#took me today to get a strawberry for shu

[nexfarious]

after todays chaper(which is so good btw i love the little awkward romantic bits throughout your fic🤍 ur an amazing writer),, I wanna take shuichi to an arcade and win him a bunch of stuffed animals n prizes and spoil him DHJZBSK esp if it's his first time at an arcade (this is maybe a request 👀 if it's not too much trouble)

-💞anon

ARCADE DATE — SHUICHI SAIHARA

pairing — shuichi saihara/gn!reader

content — no killing game au, established relationship, food/eating mention, reader gives shuichi pet names (shu/shulock)

notes — heart anon!! hope you’re doing okay!! thanks for reading the chapter, took me a little while but i hope you like it <3 who doesn’t want to spoil shuichi, really?

i’m sorry this took so long, i rewrote it like three different times because i wasn’t happy with it :(

Your phone buzzes with a text from Shuichi as you sit outside the arcade, watching the neon lights blink in and out of existence.

Shulock <3

I’m really sorry, but I think I’ll be late.

It’s not that I don’t want to go, please don’t think that! I just got held up at the firm with a case.

You

it’s fine, i’ll get us something to drink. milkshake for me, coffee for you?

Shulock <3

That sounds nice. Thank you.

You almost laugh at the formality of his texting. Despite everything, it was a habit he’d never gotten out of — you could urge him away from all-nighters crammed with paperwork with the promise of affection, but you couldn’t convince him to stop using capital letters.

Sliding off the little perch you’d found tucked between the walls of the bustling streets, you head inside the arcade. The woman at the till takes your order for a strawberry milkshake and a black coffee, handing them to you as soon as her coworker finishes making them; there’s even a cute curly straw in the plastic confines of your milkshake.

After you add a lid to the coffee cup, you stroll off to an unoccupied table and shoot off a quick text telling Shuichi that you’ll be waiting inside. It doesn’t take too long for him to arrive, but you pass the time by watching a gaggle of kids gathered around a rhythm game, cheering their friend on.

Catching a glint of dark blue hair, you wave Shuichi over as he awkwardly hovers, undoubtedly looking around for you. He’s dressed casually, rocking a grey hoodie.

You hand him the coffee as he approaches. “You look tired. Everything okay at the firm?”

“A-Ah, yeah, it’s alright,” he takes a swig, careful not to burn himself. “Just another infidelity case that needs to be handled. It’s mostly boring stuff, like paperwork.”

“You don’t need to worry about all that stuff while we’re here, though. No cases, so don’t even think about it,” you chide lightly, finishing the last of your milkshake and binning it.

He nods and inspects the perimeter of the arcade, looking slightly overwhelmed by the maze of colourful machines and games. “Well… I was wondering if you’d show me around.”

“Sure, sure.”

When he finishes the last of his coffee, you take Shuichi’s hand and lead him towards a line of claw machines. He clings to your interlocked hands like a koala, trusting your judgement. With a light push, he’s placed in front of the controls.

“This,” you gesture to the prizes at the bottom, miniature stuffed animals with button eyes, “is one of the cooler machines. You direct the crane at the top with the joystick and try to get the prizes inside. It’s about precision.”

You insert the money, watching Shuichi laser focus on a tiny stuffed penguin. He gets the hang of the controls pretty quickly and you watch him struggle to grasp the poor animal between the metal jaws of the crane. By the sixth or seventh attempt, he frowns, unsuccessfully watching the empty claws return back to the original position.

Shuichi gives you a resigned look, “I, uh, don’t think I’m very good at this…”

“That’s okay!” you’re quick to reassure him, “first time for everything. Let me have a go. You wanted that penguin, right?”

Ignoring his protest of you really don’t have to!, you insert another coin in the hopes of living up to your own expectations of getting that penguin. It takes you a few tries as it slips out of your grasp multiple times and you even outwardly curse the machine, but that slippery penguin ends up caught on your hook, falling into the grey depths.

You retrieve the plushie with a gentle hand, holding it out to the detective. “Here you go. For a hardworking boyfriend.”

“Y/N…” he covers his face, hiding his lovesick red blush, though you can see the nervous smile peeking underneath. “Th-Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, Shu.”

You move his hand away to sneak a kiss on his cheek while no one’s looking, laughing gently when he shuts down from the sudden burst of affection. He needs a moment to recover, you realise, backing away to let him reclaim his personal space.

After Shuichi regains his bodily functions, you lead him over to the air hockey table and challenge him to a game. A vivid line of glowing plastic splits the table down the middle and you take up the purple side, explaining the rules as you insert the money and the air powers up.

He figures this one out pretty quickly and you’re soon outmatched — though you had an early lead by taking advantage of Shuichi’s lack of knowledge on the game, he quickly accesses the weak spots in your defence and exploits them, bouncing the puck off the walls and confusing your peripheral vision.

You’re more enamoured by his expression. Though his face is pinched in concentration and his eyes are darting back and forth between your side of the table and his own, he seems to have completely forgotten about the presence of anyone else. Wearing a fiery determination that you’d only seen after becoming particularly passionate about a case, you’re unable to focus on the game.

Eventually, Shuichi hits it into your goal once more and no puck returns, the icy display lights up and leaves you with a flustered expression and a crushing loss of five to three.

You’ve never been so happy to lose.

[maywrites264]

Clock Out [Charisma House Fanfic]

About

- Has Kaname in it.

- Basically my idea for what would be a season 3 premiere.

- Shu Matsubara please consider me as a cowriter for official Charisma House episodes /j

- I have not watched every single episode of the series so if some stuff is wrong. Too bad I guess.

- Updates every Sunday

- Content Warnings: Um…none, I guess? Unless you count a somewhat intense argument between a mother and child? Also pedophilia is mentioned in (1) line.

