#to the point where she'd try to become one for fun | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostlynightpanda · 1 month ago

Note

Can you write something fluffy for Tendou? Maybe how you met and how he fell for you or something? I don't really care much what, just lots of fluff please <33

Guess My Feelings

A/N: Thank you for the request! I love writing for Tendou—he's my favorite character—so this was really fun!

synopsis: You transfer to Shiratorizawa in your third year and become the volleyball team's manager, quickly catching the eye of a certain redheaded middle blocker — and just as swiftly as you win his attention, he quietly steals your heart in return.

content/warning: Tendou Satori x fem!reader, fluff, 8.396 words

You stood at the front door of Shiratorizawa Academy, your new uniform still stiff with unfamiliarity and the morning sun casting long shadows across the campus courtyard. It was early spring—cherry blossoms just starting to bloom—and everything felt too big. Too clean. Too new.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and took a slow breath. Third year of high school... new school... new city... new everything. You hadn't expected to transfer for your final year, but life had a way of doing its own thing. Your father's new job had been a great opportunity—"one we couldn't pass up," your mom had said. And Shiratorizawa was a prestigious school, known for its academics, sports, and somewhat intimidating reputation.

So here you were. Starting over.

You navigated the wide hallways, passing students who were already forming their usual cliques. You caught a few curious glances—being new was like wearing a sign on your back—but for the most part, everyone seemed wrapped up in their own lives. That suited you fine. You'd settle in at your own pace.

After orientation, you found yourself wandering the school grounds during lunch, enjoying the crisp breeze and trying to get a feel for your new surroundings. You were just rounding a corner by the athletic wing when you heard it.

"Still no manager for the boys' volleyball team?" a girl's voice floated out from a bench where three girls sat with packed lunches.

"Nope. I mean, would you volunteer to work under Coach Washijo?" another replied, her face scrunched in mock horror.

"Ugh, no way. I heard he made a first-year cry just for misplacing a water bottle."

"And the team's scary too, right? Like... not mean, but intense. No thank you."

You slowed down unconsciously, your ears perking up. Volleyball team. No manager?

Your fingers itched with instinct—familiar, almost nostalgic. At your old school, you'd been the team manager for two years. You loved it. The rhythm of practices, the responsibility, the tiny details that made things run smoothly. Being part of a team, even from the sidelines, had always felt like home.

The thought sparked something in your chest.

After lunch, your curiosity was officially impossible to ignore. The rest of the day passed in a blur—introductions, class overviews, and polite smiles from classmates—but in the back of your mind, one thought kept looping:

Volleyball team. No manager. Coach is scary. Doesn't matter—I want in.

By the time the final bell rang, you had a plan.

You packed up your things slowly, casually turning to the girl sitting beside you. She'd been friendly during roll call and even pointed out the nearest vending machine earlier.

"Hey," you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "Do you happen to know who I could talk to about the volleyball team?"

She blinked, surprised. "You mean… joining the team?"

You chuckled softly. "Not as a player. I used to be the manager at my old school. I heard they don't have one here."

Her eyebrows lifted, clearly impressed or maybe just intrigued. "Wow. Brave of you." Then she glanced around. "Actually… you're in luck. One of the players is in this class."

Your heart skipped. "Really?"

She leaned closer, lowering her voice slightly. "His name's Soekawa. He's the vice captain. Quiet, but nice enough. That's him over there—see? By the window."

You followed her gaze to a tall, broad-shouldered boy with shaggy brown hair and a calm, serious expression. He was halfway through packing up, earbuds already in, head tilted slightly to the side as if lost in thought.

"Thank you," you said quickly, feeling your nerves stir.

You walked over before you could talk yourself out of it.

"Hi," you said, stopping a short distance away.

Soekawa looked up, pulling out one earbud. His eyes were calm, neutral.

"I'm sorry to bother you," you began. "I'm new here—today was my first day, actually—and I heard the volleyball team doesn't have a manager. I used to manage at my old school, and I was wondering… if you could tell me who I should talk to?"

There was a beat of silence. His expression didn't change much, but his gaze sharpened slightly, assessing.

"You managed a team before?" he asked, voice even.

You nodded. "For almost two years. Practice schedules, hydration, warm-up routines, keeping track of stats mid-match."

He gave a thoughtful hum, standing up fully. He was even taller than he looked seated. "Coach Washijo's really strict. Most people don't last five minutes around him."

"I can handle strict," you replied with a small smile. "I'm used to high expectations."

He actually looked impressed at that, just a flicker. "I'm Soekawa. Vice captain."

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you."

He gave a short nod. "If you're serious, I'll let the coach know. He'll probably want to meet you first."

"That's all I ask."

He looked at you for another moment—measuring your confidence, maybe—but finally gave another nod, this one slower.

"Be at the gym tomorrow after classes. I'll talk to him before practice."

You smiled, grateful and already feeling the thrill of reentering a world you'd missed.

"Thank you. I'll be there."

You showed up at the gym ten minutes early, nerves fluttering in your chest like restless birds. The sharp sound of volleyballs hitting hardwood echoed from inside. You stepped into the open doorway and waited quietly at the edge of the court, observing the tall players warming up and stretching with practiced focus. Their movements were precise, almost mechanical. No wasted energy.

Soekawa spotted you quickly. He jogged over, towel around his neck, and nodded toward the building between the gym and school.

"He's in the office. I told him you were coming."

You gave him a grateful nod and walked toward the room, following the short description Soekawa had given you. Your knuckles tapped gently on the open door.

"Come in," came a gruff, gravelly voice.

You stepped inside.

Coach Washijo sat at his desk, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable under bushy brows. He looked exactly as you imagined: stern, compact, intense. His eyes locked onto yours immediately, sizing you up.

"So," he said. "You want to be the team's manager?"

"Yes, sir," you answered, hands calmly at your sides.

"You understand this isn't a club of amateurs, don't you?" he asked, leaning slightly forward. "Shiratorizawa's volleyball team is not just some after-school hobby. We don't run around for fun here."

"I understand."

"Our team captain—Ushijima Wakatoshi—is one of the top three aces in the country," he said with clear pride. "National-level talent. Do you grasp what that means?"

You nodded. "That you play—and train—at a national level. That the expectations are just as high for everyone, even those supporting from the sidelines."

Washijo studied your face.

"I don't allow dead weight on this team. If you're not diligent, precise, and reliable, you'll be gone by the end of the week."

"I'm not afraid of hard work," you said evenly. "I'm serious about this. I know what it takes to support a team like this."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "What makes you so sure?"

"I was the manager for Itachiyama Institute before I transferred here," you said simply.

That made him blink. It was subtle, but there was no missing the shift in his expression.

"…Itachiyama, huh?"

"Yes. I worked closely with the team. Organized their travel for last summer's training camp, too. I know what kind of discipline is required. I know how to handle players at a high level."

"Sakusa Kiyoomi's team," Washijo muttered, more to himself than to you. He leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed but less rigid now. "That boy's one of the top three aces too. Only a second year."

You waited, saying nothing more. Letting your resume speak for itself.

After a long moment, he exhaled, almost like a growl.

"Fine. You'll start on probation."

Your heart jumped, but you kept your face calm.

"You'll show up fifteen minutes before every practice, stay until everything's packed, and listen to my instructions the first time. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't make me regret this," he muttered, already reaching for a clipboard.

"I won't."

As you left the office, you spotted Soekawa just outside the gym. He caught your eye, and you gave him a short nod.

You were in.

Not officially.

But almost.

You arrived at the gym fifteen minutes early, nerves tightly wound beneath your composed expression. The polished wood floor reflected the overhead lights, and the air was already heavy with the faint smell of sweat and determination. You had the distinct feeling that something important was about to begin.

Coach Washijo was already there, arms crossed and eyes sharp as ever. He gestured for you to stand beside him near the center of the court. You caught a few glances from players stretching or warming up—brief, curious, sizing you up.

Once most of the team had gathered, he raised his voice.

"Listen up."

Conversations died instantly. All eyes turned forward.

"This is Y/N," he announced, nodding to you. "She'll be acting as our team manager—on probation—until she proves she's worth keeping."

You smiled politely, bowing slightly. "It's nice to meet all of you. I'm looking forward to working with you."

There was a beat of silence—nothing unfriendly, just the kind of quiet that came with high expectations.

"Try not to make her job harder than it already is," Washijo added, voice gruff. Then he turned to you. "You can set up over there by the bench. Practice starts in five."

You nodded and moved quickly, already settling into the routine. Occasional glances came your way—nothing harsh, just curious. After all, you were the newcomer.

But you weren't here to be timid.

This was your world, too.

You started prepping water bottles, lining them up neatly near the bench. Every action had purpose, efficiency. Still, you couldn't help but notice how even the jokes were whispered—muted smiles exchanged behind shoulders, quiet chuckles that never reached Coach Washijo's ears.

You glanced toward the far end of the gym. The coach stood near the net, arms behind his back, eyes like a hawk's. Every time he looked in someone's direction, backs straightened. Conversations died.

Whoa. You'd expected intensity, but this was another level.

They ran drills like machines. Serves, receives, spikes—flawless execution, timed down to the second. And yet, something about it didn't quite sit right. You'd worked with a top-level team before. You knew the difference between focused and tense.

Then, somewhere near the midpoint of practice, the spell broke—just a little.

Coach Washijo stepped out of the gym for a moment, grumbling something about reviewing footage. The moment the door clicked behind him, you saw it.

Shirabu let out a breath and rolled his eyes in exaggerated exhaustion. Kawanishi muttered something sarcastic under his breath, and Goshiki —the only first year to be on the official team — finally relaxed his death-grip on the ball.

And then… laughter. Small and easy.

Semi grinned at someone. You turned to look and—

"Oi oi, you missed that by a mile!" a voice called, full of mock horror and delight.

You spotted the speaker instantly: tall, lanky, with red hair and a sharp grin that didn't seem to leave his face. He was draped over the bench like he had no bones, waving dramatically at Goshiki, who had just messed up a serve.

"Tendou," someone warned with a snort.

"You're breaking the spell," Semi added, amused but tired.

"Spell?" Tendou replied innocently. "I'm just trying to revive the boy's spirit before Coach turns him into a statue."

The mood in the gym shifted. Lighter. More human.

You watched with subtle fascination as the tension drained from the team—just slightly—but enough that you saw it: beneath the hard edges and intense drills, they were still just boys. Young men chasing the dream of winning. Friends, teammates, rivals.

They're not machines after all, you thought with a small smile. Just really, really good at pretending they are when the coach is around.

There was one exception.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

You tried not to stare, but it was impossible to ignore him. Every movement was purposeful, calm. His expression didn't change—at all. You weren't sure he could laugh, much less joke around like the others.

Even when Tendou clapped him on the back with a teasing, "Wakatoshi-kun, loosen up! You look like you're at a funeral," the tall ace didn't so much as blink.

A brick wall. Completely unreadable.

You mentally filed him under "TBD"—for now.

Still, as you handed a towel to one of the players and accepted a quick thank-you in return, you felt it: the shift. You weren't invisible. They had noticed you. And they weren't just intimidating athletes with perfect spikes.

They were a team.

And maybe, if you proved yourself, you could become part of it.

The sharp whistle echoed through the gym one last time as Coach Washijo called an end to practice.

You exhaled quietly, not realizing just how long you'd been holding your breath. The players bowed quickly, murmured their thanks, and immediately shifted into cool-down mode. The once-mechanical atmosphere softened again, conversation resuming now that the coach had retreated to his office.

You stayed in your corner, wiping your hands on a towel and beginning to gather the water bottles. You were about to carry them toward the cart when you noticed someone walking over.

It was Soekawa.

"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice quieter than during your earlier conversation. "That was a pretty intense first day."

You blinked, a little surprised by the gesture. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's definitely different from my last school, but not in a bad way. Just… more structured. Serious."

He nodded, the smallest flicker of a smile on his lips. "That's one way to put it."

Then he turned, clearly satisfied with your answer. "Glad to hear it. Let me know if you need anything," he added, and then jogged off toward the locker rooms with the ease of someone who'd already said everything that needed to be said.

You were just about to turn back to your cleanup when you noticed another presence nearby—less businesslike, more… curious.

"Tired yet?" came a voice, bright and sly.

You looked up.

Tendou.

He leaned casually against a ball cart, watching you with unmistakable interest, red hair slightly damp with sweat and a grin curling at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm okay," you replied, trying to match his energy—though something about the way he tilted his head made you feel a little like he was trying to read you.

"So," he said, drawing out the word like a thread. "How long have you been at this school? Just started, right?"

You nodded. "Yeah. We moved here last month so I could acclimate before starting on time for the new school year."

"New girl and the new manager? That's bold," he said, eyes twinkling.

You shrugged lightly. "I've done it before. Figured I might as well jump back into something I actually enjoy."

Tendou looked amused. "Where from?"

"Itachiyama."

That earned a low whistle from him. You noticed a couple of the guys—Semi and Shirabu, mostly—lingering just within earshot, clearly pretending to do cool-down stretches but very much listening.

"You're kidding," Tendou said. "That Itachiyama? As in 'super-tight-defense and Sakusa-is-a-germaphobe' Itachiyama?"

You laughed, genuinely. "The very same. Though Sakusa isn't actually a germaphobe. It's just a rumour because he doesn't like crowds."

He stared at you for a second, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. Then he straightened up slightly. "Okay, now I have to know more. You gonna tell me more about the team or is that classified manager info?"

You smirked. "Depends. You always this nosy?"

"Only when I'm intrigued."

His words weren't flirtatious exactly—just honest in that weirdly offbeat Tendou way. You didn't mind. It was… nice. The attention didn't feel overwhelming. Just curious. Playful.

Before you could answer, he added, "Don't worry. I'll be good. I won't scare you off."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that something you do often?"

"More than I'd like," he said, grin faltering for just a split second before it returned. "But you don't seem the easily scared type."

You tilted your head slightly. "Neither do you."

He blinked, like that answer caught him off guard—and then he laughed. Loud and sharp but not unkind.

"Touché."

There was a brief, comfortable pause. Somewhere behind you, Semi muttered something under his breath and nudged Shirabu toward the lockers. The eavesdroppers were finally retreating.

Tendou leaned a little closer, though not enough to cross a line. Just enough to let you know this moment wasn't quite over.

"Glad you're here, Manager-chan," he said, almost sincerely. "I think you'll make things interesting."

You smiled. "Glad to be here."

It started with a folded set of clothes laid neatly on top of your bag after practice a few weeks later.

A soft plum-colored jacket with white sleeves and Shiratorizawa Gakuen High stitched in crisp letters across the back. A clean collared shirt and track pants in the school colors, folded with near military precision. And tucked into the pocket—a note, in Coach Washijo's unmistakable sharp handwriting:

"You've proven yourself useful. Keep it that way. — W"

You stared at it for a moment, unable to stop the small grin tugging at your lips.

You were in.

No more "probation," no more careful watching for mistakes. You had earned your place.

