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emry-stars-art · 10 months

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Just read the whole 'how Andreil pans out' ask and all I'm saying is that I love the idea of Andrew Courting Abram and Abram just absolutely misses that it's what is happening. Part of it is just a cultural difference, Evermore and Palmetto have different courting cultures perhaps?

Another part is that Andrew really does not act all THAT different. He's giving Abram gifts but like Andrew is always giving Abram stuff? It's not new? Yeah they had dinner together but that's just like what they......do?

Another another part is just Abram not even considering himself as someone worthy to be with Prince Andrew like that. He wasn't worthy before and after Evermore and everything I could imagine he feels even less like a person let alone a person who deserves Andrew's positive regard.

IDK I just love the idea of Abram at some point like 6 months into Andrew trying to court him seeing that behavior somewhere else, being told that's how nobility in Palmetto court others, and going to Andrew like "Have you, perchance, been trying to court me?"

Andrew setting his glass aside and looking up from where he's seated, "For 6 moons Abram, glad you've finally noticed." - @jtl-fics

jtl I. Wish. You could have seen my face as I read this, this is so hilarious and heartbreaking and lovely all in one and I’m in LOVE okay i love this so much. And we can totally make it work ahhhhh

Like yes! Yeah! Andrew’s already a gift giver, it’s just what he does as far as Abram’s concerned, and they spend so much time together that dinner isn’t strange those are perfect points. Like to the court it’s starting to become obvious - maybe in the kinds of gifts Andrew gives, or some other small things that are new, yes, but Abram has always taken these things in stride and usually his lack of judgement when Andrew tries new things or changes in little ways is a huge relief but not this time Abram PLEASE

Finally Andrew just bites the bullet and goes for a gesture that’s way more out of character and harder to mistake, which might look something like this (and thank you @leedee013 for tags about them giving each other flowers that I LOVED):

And Abram can’t really form his thoughts into words because like you said; he doesn’t think he should be allowed something like that, there’s no way he’s ever EVER going to assume that Andrew is trying to confess or clue him in to a courting like this, even if it’s in his head now

But then Lady Reynolds sees Abram later heading back to the castle/wherever he stays carrying this bouquet of carnations (fascination), narcissus (honesty/truth) and acacia (hidden love) (let’s not look too closely into these flower meanings lol, i picked the first ones I found and I’ll field all further questions with ‘artistic liberty’ 🫶) and they’re pretty close friends by now so she’s immediately like “oh my GODS Abram who gave that to you”

And Abram quietly says “the prince”

And Allison’s won like three separate bets between various other people of the court and she’s elated

But maybe she takes pity on him when she realizes exactly how clueless Abram is, so she does her best to explain everything and finally, Abram begins to allow the possibility that maybe Andrew is doing all this on purpose. But he would really rather like to be certain.

And of course I had to draw your little exchange but I did it from memory so apologies for the changes in dialogue but I love it:

ANYWAY from there, when it’s cleared up, it’s just them being dumb and sweet and grasping at straws for how to be in love and natural about it (because they’re both very private people and a good number of average/expected acts of courtship aren’t necessarily in their wheelhouse) 😭🥹 and not to add yet more hurt/comfort but Andrew is so so determined to figure out a way to assure and reassure Abram that he knows what he’s doing, yes Abram is worth it, yes he’s doing these things because he wants to. If he didn’t want to he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. And I’ll bring it back around by using my previously mentioned artistic liberty to say that yes Prince Andrew loves having his hands held/kissed (just by Abram naturally) and Abram figures this out and absolutely uses it against him. They love each other your honor

Okay anyway thank you for the ask, I’m SO lucky to have such brilliant people in my inbox 🥰

#STG I WAS SMILING SO BIG WHEN I READ IT THROUGH #yeah they probably would have very different traditions! I like that a lot!#so it’d be even funnier when Abram finally calms down and relaxes into it #and yeah they can do flowers that works fine #but he probably accidentally/as a last effort tries some traditions from his native kingdom #they’re trying so hard but it’s a little lost in translation #ships passing in the night #they’re hopeless and I love them #GOD KEVIN WOULD HAVE TO DO THE TRANSLATION OF THE DIFFERENT CUSTOMS #He wants out of it so bad but there’s literally no one else to ask 😂😭#idk if either of them would ever deign to involve or ask Kevin but now I’m laughing #anyway I need to stop or I’ll never shut up about this #thank you this is great #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #allison reynolds #royal au #asks #chibi

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snowfolly · 6 months

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So I got to the Daylight Inn in BG3 today and I had Astarion in my squad, and as we were hanging out and chatting up Isobel after rescuing her from Marcus, I started hearing a male character singing really softly. I switch characters around to see if I can find them and BOOM I find out ot's Astarion singing softly to himself while idle. I couldn't quite make the lyrics out but he sounded a bit distant and sad...made me want to hug him again.

OH NO… little guy, that’s so cute ;A; I absolutely love this and really, really hope this triggers for me in (one of) my current pts!

I have heard audio of him humming before (and it was so flat- which is super endearing to me lol), BUT this ask made me have some big hcs and I had to write and draw some boys about it lol

I imagine that Astarion really, truly loves to sing, that he gets catchy tavern songs stuck in his head for days and goes about his business singing to himself. However, the other spawn would continuously tell him to never to do so in their presence because he can't hold a tune, what kind of elf can’t sing? And what in the names of all the gods did he have to sing about anyway? Besides the song of agony that Cazador made him sing…

By the time he ends up a tadfool in our favorite merry band of misfits he’s learned well not to dare let his discordant voice slip in front of other people. He has to be charming, he has to be pleasant so that they keep him around. And his song is not a pleasant one.

He can’t help himself though, he still hums and sings quietly as he strolls through the woods, when he’s reading or sewing, in times when he thinks he’s entirely by himself. But Tav, godsdamnit, Tav takes notice.

Tav startles him one night, telling him that they recognize the tune that he’s humming and that it’s one of their favorites. Astarion’s pissed that they were listening in on him, but he’s more surprised that he isn’t shot down immediately, that he’s not met with expected snark for not being able to carry a tune in a bucket, but Tav doesn’t belittle him… which is odd.

In time Astarion still keeps his songs to himself around the rest of the party, but as he begins to trust Tav he finds himself becoming more and more relaxed with them. He realizes that he can be himself around them, well, whatever parts of himself still left to him at this point anyway.

But it was a novel concept, this acceptance, a concept he learned to greatly appreciate. And Tav seems pleased to see (and hear) him being comfortable with them, being happy. Tav cares for him.

Tav cares for him after no one had given a rats ass about him for two centuries. What a concept indeed.

So Astarion continues humming flatly and singing badly, Tav joins him often and they belt out old folk songs or bawdy tavern numbers together on their long journey, making up colorful (and hilariously crass) new verses as they go.

And he comes to realize that this, this time with Tav is what being close to a person is supposed to feel like.

That being put down and belittled for something that a person enjoys is not universal.

That constantly being on guard is not normal.

That another person can actually bring him joy, and that caring for someone is... possible.

Tav says that they enjoy singing with him, that they could go on singing with him forever, that they love his song.

And would it be so bad to sing of love instead of sorrow? Would it be so bad to share his song with them for as long as time would allow? He wasn’t quite sure yet, it was all so new.

But as he walks with Tav, arm in arm, belting out a bawdy old ballad to the heavens and all unfortunate ears within a mile, he had to admit that the thought of forever was enticing.

Thank you so much for the ask! And sorry it took 5ever bc it inspired me to make a little Drabble and doodle :>

#Astarion SINGING I love it ;A;#astarion headcanons #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #answered asks #bg3 spoilers

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amaranthsynthesis · 2 months

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Writing patterns, tagged by @plethomacademia AND @chronurgy, lol, tagging whoever hasn't done it and wanted to (which is no one because I am. late.) and I might fudge it with some WIPs because I don't have ten things finished yet woops

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

you see my ghost and you'll never forget it || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

The Steel Watchers move across the end of the hall, neatly separating Ballard and his companions before any of them can notice, let alone react.

2. Third Time Pays For All || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Ballard follows Gortash when he ducks out of the drawing room with a waved hand and self-effacing, breathless demur.

3. A Fine Night || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

The Tilted Magpie is warm and brightly lit, cheerful yellow-gold lamps hung everywhere to ward off the blanket of night.

4. An Ill Considered Bargain || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Ballard has been complacent, quiet and observant as Gortash winds the ropes up his leg.

5. One for a Death, Two for a Pair || E The Dark Urge/ Enver Gortash

Enver Flymm sees the bird fall from the sky.

Aaaand cheating, none of the below are finished haha--these might change but in all honesty it would only be if I added something in before the first line. I self-edit so severely as I write that sentences mostly don't get put down until I'm convinced they're right, and final adjustments before posting are spelling errors/splitting paragraphs.

6. A Fine Night ch 2 WIP || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

The fire radiates heat and light, casting formidable shadows that plunge the room into a heavy darkness.