Navigation

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Chapter 1 (Order Up!)

Working at a full time job can be a huge commitment for someone, as they would spend most of the day working rather than engaging in hobbies or things they enjoy. For Kaname Maeno, he was up for the task of taking a job to better his life. He only lived with his mom before starting work, and was an unemployed high school graduate with no interest in any higher education, as he’d much rather be playing video games in his room than doing anything else.

His mother was disappointed, because she knew her son had potential, he just wasn’t using it. Perhaps employment could be the key for him to get out of his hikikomori lifestyle. He could make friends at work, and seek higher opportunities once he makes a stable enough income. But of course, this is not the way things went. At least, not at first.

It had been about a week since Kaname started working at the café known as Caralatte, and it wasn’t super great in his experience. As a waiter, he had to take every order with a smile, but secretly hated every second. It seemed like every customer went out of their way to ignore him, whether it were the teenage girls thinking he was the most adorable little thing, or the old perverts who wanted to get close to someone who looked like a little boy.

But yesterday was somewhat pleasant…or at least it was better than the previous days. Kaname saw a face that he never met before, a boy who seemed to be around his age, with short black hair and an orange outfit. This person looked relatively normal, but he was prepared for the worst.

As the other waiters were busy with other customers, Kaname waltzed towards the peculiar man, praying that there would be no complications or complaints. He took a deep breath and flashed his usual fake smile. “Hi, my name is Kaname Maeno, and I’ll be your waiter for today. What will you be ordering?”

The customer smiled mischievously and tapped his fingers against the table, which Kaname saw as an obvious bad sign. Nevertheless, the mystery man didn’t make an impression that he’d cause too much trouble…until he started ordering.

“I’ll have a chocolate cake, a strawberry sundae, some caramel custard, a lemon meringue pie, 6 sugar cookies…” Jesus Christ…was this man ordering for a party? Or would he eat this all by himself? It seemed like this man was ordering faster than Kaname’s hand could write down, and just as it seemed like he finished, there was much, much more to write down.

Miraculously, the constant orders suddenly ended, giving Kaname (and his poor hands) a breath of relief. “W-will that be all, sir?” he asked, trying not to go insane from what he just witnessed.

“I’ll also have some ice cream, because today is my birthday,” the strange customer requested. Kaname sighed heavily, hoping the chefs won’t pass out from the intense amount of items they’d have to make in such a limited amount of time. Even the other clients looked at this man in shock, but he didn’t seem to care a bit.

“Alright, your total will be…uh…¥760,860…do you want a receipt?” Kaname asked, struggling to keep his polite tone at this point. In response, the client shook his head and laughed, acting like he could afford all this? Of course, to the struggling waiter, this was another gluttonous rich kid, just trying to test his limits. If he didn’t get a good tip, he’d be pissed.

After about two hours, all of the items the bizarre man ordered were ready. Kaname was prepared to hear a long rant about how the chefs took too long, or how something was undercooked, or some other outrageous complaint as he served the customer his food, but all he received was a “thank you”.

…huh? This was odd…it seemed like every other person he had to serve was rude and unpleasant, but this was the first time he heard a “thank you” from someone he had the “pleasure” of serving. Kaname tried not to hide his shock, but did seem a little embarrassed. He figured he’d at least show his gratitude, it was the least he could do in this situation, anyway.

“It’s my pleasure to serve you tonight. Have a happy birthday, sir.” As Kaname walked off, it was getting closer to closing time, and the amount of people looking for a sweet treat slowly decreased. He looked towards the window, seeing all the stars swirl across the sky…perhaps, it was a sign that the night was going to not be filled with pain. Maybe, for once, his mother wouldn’t have to yell at him for not going to work, or he wouldn’t have to be so angry. At least for tonight, things felt normal…

Fumiya walked to the Charisma Sharehouse with a smile (and some crumbs) on his face, fully knowing that it was not his birthday and had tricked the waiter into giving him a slight discount. He didn’t think much of it, it was basically routine for him. Just as he was about to make a right turn on the next street, he overheard an intense argument coming from a nearby apartment.

“You always come home from work so angry, why not put a smile on your face?”

“Smile? What is there to fuckin’ smile about? I spend at least seven hours every goddamn day puttin’ on this fake smile only for people to harass and berate me!”

It didn’t seem super important to Fumiya, who cared about the drama of someone they didn’t know? However…one of the voices seemed familiar, which pulled him in to listen closer.

“You have to understand that work isn’t always pleasant, sweetie. And besides, you only started recently. Who’s to say that you won’t end up liking it in the end?”

“I’m to say! And I hate this shitty job and everyone I’ve met here!! And you wouldn’t even care, because you just want me to make money, don’t you? So I can be a good member of society like everyone else?”

Eventually, Fumiya decided to pull himself away, but not before he heard a scathing “I hate you” from (what he assumed to be) the son directed towards his mother. But the Charisma of Good and Evil just decided to shake it off, it wasn’t that important…but that simple phrase stuck in his mind, “I hate you.” It kept circling in his mind, with the bearer of those words reminding him of the nice waiter he met earlier that day.

“I hate you.” “I hate you.” “I hate-”

PPPPPPPPPPPPPP! The sharp sound of Rikai’s whistle interrupted Fumiya’s muddled thoughts. “Itou Fumiya, if there is one thing you should not do, it is enter the house with crumbs on your face! Go grab a napkin and clean it up!”

Of course, Fumiya’s first instinct was to question what he did wrong. “Hmm? Why?”