When you walked into the next practice in your official team uniform, Tendou was the first to notice. He let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like he was in a soap opera.

"Our little manager's all grown up," he said, mock-sobbing into a towel. "Look at you, all official now!"

"Congrats," Semi called from where he was setting up cones. "About time, honestly."

Even Coach Washijo gave you a small, approving nod as you handed him the attendance list that day—a quiet gesture of acknowledgment that somehow meant more than any congratulations.

From that day forward, something shifted.

You weren't just "the new girl" anymore. You were the manager. Part of the team.

You got used to Tendou's strange tangents and weird energy—actually, you started to look forward to them. He brought a kind of chaotic comfort to the court, throwing jokes like volleyballs and weaving lightness into even the most grueling drills.

He'd trail beside you during breaks, pointing out which teammates had the worst taste in snacks, or leaning over your clipboard just to scribble "guess monster strikes again" next to one of his stats. He always made you laugh, even when you were exhausted. Especially then.

But there were serious moments too. Especially with Ushijima.

You quickly learned that as team captain, he took your role very seriously.

Every week before a match, he would seek you out—always with the same line.

"Let's go over strategy."

He was blunt. Always direct. But never unkind. He asked for efficiency reports, stamina trends, tendencies in other teams' rotations. At first, the silence between you felt… heavy.

But over time, you found a rhythm. He'd listen carefully to your insights and nod at your assessments, occasionally asking follow-ups with the same calm intensity he brought to the court.

One day, after you'd shown him a chart you'd put together tracking their recent practice intensity versus performance in mock games, he gave a rare, quiet response:

"Good work."

That was it.

But coming from Ushijima Wakatoshi, that felt like being handed a trophy.

You were growing into your role, and it showed—not just in your work, but in the way the team treated you. Goshiki came to you for pep talks when his confidence wavered. Kawanishi asked you to double-check his form footage. Even Shirabu, who rarely trusted anyone's judgment but his own, started pausing to ask, "Did you log that set? What did it look like from your angle?"

But through all of it, Tendou remained your most frequent and chaotic visitor.

He showed up by your side like a specter—half the time scaring you, the other half offering gummy worms or odd bits of trivia.

And you didn't mind.

Not at all.

You were halfway across campus, clutching a clipboard and a fresh sheet of lineup notes, when you heard your name.

"Hey, Manager-chan!"

You stopped and turned, spotting two guys from your parallel class leaning against a vending machine near the athletics building. You recognized them vaguely—neither unfriendly nor particularly important in your life. Still, you offered a polite smile.

"Hi."

One of them gave a dramatic stretch. "Heard you're managing the volleyball team now. That's gotta be intense, right? With that coach?"

"Coach Washijo?" you asked, arching a brow. "He's strict, yeah, but he's fair. He just expects people to take the sport seriously. Which they should."

The other guy snorted. "Still, isn't it exhausting being around all those egos? I'd fold in five minutes."

You kept your expression polite, if a little guarded. "I like it. They're a good team. Very dedicated."

That should have been the end of it, but one of them tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Even that one weird dude—what's his name again?" he said. "Tendou? The red-haired one? Man, he creeps me out."

"Yeah," the other added, "people call him the Guess Monster for a reason, right? Don't tell me you're comfortable hanging around that guy all the time."

You froze.

Your grip on the clipboard tightened.

And for a moment, something inside you snapped.

You didn't raise your voice. You didn't make a scene. But your tone cut sharp as a blade.

"Actually," you said coldly, "Tendou is one of the kindest, funniest, and most genuine people I've met since transferring here. He works harder than most of you probably ever have, and he still finds time to make everyone laugh even when he's exhausted."

They both blinked at your sudden change in demeanor, stunned.

"So if you're done talking behind someone's back, maybe try actually watching a match before judging someone who's twice the athlete you'll ever be."

Neither of them had anything to say after that. Just awkward glances and a mumbled "...jeez, okay."

You turned on your heel, storming off toward the gym, blood hot in your veins.

You'd known, in the back of your mind, that Tendou wasn't exactly popular. He made jokes about it sometimes—offhand mentions of being "the creepy one," of kids back in middle school who called him a monster, laughed at his voice, flinched at his grin.

And yeah, you'd heard the other version of his nickname too—the cruel one whispered between students who didn't know a single thing about him.

But it wasn't until now, hearing it with your own ears, that you realized just how much it pissed you off.

Not just because the comment was unfair. But because it was about him.

And maybe that was the moment it really hit you:

You liked Tendou.

More than the others. More than you probably should.

And it made your chest tighten painfully, because he didn't even seem to notice how bright he was. He didn't seem to realize that someone could look at him and feel their heartbeat stutter—not out of fear or discomfort, but because they wanted to be closer.

You pushed open the gym door, already trying to shake off the frustration before the team saw it.

What you didn't realize—what you couldn't have known—was that just behind the shrub-lined path leading to the entrance, two teammates had stopped to let your conversation pass.

Tendou and Ushijima stood in silence.

Tendou's eyes were wide, lips parted slightly, like he wasn't quite sure he'd actually heard what he thought he heard.

Ushijima, in his usual fashion, simply said:

"She defended you."

Tendou blinked once. Then again.

A quiet flush rose to his ears.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop.

He'd just… paused, hearing your voice, and then couldn't move once the words started coming.

Now, standing in the shadow of a tree with his heart pounding louder than the cicadas in the summer air, he could barely breathe.

You had defended him.

Not with pity. Not to score points.

With fire.

The gym was filled with its usual sounds—sneakers squeaking on polished floors, volleyballs echoing like thunderclaps against the walls, the occasional sharp whistle from Coach Washijo cutting through the air.

On the outside, you looked the same as always.

Focused. Efficient. Clipboard in hand, eyes on drills, scribbling down performance notes and hydration reminders. You made sure to hand towels out, fill water bottles, call out the time remaining on intervals like clockwork.

But inside?

You were still fuming.

The words those guys said kept replaying in your head—how casual they were about it. Like calling someone a monster was nothing. Like it was a joke.

You knew it shouldn't be bothering you this much. You'd stood up for him. You'd said what needed to be said. But still… the unfairness of it lodged under your ribs like a splinter.

He had been nothing but kind to you. Honest and a little strange, sure, but in a way that made the world feel more interesting. He brought you snacks he claimed "tasted cursed" just to see your reaction. He made you laugh until your stomach hurt during team dinners. And he always noticed when you were feeling off—even before you noticed yourself.

So why did people look at him like that?

You blinked back to the present when someone waved a hand in front of your face.

"Earth to Manager-chan," Tendou grinned, voice light and lilting. "If you stare at Shirabu that hard, he might combust."

You blinked. "What?"

He nodded sagely. "Boom. Right there on the court. One second we have a reliable setter, next second—charcoal briquette."

Despite yourself, your lips twitched.

You quickly looked down at your clipboard, hiding the hint of a smile. "I'm not staring at Shirabu."

"Hmm, denial. Classic sign of combustion plotting," he said dramatically, spinning his towel like a cape before hopping up to sit beside you on the edge of the bench.

He stayed there for a few minutes, talking nonsense.

A conspiracy theory about how Kawanishi was secretly a lizard person based on his snack preferences. A completely false trivia fact about the original volleyballs being filled with goat hair. Something about offering you a cursed potato chip that could grant one wish—but only if you licked it first.

You didn't say much in return.

But you smiled more than you meant to.

And he didn't leave your side.

Even later, as drills got harder and the team pushed through Washijo's punishing endurance circuit, Tendou kept glancing back your way.

Making faces from across the court. Winking when he caught you frowning. Mimicking Ushijima's stoic blocking form so precisely that Goshiki had to stop mid-serve to hold back laughter.

You chalked it up to him just being Tendou.

But what you didn't know—what you couldn't have known—was that he was trying.

Trying harder than usual.

Because he'd heard you defend him.

Because it still echoed in his ears like a dream he was scared to wake up from.

"Tendou is one of the kindest, funniest..."

He hadn't expected it. Not from you. Not from anyone.

And he didn't know what to do with how warm it made his chest feel—so he tried to make you laugh.

Because maybe, just maybe, if he could make you smile again… he could pretend that someone like you might actually think someone like him was worth standing up for.

Valentine's Day at Shiratorizawa wasn't anything special—at least, not in the way it might've been at a more laid-back school. Classes ran like usual. The hallways still buzzed with gossip, test scores, and club announcements. The only sign of the date was the occasional girl clutching a heart-shaped box or the flustered first-years whispering in corners.

But for you, it was different this time.

You had gone home that weekend instead of staying in the dorms. Your mom had greeted you with a knowing smile and a wink when you shyly mentioned your idea. Of course, she helped. She always loved baking—especially for a "cause" as pure as this.

Together, you had filled the kitchen with the smell of melting chocolate and warm sugar. You shaped and decorated each piece carefully, even labeling the gift boxes with tiny notes. You'd made something for everyone: players, the coaches, and even Washijo himself. It just felt right. You weren't about to exclude someone who contributed to the team's spirit—even if that spirit came with a terrifying glare and a whistle.

When Monday morning arrived, you carried the boxes to the gym in a large paper bag, your heart thudding nervously in your chest.

It wasn't romantic. Not yet. It was just encouragement, appreciation—team spirit.

That's what you kept telling yourself.

By the time practice ended, you waited just long enough for everyone to gather by the benches before pulling the paper bag from where you'd tucked it safely beside your gear.

"Uhm—can I get your attention for a sec?" you asked, raising your voice slightly.

Tendou looked up from where he was juggling a volleyball with his knees like a soccer ball, and the others slowly turned to you, some with curious expressions, some already guessing.

You cleared your throat, then reached into the bag, pulling out the first box—white with a neat red ribbon.

"I… know it's Valentine's Day," you began, voice a little shaky. "And I just wanted to say thank you. You've all been really great to me since I transferred, and I figured—what better way to boost morale than sugar?"

A pause.

Tendou's eyes lit up immediately. "No way."

"Manager-chan made us chocolates?" Goshiki gasped, as if you had presented him with an Olympic medal.

"Even me?" Coach Saito asked, somewhat amused.

You nodded, cheeks warming. "Even you, Coach. You're part of the team."

"And me?" Washijo's voice boomed from the sidelines, arms crossed.

You gulped—he'd been the one you worried about most.

"Yes, Coach Washijo," you said, giving a respectful bow as you handed him a small box. "Thank you for letting me be part of this team."

He stared at it for a long moment. Then, with a huff and a nod that could almost be mistaken for approval, he accepted it.

"Don't think this'll get you out of laps if you slack off," he muttered.

You smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Soon, the rest of the team was diving into their boxes, laughter and exaggerated reactions filling the air. Even Ushijima gave you an approving nod as he inspected the handmade chocolate bark you'd included in each set.

Tendou, meanwhile, held his box like it was made of glass.

His grin was wide—genuine, no teasing this time—as he peeked inside and saw the careful arrangement of chocolates, each molded into playful, irregular shapes. He looked at you, then back at the sweets, then back at you again, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to be this happy about something so small.

You caught his eye, offered a soft smile, and quickly turned away before you melted on the spot.

The warmth in your chest lingered, though.

Because this? This was just the beginning.

What came next... was for him.

As everyone began to leave, you stayed behind to finish cleaning the gym—just like always.

Wiping down benches. Picking up forgotten water bottles. Gathering towels for laundry. It had become part of your rhythm, and Tendou had slipped into that rhythm too, in his own way.

He sat cross-legged on the bench, elbows on knees, chatting aimlessly as he waited for you.

"So I asked Goshiki if he knew what aphrodisiac meant and he choked on a protein bar," Tendou laughed, eyes crinkling with delight. "I thought Semi was going to kill me for real this time."

You smiled, but it was a little dimmer than usual.

You finished folding the last towel and stood, stretching your back with a soft sigh. Tendou watched you, eyes flicking over your face. He didn't say anything right away, but you could feel it—the way he was studying you a little more carefully than normal.

You switched off the lights, the gym echoing softly as the doors clicked shut behind you both.

It was just the two of you in the hallway now, the buzz of the overhead lights faintly humming above your heads as your footsteps echoed in sync down the corridor.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced sideways. "You're quieter than usual, Manager-chan. Chocolate-related exhaustion or... emotional sugar crash?"

You huffed a soft breath through your nose, not looking at him. "No, nothing like that. Just... thinking."

Tendou didn't press, though his eyes lingered.

The night air greeted you when you stepped out of the building, a soft chill brushing over your arms. The walk back to the dorms was familiar by now, the path lit with soft lamps and the low rustle of trees.

You kept walking beside him, neither of you rushing. This part—just the two of you walking back—had become so regular it felt like a quiet tradition.

But tonight, your hands were clenched a little too tightly around the straps of your bag.

And when the moment came—where you'd usually wave and say "see you tomorrow"—you hesitated instead.

"Wait," you said, stopping him before he turned toward the boys' wing.

Tendou blinked, curious.

You fished into your bag again, this time pulling out a much smaller box. Not fancy, not decorated with ribbons. Just a small container wrapped in soft tissue paper. Handmade and simple.

You held it out with both hands, eyes on the ground.

"This one's for you," you said quietly. "Only you."

Tendou stared.

He didn't reach for it at first. Didn't move.

"Didn't I already get chocolate from you?" he asked, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth—but it didn't reach his eyes.

You swallowed. "That was for the team. This one... isn't."

He finally took it, carefully, as if he was afraid it might crumble in his hands. He looked at the box, then at you—searching.

You forced a nervous laugh, shifting from foot to foot. "I mean, it's not much. I just… I remembered you like the strawberry-filled ones. And the weirdly spicy ones? So I made a mix. Just... thought you might like it."

Your voice had gone a little too fast near the end.

And before he could say anything, before you had to see whatever reaction might cross his face—you dipped your head in a flustered goodbye.

"Anyway, night! Sleep well!"

Then you turned on your heel, walking briskly away toward your dorm before your legs could betray how shaky you actually felt.

You didn't see the way he stood frozen for a moment longer, staring at the little box like it might vanish if he blinked.

Didn't see the way his hands trembled—just a little.

And you definitely didn't see the figure of Semi, standing just down the path, arms crossed and smirking knowingly.

Tendou stood there a little longer than he probably should have, watching your figure disappear toward the girls' dorm building, the small box of chocolates still clutched in his hands.

He hadn't even opened it yet.

He was afraid to.

"Wow," a voice drawled from behind, laced with amusement. "Didn't know Valentine's Day came with a personal encore."

Tendou jolted slightly, turning around just as Semi stepped out from the shadowed edge of the path, hands shoved in his pockets and an all-too-knowing grin playing on his lips.

"Semi-semi," Tendou blinked, his tone too casual, too flat. He straightened, box tucked swiftly behind his back like he could pretend nothing happened—even though Semi had clearly seen everything.

"She made that just for you, huh?" Semi said, tilting his head slightly. "Didn't see anyone else get a second helping."