7. the black hand of bane or what the fuck ever WIP || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

“When you die,” Ballard asks suddenly, voice quiet still, thoughtful enough that it does not shatter the peace of the fire-warmed and paper-plastered room, “Bane will take your soul, correct?”

8. a sacrament to be taken kneeling WIP || E The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

They are still in bed when mid morning turns to noon.

9. noises in the night WIP || E pre-relationship Astarion/The Dark Urge

The days are long and bloody--even as their little ragtag group of would-be heroes expands, so too does the danger lurking in the trees and rocks around them.

10. all the breathless dead WIP || M or E? The Dark Urge & Orin the Red

For all that the small imp had said Ballard would not be bothered by the suffocating red mist that blanketed him the moments of that slaughter, the urge niggled at the periphery of his consciousness for the next several years anyway.

I think the biggest pattern here is how you can see where I have white-knuckle pried myself away from over-complicated multi-clause opening statements (mostly, anyway)--I like my sentences long and chewy, as is. Pretty much immediately proven by the second line of most of these, which is hilarious to me. Other than that there seems to be a decent mix of action/description, though I do notice that where I open with action instead of description it's a good indicator that that piece is going to be shorter and punchier.

#ask game #technically #writings #for every person who has ever complimented how lyrical my writing is there is an older teacher or professor standing over my shoulder #holding a machete #saying: now cut it back #sometimes I take the advice to heart better than others!!

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 months

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Solas wakes up in the strange new world of his own making and it terrifies him. Frail and confused, he has to learn everything from scratch again. The more he learns, the more the world looks like a nightmare.

When he joins the Inquisition, he figures he's still not strong enough to withstand everything this world throws at him.

In the end, he made too many promises and he can't keep them all.

But who said the Din'anshiral would be easy?

_____________________________________________

Part 1 | Chapter 1- ? | Right after uthenera, Solas is found by a Dalish clan. This goes well until it doesn't.

(Basically my excuse for world building and hilarious misunderstandings.)

Chapter 7

For a while, nothing happened other than Rosala's happy crunching and pawing the floor with her hooves. Solas needed the moment of silence, to let all the information sink in. With a few chestnuts in his hand, he watched the halla's excited movements. Her swift legs. Suddenly, he felt the urge to get up and force his weak limbs to move as well. He was done with lying around. He was done with crawling back into that aravel and waiting for someone's help. He was sick of himself.

So he slipped off the wagon and let his feet hit the ground while his hands clasped the rim. For the blink of an eye, he stood on shaky legs. His body struggled against the pressure. As quickly as he could, he heaved one leg and the effort alone made him draw breath with a hiss. The other leg on the ground protested as colours began to dance in front of his eyes. Rosala watched him closely, fluttering one ear. With a stern grimace, he dropped the foot again and then noticed he stood rather unstable, with his legs spread, wobbling from one side to the other. Now he had to draw the other foot forward while standing on a dangerously shaky leg, but he was about to lose his grip of the wagon with his sweaty hands.

He didn't hear Rosala's squeaks, but he noticed the hands that quickly helped him out. Halven tried to put him back on the aravel, but Solas squirmed. “No, let me walk! Just a few steps! I need to...” “If you feel like it, lethal'lin”, Halven agreed calmly, even if a little amused. “Let's see how far you get.” The Healer doubted the elf would get far at all, but he didn't want to hold him back. He'd rather kindle the fire inside him and let him draw new strength from it.

With new support, Solas began the next step forward. He didn't dare to look his helper in the eyes while he tried. He needed to pay attention to the ground anyway. His cheeks felt hot and he told himself it was the struggle that pumped blood into his head. With the Healer's help, he accomplished two careful steps more, before he couldn't move his legs any longer. He just stood, shaking, clutching Halven, until he reluctantly admitted he had enough. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes in embarrassment. It didn't help that the Healer lifted him off the ground and carried him back to the aravel. Rosala happily took over and dragged him to bed, where he buried his face in his pillow, done with this cruel joke of a free life.

When he felt the animal curling up next to him, his head shot up and he growled at her: “Leave me alone!” His trust was gone. Too many open questions. He needed to think. Alone.

Rosala left immediately without a sound and Solas felt the lack of her warmth. With a deep sigh, he fell back on the pillow. His thoughts didn't give him comfort. He lay in emptiness, only recalling Halven's words over and over again. He came to terrible conclusions. First of all, if he was right, he had to deal with an enraged Evanuris thirsting for blood. Who riled up another kind to make the Elvhen People pay for their betrayal. In the second possible scenario, there was an ancient creator. An unknown enemy. One way or the other, the Evanuris still had a way of controlling their people from the beyond, because why would they still wear vallaslin and pray to them? Why would they not know the truth? What happened to his rebellion? He didn't like what this implied.

But something else brought him to the verge of tears. 100 years. They live no more than 100 years. Really all of them? Halven had made no exceptions. But did he know the truth? The terrible feeling came back. Alone in the beyond, looking for his friends. Nobody answered. Were they all...? It couldn't be. It was only 2000 years ago. Surely some of them must have... But where were they? Why didn't they answer? The prison! It was the straw he clutched at. It didn't allow him to reach them! Those “shemlen” must've punished the Elvhen People like this!

Elves. Now this word moved him. He had always overheard it. The translation had seemed simple, but it carried a horrible truth. He couldn't call them “the People” anymore. He had to clarify which. This world belonged to the shemlen now and the People were just elves. They had lost their name. Their identity. And perhaps rightfully so. Who stirred the Maker and why?

Solas wiped his wet face. His head hurt now and he still didn't know what to do. Out. He needed to get out. Get stronger. Perhaps find the answers in the beyond. He needed to sleep. But carefully. The Maker could watch. The thought made him chuckle bitterly.

Indeed, the beyond had a surprise for him. For the first time, he caught glimpses of the camp itself. Images of memories flickered in front of his eyes. A sense of it's calm and peaceful loneliness came to his mind. He saw shades of wanderers, a couple holding hands. Their words a mere unintelligible echo of the past. They stood by a tree, carved their names in the trunk. The tree still sang the words. Longing, missing, waiting. Their love was the sharp blade of a knife, sweet pain and numb scars. Solas eyed the tree, unable to read the names. But he liked their song. For a blissful moment, he just listened, let the memory carry him away. Then something gentle nudged his arm. Another thing chirped in his ear. He nearly jumped and lost the image, but smiled when he found his spirit friends surround him. They circled the tree, played with the leaves, made the branches swing. Solas realized that he had been nothing but curious.

He kept his smile and let the moment linger. It felt too good to leave it. And when he continued to wander through the camp, he did so more lightheartedly, allowed the forest to speak to him. He didn't force any answers out of it because it would only hurt. Gratefully, he let go of the Maker and the dreadful history for what felt like a merciful eternity.

Eventually, his body claimed him back. But even awake, he was thankful for the good dreams. The beyond had given him new strength and patience to focus on the only plan he had. So he crawled out of the aravel and soon put both feet on the ground again, clutching the wagon. Suddenly, something landed heavily on the wooden planks, made them crack so loud, Solas almost lost his grip. A halla stood over him. He guessed it was her, for the intense stare alone. “Rosala...I'm sorry....”, he began, but she interrupted him by bumping her forehead against his skull. Again, Solas almost fell backwards into the grass. He gasped and held himself just about, then leaned over to wipe his throbbing head. “Ouch.” Rosala folded her legs to lie down, visibly content with herself and the intense stare changed into friendly blinking.

She watched his efforts and it didn't take long until Temalas found him this time. As embarrassing as it was to be held by the Keeper's apprentice, he used the time to ask questions, wondering if Temalas had more details or a different perspective to offer. He learned that the Emerald Knights had wolves as companions, which was interesting enough. Also, he tried to study the staff, but that strained him more than walking. After a while, he fainted in the First's arms and woke up to being dragged back into the aravel. In sleep, he visited the camp again.

Since the Dalish didn't stop his efforts, he began to spend his time learning to walk and looking for signs in the beyond.

He remained careful around the elves, because a vengeful Evanuris could've ordered his slaves to look out for the Dead Wolf. Even the shemlen could look for him, to please their Maker. Why nobody found him yet remained a miracle to him. But the Dalish continued to help and his body gave up it's stubbornness step by step.

One day, as he rested awake in the aravel, he heard Temalas call for him. This was strange, because the elves had never called him before. They had always waited for him to come out by himself. Solas didn't trust this, but he had no chance than to act casually. He answered the First and Rosala climbed in, eager to drag him outside. Reluctantly, Solas complied.

It was still nighttime and that worried him, too. He tried to recall what he did wrong. Everyone had seemed to support his training. Then he realized something. It set his guts aflame. Was he ready? Would they consider him ready to be branded?

With shaking legs, now for a different reason, he climbed out of the aravel. Temalas looked unusually exited. The sight behind him made Solas' worries grow further. Between the trees, little spheres of light hung like stars above the camp, drowning it in bright colours: gold, red and blue. The elves were all up, so it seemed and he heard drumming. A steady, but inciting rhythm coming from the group.

For a second, Solas feared he knew the rhythm. But luckily, it was different.