“Because it is not sanitary to leave pieces of food on your face! What if one of the crumbs falls off and it attracts a bug?! Then our house will become infested, and they can easily reproduce at any moment! So, I am kindly requesting you to clean it up!” Rikai complained, readily pulling out his whistle to blow again.

Not wanting to have his thoughts interrupted again, Fumiya grabbed a napkin and cleaned the crumbs off his face, but Rikai noticed that the former had a strange expression while doing it. “Is everything alright, Fumiya-san?”

“Everything is fine,” replied Fumiya, not in the mood to discuss what he heard while walking home.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Rikai felt like the youngest Charismatic was lying, which wasn’t a surprise, because Fumiya lied like he was getting paid a million dollars every time he did so. But this specific lie felt particularly strange, because he wasn’t the type to seem bothered by anything. And yet, Fumiya was clearly bothered…

“No, something is wrong. Fumiya-san, you must tell me what it is,” Rikai requested, hoping that at least some clues will be given.

“Nothing is wrong at all,” Fumiya answered, keeping his nonchalant facade intact.

“Something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“No, something is wrong.”

“Nope, nothing is wrong.”

The two went back and forth with each other for a few minutes, before a small voice interrupted. “E-excuse me…” It was Ohse, nearly curling up into a ball out of embarrassment.

“Ah, Ohse-kun! You haven’t come out of your room all day!” Rikai was pleased with the fact that Ohse finally decided to check in on the others for the day. “What brings you here at this hour?”

Ohse seemed nervous, repeatedly stammering over his words for a few minutes before Rikai and Fumiya assured him that he could say whatever he wanted. “I-is it okay if my friend stays over for a bit?”

Fumiya seemed oddly pleased by this question, with another (at least temporarily) resident of the house to break up the flow of the daily routine. Rikai, however, grimaced immediately after Ohse made his request.

“After the last time we had someone stay over, I’m not too keen on letting anyone stay for an extended period of time.” Rikai paused after seeing Ohse’s disappointment. “Can you inform us on who this person is?”

This question made Ohse even more anxious, not sure if Rikai would approve of his answer. “Well, it’s someone I met online, but-”

Rikai immediately huffed in disgust, not letting Ohse finish his statement. “Someone you met online?! Don’t you know how dangerous the internet can be?!?! You can be scammed, or doxxed, or kidnapped! Ohse-kun, I surely do not approve of this behavior!”

“Wait!” Ohse interrupted, before the Charisma of Order could go on another long rant. “I may not know his full name, or have seen his face…I’ve only heard his voice, but we have spent multiple hours in games together, and we have been in voice calls and…and…he made me want to live just a little bit more…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “He got into an argument with his mom and said he just needs a few days in order to fix things, just please let him stay…!”

Argument with his mother? Fumiya thought. No, surely this couldn’t be the person he overheard saying “I hate you” to his mom, right? …right? He looked over at Rikai, who shook his head in anguish.

“Alright…but we need to make sure that our house is completely spotless for our new arrival,” Rikai demanded. “When is he coming?”

“Um…tomorrow…”

“TOMORROW?!?!?!” Rikai entered a state of panic, knocking on every door in the house in order to initiate a group cleanup session. Most of the Charismatics were not thrilled to suddenly be called into cleanup, but Iori was absolutely ecstatic!

The night was long and filled with yelling and arguments, but the members of the sharehouse managed to clean up just in time for their guest.

The next morning, the doorbell rang, with everyone at once rushing over to greet the new (temporary) resident. However, one of them wasn’t expecting who this guest would be…

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you all. My name is Kaname Maeno.”

Charisma Charge: Success

[muimui-enie]

Happy Valentines! Why are these things so rare-

[firstfullmoon]

Do you have favorite quotes related about the importance of small details?

“The precious intimacy of little things.”

— Daphné du Maurier, I Will Never Be Young Again

“On my windowsill when I got home, there was a tumbler with pink jelly in it, and embedded in the jelly, sliced strawberries and bananas… [my neighbour] cooks at odd hours. She must have made the strawberry jelly this morning. When I buy baklava, which is not often because I eat too many, I leave a few for her on her windowsill, with a headscarf over them so the wasps don’t come. For these little gifts we don’t thank each other with words. They are commas of care.”

— John Berger, From A to X: A Story in Letters

“I suppose I could spend time theorizing how it is that people are not bad to each other, but that’s really not the point. The point is that in almost every instance of our lives, our social lives, we are, if we pay attention, in the midst of an almost constant, if subtle, caretaking. Holding open doors. Offering elbows at crosswalks. Letting someone else go first. Helping with the heavy bags. Reaching what’s too high, or what’s been dropped. Pulling someone back to their feet. Stopping at the car wreck, at the struck dog. The alternating merge, also known as the zipper. This caretaking is our default mode and it’s always a lie that convinces us to act or believe otherwise. Always.”

“One of the woman was gently arranging an older woman’s collar beneath her sweater, freeing it from the cardigan’s neck, using both of her hands to jostle it free but also seeming to spend a little more time than necessary, creasing the fold of the collar, the other hand kind of resting on her shoulder, the two of them chatting the whole time, sitting there holding each other, nodding, my head twisting toward them like a sunflower as I finished the stairs and walked by, so in love was I with this common flourish of love, this everyday human light.”

“but her need to share the photo with me [...] smiling and looking at it, smiling and looking at me looking at it, me smiling and looking at her looking at it, which is simply called sharing what we love, what we find beautiful, which is an ethics.”

— Ross Gay, The Book of Delights

“He’s got a fever. He’s all alone. So I’m gonna buy him something to eat.” “The congee downstairs is quite good.” “He doesn’t want congee.” “What does he want?” “Can’t taste anything so he wants sesame syrup.” [...] “What are you cooking?” “I had a sudden craving for sesame syrup.”

