a thing before you stole her ya know?"

Nagisa, being the good friend he is, rushes in to save him "That's not it at all! Isogai told us she rejected him a bunch of times since he's a womanizer!"

"I'm not a womanizer, I'm smooth."

"Smooth is the surface of the floor you'll be on when I knock your sorry ass out."

Maehara quickly moves behind Rio who changes the subject with a flood of questions;

"How long have you been dating? Why would anyone go out with you? Did you scare her into saying yes?"

"I’ll tell you if you buy me soba. Better question is: Why wouldn't someone go out with me? I’m tall, handsome, smart, charismatic… and I have a sick spice collection.”

“Im also all of those things.” Maehara jokes, cautiously this time, using Rio as a human shield.

[verdantcrimson]

Let's Play and Learn

Writer: Yuumasu

Season: Autumn

TL: verdantcrimson

(Unproofread)

Mitsuru: We’re heeere~! It’s the amusement park, the amusement park!

Tomoya: Hold on, Mitsuru. You aren’t a little kid anymore, don’t get all worked up about it. 

Mitsuru: Why not, why not? Everyone can have fun at an amusement park!

Mitsuru: I’ve been looking forward to this for looong time, so I’m gonna have as much fun as I can! YAHOO!

Tomoya: Wai- Don’t drag me by the arm, listen to me!

Souma: …… Today, Tenma seems more excitable than usual.

Hajime: Heheh. It’s been a while since all us four Ra*bits have gone on an outing like this.

Hajime: I think it’s because everyone from AKATSUKI is with us. Right, Nii-chan?

Nazuna: Yup. Hajime-chin, you can spend your time however you like too, kay? Relaxation is important.

Hajime: Okay!

Hajime: … Ah, Tomoya-kun and Mitsuru-kun are waving me over. It looks like they’re taking pictures with the mascots.

Kuro: Hey, Kanzaki. You go and take a picture too.

Souma: I as well?

Kuro: You’re the eldest amongst the students. That makes you their ‘big brother’. Keep an eye on the little ones and make sure they don’t tire themselves out.

Souma: I am their ‘big brother’, you say?

Souma: Leave it to me! ♪ I shall go forth, as an elder!

Keito: —Considering what you came here to accomplish, shouldn’t you be the one interacting with the kids, Kiryu?

Kuro: Uhhh…… That’s, well, I’ll get around to it eventually…

Nazuna: Ahaha! At that rate, you won’t make any progress at all, y’know~?

Keito: I agree. By the way, Nito was the one who came up with the plan for today, correct?

Nazuna: Ah, yeah. I happened to bump into Kuro-chin at the office last week, and he told me his thoughts on ‘Bogie Time’.

Nazuna: He also asked me: “How do you react entertainingly on shows like that?”

Nazuna: I gave him some advice on a few things, but ‘reacting’ isn’t a skill you can just get by listening to someone tell you how to do it, right?

Nazuna: We decided to train somewhere far removed enough from day to day life to put it into practice— Hence the special training at the amusement park.

Nazuna: Then we figured two guys hanging out on their own would be lonely, so we decided to invite our pals along! ♪ 

Keito: I can understand that much, however… Other four invitees aside, why call me? I’m not exactly the kind of person that would jump for joy at the prospect of going to an amusement park.

Kuro: With everyone else taggin’ along, wouldn’t you feel sad bein’ the only one left out?

Kuro: I didn’t want to make you feel bad, or have ya thinkin’ that I didn’t call ‘cause you’re too busy with work or somethin’.

Kuro: Havin’ ya here would make me happier too, Hasumi. Guys like us don’t tend to come to places like these often, right?

Kuro: I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ an unexpected side of ya. ♪

Keito: So, you’re expecting me to make a fool of myself? You have terrible taste. 

Keito: … But well, like you said earlier. Kanzaki seems to be happy about this.

Keito: I suppose you’ll need a reliable adult around. Don’t you appreciate that, Kiryu?

Kuro: ‘Course. I’m always appreciative of ya, Hasumi danna……♪

Keito: Hmph… Now that I’m here, I’ll make certain you accomplish your goals.

Keito: According to the pamphlet, the attractions that would be best for training your reactions are…… The haunted house, log flume, rollercoaster, as well as the—

Kuro: Ugh. Could we skip the rollercoaster and other swingy stuff? You already know I’m not a rides guy.

Nazuna: Then, how about this one? It’s an attraction where you can have fun talking to the crew.