Then a humming rose over the noise. The elves sang. Solas just wanted to turn back to the aravel, but now Rosala blocked the entrance. He gave her a stare, the sting of betrayal pounding in his chest. Temalas caught his attention again. With a solemn smile, he held him in his grip and what had been helpful in the past days now looked like a trap. Solas considered to wind himself out of it. To run. But his weak, lonely self against the whole clan? Ridiculous. The First alone would strike him down.

Temalas looked unaware of Solas' struggles. He moved towards the group with him, step after step, making sure they'd reach the destination. Solas despair must've become visible because Temalas suddenly whispered: “Ssh...it's okay. This is a night you wouldn't want to miss.” “What are you doing?” Solas didn't like how high his voice became. “Something beautiful. Just wait.” “I don't think I'm ready for this...” Temalas was surprised by the elf's fear. He thought he would've been drawn to the lights alone, like all the da'lens when they saw them for the first time. Maybe there was something terrible he recognised? “You don't have to do anything, lethal'lin. Just watch.”

Temalas words gave Solas hope. Perhaps it would be just a cozy night with lights and songs. Maybe drinking and telling jokes. No divine rituals. The group opened a spot for them as they approached and the movements looked uncomfortably coordinated, the way they threw their arms up and stepped aside in unison. As he was placed between the others, he had the feeling that all eyes were on him, even though their faces were bathed in lights and shadows alike. The humming intensified and the unknown melody rang in Solas' ears as he tensed and waited for something to happen. Then the lights went out and the music stopped. Solas could hear his pulse pounding in his ears and he feared the others heard it, too.

Without warning, a bolt crashed down from the trees and struck the earth right before his eyes, accompanied by a ear-shattering outcry of an invisible choir. A woman emerged from the blinding sparks, clad entirely in white. Solas could see her braided hair, decorated with pearls and flowers. She stood in front of the group, with her arms wide, as if she waited for something. When the elves began to sing and drum again, she winced and shuddered to their rhythm. The pearls clinked as she moved. Even the lights now flickered, matching her rhythm. Suddenly, she fell into a frantic pace, swirling and kicking her legs as the group spurred her on, clapping their hands.

Solas cowered in their midst, his ears twitching unnoticedly, eyes wide open. He wondered if she danced of her own will or if she was the puppet of the crowd. Her movements flew like water, but always in time with the music, rapid but seemingly effortless. Whenever the light illuminated her face, he saw her closed eyes and her smile. Her clothes were scarves wrapped around her body, swirling with her, creating shapes - spirals, limbs, wings. She seemed to transform in front of him.

When he asked himself if she really transformed, she straightened herself, lifted her arms over her head and went off in flames. It was a blazing white fire, like the bolt that had struck the ground. The invisible choir screamed again. Nobody was alarmed by this. The crowd continued to hum and the drums provided their steady rhythm.

Solas stared at the fire. It changed it's character, from white to orange, emitting a soft, golden light and sending out dancing sparks into the air. It cackled and roared. And then the woman stepped out of it again. No, it was someone else. He couldn't smell her vallaslin over the fire, but he recognised her face and movements. It was the Keeper. Solas unwittingly backed away a bit, eyeing her warily.

She offered her hand to the fire and it began to wander up her arm, becoming a fireball she then held between her fingers. The voices began to sing in the forgotten language. Solas' flesh crawled when he heard them. “Sylaise, arlise’amelan, ehnas ise te’elan mathem. Lanir’sha var’lin’en su mar sul’anathe...”

The Keeper's voice echoed through the camp as she began to speak: “Sylaise, Keeper of the hearth, protector of Clan Enasvaral, we pray to you! We hear you from the depths of the fade, in the howling of the winds, in the thrumming of the rain and the rushing of the trees! Tonight, your voice is loud and your healing hands are reaching out to us! Let me be your vessel and rekindle the flame that warmed us for centuries! ” In an instant, everyone was silent, all eyes fixed on her. Solas wished she was wrong and Sylaise out of reach, but then the flame in her hand exploded. Thundering, dancing, growing like tree branches along her arm. The elves cried out this time, but with joy. Solas watched in horror how the Keeper was engulfed in flames within seconds. Their beauty – glittering in all colours of the rainbow - didn't persuade him. His body was tense, ready to dodge the burning branches. The Keeper moved slowly, crossing her arms as if she hugged herself. Hugged the flame. They grew wings behind her back. Solas gasped. Did she turn into a dragon?

Nobody seemed to worry about it. They continued to hum and clap, as if they kindled the fire like this. Did they feel it too? Sylaise?

Solas felt more and more uncomfortable around them. He searched for a way out while the burning wings grew high above his head. The invisible choir reached another peak. Solas expected a disaster to happen any second. Suddenly, the voices yelled as if in pain and the lights changed from gold to red. The fire turned to ice one second to the other. Another figure walked into view, wrapped in a dark robe made of pelts. Their hood was pulled deep into their face, hiding their features. Glowing red jewels were sewed into the hood, where the figure's eyes would be. Solas' heart almost stopped. They lifted a hand and snapped their fingers. With a clashing sound, the ice broke and the Keeper straightened herself as her wings shattered on the ground.

“This stage play is really charming”, the figure quipped. “But shouldn't you be at home, spinning thread or the like?” Solas realized the voice belonged to Temalas. What was this about? “My dear Trickster, what a pleasant surprise.” The Keeper – or Sylaise? - didn't hide her disgust in her tone. “I didn't expect to see you among the People. Shouldn't you rather stay in the shadow and lick your wounds? Perhaps try to grow your tail back?” That earned laughter from the elves. Solas had no idea what they referred to. The two elves now circled each other.

“It's all but muddy water under the bridge already. The healing arts aren't as elaborate as you claim them to be.” “Are you certain? You know, I listen to every cry for help. Even yours.” “Even mine, how generous of you, dearest Sylaise. But actually, I am here to help you instead.” “How so?” “Fire is a gift and a curse, Hearthkeeper. Dirthara ma.” A fireball shot out of his hands and hit something in the distance. In the flickering light, it looked like an aravel. It's sails were quickly consumed by the fire. “May the elven people bless your fire, Hearth Keeper”, Temalas spat. “And may you curse the day you decided to play with it!”, the Keeper replied.

With a flashing of lights, they attacked each other. Fire roared against ice. The clashing elements grew shapes out of thin air, froze and shattered in a hasty flow. Sparks darted around, stopped and fell. The spellcasters moved in the midst of it all, strutting, waving their arms. The drums, the choir and the voices of the elves became one collateral noise. It was impossible to make out who spurred on who in this creative and destructive dance. Solas felt his heartbeat pound in his ears and his cheeks burn. So far, he only understood this wasn't a fight. The two elves still circled each other, swaying their arms and spinning around. Their movements were coordinated, nobody had the upper hand. Until- The Keeper released a swarm of icicles on the “Trickster”. It was the first time she used that spell. Temalas' arm was now caught in a pillar of ice and he looked at her, struggling to get free. With a wide gesture, she lunged out for another frost wave. Her voice already stung like cold wind on exposed skin when she sneered: “Undirthalan!”

Temalas disappeared in a wall of ice that shot up from the ground, so high it nearly touched the trees. The elves downright cheered, apparently abandoning their choreography for this pinnacle of joy. The Keeper strutted to the newly created sculpture with her hands on her hips, looking very content with her work. Then she spread her arms and said: “May Elgar'nan pass his judgement on you.” Solas felt like she kicked him in the guts. Let Elgar'nan be the judge? Nobody would do that. But they did it to him. He pressed his eyes shut, fighting against the memory. Her eyes. A blazing light, an endless pit of fire, deeper than the void. How could they be so cold? Her sneer froze the blood in his veins. She'd do this to him. Mythal's -

He was ripped out of his memory by multiple hands that nudged and shoved him. Sylaise had turned around and eyed him now. The crowd moved him into her direction, cheering and clapping. Solas wanted to scream in agony. And with rage. With embarrassment. They had known it all along. Of course they had. And he could only hope they made it quick.

„Bell'sulahn“, he whispered to himself as he staggered forward. „Re min ma asahngar?“

They didn't avoid any stereotypes. They made him kneel. Not that he could still stand, anyway. He faced the Keeper with a glare. She remained unimpressed and lifted her hands. Solas tensed, but forced himself not to flinch. He was puzzled when she sprinkled something over him. It felt cold and soft, nothing else. Then she held her hand over his head and said with her thundering voice: “May Sylaise always stir your fire, may she heal your wounds and lead you through the passage of despair into blessedness, as she guided our people for millennia! May the creators watch over you!” More cheers followed and Solas stared at her with a gaping mouth. The Keeper smiled and he had the impression she enjoyed his astonishment. Also, she wasn't finished. “From now on, you will be known as Revanas Enasvaral. You may stand up.”

Solas' body complied, but he didn't know why. The elves still shouted and drummed. The noise rang in his ears. He guessed standing up brought him closer to getting away from here. Halven appeared at his side and Solas clutched his tunic, hoping the Healer was a sign that he could go to bed now. The man helped him through the crowd that shouted words at him. He was too tired to listen. Halven shooed them away as good as he could.