“Why did you call me at the office today?” “I had nothing to do. I wanted to hear your voice.”

— In the Mood for Love, dir. Wong Kar-Wai

— Danusha Laméris, “Small Kindnesses”

“It all matters. That someone turns out the lamp, picks up the windblown wrapper, says hello to the invalid, pays at the unattended lot, listens to the repeated tale, folds the abandoned laundry, plays the game fairly, tells the story honestly, acknowledges help, gives credit, says good night, resists temptation, wipes the counter, waits at the yellow, makes the bed, tips the maid, remembers the illness, congratulates the victor, accepts the consequences, takes a stand, steps up, offers a hand, goes first, goes last, chooses the small portion, teaches the child, tends to the dying, comforts the grieving, removes the splinter, wipes the tear, directs the lost, touches the lonely, is the whole thing. What is most beautiful is least acknowledged. What is worth dying for is barely noticed.”

— Laura McBride, We Are Called to Rise

“I’ve never told you this,” she said. “But there’s something about taking the cart back instead of leaving it in the parking lot. I don’t know when this came to me; it was a few years ago. There’s a difference between leaving it where you empty it and taking it back to the front of the store. It’s significant.” “Because somebody has to take them in.” “Yes. And if you know that, and you do it for that one guy, you do something else. You join the world…You move out of your isolation and become universal.”

— Andre Dubus, “Out of the Snow”

“It’s true that, in Vietnamese, we rarely say I love you, and when we do, it is almost always in English. Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearest through service: plucking white hairs, pressing yourself on your son to absorb a plane’s turbulence and, therefore, his fear. Or now—as Lan called to me, “Little Dog, get over here and help me help your mother.” And we knelt on each side of you, rolling out the hardened cords in your upper arms, then down to your wrists, your fingers. For a moment almost too brief to matter, this made sense—that three people on the floor, connected to each other by touch, made something like the word family.”

— Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel

— Ada Limón, from “The Great Blue Heron of Dunbar Road”

“I’m doing a balancing act with a stack of fresh fruit in my basket. I love you. I want us both to eat well.”

— Christopher Citro, from “Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled WIth Shrieks”

“One of the primary ways we connect with each other is by eating together. Some of the connection happens simply by being in the same place at the same time and sharing the same food, but we also connect through specific actions, such as serving food to one another or making toasts: ‘May I offer you some potatoes?’ ‘Here’s to your health and happiness.’ Much of our fundamental well-being comes from the basic reassurance that there is a place for us at the table. We belong here. Here we are served and we serve others. Here we give and receive sustenance.”

— Edward Espe Brown, Tomato Blessings and Radish Teaching

“Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

“Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful. May I stay forever in the stream. May I look down upon the windflower and the bull thistle and the coreopsis with the greatest respect.”

“it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world.”

— Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays / from “Invitation”

— Wendy Cope, “The Orange”

“After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: if anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately. Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this. I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly. Shu dow-a, shu-biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee? The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—she stopped crying. She thought our flight had been canceled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late. Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him. We called her son and I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother until we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out, of course, they had ten shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies. And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls from our flight, one African American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade, and they were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.”

— Naomi Shihab Nye, “Gate A4″

“Then there are the things, if you are particularly lucky, that this person has done for you while you’re away: how in the pantry, in the freezer, in the refrigerator will be all the food you like to eat, the scotch you like to drink. There will be the sweater you thought you lost the previous year at the theater, clean and folded and back on its shelf. There will be the shirt with its dangling buttons, but the buttons will be sewn back in place. There will be your mail stacked on one side of his desk; there will be a contract for an advertising campaign you’re going to do in Germany for an Austrian beer, with his notes in the margin to discuss with your lawyer. And there will be no mention of it, and you will know that it was done with genuine pleasure, and you will know that part of the reason—a small part, but a part—you love being in this apartment and in this relationship is because this other person is always making a home for you, and that when you tell him this, he won’t be offended but pleased, and you’ll be glad, because you meant it with gratitude.”

— Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

[namelesswolffreak]

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

--------------

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

[tenwoology]

part twenty-six

part 25 • part 27

back to navi.

taglist: @orange-nimon-cross @tell-tale-taeil @stopitvpls @exfolitae @bts7aus @jaemingold @doyoungsarabbit @maricopia

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note: hey, friends! this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but my docs had a little bit of a problem. i legit got scared because the whole app won’t open and i thought my drafts got eaten. anw, all things good now! still i had to redo everything. i had fun making it tho! pls click on the music for more fun experience. also we got in @/jjyusmile’s monthly recs! if someone wants to cry with me pls hmu yaaay (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

length: 1k :: press play: give it back - cö shu nie

narration is under the cut.

it was as if it had the hallmarks of a hollywood scene. the two of you basking in the late afternoon’s golden hues, in a cafe with the view that overlook the ocean stretched out in the horizon. the sunlight glistened over the waters making it appear like a sea of diamonds. it was almost picture perfect. 

because the best view you have here is your best friend, jungwoo. he sat across the table, in a position where the sun perfectly illuminates his face as if it had found a home on his skin. his cheeks dusted with light pinks. 

memories of sunsets, cherry trees, and the images of your younger days played in your mind like a streak of old negatives. you were lost for a moment. only the crackling leaves beneath your feet became the piped music as the image of you and jungwoo running in an autumn day flashes. he was a lot skinnier back then, freshness of budding youth on both of your teen faces were evident.  

“i can’t believe we’re going home.” he said and plopped himself on the table. “can we just stay here?” even though you can’t see it, you know he’s pouting.