Nazuna: Since you can’t predict what people are going to say next, it’ll be perfect for upgrading your adlib power. ♪

Souma: …… One and all, how long do you intend to keep conversing for?

Souma: T’would be a shame to waste away our time for naught. I wish for our senpai to enjoy the amusement park alongside us as well.

Kuro: Whoops. Sorry Kanzaki.

Kuro: You’re right. Even if I’m avoidin’ the rides, I’m sure I’ll be able to learn somethin’ from all the other attractions.

Kuro: Alright, shall we go and have some fun together? ♪

[A few hours later]

Nazuna: … Oh, I’ve got a call from Hajime-chin.

Nazuna: Hello? Were you able to buy the churros?

Nazuna: Uhuh. Yup, yup. …… Got it, you can take your time. Seeya.

Nazuna: Turns out the line ended up being surprisingly long, so it’ll take them some time to get back.

Kuro: I see. Honestly, that’s kind of a relief. They were constantly draggin’ me all over the place.

Keito: Yes. The amount of walking around they did was quite surprising.

Nazuna: Both of you look exhausted~. Feels like you’re two dads on vacation! ♪

Nazuna: But I’m impressed, ‘cause Kuro-chin still seriously practiced his reaction expressions.

Kuro: ‘Course I’d take it seriously. Otherwise there’d be no point in comin’ here.

Keito: Even so, doesn’t embarrassment tend to win out for most? You put in so much effort to act horrified at the haunted house, that you managed to horrify the ghosts—

Keito: And when you asked the mascot character for an autograph, It was like you were threatening him. You took it so seriously that it was almost comical. In some ways, this has been a learning experience for me as well.

Kuro: Haha. Comical, huh? Can’t tell if I’m bein’ praised or degraded here.

Kuro: So now, let’s have a look what other attractions there are……

Mitsuru: —Then, how’s this?

Nazuna: Oh, you guys are back. …Hm? What’s that?

Mitsuru: A horned headband! It glows in the dark! I bought one for everyone so we could remember our amusement park trip! ☆

Kuro: You want me to wear that and walk around? Nah, I couldn’t. I mean, obviously…… It just wouldn’t suit me.

Mitsuru: Eeeh? I expected a happier reaction! You might have to wear even sillier outfits when you go on variety shows, don’tcha think?

Mitsuru: If wearing a headband makes you feel embarrassed, you’re not gonna be able to do anything!

Kuro: But…

Mitsuru: Now’s my chance!

Kuro: Yipes. Close call… I almost got a headband put on me.

Mitsuru: You dodged!? If you had stayed put for just a little longer, I would’ve had it! Bummer!

Nazuna: ……Oh. Kuro-chin, Kuro-chin, wouldn’t this also work as training your reaction skills?

Kuro: Huuh? Whaddya mean?

Nazuna: Liiike this! —Hiiyah! ☆

Kuro: Woah! Nito, not you too!

Nazuna: Darn it~! Tomoya-chin, Hajime-chin, come on! Let’s join forces and put this headband on him!

Tomoya & Hajime: Got it! 

Kuro: Hey now, how’s a 4v1 even fair…?

Souma: Indeed, it seems as though Kiryu-dono is also enjoying himself whilst frolicking around in such a manner. I shall cheer for you as well…♪

Kuro: I don’t need you cheerin’, help m—

Kuro: …No. I ain’t gonna make a peep. If I start complainin’ now, I’ll lose my dignity as a man.

Kuro: Bring it, rabbits. I’ll take ya all on…!

Souma: Hehe. As one would expect of Kiryu-dono, he fights a solitary battle. ♪

Souma: ……By the by, Hasumi-dono. In this particular circumstance, what exactly would qualify Kiryu-dono as the victor?

Keito: No clue.

[onmyknees4loak]

Teach me

Lo'ak x Reader

Warnings: (Lowkey stalker and sub lo'ak) Synopsis : (Lo'ak cant seem to take his eyes off of the girl who teaches his nephew.)

Playlist I listened to while making this

Reader's POV

"Good job muffin!!" Pxe'pe one of my youngest students finally gets her threading right. She runs off to show her mother.

I'm what Jake calls a babysitter but I like to think of myself as a teacher I mean that is what I do, people leave there kids with me while they attend to there duties and I teach them things like threading, scavenging, and even healing.

"miss miss miss" i hear a small voice from behind me and feel small hands on my leg, i turn around to be met with Kame'xar, one of my little ones.