The dancing and singing of the clan continued. Solas only managed to gulp down a drink the Healer gave him, before he sank back into his pillow.

Notes:

“Sylaise, arlise’amelan, ehnas ise te’elan mathem. Lanir’sha var’lin’en su mar sul’anathe” : Sylaise, Hearthkeeper, whose fire cannot be quenched. We give ourselves gladly to your service.” “Dirthara ma”: May you learn. “Undirthalan.”: I learned. „Bell'sulahn, re min ma asahngar?“: Song of Eternity, is this my fate? “Revanas”: spirit of freedom

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #solas/dorian #dragon age solas #dragon age dorian #maker preserve #dalish elves

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fanficsandfluff · 2 years

Text

Tickletober 2022 - Day 8: Death Spot

A/N: Thank you for requesting this fic, @hotshot624! I don't know how well I characterized the guys, but I tried! And I know it's late, I'm gonna be uploading a few more fics I think a couple days late, I just got too busy. Hope this fic is good! <3

Fandom: Jackass (Film & TV)

Characters: Johnny Knoxville, Bam Margera

Bam's always been ticklish. Since he was a kid, it was just a known thing to everyone around him that 'hey! bam is ticklish! let's get him!' and that's just how it was.

Even into the sets of Jackass, pestering Bam with pokes, jabs, flutters among the other tortures the guys administered to each other as pranks, it all just became normal practice. And it was hilarious because no matter how often they did it, Bam would always jump or scream or run away from his attacker. He always had a reaction, thereby making the bit funny.

But Johnny Knoxville had been on a mission for these past few weeks on set. He'd been trying to come up with a bit where Bam was absolutely wrecked with tickles, but no one thought it was funny enough or worth filming. So back to the drawing board it was.

And then the idea just spiraled into Johnny wanting to wreck Bam's shit, regardless of cameras or plans. Bam had been especially dickish with his pranks on set recently anyway, so this was all well-justified.

During the lunch break, some people left the set to eat out, most everyone stayed in the outdoor cafeteria to eat, and some ate in their cars or another safe place in fear of typical Jackass shenanigans. So Knoxville waited until after lunch, when everyone would be called back and they'd usually have a good period of down time while crew set up the next shoot. Knoxville watched as Bam pulled back into the parking lot and got out of his car, immediately walking into the air conditioned offices.

Knoxville stalked Bam and followed him inside, making sure he didn't notice him. He watched Bam go into the men's room and that's when Knoxville knew he would strike. He positioned himself just outside the bathroom door and waited for Bam to come back out. He shushed anyone who walked by and tried talking to him to keep up the sneaky attack. And boom, when Bam emerged and started walking the other way, Knoxville jumped out and tackled him to the ground, the two men rolling around on the carpeted floor for a few seconds.

"What the fuck!" Bam cursed immediately, trying to fight off Knoxville. But the guy had the element of surprise on his side and Bam wasn't prepared to be fighting this hard. Knoxville maneuvered himself so he was straddling Bam and had both his hands pinned under his knees on either side of him.

"Bam, I've been trying to put this together for far too long," Johnny sighed, "It's about time I've caught ya."

And then that signature Knoxville grin spread across Johnny's face and he wiggled his hands in the air up by his head, "Coochie coo, Bam!" and he dove his hands down, scribbling all over Bam's belly and sides.

Bam screamed and he kicked his legs violently, "AHA fuhuhuck you! Fuck you fuck-- stohohop!" he was trying to not laugh to maybe not give Knoxville some of the satisfaction he was getting from this. But it was damn hard, man! Especially when you were as sensitive as Bam was.

Some crew had come by at all the noise to watch the scene, all wearing smiles.

"You see, I wanted to make this a bit," Knoxville was talking as if he wasn't currently tickling the shit out of Bam, "But no one let me. Isn't this fun?" he asked Bam and then looked at the crew around him, "Isn't this fun?" he repeated with more energy and got a few cheers and claps.

Johnny's fingers worked their way up to Bam's ribs and stayed there for a while as that seemed to get deeper laughs to come out of Bam's mouth.

"And the point of the bit was that we'd be finding your Death Spot," Knoxville continued, "Which I don't think any one of us knows. You wanna tell me now and just get it over with?" he smirked.

"NAHAHO! Fuhuck YOU!" Bam slammed his heels against the carpet, "Thahahat's never gonna fucking happen, you prick!"

"I expected that," Johnny let himself giggle gleefully, "Welp, then I guess I'm just gonna have to figure it out on my own!"

Johnny slid his fingers up Bam's ribs and tried to get into his armpits, but Bam was making it hard. Even with his pinned wrists, his arms weren't like pulled way out to the side or anything, so Bam was still able to squeeze his upper arms to his sides.

"Let me in there, Bam, c'mon," Johnny voiced, "Come onn, you little shitbird," he laughed and Bam groaned, "What do I gotta say? Open sesame! Please! Tickle tickle tickle tickle!"

The last few teases got Bam to blush and Johnny fluttered his fingers by Bam's neck and ears, which got the young man giggling and tossing and turning his head. It got him to scrunch his shoulders up to fend off Johnny's fingers, which was part of the plan.

"Bingo!" Johnny dove his hands in with some extra force and Bam was cackling once more, "Is this your death spot? That's why you wouldn't let me in?" he asked and didn't really expect an answer. But the longer Knoxville tickled under Bam's arms, the more he was realizing that no, this couldn't be his worst spot. He felt like he could get Bam laughing louder, harder, and longer.

"Alright, back down we go," Johnny wrenched his hands free and wiggled them back down Bam's torso.

Bam was in hell during this ordeal. No one was helping him because everyone was a dick. And here was Knoxville having the time of his life, airing out all his secrets and sensitive spots for the whole set to know. And damn, the guy knew how to tickle. Bam kept trying to get his arms free but he wasn't able to, and Johnny was using the exact perfect tickling speed and pressure to get him laughing anywhere he touched him. And now Johnny was back by his belly and even snuck his hands up under his shirt to tickle him. God, he sucked. Bam snorted at the lighter belly tickles on his bare skin and Knoxville burst out laughing at hearing that.

"Youhuhu snorted! I didn't know you could snort, Bam!" Knoxville was giddy.

And then he moved his hands even further down, sliding around to Bam's boney hips that were showing clearly above his low-rise jeans and hiked down boxers. Bam took a sharp intake of breath and he shook his head, "No! Knoxville, stop, I mean it! Stop it right now. I swear, Knoxville, I swear to god!" Bam was gritting his teeth and pulling to free his arms even harder.

A grin spread across Johnny Knoxville's face like the Grinch. Christmas had indeed come early.

"What's that? Stop before I get to... here?" he poked his two pointer fingers into both Bam's hips at the same time. He felt Bam's entire lower body jerk roughly to one side at just the poke.

Knoxville let out an evil and excited, "Ohohoho..." before he cracked his knuckles and situated his hands so they gripped both of Bam's hips, his thumbs poised and ready for the attack. Aaannnddd...

Yeah, let's just say Knoxville ended up with a bloody nose and a whole target for revenge slapped onto his back. Hips. Definitely Bam's Death Spot. And wouldn't you know it, someone had a camera out and recorded the whole thing.

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ayamturd · 3 years

Text

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there.

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist.

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying.

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants.

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy.

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then.

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes.

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling.

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him.

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return.

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement.

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air.

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up.

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place.

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle.

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke.

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction.

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly.

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height.

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained.

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side.

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them.

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure.

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself.

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering.

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding.

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.

“No last name?”

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe.

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile.

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand.

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface.

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child.

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold.

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell.

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps.

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south.

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be.

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt.

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away.

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him.

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened.

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch.

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered.

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation.

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug.

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after.

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input.

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly.

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again.

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt.

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare.

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response.

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism.

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them.

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes.

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him.

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him.

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again.

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking.

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house.

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand.

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face.

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion.

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate.

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms.

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain.

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish.

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed.

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to.

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly.

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups.

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning.

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them.

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective.

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake.

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk.

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment.

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained.

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey.

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond.

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him.

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #technoblade imagines #technoblade x gn!reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #father!technoblade x reader #platonic!technoblade x reader

668 notes · View notes

amberbeach · 2 years

Text

'MUSE'

gif belongs to me

From the moment he saw you, Trent felt drawn to you. When you entered a room, his eyes immediately found you, and he was always sad to see you leave. You became friends after you performed at Hayley's, and Trent admired your talent as he absentmindedly drew.

You never knew of his feelings for you, oblivious to the way his eyes followed you in every room, but Hayley was the first to notice how distracted he became whenever you came to the cafe. And after three weeks of watching Trent fall in love with you while you remained unaware of his feelings, she had came up with a plan. If you caught a glimpse of his drawings the way she had during his break, you would realise just how important you were to him.

When you started dating someone else, Trent grew even more determined to hide his drawings, knowing you were happy - a happiness that didn't last for very long. He endured every conversation about an argument you had with your boyfriend - and like today he threw in a sarcastic remark that made you playfully glare at him.