Tendou huffed a weak laugh, shrugging. "I dunno. Maybe she felt bad for me."

Semi gave him a look. "She blushed like she was going to combust, Tendou."

"Maybe she was embarrassed about her chocolate," he tried again, brushing it off, voice thinner this time.

Semi rolled his eyes. "Come on. She basically spelled it out. And don't act like you haven't been attached to her hip since day one."

Tendou's heart gave a sharp twist. "So?"

"So," Semi smirked, "she likes you, idiot. Like, likes you. Unless you're telling me she spent extra time making your favorite chocolates just because you're a weirdo she pities."

Tendou flinched—not visibly, but deep under his skin, where no one could see it.

His grip on the box tightened.

He wanted to believe it. God, he wanted to.

But belief came with risk. And Tendou Satori knew rejection. He knew it well—too well. It lived in the curve of every whispered insult he'd learned to ignore, every stare that lingered just a beat too long, every time someone recoiled from his smile.

He swallowed. "People say things they don't mean all the time."

"Do you really think she's that kind of person?" Semi asked, the teasing gone from his voice now, replaced with quiet sincerity.

That stopped him.

No.

No, you weren't.

You were kind. You were honest. You looked at him—really looked at him—and never once flinched.

He felt a weight lodge itself in his throat.

"She might've meant it," Tendou said softly. "But that doesn't mean I get to believe it."

Semi sighed, but didn't push. "You don't have to believe it," he said, already turning to head to the dorms. "Just… don't be stupid and let it slip away."

Tendou stayed there, unmoving, staring down at the box in his hand.

Maybe it did mean something.

Maybe that shaky, nervous laugh and the warmth in your eyes wasn't just kindness.

Maybe… just maybe, someone saw him and didn't want to turn away.

And that hope—that dangerous, beautiful thing—settled into his chest like a flickering flame.

He wasn't ready to believe it.

But he wanted to.

And that, for now, was more than enough to make his feet move.

Half an hour and a shower later, Tendou stood outside your dorm room door, unmoving.

The corridor was quiet now, the faint hum of the heater the only sound around him. His hand hovered just inches from the wood, clenched into a loose fist he hadn't managed to lift.

He'd been standing there for at least three minutes.

Maybe more.

Any reasonable person would have either knocked by now… or turned around. But he couldn't do either. He just stood there—heart hammering, thoughts a blur.

What if he'd misread it all?

What if the extra chocolates were just a thank-you?

What if Semi was wrong and he was just a delusional freak again, seeing things that weren't there—hoping for things that didn't exist?

He was used to rejection. He could take it.

But somehow, with you… he wasn't sure he could.

It would be different with you.

Because you were real. You were warm and kind and you laughed at his stupid jokes like you meant it. You looked him in the eyes. You never treated him like he was a monster.

And the thought of you telling him gently, kindly, that it wasn't what he thought—it made his chest ache in a way he hadn't expected.

He wasn't used to wanting something this badly.

But if he left now… if he didn't find out…

He'd regret it. That scared him even more.

So without thinking about it further—without letting himself stop—he knocked.

Once. Twice. Softly.

Then silence.

He heard a muffled shuffle, the creak of a bedframe, and a few seconds later the door cracked open.

And then there you were.

Not in your uniform anymore.

In cozy sweatpants, a slightly oversized hoodie that fell off one shoulder, hair tied up loosely like you'd just been lounging or studying or maybe both. You looked relaxed and warm and safe.

Tendou felt his brain short-circuit.

You looked… adorable. Like home. Like everything soft and good and impossible.

Something in his chest squeezed so tightly it was almost painful.

You blinked at him in surprise, tilting your head slightly. "Tendou?"

Your voice was quiet, a little raspy from not speaking for a while, and it dragged him straight back to the present.

His eyes widened. Crap. He was staring.

Mouth slightly open. Hands frozen at his sides. Just… stuck.

"…Uhh…" he finally managed, voice cracking slightly. "Hi."

You blinked again, then smiled gently. "Hi."

He felt his ears burn.

"I was—um," he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyperaware of how awkward he probably looked. "Just. I. Wanted to talk."

You stepped back without hesitation, opening the door wider. "Of course. Come in."

That single gesture—so easy, so you—nearly broke him.

You didn't hesitate.

Not for a second.

He stepped in slowly, the box of chocolates still tucked in his hoodie pocket, his heartbeat so loud he was sure you could hear it.

And even though he still wasn't sure if it meant what he desperately hoped it did, for the first time since knocking…

He started to believe that maybe—maybe—he hadn't imagined it all.

Tendou settled into the desk chair slowly, like he was trying not to disturb the air between you. His long limbs folded awkwardly beneath him, hands resting in his lap, fidgeting ever so slightly.

You sat on the edge of your bed, legs crossed, your hoodie sleeves tugged over your hands like a nervous reflex. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable… but it was heavy. Loaded with things neither of you had said yet.

Tendou's eyes flicked around the room — to your desk, your small shelf of books and snacks, the soft string of fairy lights outlining the window. Then to the empty bed on the other side of the room.

"Where's your roommate?" he asked, clearing his throat softly.

You smiled faintly. "On a date."

Tendou's brows lifted. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Apparently the guy she likes finally grew a spine and asked her out. So she's gone for the night. Snuck off campus."

Tendou snorted, a little surprised. "Risky move."

You chuckled. "She said it was worth it."

A pause.

Then: "So… does that mean we're alone?" he asked, his voice playful — but there was a nervous edge underneath.

You met his gaze, a little warmth creeping up your neck. "Looks like it."

His fingers twitched in his lap.

Another long pause.

He didn't know how to start this.

How do you ask someone if they meant it? How do you bring up the moment you've been replaying in your head nonstop since it happened?

Finally, you broke the silence with a soft voice. "Is everything okay?"

Tendou looked up quickly, blinking like you'd caught him off guard. "What?"

"You're acting a little… weird," you said, your voice gentle but honest.

He let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah. I guess I am."

You tilted your head, encouraging him to go on, but gave him space.

He rubbed his hands over his jeans, then pulled the little chocolate box out of his hoodie pocket and set it carefully on your desk. Like it was something fragile. Something that had been weighing him down.

"You gave me this," he said slowly, eyes on the box. "After practice. When no one else was around."

You nodded. "Yeah. It's only been, like, what—an hour ago? I do recall giving you this."

"Half an hour," he mumbled. His gaze flicked up to yours, and his voice dropped to a quieter register. "Why?"

Your breath caught.

There it was.

No beating around it. No jokes to mask the nerves. Just him — quiet, serious, vulnerable.

You swallowed. "Because… it was for you."

"I already got chocolates from you," he said, but not accusingly. Just carefully.

"That was for the team," you said, folding your hands together. "This one was just for you."

Tendou stared at you, wide-eyed, searching for something in your expression. You could see the disbelief in his face — like he was scared to name what he was hoping to hear.

So you gave it to him.

"I like you, Tendou," you said softly. "I have for a while now. And I wanted to tell you, but I was… nervous. So I made chocolate instead."

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. His eyes were locked on yours, and in them, you saw the storm — surprise, fear, something almost like grief, and underneath it all… wonder.

You offered a nervous smile. "It's totally okay if you don't feel the same. Really—no pressure. I know you've got a lot going on with the team and everything. I just… I figured I should at least say something. Better that than always wondering, 'What if I'd just said it,' you know?"

"You like me?" He whispered, staring at you in disbelief.

You nodded. "I do."

He let out a shaky breath — one that sounded like he'd been holding it for years.

"…Why?"

Your chest ached. "Because you're kind. And funny. You made me feel welcome here when I didn't know anyone. You never made me feel out of place, even when the rest of the team was still sizing me up. You're weird — in the best way. And you make me laugh every single day."

He still looked stunned.

"I know you've probably heard a lot of awful things before," you added, voice softer now. "And I know people can be… mean. But I never thought you were scary, Tendou. Not once."

He laughed — a quiet, broken sound — and his hands came up to cover his face.

And that's when you saw it.

His shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

You moved before thinking, standing up and stepping over to him, kneeling down beside the chair. "Hey—Tendou, are you—?"

He looked down at you, tears caught in his lashes, a trembling smile on his lips.

"I thought I'd dreamed it," he whispered. "That someone like you could… like someone like me."

You reached for his hand and held it gently. "It's not a dream."

For a long moment, he didn't say anything.

Then, with a laugh that sounded like joy and disbelief mixed together, he dropped to his knees beside you. "…Best Valentine's Day ever."

And with that, he wrapped you in a tight hug, squeezing you close to his chest as if he never planned on letting you go again.

Tendou's arms were locked around you, not too tight — just right — as if he was terrified to let go but equally afraid of crushing you in his excitement. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, shaky with leftover nerves, with relief, with something tender that had been locked away in his chest for too long.

You buried your face against his neck, heart still thudding erratically. The silence was soft now, no longer heavy. Just the hush of two people finally close enough to hear the other's heartbeat.

"I feel like if I let go, you'll disappear," he mumbled against your shoulder.

You smiled, your arms tightening around him in response. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tendou shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were still a little pink at the edges, but the look in them had changed — open, warm, happy. Really, truly happy.

"I want to take you out," he said, his voice suddenly steadier than you expected. "Like, officially."

You blinked. "You mean… a date?"

"Yeah. A real one." He gave a soft, almost sheepish grin. "Not just walking to practice together and sharing snacks after training — though I'd keep doing that forever too."

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest. "You really want to?"

He nodded. "So badly. I wanna take you somewhere nice. Somewhere you'd like. Maybe the bookstore in town you told me about that one time? With the bakery next door? I heard they've got those cookies you like."

You blinked, surprised that he remembered. "You remembered that?"

"Of course I did," he said, nudging your forehead lightly with his own. "I remember everything you say."

Your face grew warm again, and Tendou laughed softly, pleased with himself.

"I mean, I might not be super experienced at this whole dating thing," he went on, "but I want to treat you right. Like a queen. Like you deserve."

You reached up, cupping his cheek. "You already do."

He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment like the contact alone was grounding him. Then he opened them again, gaze clear.

"Still," he whispered, "I wanna try even harder. Just so you never doubt how much I like you. Or how lucky I feel right now."

You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his. "You're the sweetest guy I know, Tendou."

"Don't say that," he murmured, eyes scrunching slightly.

"Why not?"

"Because I'll melt again and you'll have to mop me off the floor."

You giggled, and he laughed too — that unmistakable, offbeat, boyish laugh that always tugged at your heart.

The kind of laugh you'd fallen for.

You stayed like that for a while longer — kneeling in the middle of your dorm room floor, just talking in hushed tones. Making soft plans. Promising little things. A movie night when the team had a day off. Cookies he'd try baking for you. A date at that tiny bookstore café. A life made out of small, sweet moments.

And when you finally stood up together, he gently took your hand, laced his fingers with yours, and looked at you like you were something out of a dream.

Only this time, he believed it was real.

And it was his.

Masterlist

#Haikyuu #Tendou Satori #Tendou Satori x reader #Tendou Satori fluff #shiratorizawa #satori tendō #Tendou x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #satori tendou x reader

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wingedshadowfan · 7 months ago

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some thoughts about the caitvi breakup scene

i saw ppl pointing out what looks like a tear running down caitlyn's nose after her and vi's fight w/ sevika and jinx (when she finally stops hitting the wall w/ her rifle and puts her forehead to it) and it could've been just sweat, but here's why i think it wasn't:

it's bcuz vi took the choice away from her.

we all know caitlyn's parents had been keeping her in a gilded cage since she was a child. we see this symbolically in her conversation with jayce when he gets kicked out of the academy after the explosion - he's outside in the rain, but she's within the gates of the kiramman estate, under an umbrella, protected, hidden. she tells him her parents don't allow her to talk to him anymore but she doesn't care. they're friends.

we know cassandra didn't approve of caitlyn's choice to become an enforcer either (we assume caitlyn had to fight for it and her family tried to stop her). even after that "win", her mother kept meddling and made sure caitlyn would always get safer tasks - out of harm's way and where she'd never be able to prove herself or do any actual good like she'd always wanted. her own coworkers make fun of her for being a kiramman and only "playing dress up" as an enforcer - a job she decided she wanted and had been working towards since she was a child, in order to help and protect people. she'd had to fight (not for the first time) to be placed on a case, in a real guard position, to be taken seriously.

caitlyn's choice and her agency - things she's barely been given in her own life, because of her parents, her name and how sheltered she'd grown up - she'd always had to fight for. she's had to fight to be able to choose, she's had to fight to defend her choices, and she's had to fight to prove herself over and over again.

then for the first time in her life, she didn't have to fight because vi (perhaps being swallowed by her own guilt for everything jinx had done to caitlyn) gave caitlyn the ability to choose what happens to jinx. unconditionally.

and caitlyn chose. vi agreed with her choice.

take the shot.

then vi took the choice away from her in the last possible moment, physically stopping her from shooting. (now, we can talk abt what that means to someone who's never been the stronger opponent in any physical altercation they've been a part of so far, but i won't)

this is the last thing cait needed to send her fully spiraling in the face of the adrenaline after almost dying again (sevika wasn't playing), the stakes of their mission and her trauma from jinx being unlocked. caitlyn completely disassociates shuts down, goes all out hitting the wall, possibly cries, refuses to look vi in the eyes and tells her, "i thought you were different but you're not"

she's yet another person who denies caitlyn the ability to make a choice in her life.

it's her blood in your veins.

to caitlyn in this moment, vi's loyalties lie with the blood of someone who'd worked for silco in oppressing the undercity, lured and blown up caitlyn's coworkers, tried to kill caitlyn (and vi) multiple times, kidnapped her from her fucking bathroom, dressed her up against her will, kept her hostage for a full day in which she with almost 100% certainty tortured her, kept her as the only person gagged throughout the tea party, asked vi to kill her, then blew her mother up along with 4 more counselors and (allegedly) attacked their memorial. talk abt taking someone's freedom of choice away.

then why are you the one acting like her?

vi - not fully without reason - compares caitlyn to her worst fucking nightmare. a psychotic killer who's caused so much fear and trauma to caitlyn that she admitted jinx's smile is all she sees when she closes her eyes, up there w/ her own mother's lifeless eyes?? and yeah, vi has a point - caitlyn had indeed grown more violent and aggressive in her desparate pursuit for revenge. that doesn't mean it hurts caitlyn any less, especially when she'd been trying so hard to do the right thing (sending a squad to catch jinx instead of a full blown armed invasion, only her and vi having hextech, clearing the streets first), and vi knows this: she just automatically did what she does best - aimed for where it hurts the most. i think she even realizes she's overstepped but before she can do anything about it, caitlyn bites back reflexively and hits her with her rifle. there, in the place of the wound she once took care of herself.

the perfect storm.

the only question i have left is why everyone in this fandom keeps acting like caitlyn is the only one who hurt someone and vi is the only one who got hurt in that scene.