"yes what do you need sweetie" i crouch down to be at his level

"i cut my finger" a little sob comes out as he holds his hand up, i see a small bright red cut nothing to serious but still it must hurt.

"oh no sweetie come on lets go fix that up for you" i extend my arms and pick him up, i start heading to the healing tent. i look down at his finger and as im looking away from in front of me i bump into a tall stiff figure. "Oh my eywa! I am so sorry" the figure turns around, i began to panic even more. The figure is Kame'xar's uncle.

"oh my goodness Lo'ak I apologize" i say hoping he wont notice the cut on his nephew's hand.

"oh no worries ...." he pauses trying to remember my name.

"y/n my name is y/n" i tell him.

"y/n... That's a beautiful name....Oh my god Kame'xar i didn't even notice you what's up bro, have you been crying what happened?"

He looks at me wondering what happened to his nephew,

"he cut his finger we were on the way to the healing tent to fix him up."

"oh well please let me walk you there its the least i can do" Lo'ak insists.

"I mean it is only right there but sure" we began walking to the tent which is already in sight.

Once we walk into the tent i set Kame'xar down on the floor and lower to my knees to grab the healing paste. I take his hand and gently rub the paste over his cut.

Kame'xar giggles "its c-cold!" he says in a fit of giggles.

"it is isn't it" i say laughing with him.

I can feel Lo'aks watching my every move. I stand up and turn around to Lo'ak.

"Well i should be getting Kame'xar back now." I feel Kame'xar put his now healed hand in mine and start pulling me to the opening of the tent.

"Thank you y/n, bye Kame'xar ill see you at dinner" lo'ak says waiting for us to leave.

"Bye" me and Kame'xar say at the same time.

As were walking I can't help but to keep thinking about Lo'ak everyone says he,s a bad influence and all he does is get in trouble but he seems so sweet and caring- ok y/n snap out of it he didn't even know your name and you got more important things to worry about.

Lo'ak's POV

'y/n.....y/n how have i never seen her around surly i would have noticed someone that beautiful. She's so different there's just something soothing and pleasant about her.

I walk out of the healing tent and start heading to our family tent,

Oh eywa i can't get that beautiful women out of my head. I need to see her again. I change my direction and start heading to where i know neteyam drops Kame'xar off every day. As i get closer i can hear the sound of children laughing getting louder, shes so good with kids. I hope to make her laugh like that one day.

I see my girl with kids running around her, there playing a game. I keep my distance and sit on a log where others are sitting and eating fruit.

I just sit there and watch her teach and play with the kids for hours. I turn away any time she looks in my direction hoping she doesn't realize that ive been sitting here for hours.

She would never want a guy like me an outcast.

Reader's POV

I finish putting up all the kids threading projects keeping them safe for tomorrow.

"Good Bye Vaylen! I'll see you tomorrow" now all the kids have gone home for the night, and i can start heading home. i turn around to start walking in the direction of my tent when i see Lo'ak sitting looking at me when he realizes I'm looking at him he turns his head the other way. Now that i think about it he has been sitting there since i got back from the healing tent.

'Should i go talk to him?' i ask myself 'I should.'

I start walking over to him with a smile on my face, he notices me coming over and i can see his body tense up.

"Hey Lo'ak what are you doing here?" i come to a stop in front of him.

"Oh i w-was ju-just uh chillin yk" he stutters over his words.

'my god, he's so cute, i want him stuttering over his words while i ride him' omg! what the fuck is wrong with me why would i think that.

I think he could tell i just got surprised with myself.

'y/n? Are you okay?" he asks as he stands up getting closer to me.

I can feel the tension in the air as his face is suddenly a few inches from mine.

"Yeah im good" i see his eyes move down to my lips as he licks his own.

He leans in intel our lips meet and he begins kissing me, i kiss back and start getting a little more aggressive i bring my hand to the back of his head and put my fingers through his hair lightly pulling.

"mMm" Lo'ak lets out a whimper/moan.

I pull away and bring my hand down " i cant do this Lo'ak im sorry" i look down to my feet.

"Why not baby?" he asks pushing hair behind my ear.

"What would people think if they found out, im not trying to be mean but your kinda know as a bad boy yk, and i dont want people to not trust me with there kids im sorry"

I turn around to leave and i feel him grab my hand and pull me back.

"Then Teach me, teach me how to be a good boy"

[agirlsguidetolove]

teacher student relationship • tate langdon

SUM: Tate teaches reader how to kiss

warnings: make out, not proof read

“I really really really like him!”