"You're hilarious."

Trent pursed his lips, raising his eyebrows, looking down at his sketch.

You sighed, looking around the park for a moment, turning to Trent, noticing for the first time the way he was shielding the page he was sketching on. "What are you drawing anyway?"

"Nothing." He brushed off.

"Very onimious." You walked over to him. "Let me see."

Trent immediately closed the book, and you raised an eyebrow. "It's nothing."

"Oh, come on. I've seen your art before." You stated, reaching for the book.

Trent jumped to his feet, and you crossed your arms. "Alright. Fine. I won't look at it..." You grabbed the book when Trent sighed in relief, and his eyes widened when you looked inside.

You were silent as you turned the pages, "Is...this me? I mean, of course it is, your drawings are always realisticly detailed."

"I can explain -"

"I, um, better get going." You handed him the book, "I'll see you later, yeah?"

Trent sighed, watching you walk away. He was afraid this would happen. He was afraid of ruining your friendship.

For three days, you steered clear of Hayley's and Trent was noticibly affected by your distance. He left a panicked voicemail after you walked away, declaring his feelings and when you didn't contact him afterwards he assumed your friendship was unsalvagable.

On the fourth day you entered the cafe, and Trent was picking up a tray of mugs he had dropped. You walked over to him, kneeling to help him. He looked up, surprised to see you.

"Uh, hi."

"Hi." He stood up, holding the tray.

"Do you have a minute?" You asked, walking with him to the counter.

Trent glanced at Hayley who motioned behind you for him to go. "Okay."

You went to a table, and took a seat, Trent sitting across from you. "I want to apologise for the other day...I shouldn't have disappeared like that."

"Look, I get it. You don't feel the same way."

"And if I did?"

Trent wasn't expecting that response. "Wha - Really?"

You nodded, lowering your gaze to the table. "The only reason I started seeing someone was because I thought you could never be interested in me. But when I heard your message..." A small smile formed on your lips, "Well, shocked didn't quite cover it. It's not every day you find out your the muse of a talented artist."

Trent opened his mouth to brush off your claims, but you didn't allow him the chance.

"You are talented." You smiled across at him, "You're amazing. And I'm sorry. The last few months couldn't have been easy for you."

Trent knew this was his chance and he was determined to take it.

"I don't know...it's getting better." He reached out his hand and you held it on the table, a blush dusting your cheeks when his thumb ran across your hand. "Do you want to go out sometime?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You smiled teasingly.

"Definitely." Trent nodded.

"I would love to."

"Tomorrow?"

You nodded. "I'll see you later?" You asked as you both stood up.

"Okay." He smiled softly.

You squeezed his hand, turning away before returning, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Bye." You whispered, sending a smile as you left.

Trent turned to Hayley who was turning away, trying to hide that she had been listening in on your conversation. He smiled at her poor attempts, walking over.

The smile never left his lips for the remainder of the day.

#trent fernandez #trent fernandez x reader #trent fernandez imagine #trent fernandez imagines #trent fernandez-mercer #trent fernandez-mercer x reader #trent fernandez-mercer imagine #trent fernandez-mercer imagines

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #bella swan #edward cullen #edward/bella #anti edward/bella #carlisle cullen #the volturi #aro #caius #demetri #rosalie hale #alice cullen #the cullens #the denali #meta #headcanon #opinion

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musings-from-an-elder-goth · 2 years

Text

That Time a 'Satanic Panic' Guy Lectured at My University

"Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven." - Satan, Paradise Lost

Circa 1989.

Like most folks who were teens during the 80's, I and my mostly goth friends played Dungeons & Dragons fairly often, however, we were never particularly hard-core gamers. I enjoyed playing necromancers, even if it was cliché. Although we all owned the rule books, the dice, the charts and tables, we rarely followed one session with another and preferred our games to be somewhat brief. We certainly knew of folks just like the Hellfire Club in Stranger Things season 4, who met every weekend at a set time and who played with the same character in the same game for years, but that wasn't our little group. We were strictly casual.

We much preferred D&D computer games. These had the obvious advantages of not requiring any other players and being ready to play at a moments notice. Games such as Dungeons of Daggorath, Temple of Apshai, The Ultima series, The Bard's Tale, and eventually the AD&D Gold Box series, were all games we spent hundreds of hours hacking and slashing our way through, to our endless delight.

Despite the thousands of hours we spent playing these games, nary a one of us managed to accidentally summon a demon, inadvertently become Satan's minion, or accidentally dice our souls away to the neither realms. So it was always with mirthful amusement we regarded the 'Satanic Panic' folks whenever they popped up on a TV talk show professing that we young, impressionable youth had all become Lucifer's love slaves.

Anyway, it was sometime in late 1989, when I heard that one of these Satanic Panic folks would be giving a lecture on the evils of the wacky dice at my school, Virginia Commonwealth University, in the Harris Hall auditorium. I rounded up as many of my very goth and militantly pro-D&D friends as I could and we made sure we got there good and early for this clown's lecture. We sat in the first row, right in front of the lectern.

Surprisingly, this little side show actually managed to draw quite the crowd, and the auditorium was nearly filled to capacity. Right on time, an ordinary looking guy in his mid-30's came out and took his place behind the the hardwood podium. He looked out at the large crowd with obvious surprise and smiled a little. But then he noticed our pool of darkness in the front row, and the color drained from his face. I remember chuckling to myself that this doofus must have thought that Satan himself had sent a minor detachment of his legions just to challenge him, one of the Lord's own righteous warriors. I settled into my chair, excited for the impending chaos. Chaotic Neutral alignment, all the way.

The next 15 minutes were everything I could have ever hoped for. Mr. Satanic Panic confidently began his lecture and was actually a fairly competent and polished speaker. He rattled off the usual satanic panic talking points, but he was accustomed to preaching to the choir, and this crowd was no choir. Almost immediately, the counter points began being shouted out. "I've played this game for years and I'm no satanist!" "It's just a game, like chess or Monopoly, you idiot!" "Have you ever actually played the game you're bashing?" And so forth. The university moderator repeatedly tried to calm the crowd (now more of a mob) down, but to no avail. The poor speaker was quickly reduced to stuttering, dropping his notes, loosing his place, repeating what he'd already said, and sweating profusely. Our little group of goths hadn't even said a word, but he kept looking down fearfully at us like we were somehow controlling the other students through satanic sorcery - it was hilarious! It was at this point, and I shit you not, Mr. Satanic Panic straight up fainted, dropping to the floor behind the lectern like a sack of righteous potatoes.

And with that, the show was over. Mr. Satanic Panic was fine. As we students were filing out of the auditorium, an ambulance arrived, but the guy was able to stand and walk about on his own. He may have faked the faint just to get out of an ugly situation (and if so, I don't blame him) or it could have been legit. While leaving, I overhead other students chatting about how we'd collectively 'won a victory' and taught this guy not to bring his special brand of crazy back to our University. Honestly, I think Mr. Panic would run back to his church and tell the congregation that he'd bravely faced down a demonic legion, only faltering at the last moment when he briefly doubted in the Power of the Lord, or some such silliness. Regardless, he never vexed VCU again, at least not while I was a student there. I chalked that up as a solid win for goth gaming.

And that was what happened that time a satanic panic guy lectured at my university in Richmond, VA, back in late 1989.

creaturesfromelsewhere 3-12-2022

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tsumusamu · 3 years

Text

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

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#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #manga #fluff #humor #hq atsumu #fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #inarizaki #hq #miya osamu

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

Note

Among Us: Crewmate Impulse getting an imposter voted out on a hunch, except this time the "hunch" is actually just Ghost Tango somehow yelling at him from the dead loud enough to influence his subconscious/code (this idea brought to you by: rewatching vods from before Tango got his compressor lol)

yeaaaa so this one is gonna have a LOT of caps in it lol i hope that’s okay. i’ll put a cw in the tags as well just in case

also i want to share the fact that this google doc is labelled “Tangy yell” lmfao

…

Impulse is standing at the upload panel when Tango enters admin to do his card swipe. The two exchange “hey”s at the entrance, before Tango heads over to stand at the admin table.

The last thing he sees before his vision goes black is the image of a figure popping out of the vent in the corner.

Tango sits bolt upright with a gasp. “Gaah! Skizz, what the hell?! That was the stupidest thing ever! Impulse is-!”

He breaks off as he spots Impulse turning away and leaving the upload panel without even turning to check the rest of the room.

“Hey,” says Joker, floating through the wall to join Tango in admin. “How’s it-.”

“Are you KIDDING me, Impulse?!”

Joker winces and covers his ears. “God, man… You need a compressor.”

“Impulse was RIGHT there!” Tango bellows, flinging his arms out towards his dead body over and over again. “He was standing FIVE FEET away from me! How did he not even notice I DIED?!”

“Tango!” Astro, who has just entered the room through the wall, yelps. “Inside voices, please!”

Crossing his arms, Tango floats furiously in the middle of the room, his upper half sticking out of the admin table, steaming so hard that he can almost feel actual steam rising off his transparent ghosty body.