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sweeneydino · 4 months ago

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Hi!! Love all the stuff you have on this blog!! I was wondering about your wrong parent AU, how would this change how the boys grow up, like with more of a motherly presence than their rat dad (though maybe she is just as a “sensei” as splinter…who knows XD) or is this like a time travel situation? AAA sorry im excited about this awesome AU!!!

Anywho, sorry for my ramblings I don’t write asks very often and there is no pressure to answer! Thanks so much for all the cool things you do! Lol I love seeing your stuff on my dash :D

It'd be a lot different! I guess I can list a few I thought of,,,

So, Rat!Mom.

She’s still a bit paranoid (how can you not be with the Shredder actively trying to find out what happened to you, where you are, and if you're actually dead), but shes more focused on trying to give her kids as normal of a life as she can and definitely not hiding all her stress underneath endless piles of work.

Mikey plays alot of games and is more adept at cooking, Raph's painting more often and always trying to help his mom with cleaning(yes, hes a mama's boy), Donnie is creating and creating and always wanting to go bigger, and Leo and Karai(yes, Karai :]) play fight alot(so many wars...) when they aren’t watching Space Heroes 24/7 or trying to explore outside the home.

Then, maybe during one of her dumpster dives, she finds some convenient "Chris Bradford" training tapes that they start to gain an interest in ninjutsu. She's not too pleased with it, but since they enjoy it, she tries to be more open to it(she conflicted)

They do go out and about earlier than Canon(with a curfew), meet April earlier too(her and her dad are a little different), and Karai and April become BFFS. (Unless...)

The kids still call her sensei or variations of mom, which ones? Probably all depending on what they did.

Now, fighting bad guys? She did not raise them for that /hj

In reality, when she sees her kids scratched up from fights topside, they are usually pretty quick to inform her what happened(except for two). They get carefully patched up, and scolded before being told to rest for a while(grounded). Which is definitely not so she can keep an eye on them.

And she is certainly not stressed whatsoever👍

Also…

“She was as beautiful as she was kind, and as kind as she was intelligent”

- Splinter

…probably meaning emotional intelligence, or somethin but i think itd be fun if she was just…. Fred.

As in Traps galore, I mean imagine it-

You're Chris Bradford, greatest actor (and martial artist ig) of all time, and your chasing what you presume to be your bosses stubborn former lover,(who you kind of hate ngl) and then you think you have her cornered, just for the ground to cave in beneath you cause whoops, she boobytrapped the whole place.

She can still be emotionally intelligent too, but the traps are staying.

Other than the traps, I do think Rat! Shen will have some other types of self-defense training during the time she was in hiding. Girl is not risking shit.

When it comes to VS. Shredder bits, she'd definitely use everything she can to her advantage, especially her rat abilities. Climbing, gnawing, scratching, hissing; just get the fuck away from her and her kids.

There’s no planned ships atm (other than Shen x Yoshi, but that's the point- hes ded anyway)

Lastly, Im thinking of probably at least three separate versions or “alternate timelines” for the WP au, or two divergents of the wp au canon lol. One where the original turts find Shen and her turts pre-adventure, one post-adventure and/or during the shredder kidnap arc(i will not elaborate) and the least timefuckery timeline where Rat mom and her babies gotta march on without future “assistance” 🤷 im sure they’ll be fine(they willllll)

Thank you all for being interested in this ^ ^ "

I actually don't have much planned for this since it was just another random idea(you can probably tell hdgdhdg), but I'm always happy to see everyone's ideas! It helps a lot with my scattered-brain--

And one FINAL, final thing

Im not sorry.

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nikamuhlsrealwife777 · 4 months ago

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WEEKEND GETAWAY - N.M.

This is official the first time I've tried to write smut ....idk if this will ever happen again...let me know if this awful to the point I should never come back on here...thank you and pls (try) enjoy

Warning ; smut ig

"Nika!"

Her laughter rang out in the small hotel room we booked for the weekend. The small trip being a getaway, a small treat. She rolled her eyes, "oh come on, I know you were thinking it!"

Her hand slid back up my thigh, trying to go further, but I swatted her away. "Niks, I swear if you don't stop-""

What?" She inched closer, our faces barely an inch apart, "you won't be able to stop yourself? Try me, pretty girl."

As the heat rose to my cheeks, I simply just looked away. Her chocolate brown eyes almost dragging me in, wanting to taste her sweet lipgloss covered lips.

"Aww, my baby tryna be in control?" Her hand had a mind of its own. Slowly traveling up my arm, touching ever inch she could. "You wanna be in control tonight, bebo?"

The way her first language rolled off her tongue was music to my ears, building up the feeling in my core that I was trying to simmer down.

"I need you to answer me," she was rough with her words. Suddenly, she was on top of me, holding me down in the king size bed she had to have. "Tell me what you want.

""I...uh," the words were lost in my throat. Her necklaces dangling in my face as she hovered over top of me. My eyes not knowing where to look; her dark and needy eyes or her full lips that looked so kissable in the moment.

"Speechless, huh?" The words slipped from her mouth as her head dipped to my neck, leaving open mouth kisses along it. The sensation releasing a couple embarrassing sounds from myself. "Don't hide them. I wanna hear them."

Her long, brown hair wrapped over one shoulder, the scent of it flowing into my nose at the closeness of our bodies. She lifted her head up for one moment, quickly tying her hair up in the messy bun I knew too well. "We're gonna have fun, lijepa djevojka, don't you worry."

Without hesitation, she started right where she left off. Kissing and marking my neck, leaving her imprint on me. Telling others I was her's, and I was.

"Nika..." Her name slipped between my lips. The sound earning a groan from the Croatian.

"Fuck...keep saying that..." Her kisses haulted, her eyes scanning over her work before she got up. "Undress."

"Huh?"

"You heard me," her shirt was thrown off in a second, I followed. My shirt thrown somewhere towards a corner, my pants right there with them.

"Look at you, so pretty. So so pretty." Her lips attached themselves back onto my body, her tongue darting out every once in awhile to soothe the spots she'd been working at.

"Niks...baby...I need more..." Against my skin I felt a smile grow on her lips.

"Where."

"You know where," she tilted her head, "Nika..."

"Fine...but I want you to beg."

"I...um..."

"Don't over think, just do it," her finger rubbed in a circular motion on my waist. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."

"Please...touch me...I need you to....please Nika...please," smirking, she slowly moves further down my body. Her lips kissing every inch of my body; my abs, the inner parts of my thighs.

"Can I?" Her fingers looped into the thin layer of cloth that stood between Nika and the spot I needed her most. I noded quickly. A soft chuckle fell from her lips, "you're a little needy."

"Nika, just..." I could feel myself becoming frustrated. Her smirk just grew.

"Be nice. You'll get what you want." With that, she pulled down, tore them off, and threw my underwear to the side. Her hands firm grip on my thighs spreading my legs apart before her head dived between them. Her tongue swimming through my folds before flicking at the sensitive bud, pleasure soring through my body. Her lips attaching to it, sucking it while two of her finger drove into my hole. In and out, in and out, repeating until my head fell back and breathless moans erupted out of me. Every touch, every flick, placed so meticulous that it was pushing me quickly to the edge.

"Oh my God, Nika, don't stop, please, don't stop," her mouth and her fingers worked so well. Her mouth sucking harder as another one of her fingers drill into me. "Fuck!"

Detaching her lips, she lifted her head to look at me. Hands grasping the sheets, my head back as profanities left my lips. My eyes meet hers for a split second, before they fell to her lips. Cover in the slick and lipgloss mix. Her tongue darted out, licking up any remnants that were left. A groan left my lips at the sight.

"Nika...I'm so close..."

She smiled, stopping all motions. Whines leaving me, trying to gain some friction to release the built up knot in my stomach.

"Nika....baby...please..."She pulled out her fingers, placing the digits in her mouth. "Stay put. I have to do something."

"Nika...what...what are you doing?"

"Just wait." She left the room into the bathroom. I heard some commotion before she came out completely bare... except the strap that was tightened just right to fit her.

"Nika...wait..."

Before the words even left my lips, the plastic filled me. A loud moan sounded through the room, Nika's hips moving in a steady pace, a pace just right that I could already feel myself tightening around the strap.

"Feel good, bebo?" I nod, no words could even be formed. A soft chuckle fell from her lips. Her head dipping down to leave kisses on my body. "You're so beautiful...so pretty...so perfect."

With her words, it snapped. The thin knot in my stomach broke, moans filled the room as Nika helped me ride out my high. I felt my body slump. Nika pulling out easily. She disposed of the thing hugging her waist, grabbing a wet towel. "Let me clean you up real quick, okay baby?"

A nod is what I managed. Nika's hands worked to clean, which she did quickly before she laid down beside me. Her hands pulling me into her. "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

I laughed, "Nika... we've been together for years. That wasn't the roughest you've gone."

She rolled her eyes, "still was good though?""Trust me, you could never disappoint in bed."

------

Sorry guys....

#wbb #nika muhl #wnba basketball #uconn wbb #wnba #wnba players #wbb x reader #womens basketball #nika muhl x reader #wcbb

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 8 months ago

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There are a few posts about yandere!JL with a shared darling, but there aren’t enough so I’d love to hear your take on it!

How would different members act? Are there scheduled times for everyone or is it constant group activities? Do they kidnap Y/N or do they wait? Are there common arguments? Does Y/N try to defuse the arguments or do they try to start them?

Love your stuff! And if I send any more asks I’ll go by 🪼 anon as I always do. Feel free to not answer this for any reason <3

Yandere Justice league x reader

The Justice League, each with their own possessive and obsessive tendencies, would create an environment that feels like a constant power struggle. They would argue over your time, your safety, and the best way to care for you, but all with the underlying motive of keeping you to themselves. Group activities would become the norm, as no one would want you to spend time alone with another member. While there would be scheduled "times" for each of them to have you all to themselves, it would eventually evolve into constant collective supervision. Each member has different ideas about how best to keep you close, and those differences lead to constant tension.

Superman would push for a more relaxed approach, wanting you to have a "normal" life but still under his watch. His concern for your safety would make him feel like he has to be involved in everything, even if it means tracking your every move from a distance.

He would try to maintain the idea of your autonomy while still keeping you close. Expect him to encourage group outings like picnics or public events, subtly keeping an eye on you the whole time.

He would argue with Batman about keeping you isolated. Superman would believe in a balance of freedom and protection, but Batman would push for a much tighter hold over you.

Kidnapped or waiting? Superman wouldn't kidnap you. He’d rather try to convince you of the benefits of staying close and protected without overtly controlling you.

Batman is the most calculating and controlling. He sees the world as full of threats and wants you isolated, with all roads leading back to him. The Batcave would become your "safe haven," away from the rest of the world.

He would not want to share you at all. If he had his way, he’d keep you secluded, only allowing others to interact with you when absolutely necessary. He’s the one who would argue most against the "group dynamic."

Batman’s obsessive nature would lead to tension with Superman and Wonder Woman, who want you to be able to have more freedom. He would argue that total control is the only way to keep you safe, something that would frustrate the others.

Kidnapping or Waiting? Batman would kidnap you if he believed your safety was compromised. He'd want you away from the world, isolated from anyone who could hurt you.

Wonder Woman wants to empower you, believing that the best way to protect you is through strength and training. She would train you in combat and see that as part of her role, giving you the skills to defend yourself while still keeping you under close supervision.

She might be the one pushing for group activities, where she can "train" and protect you, though not as overbearing as Batman. Still, she would consider herself your protector and would take issue with the others' methods if they interfered with her training.

Diana would argue with Batman over his suffocating methods, with Superman over his idealistic ways of keeping you "safe" without truly preparing you for the dangers of the world.

Kidnapping or Waiting? Diana would wait, but if she thought you were in danger, she'd likely whisk you away to Themyscira for "training" and protection.

Barry is the most carefree and fun-loving member. His desire to "keep you happy" would make him want to entertain you constantly, making everything a game or a joke. He’d want to keep you distracted and happy, sometimes to the point of avoiding serious issues.

Barry would push for group activities that are lighthearted and fun. He would create situations where everyone has to "share" you in a way that feels like a group adventure—whether it’s a spontaneous outing or a mission that somehow involves all of you.

He would clash with Batman’s brooding, intense control and Superman’s more idealistic, distant protection. He’d want you to enjoy yourself and keep things light, frustrating the others who want you to stay in a controlled environment.

Kidnapping or Waiting? Barry would wait for the right moment to pull you into a fun situation but wouldn’t force you into anything. His tendency would be more about bringing you into his chaos than kidnapping.

Aquaman is territorial and proud, often seeing you as his. His possessiveness would manifest in wanting to keep you close, but more because he feels you should be with him, ruling alongside him in Atlantis or in the surface world.

Aquaman wouldn’t be a fan of scheduled times; he’d simply take you wherever he goes, often pulling you into his royal duties in Atlantis or showing off his world.

Arthur would argue with Superman over his idealistic methods and with Batman about his isolationist tendencies. He’d feel entitled to you and see the others as threats to his claim on you.

Kidnapping or Waiting? Aquaman might wait for the right moment but would be quick to act if he felt that anyone was trying to take you away from him.

J'onn’s protective nature is deeply empathic. He would want to keep you safe, but more emotionally than physically. His psychic abilities make him attuned to your thoughts and feelings, so he would know when you’re distressed and act accordingly.

He would try to keep things calm and reflective, often providing emotional support and sharing moments of quiet. J'onn would be gentle, preferring one-on-one time to "restore" you emotionally.

J'onn would argue with Batman and Superman about what kind of protection you truly need—whether it's physical or emotional safety. He’d often remain neutral but wouldn’t hesitate to act if anyone got too controlling.

Kidnapping or Waiting? J'onn would likely wait, offering you his calming presence, but if the situation turned dangerous or emotionally overwhelming, he might take you to a quiet, secluded place to "heal."

John Stewart’s protective nature would make him focused on keeping you safe. He’d see you as a responsibility and would want you to train and be prepared to defend yourself. His sense of duty would often clash with the other members’ approaches, particularly Superman’s.

John would suggest more structured, scheduled activities where you could learn to defend yourself. He would believe in the importance of responsibility, often involving you in missions and team activities.

John would argue with Batman about the need for isolation and with Superman over whether or not you should be kept safe from the world or trained to face it.

Kidnapping or Waiting? John would wait, believing that in due time, you’ll come to understand that you belong under his care and protection, but if things got out of hand, he might move to take you somewhere he feels safer.

The arguments would revolve around control vs. freedom, isolation vs. integration, and training vs. protecting. Batman and Aquaman would push for isolation and control, while Superman and Wonder Woman would argue that you need more freedom to grow and learn. Barry and John would mostly act as mediators, though Barry would push for more fun and spontaneity, while John would argue that you need to be prepared for the world’s dangers.

If you want to defuse things, you’d lean into their protective instincts, assuring them that you're fine and that their concerns for you are valid. You could also play up to their more nurturing sides, especially with Superman and Wonder Woman.