Crisscrossed across from you seated on your bed, Tate rolls his eyes. His voice goes up an octave as he mocked you, “Oh, yes! You really really really like him!”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder. He barely reacts, just smirking at you as you scoff, “I’m serious, Tate. I don’t know what to do.”

Tate huffs, “So what you’ve never kissed a guy before.”

“So what? So what? You’re not understanding, I’m a sixteen year old girl who hasn’t had her first kiss!”

Your eyes are wide with your explanation, and Tate can’t help but find you adorable. Ignoring his thoughts, he continues on, “I’m sure plenty haven’t.”

“That’s not the point,” you groan before a solemn frown takes over your face. “I really need him to like to me.”

“Why?” Tate asks simply, looking at you with an expression between carelessness and careful observation. You freeze. Why do you need this boy to like you?

”I… I don’t know,” you mumble. “I just— I like him so I want to impress him.”

“Why wouldn’t you impress him?”

“Well, he’s experienced and I’m not…”

Tate raises a brow. “So how I am involved in that exactly?”

“I was hoping,” you start off slowly, picking your words carefully and trying to avoid Tate’s intuitive expression, “that you could help me gain some experience.”

He tries to hide his smirk, but he so does terribly.

“Don’t make fun of me!” you exclaim, immediately hiding your face with your hands.

“I’m not! I’m not!” he laughs.

“Hey.” Two hands grasp your own, pulling them off your face. You can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze. “How am I supposed help?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble quietly. “I was hoping you could show me how to kiss.”

Tate’s eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath. His adams apple bobs as he swallows. “You want me to be your first kiss.”

“Well, it really wouldn’t count since your a ghost and stuff, but yeah. I was hoping you could teach me how so I don’t fuck it up.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “C’mere,” he says lightly.

You do as told, maneuvering your logs to hobble over on your knees to you both are only a few inches apart. You bite your cheek to try and hold in a smile, you’ve never been this close to a boy before.

“How’s my breath,” you say awkwardly, exhaling with your mouth open.

Tate scrunches his nose. “Minty. You just use mouth wash?” You nod.

“It’s like,” you look for your phone, tapping on it to see the time. “1 AM. It’s past my bedtime,” you joke.

“Sure is,” he taunts. Tate’s hand comes to cradle the side of your face. You suck in a breath. “You gonna use some of that before you make out with the other guy.”

“Shut up.” You pick his arm. “Dick,” you mumble. Tate smiles. Dimples.

“Don’t breathe in his face, yeah?” he whispers. You roll your eyes. The hand cradling your face, maneuvers your head as he inches closer. “And tilt your head so your noses don’t bump.” You turn serious, watching him move closer intensity. “And then you close your eyes.”

Almost the second after you close your eyes, you feel Tate’s lips on yours. His lips are soft, lightly capturing your top lip between them. They move gently against yours until Tate’s free hand slips to your waist and it’s hard to breathe.

You push at his chest lightly, but instead of separating, his hand slides under your shit, pinching the skin on your waist. You gasp, and Tate’s tongue invades your mouth. The kiss isn’t as gentle anymore.

It’s hard to think, especially when you find your self falling back into the bed, head landing in the pillows.

Finally, you tug on Tate’s hair and his lips leave yours. At last, you can breathe.

You gasp for air, still being unable to think when Tate pecks your lips one more time.

“You’re a good kisser,” he says, “but I think you still need some more practice.”

[elite-amarys]

It occurs to me that we in the League Club often talk about our ranking system, but I do not believe anyone has explained how it works for the non-club members on this app. Please, allow me to provide a brief explanation in the hopes that this will encourage more to join.

When a Blueberry Academy student joins the League Club they are automatically placed in the lowest rank, which is Rank 5. There is no win ratio that must be maintained to stay in Rank 5, but there are minimum number of battles that you must complete every week. These battles must be against other League members, and witnessed by either a higher ranking member or Blueberry faculty. These battles are logged and recorded, and win ratios are tracked.

The next rank up, Rank 4, does have a minimum win ratio that must be maintained, though it is not particularly strict (currently it is 1:5 win:loss). So long as you are meeting your weekly minimum number of battles and maintaining the current Rank 4 win ratio you will hold your rank.

This continues to be true as you move up through the ranks. The number of minimum weekly battles does go up the higher up you climb, as does the win ratio that you must maintain. Because it is a ratio system, doing more than the weekly minimum amount of battles does not necessarily increase your rank, but there is a very direct correlation between how fast you rank up and how many battles you engage in weekly. This is because, of course, the more battles you do the better you become at battling.