“And I thought I was bad at noticing bodies,” grumbles Tango. “‘Least I’ve never had someone die five feet behind me and just left without checking if the person behind me two seconds ago is still alive. Stupid Impulse and stupid Skizz with his stupid face. I hate ‘em. I hate their stupid faces.”

“You might feel a bit better if you decided to do some tasks,” Astro says pointedly, finishing his upload. “So, you know, we have a chance of winning?”

“Don’t patronise me, Zoan.”

Just as Tango turns away, his dead body is finally reported. At the meeting, Tango has to just sit silently and watch as everyone discusses where they saw him last.

“I saw him in admin a minute or so ago,” Impulse reports. “But he was alive when I left.”

Astro winces, already knowing what’s coming.

“ARE YOU MOTHERFRICKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, IMPULSE?!”

Sure enough, Tango’s subsequent roar shatters the ghosts’ eardrums.

“YOU ONLY THINK I WAS ALIVE WHEN YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE- YOU DIDN’T- OH MY GOD, IMPULSE!” Tango face is as red as a tomato, the blood vessels sticking out of his neck despite being dead. “HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO UNOBSERVANT?! SKIZZ LITERALLY VENTED! INTO THE ROOM! AND KILLED ME! THEN VENTED OUT AGAIN! UNDER YOUR MOTHERFRICKING NOSE! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN CHECK ON ME BEFORE YOU LEF-!”

Tango’s voice cracks and he breaks into a fit of coughing.

“Oh my GOD, Tango, you need to take it down like a billion notches!” Joker rubs his ears in pain. “Or get a compressor or something, dude! You’re giving me a headache and I’m DEAD.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Tango lets out a prolonged funny noise, unable to do much else with his now sore throat. “Hate. Hate you all.”

“Stop talking before you lose your voice completely,” Astro says in a dad-like way. “You can get some water when we’re back in the lobby. Just take a moment to-.”

“Oh my god, guys, listen to the meeting,” interrupts Joker suddenly. “Listen!”

“-can’t explain why,” Impulse is saying. “I just think it’s Skizz. I mean, not only does he not have an alibi but also he says he just went into navigation, which has a vent leading from admin outside it.”

“Oh c’mon, that’s circumstantial,” retorts Skizz.

“I feel it in my bones, dude. I just have a hunch that it’s you.”

Astro turns to Tango with an impressed expression. “Dude, I think you yelled at him so loudly that your voice crossed the border between life and death.”

“Good,” croaks Tango hoarsely. “I hate him.”

“You know what, I’ll buy that,” Brody says in response to Impulse’s accusations. “I haven’t seen Skizz all game and he hasn’t really tried to be helpful at all lately, so I’ll vote him off, sure.”

“Oh come on!” Skizz snaps. “Really?”

Impulse nods. “Yup, cuz I know you’re the imposter.”

“As Tango would say: negative!”

“You said he only says that when he’s imposter.”

Skizz opens his mouth but apparently can’t find anything to say back to that.

Tango watches with a certain amount of satisfaction as Skizz is voted off the ship. With the sheriffing of Endless earlier in the game, the round ends and everyone is sent back to the lobby.

Tango immediately storms up to Skizz and glares at him. Skizz gives a chuckle as he gets up off the seat. “Hey, buddy. That was a really good kill, you gotta admit.”

All Tango can do in reply is glare at him.

“Tango lost his voice from screaming at you guys,” Astro explains with a grin.

“Wait, he can’t talk?” Skizz snorts. “That’s hilarious.”

His face twisted in a furious expression, Tango makes a wringing-neck hand movement at Skizz, who laughs and takes a step back. “Oh man, you’re REALLY mad.”

Nodding firmly, Tango turns to Impulse. He jabs his finger at his best friend, then draws it across his neck.

“Why’s he mad at ME?!” yelps Impulse.

“Because I vented into admin, killed him, and vented out again right under your nose,”Skizz snickers.

Impulse’s eyes widen. “No way…!”

“And you left the room without checking on him so you thought he was still alive when you left,” adds Astro. “As he kept saying. Or yelling, rather. Many times.”

“Ohhhhhhh noooooooo…!” Impulse gives his best friend an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, Tango! I had no idea, man.”

Clearly still furious, Tango jabs his finger at him, then makes the same neck-wringing gesture at Impulse, before finally throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I, uh… I think we might need to take a break and get Tango some water,” Impulse says sheepishly.

Tango opens his mouth and dissolves into another fit of coughing.

“...and some cough drops.”

“I’m gonna have permanent hearing loss after that,” grumbles Joker, still rubbing his ears. “I swear to god, I’m not playing with you again until you get a compressor.”

Tango gives him an apologetic and slightly sheepish look.

“So wait, what exactly happened there?” asks Etho suddenly. “Impulse, you had no information and then suddenly you were saying it was Skizz. What happened there?”

“I literally heard Tango’s voice in my ear,” Impulse explains. “It sounded like he was yelling and I didn’t hear full sentences, only bits and pieces. I heard “Skizz”, “kill”, and “vent”. So I put two and two together.”

“Your voice was so strong that it broke through the beyond and reached the realm of the living,” Skizz snickers. “I can’t even be mad about that; that’s pretty awesome. But bro. Joker’s right; you desperately need a compressor.”

Tango rolls his eyes, wishing his friends would stop saying that.

“Anyway, let’s take five and meet back here after,” says Impulse. “Tango, let’s get you some water.”

Etho watches the two of them leave the lobby together, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know how it’s possible that Tango managed to get through to Impulse despite being separated by death, but he does know that this can’t be good. There’s a reason the living can’t hear the dead.

Or maybe he’s just thinking too hard about it. If there’s anyone out there who can yell loud enough to make someone who shouldn’t be able to hear him hear him, it’s TangoTek.

Maybe they really do need to get him that compressor.

#friday night stabby #tangotek #impulsesv #skizzleman #cw caps #vaunna’s requests

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deaththesyd · 3 years

Text

To The Brink Of Confession: Chapter 1, "He's not ugly"

I'd like to blame @mytanuki-kun for one of their works inspiring this side project that is now in the way of my Kisame week progress. As frustrating as this is, I'm having fun with this one and I'm excited to write my first true multi-chapter fic, even if it doesn't fit with the rest of my works and their timeline.

Summary: At first, she had shrugged it off as him simply being worn out from all the social interaction, but if that was the case, why was he only avoiding her?

At first, she had let it slide. Being super friendly and interacting with people was draining after all, and being forced to live in close quarters with such a loud group was sure to take its toll on even the most extroverted people. His avoidance lasted the entire rest of his time spent in her world, but she didn’t worry. As usual, a month passed by before she herself was teleported away into the foreign world of Jutsu, violence, and ninja. She even shook off her doubts when instead of her usual escorts, she was picked up by Kakuzu and Hidan, being told that the others were all preoccupied with important missions, ones that she would only be a distraction from. Entertaining as she found the duo and their antics, she couldn’t exactly hide her disappointment from the silver-haired loudmouth she had grown to consider a friend.

“What’s with all the moping, huh?” He said loudly, stood in front of her, face lowered to look her directly in the eyes as she had been watching the ground as she walked. Blocking her path forward, she stopped to look up at him, forcing herself to push down her thoughts and play them off as nothing. Surprising as it may be, Hidan wasn’t entirely self-absorbed and happened to be pretty talented at sensing other's emotions, a skill that he very rarely made use of. Not that it was really all that hard to see that something was up with her. Always easy to read, an open book, she was the worst liar and easily the most sincere person he had met. He seriously couldn’t stand her mood lately, it was worried and upsetting. Mixed with Kakuzu’s ongoing anger at everything and everyone, the irritating emotions were mixing and giving Hidan a headache. There were only two ways he could think of to fix this, either piss off Kakuzu to relieve his built-up stress and risk an explosive and painful response, or play concerned friend and get the woman lagging behind them to return to her normal upbeat self. Contemplating both options, the least painful option seemed the best bet.

“It’s not nothing, I can tell, so don’t bother lying, you’re shit at it anyway,” he cut her off as she tried to reply.

She tried anyway. “Really though,” she said, smiling almost convincingly, “I’m just lost in thought, we’ve been walking all day, can you blame me for tuning out?” Waving him off, she sidestepped him to follow after Kakuzu, who had not stopped for them and was quickly leaving them behind.

Knowing that the likelihood of being separated from Kakuzu was high if they didn’t keep up with the old man, he didn’t hold her back but stayed by her side to press for a proper response. “I said not to fucking lie,” he spoke casually knowing that anything truly harsh would only shut her up further, “you’ve been like this ever since you got here, it’s not just you being tired of walking.”

Sighing, she replied, “Ok, you’re right that I’m not just tired, but it’s nothing, really. I just need to manage it by myself.” No longer lying was a step forward, but she kept her lips tight on whatever it was. She was stubborn, but Hidan was persistent.