“should we?”

he looked at you wide-eye. “wha—”

“i’m kidding. we can’t, you silly.” you said while a playful grin tugging at your lips.

jungwoo let out a whine and exhaled in exasperation as he took your hand. “okay. but promise me, we’re gonna go back here. just us.” he murmured softly.

you met his hopeful gaze with a welcoming smile. “we will. promise.” your thumb brushing over his knuckles in a delicate manner. 

although, physic-wise, he’s gotten taller and beef up a little. a lot more fashionable now, probably because of the influence of his friends (which became your good friends too). but jungwoo, as the light and buoyant kid that he was, still surprises you that he had kept the same nature even after all these years. he’s a lot mature but he remain unchanged; still the outgoing kid that everyone seemed to love and adore. 

you look at your hand that he was holding. you could feel the blossoming warmth in your chest that you anticipated not to crept up your cheeks. jungwoo’s affable demeanor towards you is something you’re already used to. however, it appears like fate has a way of fooling your entire being. now, all of his sweet gestures that he normally does, would be enough to make your heart race a thousand miles. 

honestly, you wouldn’t mind doing this all day. no other person has ever give you the sense of comfort the way this man in front of you did. he could just sit there, do nothing, and he would still be able to send an abundance of happiness down to your feet up to your heart. jungwoo is just that person. 

and maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give him your heart. 

you bit your lip, your gaze dropping to his face. and suddenly, all you could think about is that: he’s beautiful. the kind of beaut that invigorates you, incites you. a splendor manifested into a human being. he was ethereal. 

“woo, can i tell you something?”  

“hm? you can tell me anything, bub.” 

“i…you know, i haven’t been a good talker. always setting my feelings aside, always ignoring it in hopes it would be gone overnight,” you sighed.

“it was a bad habit, i know. but i never grew up with a lot of friends, woo. being a foreigner made it hard, communication was hard, and i can’t even talk about things that bothers me with jun. because i don’t want to give him the impression of his sister being weak, that’s not what he deserves.” you let out a shaky breath and met his eyes. you can’t read what’s on his mind, though his eyes weren’t anything malicious but it had been marked with the utmost cordiality. 

“to be honest, i don’t quite remember how the hell did we manage to get close–like how? seriously?” you chuckled. he did too. “just like that, you became part of my daily life. and i never regretted any single second of it. woo, i love every bit of it. because you never tried to be anything, you never tried to be something you are not. you never pushed me to say things and you…you were so patient to me, woo. even today, after all these years. you still managed to be the same.” there’s a desperation formed in your words, however, amusement topped it all. 

“you bring so much magic and interest to my life, it’s insane, really! so, how do you expect me not to fall in love with you when you made me feel so good about myself to the point it convinced me that maybe, i wasn’t really that bad?” 

your heart pounded inside your chest like an animal demanding to be released. and the butterflies in your stomach started going on rampage—or maybe they were lions, or elephants, or dinosaurs—nonetheless, it felt good. extremely. 

his next reaction struck you dumb, though. “huh?”

“wow, and here i am, expressing my love for you and all i get is–”

“no! i…i’m just surprised, holy crap.” jungwoo’s ears were reddened, and his cheeks bloomed in the colour of vibrant pinks that looked so good in his fair skin. 

“woo, i love you.” 

“shit, say it again.”

“i love you.” 

the words rolled off your tongue with fluency and if you could only taste it, they would probably tasted like chocolate and strawberries. he’s gaze never left you and truthfully, it’s starting to make you feel embarrassed too. 

the confession was nowhere near perfect. it wasn’t even the most romantic. in fact, it was a love confession in the spur of the moment. but those mere words were enough to fill the void inside of jungwoo and all he could think about is his lips on top of yours. 

“can i kiss you?” 

you nod. and he slowly inclined his face closer to yours and just like that–his warm lips embraced yours. the kiss is a chaste one, neither the two of you were rushing. with carefulness and love, you take everything his lips could offer: the world; the heavens; the universe; everything.

[shadow-tea]

Vs Roland

It all went downhill whenever Roland saw Evan and the ghostly apparition of his father. His chest felt like it was being stepped on by an elephant and his vision swam and the room spun. He felt...jealous, almost. No, that wasn’t right. Lost. Yes, he felt lost. He felt...out of place. No one noticed him becoming confused and somewhat afraid.

They made it back to Evermore. Mausinger signed the treaty and they headed home. Though, Mausinger stood and just watched Roland. He knew something was up.

The Chief Consul locked himself into a room, leaving the brief celebration to finally finishing the treaty. No one noticed him crying black tears. His breathing was panicked.

Roland sat on his bed, rocking himself back and forth. He had wrapped himself with his blanket. His brown-silver eyes had turned pitch black. He coughed, sputtering black liquid from his mouth. He clinched his eyes shut and sniffled. Where was he again? He didn’t know where he was. “My love.” A sweet sounded voice echoed. He opened his eyes and looked around. “My yudakana Hana?” He asked. She could help him calm down. “Follow my voice…” she kept on whispering to him. He threw off his blanket and trudged to the window. His smile grew big and he threw open the window. He climbed through it, stepping back onto grass. He opened his wings and flew off, away from Evermore castle.

~~

Later that night.

Evan approached Roland’s room along with Batu. He held the food tray and Evan held the drink. Evan knocked on the door. “Roland!” He exclaimed. “We brought food! You missed some good stuff at the party!” Leander became extremely drunk and started to argue with anyone in the room. Batu had a drinking contest with Bracken. Tani and Evan kind of just sat and watched.