Once you have increased your win:loss ratio high enough, you will be able to access Rank 1, also known as Challenger Rank. These are the club members that are permitted to challenge the Elite Four and, should they be successful, the Champion. There is no limit to how many times a Challenger Ranked member may battle the Elite Four, but if they make it through the Elite Four and up to the Champion and then lose they will be forced to restart their challenge from the beginning. Challenger Ranked members are not required to make challenges, but there is a very high win ratio that must be maintained. Battles against Elite Four members are counted in their win ratio.

The number of weekly battles that must be maintained, as well as each rank's required win:loss ratio can be changed at the discretion of the leadership team (that is, the Elite Four and Champion). We publish a weekly newsletter detailing each members' current ranking and exact win rate, challenger battle results, and any changes to the ranking system that have been decided on. This newsletter is posted on our website and emailed to our members, and is prepared and distributed by yours truly.

Elite Four members are determined by Championship seniority or Challenger ranking. Because this is a high school and an optional club, we do often lose members that graduate or simply decide to leave the club. If a Champion is defeated by a Challenger, the previous Champion is bumped to the top of the Elite Four and the lowest ranking member is bumped back to Challenger Rank. Alternatively, if a current Elite Four member graduates or drops out of the club, the leadership team will meet to review current and past Challenger Ranked members, their win ratios, and overall suitability to be an Elite Four member and offer their preferred candidate a spot on the Elite Four team. This successful candidate will be considered to be the lowest ranking member of the Elite Four, but can rank up if another member drops out or if they themselves make a successful Champion challenge.

Elite Four members do not have a specific win ratio they must maintain, but we do have a set number of Challenger battles we must engage in. This number is reviewed frequently, and determined by the amount of members currently in the Challenger rank. If we fail to meet our weekly quota we must submit a report detailing why (i.e. If there is an unexpected drop in Challenger Rank members who are actually attempting a challenge). Additionally, if we notice that a member is losing far more Challenger matches than the rest of the Elite Four team it may lead to a review of their title and potentially see them removed from the team.

So, to summarize. Everyone starts off in the lowest rank, and can battle their way up through the ranks by improving their win ratio. Only the members who reach Rank 1 may make a Challenge run against the Elite Four and Champion, and members in this rank are eligible to apply for an Elite Four position should one become available.

[evilkitten3]

Kakashi, 3 9 and 23

(tumblr decided to log me out right as i was about to respond to this i freaking hate this site gah)

ok, kakashi time!!

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

in shippuden kakashi tells naruto to keep quiet about what tobi told them concerning the uchiha massacre until they knew more (which does make sense, and i absolutely understand his decision even if i don't really agree with it) but then he never. actually tried to learn more about it. like bro the government you work for may have ordered the massacre of your student's entire family and you aren't. you aren't at all interested in following up on that? granted things got a bit out of hand, but then he became hokage. so. no excuse for that as far as i'm concerned.

by the time he bumped into sasuke right after danzou exploded himself, he already knew what tobi had said, and instead of trying to actually talk to sasuke - who is visibly having a breakdown of some kind - about that, he just. comes to the conclusion that now it's up to him to finish the job. of genocide.

on top of that, sakura not knowing the truth about the massacre is what led her to believe sasuke was insane and she had to kill him so he didn't kill naruto (or worse, force naruto to kill him), and kakashi could have at any point brought this up. if he was determined to keep sakura in the dark, he could've told sasuke "she doesn't know" or something, which sasuke probably wouldn't have cared about regardless but would've at least clued sakura in to the fact that something was up.

like idk if it ever occurred to kakashi, but if obito hadn't gotten squooshed, itachi would've killed him too.

so i guess what i don't like is that the kakashi who said "i will never let my comrades die" in the wave arc and who disobeyed tsunade and went after naruto in the retrieval arc turned out to have some conditions on that. gay sharingan rights but only for him, i guess

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

ehhh maybe? i think he could put up with my bs but i don't think i could put up with his. i don't really like being lied to, and while his reasons for being late are funny to see/watch, i'm pretty sure i'd lose my shit if it was happening to me.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

oh there's so many. ....i say that, but when i tried to think of my favorite panels involving kakashi, most of them were actually about someone else (gai or sasuke, typically). but here's a handful of good kakashi moments