Though, If you wanted to stir things up, you could subtly challenge their need to control you or manipulate the tension between them. You could play one against the other, making them feel insecure about your bond with someone else.

In the end, the League would constantly hover around you, trying to outdo each other in keeping you "safe" and in their care. Your life would become an endless cycle of arguments, possessive attention, and carefully controlled freedom.

(A/n: 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

#yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere dc #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #batfam x reader #yandere justice league #Justice League x reader #yandere JL #😺– request

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demigodsanswer · 1 month ago

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I would definitely love to read about Percabeth being a first time parent, how overwhelming it can be when the baby (Sophie) won't stop crying and you don't know why.

some asks have got me thinking about clarisse, so have some chill, genuinely friendly and helpful older clarisse, here to help percabeth

They'd tried everything.

The burping. The feeding. Bath time. Story time. Bouncing. Laying down. Sleeping in the crib. Sleeping in the bed. Percy had even tried doing what he could remember of the Solja Boy dance, which did seem to confuse Sophia enough that she stopped crying for about four seconds. But then she picked right back up again.

It wasn't stopping. Their daughter had woken up fussy, and after a diaper change and feeding, she'd started crying, and hadn't stopped for, by Percy's best guess, four and a half years.

"How long has it been?" Percy asked.

"One hour, thirteen minutes, and fifty-nine seconds," Annabeth said, bouncing Sophia in her arms, trying to sooth her.

"I'm texting my mom," Percy decided.

He expected Annabeth to push back, to insist that she could figure out what was wrong with her baby on her own. But she just nodded, too tired, and maybe too overwhelmed to do anything but agree.

Percy What do you do when the baby won't stop crying but nothing's wrong?

And then, he had another idea.

He copy and pasted the text, and sent it off to Clarisse.

If he'd told twelve year-old him that the girl who'd shoved his head in the toilet would become a close adult friend, he wouldn't have believed it. He still didn't really believe it. But they taught at the same school now, and (at least, pre-baby) she and Annabeth went bouldering together on weekends. Even weirder, she had three kids of her own. They were all loud, sticky, chaos junkies who tried to steal Percy's wallet for fun, but Percy liked them. They were cool little kids.

His mom texted back first:

Sally If she doesn't have a fever, you might just have to wait it out. She'll get tired eventually.

Not the thing Percy wanted to tell Annabeth, who's hair seemed to be getting taller and more frizzy as her stress levels grew.

"Here," Percy said, holding out his arms to take Sophia from her. "Lay down in the bedroom for a minute," Percy said. Sophia was only three weeks old. Annabeth was still dealing with post-partum bleeding, adjusting to breast feeding, and hardly sleeping the same as him.

Annabeth handed Sophia over without complaint, and flopped back onto the bed, a hand over her eyes.

Percy stepped out of the room and felt his phone buzz.

Clarisse Want me to help?

That was the worst possible thing she could have said. Maybe they were friends, drinking buddies, coworkers. But have Clarisse help him with his own kid? That was insane.

Percy didn't text her back. He just went back to trying to calm Sophia down. He even let Max, their beagle, try to help by licking her little feet.

Max was not much help.

Someone knocked on the door. Percy stood, Sophia in his arms, and looked through the peep hole.

Clarisse.

She only lived a few floors below them in the same demigod-safe building. War heroes didn't have to pay rent.

"I've got this under control," Percy said, opening the door and letting her in.

"Doesn't sound like it," Clarisse pointed out. She held out her hands, waiting for something.

Percy got defensive, and held onto Sophia. "Fuck off," he said. He said they were friends, he didn't say they were nice to each other.

"Don't be a bitch about it," she said. "You know what you do when she won't stop crying?" Clarisse asked.

Percy looked at her, hoping she knew where this girl's off button was. "What?"

"Hand her to someone else," Clarisse said. "Let me take care of her for a bit. Go lay down. Where's blondie?"

"Laying down," Percy said quietly. "I made her hand her over to me so she could take a break." Percy realized his confession put him in a pretty indefensible position. And sleep did sound great. "Okay, if you're sure," he said, handing Sophia over.

"I am," Clarisse said, cradling the still crying baby in her arms. His daughter's head looked like a tomato. "They teach you how to use a spear yet, kid? It's alright, I'll get you up to speed," Clarisse joked to the baby.

"Har har," Percy said. "She'll be hungry again in like an hour. I'll be out to feed her."

"Bottles in the fridge?" Clarisse asked.

"Yeah, some, and some formula."

"Then just get some sleep. I'll grab you if anything is wrong," Clarisse said.

"What?" Percy asked.

"I'm babysitting for you, dumbass. Get some sleep." And then her tone softened a bit. "No one can handle this all with just two people. I'm serious, get some sleep."

If she was being nice, actually, really nice, then he must look worse than he thought.

"Okay," he agreed. "Now, be nice, mind your manners."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Clarisse said.

"I was talking to you," Percy said, before making the confusing and baffling choice to leave his baby with his middle school bully. The choice seemed less confusing when he saw Annabeth already asleep. He got into bed, mumbled something to her about Clarisse being there, and drifted off next to her.

Sometimes babies really did cry for no reason. But she realized fast that this baby was crying because she was gassy. Clarisse laid Sophia on her back and moved her legs to get her hips and belly moving. Within seconds she was farting up a storm.

"Does that feel better?" Clarisse asked.

Sophia responded by scrunching up her face and doing a lot more than just farting. It went up the back. Total nightmare. But nothing unfamiliar.

Clarisse just tossed the white onesie out. It was beyond saving and not worth it.

Their little nursery was picture perfect. Pink and yellow walls with bunny rabbits painted on them, white furniture, hung and folded cute little outfits, neat bins of diapers and whips, in locations optimized for quick changes ... It was cute.

"Your mom knows how to put together a space," Clarisse said, wiping Sophia down with baby wipes. "I bet clean ups like these are easy for your dad." She wasn't crying any more, just staring at her with those big green eyes. "Your his, no doubt. Not that there would be. But you know how the gods can be sometimes ..."

Redressed in a new onesie, Clarisse picked her up and sat in the rocking chair -- plush, white, with a little fabric pocket over the side full of baby books.

"I hope you appreciate all this," Clarisse said, popping a pacifier into her mouth. "Second babies never get anything this nice."

Sophia didn't respond, but Clarisse felt like she at least understood.

Instead of reaching for baby books, Clarisse decided to take the opportunity to tell embarrassing camp stories of Sophia's parents, like the time Percy got pants-ed during Capture the Flag by an oak nymph who got offended after he tripped on one of her roots.

After a few minutes, Sophia started staring at her boobs.

"Those don't do that anymore," Clarisse said. "C'mon, lets get you fed."

It was weird how easily all the baby stuff came back to her, juggling bottles and the kid at once like it was no trouble at all. Her own kids were at summer camp, regular mortal day camp, not Camp Half-Blood yet. She'd have to go get them around four, which gave Percy and Annabeth a solid three more hours to sleep.

"I'll have to teach them how to fart you when they wake up," Clarisse said, balancing the bottle for her. "You'll probably get constipated again too. Happened to Hunter when he was a few months old. He didn't go for four days. We had to give him prune juice. It was a mess."

Sophia didn't seem too interested in that story thought, so Clarisse went back to telling her about how obvious it was that her mom had massive crush on her dad. "We used to tease her about it too. She'd get so red. I think we made her cry once. That wasn't nice of us. But it was funny. But hey, jokes on the rest of us, it all worked out for her."

Fed, burped, and changed, Clarisse rested Sophia in her crib, which probably had never actually been used before. She guessed the baby still slept in Percy and Annabeth's room.

Clarisse couldn't find the baby monitor, which was another sign that the baby was probably never far from the parents in the three weeks she'd been Earth-side. So Clarisse just settled in the rocking chair, put in one headphone, and caught up on some boxing highlights.

Sophia must have used up a lot of her energy screaming her little head off, because she slept for a good, long while. While she was still asleep, Clarisse heard a knock at the door. She got up, and spotted Percy's mom through the peep hole.

"Hi Sally," Clarisse said. She liked Percy's mom. She'd gotten to know her while Clarisse helped search for Percy the few months he'd decided to disappear and worry everyone in his life.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Sally asked, smiling and confused.

"They texted me that they couldn't get the baby to stop crying. I took over, sent them to bed," Clarisse explained.

"How's Sophia doing?" Sally asked, stepping into the place.

"Better. Just gas turned out," Clarisse said.

Sally's mom instincts kicked in in a new way, and she started tidying the living room, picking up toys and burp cloths.

"And how long have Mom and Dad been asleep?"

"Eh, two hours-ish I'd guess," Clarisse said. "I'm glad you're here. I need to head out soon. Got my own kids to worry about."

Sally smiled at her. "Thanks so much for your help. You're a good friend."

Clarisse tried to brush it off, but her face did feel warm. "It was nothing."

"Whenever you need to head out, I can handle things here. I'll let them keep sleeping," Sally said.

Clarisse nodded, and stuck around for a bit more small talk. But when Sophia started crying again, Clarisse took that as her cue to leave.

Percy woke up sweaty and disoriented. He looked over and didn't see Sophia in the bassinet. Where was his baby? What time was it? Annabeth was asleep next to him. Should he wake her? No, let her sleep. Their infant couldn't have gotten far.

Hand on Riptide (pen version), he snuck out into the living room.

He relaxed when he saw his mom laying on the floor with Sophia, who was doing tummy time (and doing a pretty good job of it, if Percy said so).

"Ma?" He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Memories of leaving Sophia with Clarisse came back to him then. "When'd you get here?"

"A few hours ago. Clarisse had to get her kids from camp," Sally explained.

"She called you?" Percy asked.

"No, we just both had the same sense that you and Annabeth needed a break," Sally explained. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," Percy said, "yeah, it was awesome. Is it tomorrow?"

"It's about seven at night," Sally said. "You got a good seven hours, give or take." That was the most sleep he'd gotten in weeks.

"Wow," was all he was able to say.

"How about I order us some pizza?" Sally offered.

"Olives for Annabeth," Percy said, still sleepy. He took his mom's spot on floor and laid in front of his daughter.

He still really couldn't believe she was real. Percy booped her nose, mostly just to have some reason to reassure himself that she was a real, physical person. Sophia wiggled a bit at his touch, and reached a hand out towards him, her little tongue sticking out between her lips.

There was the tiny creature on his floor, and she had his eyes. Percy reached his hand out, and let her wrap her fist around his finger. Her little feet started to kick behind her, happy, it seemed, to be literally wrapped around Percy's finger. There was this persistent heart-swelling sense of disbelief that he felt every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds. It was as if his mind couldn't quite put together that she was real.

"What got you to finally stop screaming?" Percy asked her.

"She was gassy," Sally said. "Clarisse said she got her to fart, and then there was a blow-out situation. And then she was fine."

"Huh," Percy said. "How'd she get her to fart."

"You have to help the baby move her hips," Sally said, tapping away at her phone to place the pizza order.

Percy picked up Sophia, who seemed relieved to be done with tummy time. Percy rested a hand on her chest, the other on her bum, and started to wiggle her hips.

"Shakira, Shakira," he mumbled to himself. "Yeah, those hips don't lie, do they?"

Sophia made a small noise that seemed affirmative, but Percy was pretty sure she wasn't making any actual intentional gestures or noises yet.

"Not like that," Sally said with a laugh, taking her granddaughter away from him and laying her on her back. She started to move Sophia's legs, pressing her knees up to her chest like she was in baby yoga. His mom must have done it right, because Sophia let out a big fart for such a tiny baby.

"It's just so cool to see her really taking after me, you know?" Percy said.

Sally smiled and ruffled his bed head.

"We'll need to wake up Annabeth soon," Sally said. "I'd love to let her sleep, but she'll need to breast feed."

Percy nodded. "I'll do that now, so she can eat when the food gets here."

He tried waking her up like a Disney princess, with true loves kiss. He got "no, fuck off, I'm tired," back.

"My love," Percy said, "I'm sorry, but --"

Before he could finish, Annabeth pulled herself up to sitting. "My boobs hurt. I know." She pulled herself out of bed with a groan. "What time is it?"

"Seven," Percy said.

He thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. "In the morning?"

"No, no, at night! Same day! Clarisse watched Sophia for a while, and got her to stop crying --" Annabeth pouted, her pride obviously wounded. "--and now my mom's here. She ordered us some pizzas."

"Is Sophia okay?" Annabeth asked.

Percy nodded. "Just needed to fart apparently."

"Go figure," Annabeth said, heading towards their bathroom. "I'll be out to feed Sophia in a minute."

"I'll tell her," Percy promised. True to his word, when he got back to the living room, he scooped up his daughter and informed her: "Mommy will be out to feed you soon."

Sophia seemed to understand who mommy was, and wiggled at the mention of her. Percy could have sworn it was intentional. Sophia had a big brain. Well, a big head really. Percy's big head. At Sophia's first doctor's check up two weeks ago, the pediatrician had looked at Annabeth and said: "Usually if a baby's head was that large, we'd be worried and run tests. But looking at your husband, I can see it's just genetic." Annabeth had been laughing about it for weeks.

Percy had to assume Annabeth's big brain was in that big head. Sophia seemed so smart already.

A few minutes later, Annabeth stepped out. For as tired and abrasive as she'd been a moment ago, that seemed to all wash off her when she spotted her baby again.

"There's my girl!" Annabeth said, taking her from Percy. "Did you miss us? Yeah, is your tummy feeling better? I bet you're hungry, yeah, lets get you fed."

With Sophia settled, pizzas on the way, and his mom compulsively cleaning his kitchen (no matter how much he insisted she didn't have to), Percy texted Clarisse.

Percy Thanks for earlier. That was really cool of you. We appreciate it

Clarisse No worries. your kid's pretty cool. less annoying than either of you It takes a village though, seriously anytime, i'm happy to help

Percy looked around at his little family, and remembered the young girl who'd shoved spoonfuls of nectar into his mouth while asking him a confusing string of questions.

He thought about what it would be like to go back and tell twelve year-old him "Hey, one day, you're gonna have a baby with that girl."

He wondered what his 12 year-old self would say. "On purpose?" He guessed.

And yeah. He leaned over and kissed Annabeth's cheek. She smiled at him, caught off guard although not surprised by the sudden burst of physical affection. She just just a kissy face back, and waited for him to deliver a kiss to her lips. On purpose.

I've realized I'm no longer thought of as a too Clarisse la Rue fan blog, so that needs to change lmao

#percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #clarisse la rue #sally jackson #percababies #future canon

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crafty-butch · 9 months ago

Text

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

#fiction #storycrafty-butch

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yuri-is-online · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, Yuri, do you think Yuu would ever run the risk of being put in danger by having a romantic relationship with any of the more high-profile members of the cast? I mean, we’ve got royalty, nobility, celebrities, and the very wealthy attending this school. I’ve just been rotating my brain about how these relationships would work out and Yuu is a pretty vulnerable target without NRC’s security. - 🦐

Hmmmmmm. I have a bunch of thoughts about this actually... I tried ranking them from least to most dangerous if that makes sense? But don't read too deeply into the bullet point placements they were mostly just a stream of consciousness thing.