“What’s with you being all shy all of a sudden? You’re always so fucking talkative no one but Fishface can get you to be quiet,” he complained, almost missing how she reacted at the mention of the tall swordsmen. He grinned, seemed like he had a hook. “Awe, is this about your little crush on the big guy? Did you ask him out and he chickened out?” He laughed cruelly.

It wasn’t much of a secret that she had feelings for Kisame, she wasn’t very good at hiding how he caught her eye, often spacing out while watching him train, and making any excuse to get his attention. Everyone at some point had noticed the flush to her face around him, or the fond look in her eyes as she looked up at him. To most, it wasn’t anything to focus on. Kakuzu and Sasori couldn’t care less about it, as long as she wasn’t being obnoxious, Itachi seemed to keep a careful watch over her and her interactions with his partner, his reasons were unknown to Hidan who couldn’t care less about the Uchiha. Deidara and Hidan made sure to poke fun and tease her at any opportunity, making sure to keep their taunts from the man of her affections, trying to draw out their entertainment as long as they could. After months of this, she had become accustomed to the mostly friendly jeering from the two and had begun to poke fun at herself as well. It seemed she had resigned herself to watching from afar and keeping her flirting to a level that was easily mistaken for friendly conversation by the oblivious man.

Years of being acquainted with Kisame had only given Hidan a surface-level knowledge of the man, but recently he had noticed just how unconfident truly was of his looks, something he of course zeroed in on immediately. 6 foot whatever and hulking over even Kakuzu, it was hilarious to him that the member of the legendary Swordsmen of the Mist was both self-conscious over his fishy appearance, and his years of training as a ninja had not taught him to notice the obvious signs that a woman was into him. How anyone could be so unaware, yet so skilled was beyond him.

Her face saddened at his words, her brow furrowing, and her eyes cast themselves to the ground again. “I haven’t said anything, but I think he might have caught on,” she said quietly.

Despite her clearly upset confession, he grinned. “Way to go! Fishface finally figured out how to see above water, wondered if his brain was just waterlogged,” he snickered, excited that he could finally openly pick on him over the subject, but she didn’t smile and remind him to be nice like she normally did when he made digs at the sharkman. Clearly not a good sign then.

“I think he’s avoiding me,” she said, looking defeatedly at her shuffling feet. Now that made no sense.

Not long after it was clear to everyone but Kisame that she had an attraction to the tall man, it became more and more obvious that it was reciprocated. As much as she stared at him, he stared at her. Less openly, probably why it had taken everyone a while longer to see it, but it was well known that the two were complete idiots that had no clue the other was just as interested as they were. Part of Hidan had wanted to tell them immediately, embarrass them and make a scene out of it all, but another part of him had held onto their frustrations and fed off of it as a much more drawn-out entertainment source. Deidara was in on it too, saying that as much as he wanted to set off an explosive show by forcing their feelings out into the open, he also wanted there to be a build-up. In the meantime, they got to tease their fishy accomplice as much as they could get away with without pissing him off and alerting the other half of the pining duo. The fact that Kisame was avoiding her after finding out she felt the same was not what anyone had expected. For once in his life, Hidan was pissed at the drama of it. He would not admit that he was actually looking forward to the two becoming a couple.

“Bet he’s just scared that someone thinks his ugly mug is hot and is worried for your sanity,” he laughed. Her hand smacked him halfheartedly.

“He’s not ugly.” She said sternly, “Although with how forward I’ve been, he may have been creeped out,” she smiled, but there was a twinge of pain on her face that Hidan couldn’t help but notice. It pissed him off, his whole religion was about inflicting pain and death for his God, but seeing her genuinely upset gave him a feeling of frustration on her behalf.

“There’s no way he’s creeped out by your creepy staring,” he found himself attempting to reassure her, feeling as though he was betraying his and Deidara’s whole scheme. “He’s clearly just as much a creepy stalker as you are.”

Unsure that she had heard him correctly, she looked up to see Hidan avoiding eye contact, looking off the side of the road, ignoring her reaction purposely. “I don’t see how he’s the stalker,” she laughed humorlessly, “When he’s the one avoiding me.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re just as fucking blind as he is,” he muttered. Her sudden giggle made him look at her in suspicion. “The hell’s so funny?”

She brought a hand to try and stifle her laughter before she spoke, “What’s got you all grumpy now? Upset someones not crushing back on you?” She teased, eyes darting to look at the silent man trudging forward ahead of them, then back at Hidan.

The glare he shot her only made her giggles slightly louder. “What the fuck are you gettin’ at?” He spat, daring her to continue.

Humming whimsically, she spoke, “I just think that maybe you’re projecting some of your own frustrations onto someone else.”

He should have chosen to piss off Kakuzu. She may have been the lesser of two evils at a first glance, but the ability she had to force him into subjects he would rather avoid was something he had forgotten to account for in his earlier decision. Unlike the completely requited yet oblivious relationship between her and Kisame, Hidan’s own feelings were something he tried to ignore whenever possible. It was just a shitty joke she had made, something about how Hidan should leave her alone since he was really just trying to make the old man jealous. Something he should have shaken off with a normal insult towards the old miser, yet he had frozen, caught off guard by the accuracy. That was the one and only time he had ever allowed himself to come out to someone and let them live. It was shameful in the church to have feelings of devotion for anyone but Jashin, yet wanting someone that couldn’t produce more followers was even more so. Adamantly, he refused his feelings towards the man, but since that day she had treated his explicit flirting as nothing more than a show.

Embarrassed as he was, his comeback held no bite, and her teasing and further avoidance of the earlier topic increased. Eventually, it turned into a loud argument that reached Kakuzu’s ears, who ended their annoying discussion by threatening them both. She was easier to scare, but whatever they had been squabbling about had made Hidan more feisty than normal.

“Fuck off you old dick! There’s plenty of politer ways to ask to be included in a conversation,” came the danger prodding taunt from the young man. It was hard to guess why, but the older man’s fuse was shorter than usual, and the woman yelped as a dark arm split off from the man's torso to grab the face of the loudmouthed man right beside her. Flailing wildly and ineffectively he was dragged along the ground, yanked by the harsh grip of the intolerant man. Green eyes surrounded by red sclera flashed at her, warning her she would be next if she didn’t follow quietly. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she did just that.

#hidan #kakuzu #kisame #kisame x reader #mild swearing #upset that im writing this instead of kisame prompts #I wrote this just to clear my head and now im writing a multichapter fic wtf #Changed the title cause I hated it

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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years

Note

could you write one with a modern au where the reader is a dancer and doesn’t have the typical dancer body like everyone else and is really insecure but race is there to comfort them?

Love?

Racetrack Higgins x chubby!reader

Summary: Three girls make your escape a little less freeing but a confession from Race brings back a little confidence and let’s a small dream come true.

Masterlist

A/N: So as a chubby girl who does musical theatre classes, this was a good outlet. Thank you so much for requesting, it honestly makes my day.

GIF isn’t mine

It had always been your thing. Something you had relied on since before you could walk. The amount of videos of you dancing was unreal. As soon as you were old enough, there you were in classes and on stage, light on your little toes. And slowly as you got older, you joined more classes and spent more of your spare time perfecting form and practicing every minute you could. It was an escape, one you had become so dependant on that it killed you when you missed a class. But things happen when you get older, you start to notice how judgemental people are and how pressuring they can be too. You may dance every day but you didn't have a typical perfect dancer body. You were slightly chubby and people noticed. And they weren't exactly quiet about it.

There was this group of girls in your dance class, the three were your basic bullies. They all found it hilarious when you danced, giggling and whispering behind their hands. It pissed you off. How could they deem you worthy of that treatment just because you were slightly bigger? You'd seen them whisper to others, point out little things and you tried your hardest not to let it get to you. But of course it did. And you had tried everything you could to lose weight but nothing ever worked and you had learned to just try to deal with it. You couldn't but every class, you tried. It had caused you to hate your dance clothes, to lose your confidence, to watch everyone as you hugged yourself to make sure they weren't looking. You were scared of people, everyone judging you.

Today, you were performing on stage in front of this massive crowd. you'd already done the tap number and the jazz and next you had your ballet solo. You were already uncomfortable enough over your leotard and your hair looked a little messy but you only had a minute until you were on so there was no time to fix it. As you slipped on your ballet shoes, there was a knock at the door. Glancing over, you saw Race there in his all his glory. Bright blue eyes, blonde curls and cheeky grin. You had known Race for a while now, being in similar classes at school and getting paired together sometimes in dance. You hadn't actually talked to him, like full conversation talk to him, until a year or so ago. You had both been paired in history and had to do a project over a two week period and you two became quick friends. Of course you had a small crush on him but so did like half the school. And he flirted with plenty of girls so you were just fine to keep the status quo. You were sure he had what those girls had said anyway, probably wouldn't ever go for you and maybe even agreed with them.