...maybe this last one is my favorite tho

~technically that's treason~

[mostspecialgirl]

i dont think i can do “artist spaces” anymore because i’m really stupid. - ramble post with no point or central focus aside from making myself feel less weird

like…. i’m stupid. and i like it! But every artist i meet is like some kind of super genius and irs kind of nuts, everyone’s got such vision and intelligence and honed skill and all these interesting things about their lives and practice away from the arts and i’m some kind of inert orb who doesn't have much soul in her work aside from "isnt this cool like a animes" or "this is how im feeling". at least when it comes to Drawinf a Pitures.

i can deal with spaces where everyone’s just hanging out and Some People Happen to be Artists but spaces primarily composed of people steeped in the arts actually remind me that i'm a socially inept cavewoman who barely knows how to use the microwave. sufficiently talented artists ('sufficient' referring to people who have labelled themself an artist and have been online for more than 2 years) who i end up talking to online are 80% of the time some kind of Art Student Med Student Math Prodigy or Mentally Ill Genius Socially Inept Outsider Artist with insane Honed Unique Skill and when you apply that 80% to a whole lump of people in a GC or a Discord Server where the other 20% don't really talk there it gets real mentally exhausting as someone generally quite unimpressive and classically unskilled.

i dunno. I just kind of find it interesting that people with such talent, skill, wit, and (as ive repeated endlessly) intelligence are always drawn to the arts. a lot of my friends ive made who are very smart people ive learned 3 years into the friendship they used to do painting studies and are some kind of closet picasso while ive been showing them my meager collection of shale and sediment. is the pursuit of the artistic a mark of something deeper? what must one’s character lack to not seek creative self expression? what separates a creator from a consumer, and the blind from the perceptive? is creating art for the simple purpose of “cool and fun” shallow? does that answer change with ones talent? what is shallow art? is there truly such a thing?

cough

anyway. i’m just kind of a dumb baby, and it makes me sad that i never really feel like i can talk about art with most people because i don’t know anything. i’m not looking for construction or anything, i just want to be able to say “isn’t making something fun” without being reminded of my own inadequacies. i feel like art shouldn’t have to be this “smart” thing, and it isn’t, but art itself draws in the smart, and so like in many other spaces i feel a bit outcasted. obviously the solution here is to talk to MINORS from TIKTOK (gets cancelled)

but i really dunno. i feel stupid a lot these days and i feel like there aren’t any spaces that fit me, even when on paper these should be the spaces i should be in. even off the paper, anywhere i go i can’t help but feel like a bit of a bump on a log. like an erroneously flipped bit. i’m the stray ray from the sun beamed into the nintendo 64. that’s how i feel among other people, no matter who i’m with. it’s strange, because i really do like myself. i’ve passed a lot of the self deprecation and self doubt that used to chain me, and is it strange to say i believed casting those aside would help me find a bit more belonging among other people?

it hasn’t! life’s the same! maybe worse? i’m not self actualized or anything, but i think i’ve really grown as a person, so it’s sort of sucky that i fit better in place as a problem child. well i suppose as the Old Ones spoke, every group needs The Rick Friend. meeting people is hard. wanting to stay among people i’ve met is even harder. i like to blame a lot of it on the Modern Internet and the sheer amount of how many people have invaded my once cozy corners. with The Net these days being less of a space for Niche Freaks and instead being Grandma And Your Little Cousin Just Saw You Post Your Wiener On Instagram i’d think it’s only natural i’m running into less likeminded people. but i dunno. i feel like some of it’s my fault. i’m a weird little giblet of a girl, aren’t i? and man do i EVER hate people. I’m a big hater.

everybody i meet these days just makes me drool because everyone’s some kind of Valorant Edater or Reddit Object Show Minor or The Hypersexual or Someone I’m Too Intimidated By or Someone Who Does Not Want To Be Talking To Me. where’s Literally Anything Else. Everyone i meet these days fits into those categories. Give me anything else. What is wrong with my Spaces

i really don’t know how people make friends online these days. i’m always posting these days about Haha I Need Friends and Haha I Need A Wife that falls endlessly into the empty infinite void (much like now) for a reason. no matter where i seem to go, i walk dragging my feet, half-lidded and unengaged with a soft scowl on my face. i’ll figure it out, right? i’ll certainly make new friends, right? because i have to, right?

i dont wanna go to work tomorrow dude

[diamondcrownacademy]

DCA Info Part 23: Sagamore Dorm 🐻🏹🪶

Sagamore (サガモア寮, Sagamoa Ryō) was founded on the Diplomacy (外交) of the Princess of Nature's Voice and is inspired by the world of Pocahontas. Students of this dorm excel in Ancient Rune Reading and Archery.