Not that Risky (surprisingly)

Leona- we don't really have details about his brother's marriage, but I don't think his family has been shown to be overly keen on forming alliances with outside countries, the Savannah seems more concerned with itself. I don't think his family would be too fussed with his partner being a magicless person from outerspace, if anything this might be seen as a plus to the councilors that are always mocking Leona behind his back as his partner's lack of royal blood makes him even less fit for the throne. Not to mention Leona himself is more than enough to protect Yuu, he's the only royal at the school without a proper retainer (which you could argue is because no one at home likes him) but I doubt his family would let him do that if he was genuinely in danger.

Rook- he's Rook. His family does sound rather sweet from the very very very little we know about him (he also seems like he was kind of sheltered as a kid, something I should chew on sometime) so I doubt they would allow anything too bad to happen to Yuu.

Vil- his main issue is his contract, the Japanese Idol industry is cut throat and often sees things like bans on relationships as part of the contract. Vil doesn't want to risk his career or reputation, he mentions that he himself is a brand and I can't see him wanting to put that pressure on Yuu if they're not up for it. But... there are also celebrities who have really private personal lives and I sort of get the sense Vil is like that? And I don't think he would be too bothered if Yuu didn't want to be super public, it would certainly make it easier to keep you safe.

Idia- S.T.Y.X. might be a gloomy place but no one knows where it is

Medium Danger (danger is real but can be managed)

Jade and Floyd- we don't actually know what their family does, just that it's probably sketchy and that Mama Leech calls them every day, taught them self defense, and just generally seems to worry about them a lot. The danger is very real under the sea, but I also sort of get the sense that messing with the Leech family is skipping the fuck around and going straight to find out.

Azul- his business is going to make him enemies sooner or later, but at least during school Yuu should be more or less safe. Azul's able to keep on top of the students who mean Yuu harm, and Yuu is able to politely ignore their boyfriend's business (or maybe they have a knack for helping?) When you get older I can see Azul's need for a security team expanding, but he'll have money to get the best.

Riddle- ok so. I don't think his mom would try to kill you. But god she would be such a toxic person to manage. I'm actually working on a (very old) request atm that involves discussing what Riddle's mom might do if she finds Riddle with a partner instead of his studies (which I assume she's paying for) especially during his internship. She'd go full scorched earth and get very confused when Yuu doesn't back off like Trey did.

Huston We Have a Problem

Kalim- the amount of assassination attempts my poor boy has already canonically endured... I imagine there are probably going to be more in his future. I can see Yuu needing their own retainer (which could be a fun concept for an oc) to protect them and test their food. When Grim becomes a great mage I'm sure he could help with that actually, wouldn't that be cute?!

MALLEUS- acceptance of humans is virtually non existence in Briar Valley AND his mother hated humans so much she "blessed" her child to only be loved by fae. We don't actually know how the senate works but I imagine they would lose their ever loving shit if Malleus brought home a human as a friend and now he wants to make them his spouse? No. They say no. Time to show them what an absolute monarchy means I guess.

Assuming Yuu isn't in a relationship with Malleus I could see their friendship actually sort of being a boon to them, especially if Yuu was with Kalim or Azul. Pissing of the merchants is one thing, but the King of the Abyss? No thank you, they'll just take their losses and go.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #shrimp annon #it took everything within me to not add rollo to this list because we don't know if his family has money or not woirebtnoiewnrgoiewsmnygpi #lore in the tags for people who read it: i made some ocs for the fyuuture kid au #one of which was a retainer for the al asim family #who worked for a sibling of kailm's and was a friend of yutu's when he came to twisted wonderland

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lokisprettygirl · 2 months ago

Text

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read chapter 4 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary : How long will you be able to keep the truth away from Eric? Eric stumbles upon something.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, reader lacks bit of a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

Oh god. You couldn't even run even if you wanted to.

Your heartbeat sped as she suddenly got up, taking long strides towards you. The moment she was in your vicinity she gave you a big warm hug as if you both were best friends, you were slightly weirded out by the gesture especially when yesterday she was sending death glare your way for spilling the coffee on her.

“Heyyy y/n ..good to see you here..what are you doing here?” She asked, smiling from ear to ear, her white teeth sparkling, looking at you as if she was surprised that you could afford to be at a place like this. Well you couldn't but that wasn't the point.

“Ummm I'm here with my boyfriend…what are you uhhh doing here?”

The smile on her face was constant, she was definitely overcompensating because you had caught her sucking another man's face.

“Ohh just hanging out with friends” she answered so you hummed in response, you briefly glanced at the unknown man she was kissing just now. Friends? As in plural? No it was just one friend, one man, one whore kissing another man's girlfriend. “Look y/n..girl to girl.. since we are friends now. It's not what it looks like so don't say anything about this to Eric..”

She said to you so you crossed your arms. Girl to girl ? Friends? Sure you had known both of them for barely ten days but your loyalty lied more towards him.

“But you were kissing him” you mumbled sharply, surprised by the firmness in your voice. Why did it bother you that Eric was being cheated on? This was none of your business but it still bothered you a lot.

Maybe it was because underneath all that broodiness he really seemed like a decent guy.

“Yeah so? It's normal in our industry” she answered.

Shameless. Utterly shameless.

Was she really trying to gaslight you?

“Umm I don't think it is” You said to her, making her jaw clench in frustration.

The only reason she came here was because she wanted to stay incognito, it was an exclusive restaurant and only high profile people managed to get in.

She rolled her eyes, finally dropping her act.

“Look, just don't say anything to Eric. I'm not going to lose anything because he loves me and he's not going to believe a random client's words over his girlfriend.. Jesus, I thought we were becoming friends..can't you keep a secret for me?” She asked you, acting as if you were in the wrong that you caught her cheating.

“But if he loves you, why are you kissing other men?” You asked again, wanting to know why she would cheat on Eric. Ofcourse you didn't know him personally, but he was a handsome man and he was always nice to her.

“Look.. that guy over there" She paused as she gestured towards the whore friend of hers “He's a very influential man and he fancies me. I love Eric..i really do but you have no idea what he's like..all he cares about is his gym, his competition and his disab--” she caught her lips before she'd make this worse.

“You know he never takes me out on a date? It's me who has to initiate it.. and even then i have to drag him.. and it's not even fun because he refuses to eat anything that's not boiled chicken and other bland crap he is into..the only thing he truly loves is his body and that gym”

That was still not an excuse to cheat on anyone though. So What if he was passionate about his career and had dreams? Why dont she just break up with him if he wasn't a good boyfriend?

You were going to respond but then Jake approached you both.

“Where have you been?” He asked you before his eyes met with Regina so she gave him a smile.

“You must be the boyfriend..hii..I'm Regina” she brought her hand forward, smiling again from ear to ear, so Jake took her hand on his own and then much to your shock he bent down and kissed the back of her hand. The last time he did that with you was the day he had asked you out.

“Heard a lot of you..I'm Jake Smith..I'm a neurosurgeon” she let out a loud gasp as he said that.

“Oh my god you must be like a genius or something..lucky you y/n” she said to him. Now usually you fumed with jealousy when women who were prettier and hotter than you flirted with him but at the moment Eric being cheated on was the only thing that occupied your thoughts.

The worst part was that she seemed to have no remorse for it, she was instead justifying her actions. Maybe this wasn't her first time.

“Anyways..gotta go guys, hopefully we run into each other again Mr. Smith” she said to him before she pulled you in for a hug again.

“If you want to keep coming to the gym, just don't say anything alright” she whispered in your ear before she gave you a flying kiss.

Was she really threatening you when you had the upper hand in this situation?

Her heels clicked on the fancy marbled floor, you saw as she grabbed her homewrecking interloper's arm and they walked out of the restaurant.

“You see, you should dress up more like her..so classy” You heard Jake's voice so you looked at him briefly in disbelief “Don't worry I'll change your wardrobe..you're so hopeless.. it's cute” he said as he kissed your temple. The insult now sweetened by the affection.

*****

The following day at the gym you couldn't really concentrate on the workout even though Eric was shouting instructions at you. You kept thinking about Regina and her sidepiece.

“Y/N, focus. You’re going to hurt yourself”

You blinked, realizing your grip on the barbell was loose, your form was all wrong.

“Sorry” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Eric didn’t say anything for a moment but as you were resting between the set he finally spoke.

“You’re distracted” he said to you as he moved to the barbell to add a small plate on each side.

“Just…a lot on my mind” you said to him so he nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

Yes. The word was right there on your tongue. But the memory of Regina’s hissed warning rang in your ears. Would he even believe you?

“It’s nothing important”

Eric didn’t press you any further, he wasn't your friend afterall, he just gave a tight nod and went back to guiding you. “Alright. One more set. Focus. Don’t waste your own time”

You tried. You really did. But every time you looked at him, all you could think about was how unaware he seemed. It made your chest ache in a way you weren't expecting.

How would he react when he finds out? You really needed to do something about it, you just didn't know what.

After another set, you grabbed your water bottle and sat down at one of the benches as Eric set up the barbell for another exercise.

“Ummm that day at the restaurant..those guys asked about the prep..what are you prepping for?’

He was unloading plates from the barbell, his arm muscles flexing with every move, he turned his head to look at you, a little surprised by the question.

“A show” he said simply “National physique championship. It's at the end of next month.” your brows crinkled with curiosity as he said that.

“Like… a bodybuilding competition?”

He gave a faint nod, glancing down as he adjusted the screws on the rod.

“Like that..but it's completely natural..so no drug enhancer and steroids” he answered nonchalantly.

“Mmm good I heard those things are bad for you”

“They are”

“Is this your first time?” you asked another question, he didn't know how to feel about this. He wasn't used to talking about himself. There was only one person who took that sort of interest in his life.

“Yeah… I mean, I’ve done a few things here and there but nothing on this level” Eric said, his voice quieter now, more focused “Nationals are... different. Bigger stakes. Tougher competitions. A lot of guys train years just to qualify..and the winning amount.. well it will change my life”

You watched the way his brows furrowed slightly, how serious he seemed about it. He wasn’t just some gym bro showing off for Instagram, this really mattered to him. It made your chest twist again. How could Regina not see this? The way she phrased it last night was as if he was a musclehead neglecting boyfriend who didn't care about her when he was just focused on a goal he had to achieve.

“Well I can't imagine you not qualifying.. you're the most disciplined person i have ever seen” his eyes met with yours, he almost smiled. Almost.

“Okay enough about me. Come back now..you don't pay me to talk about me” he said to you but it was well intended, you groaned but eventually complied.

Later that day after work when you reached home, you still felt guilty, what's the worst that could happen if you tell him the truth? But after what he told you, you couldn't tell him, right? It wasn't just about you losing him as a trainer and losing the gym membership, now that you knew he was preparing for a competition, you couldn't help but fear that this will distract him.

After showering and eating as you laid down in bed, you opened Regina's profile, she had put up a few stories so you opened it,

“Hey guys..get ready with me while I tell you about how this gorgeous set from gymshark was ruined by a jealous woman”

She said and then a picture popped on the screen, the purple jacket, the same jacket she had worn the day you spilled coffee on her.

“Bitccchhh” you gasped out loud as she narrated the whole story and made it seem like you had run purposefully into her. Luckily for you she didn't take any names or you'd have been getting death threats in your dm right about now from her ass kissers.

Everything was clicks and stories with her wasn't it? Did she even care about Eric? It was funny how your view of her had changed so drastically in the past few days. You almost used to idolize her life, now you knew it was all fake.

For a week you sat with the secret but everytime you saw a post where she was flaunting him shamelessly the guilt intensified. But you didn't know how to go about it either.

You had just returned from the evening gym session. Jake was home and the moment you got out of the shower he pulled you in the bed with him.

As he took your top off he looked down at you.

“Don't look like you have been losing anything yet honeybear”

He said with a chuckle as he pinched your stomach between his fingers or more like the fat.

You swatted at his chest, feeling self conscious all of a sudden, there was a smile on his face but his words made your stomach twist a little. You had been trying. Harder than ever, actually. Eating cleaner, cutting back on takeout, dragging yourself to the gym even when every bone ached. But Jake’s words landed wrong—less teasing, more insulting.

“It's been like two weeks” you defended yourself so he chuckled.

“Just saying..if you don't make progress in the next month we will change the trainer..god knows if he's even qualified”

“Ummm he's good actually.. people see results eventually”

He rolled his eyes before he bent down and began kissing you, that's when you felt the familiar churn in your stomach.

“Ummm Jake I think I just got my period” you said as you placed your hands on his chest to pull him away.

“It's okay..you know I don't care-” he whispered in your ear.

“No my stomach hurts.. and it will get worse if I don't take the pill..” he let out a groan of disappointment before he got off you.

“Just great.”

You heard him murmuring as you almost ran into the bathroom to take care of the situation, as you opened the medicine cabinet, you realised you had run out of the medicine.

“Jakey…can you get me the ibuprofen..it's the only one that works for me” he was relaxing on your bed , his phone in his hand, he didn't even look up as he answered.

“Just take anything..a painkiller is a painkiller.. I'd know better im a doctor” your eyes teared as the pain just went from 3 to 4.

“I don't have anything else .. please just get me some”

“You seriously don't have any other painkillers in that cabinet? What the hell do you even keep in there then?”

He got up and put his shirt on, begrudgingly he agreed to go out. You felt bad as he never really got much free time, you wouldn't have asked if it wasn't an emergency.

Your stomach churned again, painfully.

You sat down on the bed and grabbed your phone to text Eric. You didn't think you'd be able to go to the gym tomorrow morning.

You : Won't be able to come tomorrow ..i have cramps :(

You pressed the send button. He responded almost immediately.

Eric : Where?

Men right?

You : ummm period cramps

You texted again.

Eric : ohh

Eric: Rest tomorrow then. Feel better soon.

You : Thank you :)

.....

As half an hour passed, you texted Jake to ask if he was close, you felt as if you'd die, he should have been back by now, he then responded a minute later.

Jake : Got paged, emergency at the hospital..wait it out, it's just cramps..you'll be fine

Your eyes teared up, you knew how important his job was to him but it would have barely taken ten minutes to just drop off the medicine and then leave. But maybe it was a life or death situation and he had to leave immediately.

A minute later the buzzer went off so you got out of the bed and moved to the living room to speak through the intercom

“Hello? Who's there?”

You asked but no response came, maybe someone has pressed it by mistake. You sighed knowing that you'd have to go get it yourself. You pulled on a comfy pajama before taking the elevator below

But when you made it downstairs and opened the front door you saw something on the stoop.

A small paper bag placed neatly outside the door, the kind you’d get from the pharmacy.

You bent down slowly, picked it up, and looked inside.

Ibuprofen.

There was also a note inside the bag.