No one answered the door. Batu knocked next, but harder. “Oi!” He exclaimed. “Roland, ye mangy cur! Open up!” Evan puffed his cheeks. “He’s probably asleep.” He said. Though, Batu wasn’t listening anymore. He had grabbed the handle and twisted it. Both of them expected the door to be locked, but, Batu pushed it open. “Roland?” He grunted out. The window was wide open. Evan placed the drink down on the desk. He went to the window. “Did he go flying?” Evan questioned a loud. While Evan looked out of the window, Batu went and inspected the bed. He hummed and his face darkened. “Lookie here boy.” He beckoned. Evan turned his head and walked over to Roland’s bed. His ears flicked back. Batu saw the black splotches one would cough up if they were possessed by the darkness. “He’s...he’s been..” Evan’s face became determined and looked up at Batu. “Send your scouts out. Find Roland.” He commanded. “We will continue our search throughout the day.” Evan and Tani were kids, after all. They needed correct sleep. Batu nodded. He went and picked the tray and drink both. They would keep it cool. They just needed to focus on finding Roland now.

~~

Early Morning

The dragon consul had found a cave to hide in. Very fitting for his species. It was spacious. He stood st the center, rocking himself back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Roland smiled brightly, black liquid dripping down his face. He stepped up to his wife and hugged her tightly. “Oh I’ve missed you so much.” He whimpered. “What have you been doing without me?” His ears perked to listen. He nodded. “I’m sorry for leaving the seat all to you.” He whispered and he grasped nothing. “Hopefully no one tried to...claim you over me.” He snarled. He bared his sharp teeth to nothing. But, he smiled warmly and tilted his head as if it was being cupped by a hand. He hummed softly. He let out a gasp and opened his arms, as if someone ran into his legs, hugging tightly. “I’m sorry I left you.” He whispered. “You must’ve been so worried about me. Did your mother protect you?” He grinned brightly. He sat down. “Let’s have a picnic today.” He laughed heartily.

~~

Evermore Castle

Evan scowled. “Nothing?” He asked. Khunbish shook his head and bowed. “We will continue to look for ‘im milord. Just ‘ive us time.” He spoke. The small cat king nodded. “You are dismissed, Khunbish.” He said. The other part of his court were out today. Either taking care of something or for leisure. Evan let them do what they wanted. The Sky pirate left the premise and that prompted Evan to get up. He should do some favors. Maybe they’ll be something about Roland..

He strolled out of the castle. He stepped down the stairs and turned straight into the market area. He smiled and greeted a few people as he strolled through. He would know when someone needed a favor. It was just something he could tell. Looking to his right, he saw a person needing help. He went up to ask. Upon getting the quest, he said goodbye to the civilian and went on his way.

~~

It became lunch time. Evan was going to stop by some food before heading back to the castle. He glanced at the street vendors he passed. Nothing good he would like so far. Once he got past that vendor, he stopped by one that only served drinks. He got a strawberry milk bottle. Strawberry flavored was his favorite. He thanked the vendor and left that one. His cat ears swiveled around, listening into a few conversation. Maybe someone here was a trader. Maybe, they saw Roland flying overhead somewhere to hide.

It took him a little bit to actually find a vendor he wanted. Even now, Evan was a picky eater. All of the other foods he would’ve wanted any other day, but today, he didn’t want to go to his usual places. He stepped into the little place and looked st the menu overhead. The shop members didn’t notice him yet, since there were a few others already there and probably have ordered food. He found his order and went up to the cashier. His ears pointed up and swiveled around a few times, listening in a few conversations.

“....flying in the air hurriedly somewhere. Came from the direction of Evermore.”

“Really? What’d the flying person look like?”

“Um, I dunno. It was going very fast.”

A flying person? Evan looked over and walked over to them. “Excuse me.” He asked. The two talking looked over. One was from Hydropolis, another from DingDong Dell. “Oh, good evening, King Evan.” One said. “Good Evening to the two of you!” He chimed and his face became stern. “Tell me where that flying person is.” He said. “It is of grave importance.” They looked at each other before explaining to their small king. One of the traders, who was from Goldpaw, who moved their from Hydropolis, was walking to Evermore for trading opportunities, when they saw someone flying away from the castle. She assumed it headed into the Goldpaw area.

Evan would check the caves.

~~

The Next Day

The Young King rallied his allies and they teleported to Goldpaw. They searched the caves surrounding the area. It took a couple hours to actually find the cave.

Hesitantly, Evan and crew entered the cave. No one spoke as they entered further into the cave. IT was like any other cave they’ve seen. Crystals showing on the wall, stalagtites and stalagmites in various places, and rising natural platforms. They approached the center as the path branched out.

“Roland!”

The dragon consul sat in the middle, rocking himself back and forth, muttering. Evan wanted to run to him, to comfort him, but his friends stopped him from running towards him. “Look at ‘im.” Batu remarked, bright green eyes sparking. “He’s fallen so far into the control. Blast it all.” Leander breathed out. He did not see a possible outcome of this battle. He could be the worst battle yet. They stepped forward, alerting Roland by their prescence as he rose slowly. He wobbled beofre turning around to face them. Face dripping with the black liquid, he coughed. It dripped down his head as well. Further examination, his horns were stained black. “You..You can’t take my family..away.” He sputtered. His friends did not raise their weapons just yet. “They’re..They won’t..die by your hands.”

Just what was he seeing now?

Roland let loose a roar and bent back, sucking in air. “EVERYONE MOVE!” Batu exclaimed. Tani and Batu rose their hands up as they commanded the air. A torrent of air formed in front of the family and they pushed it into the flames off the fire breathing Roland. Bracken sped past everyone else to try to get behind him, stopping her feet from moving, she rose up her axe and tried to strike for the head. Roland’s ears twitched as he heard the whistle of metal, he turned and caught the blade in his hand and threw it. “I’ll kill all of YOU!” He screamed. He drew his sword and sped towards Leander. The Seer flinched and dove out of the way, before his eyes lit up. Roland was caught in his psychic grasp and was launched away. Leander stood up and closed his eyes as he called upon a powerful spell. His floating staff glowed bright.