Dorm Founder: Pocahontas

Known in-universe as the Princess of Nature's Voice (自然の声の姫).

Dorm Crest

The dorm crest features an emblem that resembles a wooden shield, with the interior being beige with light brown leaf and vine patterns and the exterior being amber orange in color. In the center of the interior, there is a compass rose with a cream interior with a brown circle outline in the center with a red and blue compass star in front of it. The compass rose additionally has a red and blue outline. Near the top of the emblem is a red banner with the dorm's name on it. Encompassing the center of the exterior emblem is a necklace that resembles Pocahontas' trademark necklace, on both sides of the exterior emblem are various red and orange colored leaves blowing in the wind and at the top of the exterior emblem are minimalist pictures of Meeko the raccoon and Flit the hummingbird.

Dorm Leader: Elu Sorrel

Sagamore's current dorm leader is Elu Sorrel, a princess who's skilled at archery and has trust issues with people trying to occupy the land her village is located at.

Dorm Fairy: Skili

Skili (スキリ, Sukiri) is Sagamore's dorm fairy and vice dorm leader. She is mellow and isn't much of a chatterbox but she is very patient with those who are energetic and hyper. She would take strolls in the forest area and converse with the animals, sometimes she'd bump into students in the forest. She is a fairy with few words to say but has a strong presence in the dorm.

Her current appearance symbolizes Elu's desire to become a great leader like her father. Someone who is approachable for her people but able to give off the presence of authority.

Dorm Living Quarters

• The Sagamore dorm living quarters building is built on a large oak tree that has a hollow inside but due to the several trees that intertwined with the outside of the trunk it can withstand strong winds and storms.

• The interior of the tree has become the world's biggest treehouse, with gears and pulleys that serve as make-shift elevator to the several floors that was built in. The middle has a staircase that leads to the same floors, this is also in case the pulley needs to be repaired or is unusable for the time being. The students use the tree as a viewing spot and help maintain the wooden contraptions inside. There's also a mini library, cafeteria and workshop built inside. The inventions are built with little use of metal and are built from organic material that is eco-friendly.

• Inside the tree, there are several nests for the birds in the branches while the base has several burrows for the woodland creatures. The students who are experts in animal care check on the animals for any injuries or sicknesses. Surrounding the dorm is a forest where there have been wood carvings and markers to make sure no one gets lost. There are several markers that specify whether it's a foraging spot, a spot for wild animals as well as a warning for dangerous animals or possible cliffs and dangerous plants.

• The students are good at geography and are able to navigate the forest surrounding their dorm with little difficulty.

• The student's personal quarters are located outside the tree base. They are intricately built log houses that it may look rather small on the outside but inside it isn't cramped at all. It is because of a certain magic that makes the room look so much bigger than the outside.The log houses are built at the front area of the tree so it looks like a small village when you see it from a bird's eye view.

• The students are also responsible for making their own furniture and the designs. There are plenty of art projects and inventions that are displayed around the area. There is a demand for their craftsmanship in the marketplace, you could find some of the students get opportunities from guilds who admire their work.

• There is also a large bonfire in the front of the tree, the bonfire has a fire fae that likes to make images out of the smoke and entertain the students.

Etymology

The dorm's name is derived from the word "sagamore" which is a word that some native American tribes use refer to their chief. This references the fact that Pocahontas (both the Disney version and the historical figure she's based on) was a Native American woman and the daughter of Chief Powhatan, the leader of the Powhatan people.

[music-for-them-asses]

Any tips for surviving college?

It's taken me a few days, but I think I got all my thoughts together! I'm sorry if this runs kind of long--there's a lot I wish I had known before going to college!

Academically, my biggest tip is to get to know your professors. Go to their office hours if you need help with a paper or test. Hell, I went to talk to some of mine for fun. It shows you care, and they can help you with whatever you need for your paper/test/project.

Rent or pirate your damn textbooks, do not pay those vultures a single dime if you can help it. My library had a lot of my textbooks, so I was able to check them out for free.

It's OK to not finish in four years. Take your time if you can. I barely know anyone who graduated in the standard four year time.

That being said, if you can get out early, get out early! Take classes at a community college during the summers. I tested out of English with AP in high school and took dual credit courses as well.