“For your cramps”

The handwriting didn't match Jake, especially the way the r letter was written, there was a double swirl at the each end of the r, every r was written in the same manner which was unique.

You felt as if you had seen it somewhere, maybe he got his assistant Shane to do it for him.

You smiled as you quickly turned around and went up to your apartment. You couldn't wait a minute longer, the cramp was only getting worse.

Ten minutes later when the medicine finally kicked in you picked up your phone and texted Jake. He was getting late but he made sure the medicine reached you.. Why didn't he just tell you?

You : Thanks :) love you

Jake : Huh?

He responded.

You : For this

You sent him the picture of the pharmacy bag along with the text

Jake : So you found it? Happy now? :)

You : Very sneaky. Why didn't you just tell me?

You asked him but he didn't respond. You figured he got busy with the surgery.

************

Later that night you were relaxing, you had taken a day off from work too tomorrow so you were pretty excited about the off day. Maybe you'd even make it to the gym in the evening.

You had started to enjoy lifting weights and working up a sweat. As you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, a text from Eric popped up.

Eric : Uhhh warm bath helps with the cramps

You couldn't help but smile as you typed your response.

You : Thank you. I actually do feel better now. Don't kill me..i know it's not good and all but I took a painkiller..my cramps get really bad.

You responded.

Eric : It's okay. Would rather not have you in pain if it's not from working out.

You sent a laughing emoji before you typed again.

You : Thank you for checking in :) I might come in the evening

Eric : Rest if you need to. You don't have to push so hard. You're doing good already y/n and I don't say that very often so I mean it.

You sat up as you read the message. He was kind of sweet when he wanted to be. And that made you feel guilty again. He didn't even know he was being cheated on.

You : Okay but I can come if I want to?

Eric : Of Course. You can do whatever you want

********

Next day In the evening you walked towards the gym. When you entered, Chance greeted you..

“He's not here today. Did you have a session scheduled?” He asked so you shook your head as you made an entry in the register.

“No I just wanted to do something light..I'll just use the treadmill and stretch” he smiled as you said that “Ummm is Regina here?” you asked him so he sighed.

“No ..thank god” he rolled his eyes.

“Why did you say it like that?” you chuckled.

“Well what can I say? She doesn't deserve him” he mumbled, his tone was one of frustration.

Why did he say that? Did he know something too?

“Why would you say that?” you asked him but then the phone rang so he excused himself. You didn't want to stand there and appear overly curious about the situation so you stepped inside the gym area.

The gym was quieter than usual and you were glad Regina wasn't around either. You finished your forty five minutes walk on the treadmill and then did some basic stretches Eric had been making you do everyday. Once you finished you grabbed your bag and water bottle to head toward the reception area.

But then you paused mid-step as you stared at the whiteboard.

It’s where Eric usually wrote down the workout schedule, mostly his own. You never paid much attention to it but something caught your eyes tonight.

The list was scrawled in thick black marker, sets, reps, the usual but your eyes were stuck on one letter.

The R.

Your breath caught as you made the connection. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

You had never seen anyone writing their R’s in that manner and without fail each time there were two swirls at the bottom just like the note that was in the pharmacy bag..

************

Last Night

Y/n (Personal client) : Thank you :)

After reading your last message Eric put his phone back inside the pocket of his hoodie. The fluorescent lights of the pharmacy flickered faintly above as he stood in the long line. Last week the woman behind the counter had promised a restock of the specific prescription he’d been hunting for days. He had no choice but to get it today before it would get out of stock again.

He shifted his weight, checked his phone again. No new messages from you.

The chime above the pharmacy door jingled. Eric glanced over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on the man who walked in before he turned his eyes forward again.

He recognised the man really well. He never really forgot a face. It was him.

“Fuck you won't believe the long line here” the man said on the phone to someone “No the other one was closed actually” he sighed. Eric couldn't help but pay attention to the conversation.

“What can I say, she's such a klutz, she expects me to run out in the middle of the night because her stomach hurts. Jesus..I get one day every two weeks and this is how I get to spend it”

Eric turned his head slightly, expression unreadable as always.

His gaze stayed low, but sharp, as the man paced the aisle behind him, still on the call.

“I swear, man, the things I put up with. She doesn't even do anything all day. Just lying around after her lazy job is done with. And now she wants Ibuprofen specifically. Can’t even take a goddamn aspirin”

Eric’s jaw flexed. It was anger. The way he spoke of you, he recognised that tone really well. Was this how he treated you? Did you know how he spoke of you behind your back? Or How he portrayed you in front of his friends?

Is he the reason you seemed so desperate that night to lose weight? The reason you reduced to tears?

“Wait, hold on—Dr. Harris is scrubbing in on the Morris case? At our hospital?”

There was a pause, then a change in his tone. "Fuck no ofcourse I'm coming. I can’t miss that..it has been a dream of mine to watch him operate” he paused as the person on the other side spoke. “Nah, she’ll be fine. It's just a period. I’ll just tell her I was paged”

Eric watched as Jake turned on his heel and walked out. Without getting the medicine you had probably asked for. The door swung shut behind him.

Eric stood in line for several minutes, appalled and disgusted. He could’ve easily picked up the medicine and been on his way, it wasn’t like he was the one performing the surgery. And he knew enough about surgeries to know they took hours. Ten minutes wouldn’t have made a difference, especially not when his girlfriend was at home, in pain, waiting for him to come back to her.

As the line cleared in front of him Eric stepped up to the counter and passed his prescription slip.

“Anything else?” the pharmacist asked, bagging up the items he’d come in for.

He glanced over at the shelf nearby, eyes scanning quickly before he found what he was looking for.

“Can I get a sticky note please?”

He asked the woman so she nodded and offered him the note and the pen,he quickly scribbled down the words and put the note inside the bag.

“For your Cramps”

He already knew where you lived, but not your exact apartment number. On the way over, he called Chance to see if you'd listed it on the registration form and luckily, you had.

He set the bag down on the stoop before pressing the buzzer, hoping you’d find it. The idea of you being in pain bothered him more than he'd like to admit.

***********

Around 9 at night the next day, he was walking back home after closing the gym when he saw something that made him stop in his track.

It was your boyfriend again. Arm in arm with a woman that wasn't you.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit

#eric draven x female reader #eric draven x reader fluff #eric draven x reader angst #eric draven x reader smut #bill skarsgård eric draven #bill skarsgard eric draven #alternate universe

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manmadejoyswithinmycomprehension · 8 months ago

Note

would u write anything for homicipher’s mc (Adami) x gn reader…IM STARVING!!! I leave it up to ur imagination

HELL YEAHHHHHHHHH would you believe me if I said I did it already :3 a bit slow burn-ish, I cannot write without a fuck ton of context but enjoy mc saving u from Mr. Stitch bwhwwhhewhheqhhehwehwhehwheb I love her sm

You didn't know how you ended up there or when it happened. It just did. It took you a while to comprehend where exactly you had been transported. Hoping to meet someone else in this worn down place, you aimlessly wandered through the empty rooms and hallways. Coincidentally, you saw another man - tall, with a red jacket and furry hood. He rounded a corner and out of your sight, which prompted you to run after him without thinking of the consequences. As he passed by a door, it slammed open, and a pale hand dragged him in, the blood of the innocent man instantly splattering all over the floor and the surrounding surfaces. You cover your mouth and let out a small squeak before seeking shelter.

Thankfully, you found a pair of scissors lying around. That should come in handy! Shivering, cold, and distraught, you went slower this time, looking for human activity and someone worthy of your trust. A loud rumble echoed throughout the entire place, making tears well up in your eyes from the powerful scare. Was this your end? The hallway you were exploring split into two, and you ran back into an adjacent room. It seemed cleaner than the others, the wallpaper still mostly intact, a bed and a dusty table. On the bed sat a girl with short, white hair and blood stains in her raincoat. Oh, God. This is it. You're gonna die just like that man. You could just hope it was painless.

The figure croaked out something that you couldn't understand. It seemed to try two languages before finally deciding on just one. It pointed at you, repeating a word multiple times before the message was received by your disheveled mind: "You." She was saying "You." Then, she pointed to herself. "Me." Back then, you didn't know that "You" and "Me" would become so important later on.

You sat down on the floor, in front of her, looking up at the stained raincoat and the dirty crowbar that lay on the bed next to her hip.

"Me? You?" you said, moving your hands to check if you understood well. Her nod confirms your suspicions. Then, she points to different objects in the room and demonstrates how the language works. It felt like a breath of fresh air, having someone talk to you like an equal, in a place where you had been so violently proven that your life meant nothing. The bond had already started forming.

It only took a few hours for you to learn that primitive way of communication, and you started teaching her bits and pieces of your human language while she did the same for you. Using this, she introduced herself: Adami. Such a beautiful name... It had an exquisite ring, compared to the rough sounds of the ghostly people.

Soon, it became all about "You" and "Me." At first, you'd brush against her for comfort when a new entity approached. Then, slowly, she'd be the one to hold your hands when you were scared or when Mr. Gap appeared out of nowhere. "You, me, go together," "you, me, stay together" or "you, me, rest together."" It was sweet, having someone protect you in such a world. You didn't have the guts to question your relationship. Perhaps you were her comfort, maybe she saw in you what she once was. You were her anchor when she lost her temper, and she was your shield when a threat was nearby.

Nothing was clear to you. Friends did all of this, too, right? You were walking hand in hand, giggling at a joke Adami made when Mr. Stitch blocked your path.

"Me bored. Want fun?"

"No." she cuts him off furiously, shoving past him.

"Want fun! Want fun together them!"

The deranged ghost grips your arm, pulling you towards him as Adami holds onto your fingers.

"Them will not! You should leave!"

However silly this game of tug-o-war looked to an outsider, you were beyond frightened. Mr. Stitch was obviously not into the fun a normal person would resort to on a bad day. He was into the kind of fun that serial killers sought when sending body parts to the police. It was clear Adami couldn't help you - she'd hurt you in the process. Mr. Stitch ripped you from her arms, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of meat and ran off to God knows where. He hid you in the Cloth Monster's room, wrapping you in the long curtains that decorated it. Giggling, he gripped your throat and slithered the soft material around it, torturing you as he loosened and tightened it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gasped for air when the door slammed open.

Coughing when your lungs could finally expand again, your vision was still blurred when Mr. Stitch transformed into a jumbled up mass of meat right before you. A trembling hand ripped off the fabric and you felt the familiar presence of Adami engulfing you in a hug.

"Me scared..."

Your heart throbbed wildly as you returned the tender embrace, removing her hood to get a closer look at her features. No matter how much she transformed, her eyes were always full of warmth when she gazed at you.

"Love... You and me together... Me love you..." she whispers, her free hand tilting your face up. Adami gets closer, giving you the choice to accept or reject her. You instantly press your lips together, your bodies melting into each other as you let your feelings overflow, your only regret being that you hadn't seen it sooner.

It didn't take long for the other residents to pick up on what was going on between the two of you. Moreover, Adami didn't even look at the cold, metallic doors of the elevator with the same curiosity as she did when she first descended into the other world. To her, it now meant separation, as you two would return to your respective places on Earth. What good was the freedom of humanity, when there was nothing left of her without you? At first, you thought she might want to go back to her old life, yet she always held your hand tighter. "You, me... together here."

#homicipher #mr stitch #homicipher mc #homicipher x reader #homicipher x you #adami homicipher #adami x you #adami adashino homicipher #adami adashino x you #adami x reader #adami adashino x reader

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demonpiratehuntress · 2 years ago

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Y/n is a nice young woman and head over heels in love with her boyfriend Ace. Of course he too. But there is this girl on the ship, cute, lovely, accommodating and everything that makes a "cute girl". Everyone likes her and Y/n likes her too, until she starts getting closer to Ace. Like, unexpectedly hugging him from behind, clinging to his arm, giving him a slap on the bottom, jumping up to him like she hadn't seen him in forever. She's really attached to him and even after you very politely expressed that you didn't like it and neither did Ace. But after a short while she continues, whether in front of you or the crew. And at some point Y/n's patience breaks and she literally drags her away from him by her hair. No one ever expected that she could be so aggressive, insulting the girl with the most disgusting words y/n could think of. How does Ace react to this?[I'm soo sorry, it's so long😶‍🌫️ Hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable😵‍💫]

No worries! I actually really like this idea, so I hope you like this answer!

back off

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above, you don't like the new recruit when she gets too close to your boyfriend

warnings - swearing, violence from you at the end

Ace was too nice. You knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. He was way too nice and you always told him one day that would get him into trouble. You just didn't know that 'one day' would come so soon.

She was nice at first. Sweet, friendly, helpful. You liked having another woman around, because it gave you a break from the rowdiness of the men. She was great to talk to, and for a while was a good listener and a confidant you trusted. You had no idea where Marco had found her, but she'd apparently wanted to become a pirate so he brought her and Whitebeard allowed her to join, thinking it would be good for you. And it was.

For a while.

You started noticing her shift in behaviour when the crew stopped by an island to take a break and just relax, and you'd suggested hitting the beach with her.

"Will Ace be coming?" She asked, trying to mask the excitement in her voice but clearly failing.

You raised an eyebrow, "He's my boyfriend, so probably. He's clingy."

"That's so cute!"

You smiled, ignoring her wistful expression, "It is. He is."

Ace did join you not long after, surprising you by running up to you from behind and lifting you off your feet. You squealed in surprise and laughed, before your eyes widened when you saw the water getting closer and closer.

"Babe, no!"

"Yes," he answered happily, and you just knew he was grinning like the little devil he was.

Then you felt nothing but cold water, and when you resurfaced you gasped for air before shooting the cackling commander a death glare.

"Ace!"

"Sorry, babe, I had to!"

You laughed and shook your head, before witnessing one of the most uncomfortable and infuriating sights you'd ever seen. (Other Name) ran up to your boyfriend, jumped onto his back and locked her legs around his waist. She giggled innocently like that was a totally normal thing to do, telling him that friends gave each other piggyback rides sometimes.

You weren't so sure she saw him as a friend, but you grit your teeth and sucked it up anyway, not wanting to ruin the mood. Ace was confused, and also uncomfortable because he didn't really like anyone but you doing that to him, but he also said nothing. But for him, it was just because he was too sweet to speak out.

At dinner it was even worse.

She shoved herself between you and Ace, running her hand along his arm as she smiled and rambled on about something you weren't listening to.

"(Other Name)," you tried to stay calm, forcing a smile, "Ace and I were talking. Could you please move?"

"Oh, sorry!" She smiled at you, but didn't seem very sorry. Then she had the nerve to get up, move around your boyfriend, and force herself between Marco and Ace.

You grit your teeth again, but said nothing. Everyone was having fun. No need to ruin it with your anger, right? Besides, she knew he was yours, right? He knew that too. You trusted him.

You just didn't trust her...

Afterwards, Ace noticed your sour mood as you both walked to your shared room. He slid his hand into yours and squeezed it, looking at you worriedly.

"You okay babe?"

"I'm fine," you glared ahead. "Nothing's wrong."