Tani swung her spear over her head as she summoned large amounts of electricity. She pointed her staff towards Roland, letting the electricity course through her and hit the man head on. The area around them flashed brightly. As soon as the light diminished, Roland stood, unscathed. The clothes that was made for him was resistant to a lot of things, or maybe he was resistant to every element.

Evan watched as his friends battled. They seemed to no match for Roland. He bit his lip and he held his sword tightly. He closed his eyes as he summoned a magic ring as he summoned water. He focused as several orbs formed. Opening his eyes again, he opened his mouth.

“Roland! Please look at me!”

Roland visibly flinched and looked over. His face softened. “Come here, my son.” He whispered. He reached out to Evan. His eyes widened. Again, Roland thought he was his son. Evan clinched his eyes shut as he launched the balls of water at him. Roland let himself get hit, causing himself to growl deeply. Steam rolled off of him. “...Spy!” He exclaimed and opened his wings, flying straight at Evan. The King rolled out of the way, flinging water left and right. Roland slashed his sword wildly, sparks erupting from the ground. Evan clinched his eyes shut as he fell back. With a roar, he swung his sword from his hand, up toward his chest.

A gasp of pain. He felt something drip onto his face.

Evan cracked open his eyes and about screamed. Roland stood over him, stomach stabbed with Mornstar. The Dragon Consul’s eyes cleared enough to see the silver brown, but they were still hazy. “R-Roland?” He asked. Evan hoped to everything good that he didn’t strike his bestfriend’s core. He let go of his sword and watched in horror as his friend stumbled back. He coughed up blood. Everyone stopped. Roland shakily looked down at the sword. “I failed them.” He whispered. “I failed them.” He began to repeat those words. He held his face and let loose a very feral roar. Bracken’s face paled as she spotted Roland’s pupils shrunk and became slits. She hurried to Evan and scooped him up to run to the other side of the cave.

With quick succession, Roland pulled out Mornstar and threw it to the side with such force, it caused a little crater in the side of the wall, but it did not break it. He hunched over, glowing brightly.

He was transforming.

Everyone covered their eyes. There was so much energy being pushed out that it caused dust to push towards them. Evan screamed loudly.

Everything stopped. A roar and a flap of wings echoed through out the cave. And then…the sudden shaking of the cave alerted them to look up.

Roland had hit himself against the cave ceiling. He roared loudly, becoming even more enraged, but he fell to the ground as soon as debri fell ontop of him.

No one said anything, but they ran toward the cave entrance. “M-Mornstar!” Evan exclaimed. “I can move the debri later, Evan.” Bracken said. “We have to move.” They ran out the center room of the cave. Dust billowed towards them after the debir stopped. Bracken placed Evan on the ground. “Start smashing the rocks.” He commanded. “Leander, trying pushing the rocks out of the way.” They needed to get to Roland. Batu formed a electrical hammer, while Tani stood back.

~~

Evan ran in first, eyes panicked and worried for Roland. He saw him in the center of the room again, legs and an arm were crushed. He would regenerate it later, but they would have to put him in a cast later. “I..I can’t.” He wheezed, tears streaming down his bloody face. “I..I failed all of them.” He seemed to aware. He rose his free hand to his neck, claws glinting in the dim light. Evan exclaimed for him to stop. Roland did stop. “Leave...Leave me be.” He cried. “Leave me be.” The others came into the cave, began to help him out. One of them handed Mornstart back to Evan, but he set it down to help Roland out of the debri.

~~

It took a little bit for them to leave the cave. Roland begged picked up Mornstar and gave it to Evan, which he put down on the ground to help bring Roland out. The Consul didn’t say anything, but hang his head low. He was still crying. “Evan, you can teleport still?” Leander asked. He was extra tired from using his psychic abilities. The small king nodded quietly. He looked toward Roland. He couldn’t walk at all. Evan rose the sword up and focused on home. “Why..Why are you bring...bringing me..back?” He asked. “Because.” Evan said and breathed in sharply as the air around them changed quickly with a sharp whistle.

“We’re family.”

~~

A few days pass with a decent recovery for Roland. He looked solemn and sad. He still had leg casts. He didn’t eat too much. He became a little thinner, which worried Evan and the others.

Evan entered the infirmary room with a cup of coffee and a book. “Good evening, Roland.” He greeted. Roland looked at him from staring out the window. He did not smile. It was saddening. “Evening.” He grunted. He wished he could move. To go back to work. “I brought you some coffee.” Evan said. “And another book.” Roland gave a sad smile. “Thank you, Evan.” He said. They became quiet as Evan put the things on the bedside table. Evan backed up and looked at Roland. They stared at each other for a little bit before Evan turned away. “Just tell me if you need anything.” He said quietly. Roland said nothing as he watched Evan leave the room.

He sighed deeply and shakily brought out his phone. He opened it to photos. He stared at a photo for a very, very long time.

[ourneverendingpossibilities]

May I request Kagami, Izuki, and Midorima with a tall female s/o (like 6ft) and him getting jealous over the amount of time she spends with Kuroko please? Cuddles and fluff please 🙂

Hi sweetie! Thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long and I really hope you like it! ; A ; (Midorima under the cut!)

Izuki: It wasn’t fair!

Why’d you always hang around Kuroko? Was he not funny enough for you? Did Kuroko know things he didn’t? Or is Kuroko smarter than him?

No.. That can’t be right..!

You adore funny, handsome men! Izuki happened to be both of those! So why did you always spend time with him?