Get a planner. I lived and died by my planners (undiagnosed ADHD at the time, yay!!!)

STUDY ABROAD IF YOU'RE ABLE!!! My biggest regret is not getting to study abroad.

Socially:

It's no secret that I struggled socially because I had an undiagnosed social phobia. However, I did pick up a few things. Like: If you're staying in the dorm, they will put on lots of events to bring residents together. It's a good way to meet people! Even if you go and stand like a bump on a log, chances are someone will talk to you.

If you're staying in a dorm, get to know your RA. They're your greatest ally against any assholes living in your dorm. If someone's music is too loud, they'll be the bad guy and make them turn it down. Also, they have good insight into college as well!

If you go to any parties, always go with a friend. Don't leave drinks unattended, and don't let others get you a drink that's been opened. Parties are fun but you still should be safe.

Also, my biggest tip in general is to see if your school offers counseling for students. They can't prescribe medication, but that's when I started going to therapy, and I wish I had started sooner.

If you decide college isn't for you and you drop out, just know that I'm super proud of you for trying. I also know a lot of people who did not finish their degrees, but they're still doing something with themselves and their lives.

I hope this helps! College was fun, but it wasn't my high point of my life. Don't let anyone tell you it is, because that's a long way down to go afterwards.

[nickibun]

January 31st, 2024

12:12 PM

Café on Fifth Ave

— ed log:

Jasmine Tea | 0 cal

Latte w/ Almond Milk | 130 cal

— usage + mood:

i’m feeling still today. granted, i took 1 mg of kpin and a bit of doc before bed last night, then a bit more this morning. also 10 mg of adderall to balance it out. thought i’d be able to make it to class this morning. obviously, i didn’t.

i’m sitting in a cafe sipping this latte trying to find the will power to sit in a classroom with my peers. my professor hasn’t seen me since two weeks ago. i keep telling myself im ok, and i truly think i am, but whenever someone asks i suddenly break down.

— daily log:

yesterday, i woke up next to 'A'. we rolled around in bed, and cuddled, and pillow talked. i really started to believe i could open up to her. we've been talking for about three months, on & off.

i am beginning to really like her. i introduced her to some of my friends the night prior. we went to a party and had a great time. sneaking off into corners, doing bumps of blow + making out was my favorite part. the stares we'd get were a close second.

we're both fashion students, but shes a bit older. ive been skeptical as to whether she really likes me at all, but that night seemed to confirm it.

once the party began to wind down, things got a bit strange. id rather not relive it so lets leave it at that. i told her i wanted to leave. so we did. hopped in a cab back to my friend's place, grabbed my tito's and went to mine.

we kissed and laughed in the cab. we took our clothes off and snuggled in my bed. once the energy was right, i lit candles and played the right music. ate her out for an hour until she came all over my sheets. her moans live in my mind.

we took a bath together, giddy yet calm conversation amongst candles in the dark.

"we complement each other well" she said.

as she dozed off while i caressed her back, i couldn't help but realize i might be falling.

i went to the bathroom to get high again.

the next morning, she wakes up around 8:30 am.

im already up, crying on the phone to my best friend about who knows what. as well as starting an argument with my friends from the party. my energy is heavy again.

'A' texts me from my bedroom, "did you sleep at all?"

i quickly rush out of the bathroom, my pupils pinned and eyelids heavy,

"of course dear, i got up early. i didn't mean to scare you."

she raises her arms out of the blanket, signaling me to give her a hug. she can see ive been crying. we laugh and pillow talk all morning. we talk lightheartedly about our trauma, childhoods, and she tells me she really likes getting to know me when i show vulnerability.

the juxtaposition of morning sun on our skin, what others would deem dark topics while we laughed and cuddled and kissed make it impossible to not love her. ive never felt more comfortable or genuine with a girl before. she sees me. i see her.

my soul feels light once again.

we get coffee, she leaves for therapy at 11:30, kisses me good bye. calls minutes later to see if she forgot something. comes back. as i open the door she says she had found it but came to kiss me again.

my heart is numb but if it could, i knew it'd be fluttering.

hours pass, we both have class. speak at five, with no demise. then at nine, i begin to whine. paranoia creeps in. theres nothing wrong, except that the days been too long.

"whatre ya doing?"

she doesnt respond.

"never mind then"

i call her, she declines.

"im on the train."

i check her location,

shes a few blocks from mine.

i check again;

she turns it off.

im getting high again. i call my best friend and cry again. my energy defaults, heavy once again.