He frowned, "But-"

You whirled on him when you were both in the room, "Why aren't you stopping her? I know you're nice, Ace, but there are limits."

His eyes widened, "Babe-"

"No, you're not even trying to tell her to stop! You always look uncomfortable, but you won't ever tell her to go away and stop it! Do you really have that little respect for our relationship?!" As soon as you said it, you regretted it. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"I know," he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you, "I'm sorry. I know I'm too nice to say no. I promise I'll work on it." He kissed the top of your head. "I know she's bothering you, and she's bothering me too. So tomorrow, I'll tell her to stop, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, smiling softly and burying your face in his neck.

The next morning, he did actually speak to her about it. He told her that she was making you both uncomfortable and that she needed to stop because he was already taken.

Her response?

She waited a few days, only to ramp up her inappropriate and infuriating behaviour.

"Hi Ace!" She greeted him at lunch one day with a smack to his rear.

That's when the atmosphere changed. The crew became nervous, knowing just how you might react to that. You had stopped walking, your eyes narrowing at the brave - and apparently stupid - girl, fury like no other building up inside. You were about to blow.

What the crew expected to happen, was far from what actually happened.

You stormed over to her and grabbed her by her hair, yanking hard to get her away from a stunned Ace. No one moved as you dragged her by her hair to the side of the ship.

"Do you know what 'no' means, you hairbrained little bitch?" You snarled, shoving her against the railing. You pulled her hair a little harder, and she yelped in pain. "Do you know what 'stay away from my boyfriend' means, or do I have to fucking beat it into you?"

The entire crew was silent, some watching in awe, others watching in terror. Ace felt a little bit of both, none of them had ever seen you like this but it was so incredibly hot he didn't want to stop you. It was sweet that you were fighting in his honour, but it was also so so sexy, and his mind was already drifting.

"Look at you, so pathetic and stupid, whining like a little baby," you sneered, unable to stop because all of this had just been building up. "Not so bubbly and sweet now, are you? Maybe this'll teach you to grope other women's boyfriends!" You pulled harder and she whimpered. "Such a whiny little thing. Won't miss you here." Then, casually, you threw her overboard into the ocean.

That's when everyone remembered how to move, and almost all of them rushed over to see (Other Name) flailing around in the water below. You turned and walked away, seething but trying to calm down.

Immediately Ace was on you, gripping your waist and pressing heated kisses to any part of you that his lips could reach. He kissed along your neck, along your shoulders, along your jawline...anything to show just how hot your outburst had been to him.

"That was so, so sexy babe," he was muttering as he kissed you. "You're so unbelievably hot. Can't believe you're all mine. Damn."

You blushed furiously, already over your little outburst. She was forgotten, your mind only on Ace and the kisses he was drowning you in. Then you gasped and laughed when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, marching you to the bedroom.

#one piece #op #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you

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tizeline · 1 year ago

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I’ve never seen a separated au with Leo being raised by big mama, what do you think that would be like? (Since he’s kinda rebellious)

For the record, there are AUs where Leo's been raised by Big Mama, the ones I know of are Gemini AU by tangledinink and True Colors AU by v-albion. I'm not super familiar with either of them, but they're there if you wanna check them out.

That being said-

LEO being raised by BIG MAMA omg I have THOUGHTS

Listen, I don't see enough people compare Leo to Big Mama, but he's quite similar to her. Splinter and BM never got a kid together, BUT IF THEY DID that kid would literally be Leo he's basically just a fusion of the two of them!!

As I've mentioned several times before because I love bringing it up, Leo is strategic, quick-witted, observant and good at talking. In the show (as well as in my own AU) Leo's strengths aren't really recognized, let alone aknowledged for a big portion of the story. Because of that, for a long time he doesn't really get the chance to develop these skills, as much potential Leo has to become a master planner his impulsiveness and inexperience has a tendency to get him into trouble.

BUT! All of these skills also happen to be skills that Big Mama has and would value in Leo. So if he were to actually have to opportunity to not only be raised by BM but also trained by her for his entire life. If he got to properly learn strategy, planning, manipulation...?

... Holy shit Leo would be terrifying.

Think about it, canon!Leo managed to out-smart BM in Many Unhappy Returns without any real experience, just imagine what he could do with a whole life-time of training.... yikes!

Not sure what exactly Big Mama and Leo's relationship would look like. In my opinion she would view him as her son and love him dearly, especially if she knew that he's Splinter's biological son.... it's just that BM has interesting ways of showing affection. ("The love of my life just proposed to me?? Great! I'm gonna lock him up in my gladiator fighting ring for the rest of eternity!") She'd at the very least be quite controlling, I imagine.

As you pointed out, Leo can be quite rebellious, so that mixed with Big Mama's obsessive need to be in complete control of everyone around her would certainly cause some tension. Actually... considering how clever Leo would be in this AU... uh oh.

All of these qualities that BM initially appreciated and encouraged in Leo, what if, as Leo became more and more capable, Big Mama started to eventually view them in a more negative light? If she feels like she's loosing control over Leo, if she interprets Leo's rebellion as not just a normal teenage need for independence but rather him malicously working against her. What if she starts viewing him not as an asset or as a tool, but rather a threat?

If BM has reason to believe that Leo might try to overthrow her and take control over her criminal empire, she might take preemptive action and get rid of him before he has the chance to get rid of her.... Not like murder-get-rid-of, I don't think she'd just kill him, lol! But like lock him up, maybe throw him into the Battle Nexus, I dunno. Anything that would allow her to remain in control of both him and her business.

As for Leo, maybe he would actually try to overthrow BM. Considering he was raised by a literal mafia boss, his moral compass is gonna be a bit wack. Maybe Leo's desire for control over himself would cause him to try to seize control over his mother's business. Oooooorrrrr maybe Leo just wants some independance but doesn't actually want to compete with BM, so when she interprets his actions and behavior as malicious he's not prepared for that at all and, as a result, is more than a little hurt that his own mother would take such extreme actions against him. Who knows?

Hhhhhhh there's a lot of fun posibilities here but MAN I'm not really in the mood to work on an entirely new AU. Maybe I'll create some art for it I dunno, this concept is really fun, but I'm not gonna turn this into a proper Thing, so if anyone else wanna steal this concept and explore it for themselves, feel more than free to do that!

#tizel talk #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rottmnt separation au #rottmnt leo #rottmnt big mama

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causenessus · 7 months ago

Text

present

part 0.1. I HOPE TO BE AROUND

"i hope to be around / the day we grasp in truth / the nature of mind i wonder at this light / enclosed in our soul, in truth / and bid our clay remain"

“man, this is bad…” the boy next to her matched her pace, but she could only spare a glance at him before they turned a sharp corner, hoping to lose the officers who were only a few seconds behind.

“it’ll be okay,” she offered, not sharing his sense of worry. she still had a few tricks up her sleeve and he no doubt did as well.

the plan had been to completely eradicate a rival corporation due to a deal gone bad. that part had gone well. she'd had a heel on a man's chest, pulling her blade back out of him when she heard her partner yell. it seemed that the police had had nothing better to do today and arrived quicker than expected. (or, maybe, just maybe, they felt that the alert of a psycho running rampant and creating new craters in the earth took priority over most issues. just maybe.)

the situation she now found herself in was bound to happen, she knew that. the only thing she was upset about was the fact that their fun had been ruined prematurely. but the rest of the job was done so she couldn't complain; they'd retaliated against a group who betrayed them and set the precedent that the port mafia could not be easily taken down. she'd stolen what little valuables they had left while chuuya was free to take out his seemingly endless anger on whatever poor soul his eyes landed on next.

she clicked her tongue as she looked back to see two men still chasing them. if they felt like being try-hards at their jobs today, that was their fault. she felt the dark tendrils curl down her right arm, becoming an extension of her reach as she stretched her arm back, raising the shadows behind the two law enforcers up from the ground.

their shadows became wisps, curling around their hosts’ legs and arms. it restricted their movement, causing one officer to yell in surprise while the other cursed.

a third officer came up behind them but froze at the sight. he attempted to pry at the shadows to no avail. ‘cute,’ she smiled in amusement. but it was impossible rid yourself of your shadow. it’s a part of you that never leaves.

tone of the paralyzed officers barked at the third officer to use his gun and she looked forward again at the sounds of the gunshots. ‘there they go. smart boys.’

they’d figured out a solution quickly but the distance she’d put between them and her gave her companion and her more than enough time to find an escape. they turned another corner, cutting through an alley.

“that was easy,” she sighed as they slowed down to walk.

“they’re like parasites,” chuuya cursed.

they’d learn later as they went on more jobs together never to say assume their job had been simple and finished until after they’d written a report about it and all was said and done. (once, chuuya had spoken the cursed words as they’d walked to an address to fetch a payment after an assassination, assuming things were finished and safe only for their supposed "payment" nearly blow them up.) but for now, they were still young kids in the mafia running off the thrill of adrenaline that came with defying the law and escaping authority figures.

or at least they thought they'd escaped. as soon as they exited the dark alley they cut through, they were blinded by the numerous guns and shields that reflected the sun above right into their eyes. safeties were clicked-off weapons aimed directly at the space between their brows.

one officer spoke for the rest, looking above his shield while pointing his gun at them, “hands up where we can see them. now.”

“chuuya…” she whispered as they both raised their arms. now it was his time to reveal a trick.

“grab onto me,” he murmured back.

another officer stepped forward from the mass, handcuffs in hand, triggering the duo to make their escape. she grabbed his shoulder while he placed a hand on her side, pulling her close all within the flash of a second. she felt the pressure around her disappear and in an instant, they were in the air.

the arc of officers who had cornered them looked up in shock but weren't given the chance to reposition their guns before the pair disappeared. they landed back on the ground, running across a street miles away from where they'd just been. she grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him down an alleyway familiar to her while he exclaimed. it had been nearly three years since he’d joined and every time chuuya thought he’d memorized all of the mafia’s escape routes, another one popped up.

she lifted up the lid of a manhole, ushering him in first before slipping in herself, slowly closing the lid right as she heard footsteps approaching.

she’d been right initially; this had been an easy job.

“you did finish the job, I suppose…that’s all I can say,” kouyou covered part of her face with the sleeve of her kimono, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“ane-san…”

“quiet, boy.” her red eyes shot open, giving him a dirty look. “next time, put a little more effort into not riling up the entirety of yokohama’s law enforcement. you’re not making anything easier for anyone involved, yourself included. do you understand? now get out. go home, or do whatever you children do,” she dismissed them with a wave and deep sigh.

the door closed behind them along with any last worries they had. the book had been closed. even if kouyou was mad at them at the moment, she’d probably forget tomorrow and they could do the same. they’d never have to think about it again–

“you two got in trouble didn’t you~” chuuya grimaced at the voice.

“get lost, piece of shit,” he sneered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“i heard it all,” dazai teased, following behind chuuya and her as they started to walk. “actually, I watched you guys the whole time, too. that was a real piece of work. what did you call one of the soldiers, chuuya? ‘fucking pussy more useless than dogshit in an unwatered field?’ i never knew your vocabulary was so expansive.”

“the fuck? you don’t have anything better to do as youngest port mafia executive in history than watch me do my job? watch me expand my fist up your–”

she had to stifle a laugh, trying her best not to irk the boy next to her even more. she realized now perhaps chuuya’s destruction today had been the first opportunity he’d really had to get all of his anger out over losing to dazai (again) in their latest competition to become an executive first. they both hated each other yet couldn’t stay away from each other or from making bets. maybe it was because chuuya hated to lose, maybe it was dazai's persistence and unforgettable presence, or maybe it was a mix of both.

“ah, and [y/n]-chan, the way you slit that man’s throat from behind before he even realized you were there…can you do that to me?” the brunette exclaimed, poking his face over the shoulders of both of them.

“i think your bandages would get in the way, dazai-san,” she turned her head to him. before he could respond, a gloved hand quickly shoved his face away from her, the brunette whining in annoyance.

“you suicidal freak! go take a fucking shower, or just leave us alone in general. all you do is curdle the air around me,” chuuya spat, and it was obvious all of the destruction and yelling he’d done earlier today had done nothing to help calm the rage inside of him.

“do I really stink? you’re the second person to tell me that this week!” the executive lifted up his coat to try and sniff it seemingly to no avail. “but chuuya, really– me, curdle the air? just saying one of your insults left a sour taste in my mouth.” he stuck out a tongue at chuuya who was turning towards him, fist closed tightly. she was sure she’d see the white of his knuckles if he didn’t have gloves on. “[y/n]-chan, do i really smell?” he turned towards her but he was cut short when she put a finger up to his mouth.

they passed by a fellow mafia member in silence, trying to be respectful, but it was clear he’d most certainly heard at least part of their conversation. it wasn’t like anyone would have the guts to stand up or question the executive that walked behind her (besides his arch nemesis who conveniently was walking in pace with her), but she’d rather not make more trouble for those around them.

which was a noble effort, but thrown in the garbage as soon as they passed the man and could no longer keep it together after a few beats in silence and dazai was the first to burst out in laughter. she leaned against a nearby pillar with the brunette, the both of them both trying to calm themselves down while chuuya tried horribly to cover up the smile instinctively stretching across his face as a look of anger.

what was it koyou had said? “go home or do whatever you children do?” rarely did any of them ever go home after a job. they were the port mafia, after all. they truly came alive as the sun set and the moon rose. here in the midst of twilight, evident by the blue moonlight coming through a nearby stained glassed window, was an oddly dressed bandaged boy wielding a knife as he carved something she couldn’t read into the side of the pillar they were leaning against. and with him were his two companions, just as equally as odd. most days ended in mischievous deeds, fits of laughter, competitions, and fights. that’s how it had always been.

how it should’ve always been if one of them hadn’t disappeared soon after.

m.list | next

extras <3

without revealing too much at the moment, [y/n]'s ability is called ikiryō. the word revolves around japanese folklore having to do with ghosts, however in tadano makuzu's book far north tales, makuzu talks about ikiryō as it was known during the edo period, as a sort of "shadow sickness" where people believed in doppelgangers and one's soul being able to separate from their body and taking form as its host's body (more to be explained about [y/n]'s ability but I would highly recommend looking into the folklore behind ikiryō it's super interesting :3)

as described in the fic a little bit, chuuya and [y/n] have an ongoing "taboo"/"curse word" in which every time they say "that was easy" before they've finalized the completion of the job with their contractor (or in most cases, reported to mori), something is bound to go wrong

this chapter takes place after the events of the fifteen and storm bringer arcs, in a small middle between dazai becoming an executive and the dark era :)

i am basically rewriting these chapters as i go from when they were first written back in january when I was a very different me but i'm not completely reworking everything so i'm not entirely sure what you guys are going to think of the quality of this writing 😭😭😭 but i'm so sorry if this is boring or cringe and pls lmk so I can improve!!

taglist: @miiyas @kameyyy @saoirseyun @phoenix-eclipses (form to be added to taglist! <3)

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