He wished he had Kuroko radar.. So that way he’d know exactly where he was, and know how to avoid him whenever the two of you hung out.. He pouted, watching silently as you giggled at something the phantom player said, and he snorted, feeling his feet drag him away.

“Izuki-kun!”

He turned his head, trying not to show his frown, watching as you ran to him, immediately grabbing his hand and smiled.

“Shall we go to your house now?”

He swallowed, only able to manage a nod as the two of you went back to his place. He was so lost in thought, he didn’t realize you were watching with a bit of a worried expression.. 

Did you forget something? Was today supposed to be special? Honestly, you were at a loss. He seemed a bit down when you were with Kuroko... Could it be..?

You waited until you were in his room, before pulling him into a hug, resting his head against your chest. You could feel him stammer and blush, but you only held him closer, rubbing the back of his head.

“Shu-chan... There’s nothing for you to worry about.. Kuroko-kun is just a friend.” You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re my special person, and I want you to know I’ll never leave you alone..”

When he looked up at you, he saw the brightest smile ever, and he wondered how you always seemed to catch on to his greatest insecurities.. He couldn’t say anything, instead, chose to nod, curling closer to you and smiling at the affection.

You were warm... Like a heater!

Kagami: “Why the hell are you pouting, Taiga?”

He huffed, crossing his arms and avoided your stare. He knew it was the dumbest thing to be jealous about. So you liked hanging out with Kuroko.. It’s not like he showed any interest towards you anyway.. But that’s not the point! Whenever he wanted to have just some alone time, Kuroko would appear and next thing he knew, he felt like a damn third wheel...

IN HIS OWN RELATIONSHIP.

Though.. half of it was his fault.. 

Kagami was never good at expressing his emotions.. And although you were pretty good at noticing these things, it seemed even you couldn’t read Kuroko that well. So you always took his appearance in a friendly matter..

But sometimes he felt it was too friendly.

Whatever the hell that meant..

He felt a dip in the couch, and when he turned his head, he was immediately graced with a chocolate dipped strawberry in his mouth. His cheeks burned, though he managed to take a bite, chewing softly.

It’s.... delicious!

“I know you don’t like when I hang with Kuroko-kun too much.. and I deeply apologize if I made you feel insecure.. But I was asking if he knew where I could get the best strawberries..”

When he didn’t say anything, you continued on, silently praying he was paying attention.

“You’re the one always making meals and desserts.. So.. I thought I should try to make some myself.. You know..? To show my appreciation for you.. Honestly.. I didn’t even know you were jealous until Kuroko-kun pointed it out..” you could feel heat rise to your cheeks, coughing lightly, “S..So I.. I’m really sorry Tai-”

You were cut off when a strawberry was pushed in your mouth, eyes wide at your boyfriend. His face was just as red, frown on his lips but it was softer than before, and he waited for you to finish your dessert, before pulling you into a hug, tentatively kissing your head.

“D...Don’t apologize ____..” he mutters, resting on the couch, “I should be the one apologizing..” 

‘For being such a brat.’ 

You blinked, letting him hold you and sighing, curling around him further.. Hm.. Being like this is the best. And honestly, you were really grateful for having such a loving and nervous boyfriend.

Midorima: This is stupid. 

There’s literally no reason for him to be jealous of Kuroko.. Okay, so maybe you saw him more because you both attended Seirin.. But it’s not like Shutoku was far from there. He could easily go and spend time with you during lunch..

Except.. You always seemed to be around the blue-haired male during that time.. 

You also always seemed to be happy and laughing.. While with him, it was mostly awkward laughs and silence..

He sighed, pushing his glasses up as, once again, the two of you sat in silence at his place. His parents were gone out for dinner, leaving him alone with you.. And while he thought of something, anything, to say, he was coming up empty.

“How come you don’t visit me at Seirin?”

Your voice seemed to cut through his mind, making him look at you with wide eyes. There was a light frown on your lips, despite your eyes on the screen in front of you.

“I’ve gone to see you at Shutoku.. But you’re always too busy... It’s like you don’t want to see me.” you turned to look at him, not realizing his heart was breaking at your words, “Did I do something to make you angry?”

Crap.

He was the worst boyfriend ever. He didn’t realize you’d come to see him so many times.. Probably because no one was ever allowed to watch Shutoku’s training.. But then.. Why didn’t anyone say you’d stopped by?

He would really beat his team later on..

He pulled you into a hug, eliciting a gasp from your throat before he cleared his, trying to will the blush away.

“No... ____... You didn’t make me angry...” he starts, sighing, “I’m mad at myself... Because I thought you spent more time with Kuroko... And I didn’t realize you’d tried to see me at Shutoku.. So when I’d came by the one day during lunch...” he bit his lip, “I saw you so happy with him.. I thought maybe you didn’t care.. But I was the one so caught up in jealousy and basketball... I ignored your feelings..”

He felt wetness on his shirt, blinking when you pulled him closer, not letting him see your face. But instead of saying anything, he just swallowed the lump in his throat, letting you curl against his chest. He tentatively stroked your hair, feeling you shift and before he could react, you pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t that. Or the way you snuggled closer to him, sighing softly.

“Shintarou.. Me and Tetsuya are just friends.. Always have been.. And that’s not going to change..” you whisper, curling closer to him, “I’m sorry you thought differently.. But I want you to know you’re not a bad boyfriend.. I understand you’re busy.. I just worry about you.. So please.. please, don’t beat yourself up over this.”

When you spoke like that, he could only nod, tugging you even closer and lightly kissing your forehead. He knows it’ll take some time, and a few changes. But if you’re still willing to stay, then he’ll do whatever he can to make sure this doesn’t happen again.