He grinned as he leant against the frame of the door with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just came by to wish ya luck. Break a leg," you smiled back, eyes drifting back to your feet as you tugged the shoe on. You knew he was still there so you sent another smile over your shoulder, "Thanks Racer, means a lot," you replied as you got up and jumped to make sure they were on properly. You heard him laugh and felt your stomach drop, arms coming up cross over your stomach. "Gotta go," you muttered to him as you made your way past and to the left wing of the stage. Shaking out your hands, you bounced on your heels as a smile took its rightful place on your face. It soon faded however when you remembered he laughed. He laughed. You knew it, he agreed with them. He agreed that you shouldn't be dancing, that you looked ridiculous out on stage and that you might as well give up. He agreed that you were pathetic for ever thinking that you looked good dancing, that you would ever make it.

You heard the song they were currently performing to end and watched them rush off to the right wing. You slowly headed to your mark and when the music started to play, all thoughts dissipating as you danced. The dance was one you had been practicing for months, you could do it with your eyes closed and you could had it perfectly timed even with you did it no music. It was practically engraved into your muscle memory and didn't need much thought to what you did next. You were glad the lights were so bright, always happy with the way the audience's faces were blocked out. As you turned, you caught gazes with a certain blue pair that reminded you of what you didn't what to think right of at that moment. Trying to suppress the thoughts, you carried on with the leap. As you went, you could feel everything you were doing wrong and immediately went to point your toes more but that seemed to throw you off as you landed. You twisted your ankle as your foot touched the ground and you tumbled. The music faded as they realised what had happened and the lights dimmed for them to get you off without much without much hassle. You could to see the faces, people whispering one another and you felt the tears begin to well as you immediately got up and tried to walk off stage but it hurt too bad. You fell forward again but this time you grabbed ahold of two arms that happened to belong to a certain blonde beauty.

Oh great, not only did all those people see but also the boy you had a massive crush and was also one of your closet friends had had a front row seat. You looked to eyes, expecting amusement and maybe disgust but the only thing you saw was concern. You would've been confused if you hadn't been in so much pain. You barely registered him lifting your arm over his head and placing it over his shoulders as your dance teacher helped him help you off stage. They sat you down in the dressing room and you saw the three girls leave, giggling to themselves as they went. The tears seemed to get worse as your teacher left to get a first aid kit and an ice pack. Race stayed right by your side, holding your hand as he checked your ankle and completely oblivious to the tears that fell down your cheeks. Sniffling a bit, you caught his attention and quickly you wiped away the tears as you spoke, "I'm fine, you can go," the look he gave you was priceless, the complete disbelief enough to make you laugh a little even with how you were. Race shook his head as he stood and grabbed a seat and putting a cushion there for you to rest your ankle on. "You'se know when I said 'break a leg', I'se didn't mean it literally, right?" You giggled again, making him smile at you all goofily but the worry never went away.

He watched you shift and fiddled his thumbs before finally asking the question on the tip of his tongue, "What happened?" You stared at him, baffled by the words and you shifted again as you winced but still managed to say, "I got hurt," he gave you a look that clearly showed his frustration with the answer before he shook his head and rephrased. He met your eyes as he spoke, a sincerity in his voice that unsettled you, "I mean, I'se seen you do that dance a hundred times and you'se never done that before, what happened?" You scoffed and sunk into your seat as you stared at your swelling ankle. Like he cared. Why would he care about you? He liked dancers, people who were actually good looking dancers and everyone knew that wasn’t you. “I tripped, it happens,” you excused and this time he scoffed whilst moving to grab your hand again. He frowned and his eyes twinkled in the light and you felt your heart stop for just a second. “Not to you. You’se perfect at dancing,”

“Yeah right,”

“What’s that mean?” You avoided eye contact and began to pick at your leotard as you stayed in silence. Knowing he was waiting, you gave a small shrug and bit your lip, teeth digging in as hard as they could and you were worried you may bleed. Race moved his head slightly so he was in your eye sight and you huffed like a sulking child, “Just some stuff. I- There’s these girls-” Race sighed and you looked up at him, brows drawing together in confusion. He changed how he held your hand, grabbing it tightly in both of his and you placed your other hand on his in worry. Why was he looking at you all sad puppy like? “I’se heard what they was saying. It’s not true, you’se gotta know that! You are perfect, ya work hard, ya do anythink ya want, ya funny and sweet and kind and I loves you’se just the way ya are. Who cares ‘bout a little chub, I’se think it’s beautiful and cute,” you heard him laugh as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped as you registered what he said. He meant as friends, right?

“Love? You, um, you said love? Did you know you said love?” He chuckled at that, moving slightly closer and reaching to wipe away any remainder of your tears whilst still holding your hand tightly. “Yeah, I‘se know. I loves ya,” you watch the smile falter as he glanced down and his shoulders tensed, “Would I, Uh, could I kiss you’se?” You grinned at how nervous he seemed, you made the Racer nervous. You couldn’t believe it. Deciding to mess with him a little, you shrug and pretend to think about it whilst pretending to not notice the growing smile and blush on his face. “Yeah, I think that’d be okay,” his grin matched yours quicker than you could process, loving and goofy. He shifted slightly and reached up to hold your cheeks before he leant in most of the way. You scoffed at the cheeky grin on his lips and he breathed out a laugh at that. “Just kiss me you idiot,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he stroked his thumb across your cheek. You could see the mischief swirling amongst the blue and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh confident now, are we?” With that, you pressed your lips to his and you couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss when you heard the surprised noise from him. Slowly he melted into the kiss, one hand moving to your neck as yours went to his hair, fingers twirling the curls. After a little while, you pulled back from Race and you couldn’t help but giggle at the way he chased your lips. You were both so caught up in each other, you didn’t notice your teacher walk through the door.

“Oh, I’m sorry- Wait, are you two-? Finally!”

#newsies #newsies x reader #racetrack newsies #racetrack x reader #racetrack higgins #racetrack x chubby!reader #racetrack x dancer!reader #racetrack imagine #modern au

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

The Man Comes Around

Over at the Wen Indoctrination Tower, which seems to exist just to torture Lan Wangji with stair climbing, Lan Wangji is climbing the stairs. Too bad his cultivation level is too low to be able to just jump up. At least this time his leg isn't broken.

This is the first vengeful stair-climb in the show, but not the last. (Parallel gifset here).

The Wen guards are stationed all the way at the pinnacle of this tower to guard...what? Why are they not at the bottom of the stairs? What is this location for, actually? This is further up the stairs than the scenes with the indoctrination lectures. Anyway, it's been three months since Wen Chao threw Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds, so naturally these guards are talking about that exact thing as Lan Wangji approaches.

Lan Wangji knocks them all down with a blast from his guqin. Did you know his guqin is named Wangji, by the way? It is. A guy who is that lazy about naming his quqin maybe shouldn't feel so superior to a guy who named his sword "whatever."

(I'm suddenly remembering a plush lamb I had as a child, whose eyes were orange, that I named "orange eyes.") (I, however, was three. And I had a lot of plush lambs. Little ones. Grown-ups found it hilarious to give them to me.) (Native speakers of English can probably guess what OP's real name is. Hint: it rhymes with Canary.) (Everybody else: there is a kid's rhyming song called Mary Had A Little Lamb. OP's name is Mary.)

Anyhoo, after Lan Wangji is finally finished with his dramatic entrance, Jiang Cheng comes flying in from wherever he's been hovering for the past 20 minutes of stair time. A bunch of Lan sidekicks also flood into the frame from wherever they were hiding during the wide shots of LWJ on the staircase.

In case you hope that CQL Lan Wangji is as much of a top (offscreen) as MZDS Lan Wangji is (on the page), here's a gif for you.

(more after the cut)

He uses the patented Lan string attack to choke this guard. Lan Wangji doesn't have to hold a guqin string in his hands to choke someone with it. He doesn't even have to tighten it, judging by how absurdly not-tight this string is.

Or maybe this guy is choking on the chin strap of his helmet. This is exactly how OP's son reacts when OP sticks a bike helmet on him. (Note: it's GOOD that they are following choking safety protocols on set. Very good. However, they could have just left the string out and pretended, and it would look better, in this instance)

The Wen guard tells Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng about the whole "thrown into the burial mounds" thing. Team Let's Find Wei Wuxian is not happy to hear this.

A Vengeful Ghost

Meanwhile, in some Wen office somewhere? Where the hell is this? Yiling, we get an ominous shot of the rooftops where Wei Wuxian is lurking and then we see Wang Lingjiao trying to sleep and having a nightmare.

Wang Lingjiao has gone to sleep with a full face of makeup on instead of washing her face before bed. She has forgotten the important maxim, Go To Sleep Pretty, Wake Up Zitty.

She leaps out of bed to go cling to Wen Chao and freak out about Wei Wuxian's ghost. Wen Chao is trying to read the sports section and has clearly had enough of this crap. This has presumably been going on for a little while now.

Wang Lingjiao is in a new outfit, which is...pajamas? It has the feel of a 1930's French peignoir set, and it's much more softly colored than her usual bright red-purple combo. If this is her pajamas is it weird that her day clothes are a lot more aggressively sexy-looking than her nightgown? A freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets.

Wen Chao rants about the Sunshot Campaign and talks some smack about Wen Qing, and then leaves to go to the bar and watch the game with Wen Zhuliu. After he leaves Wang Lingjiao freaks out for a bit and then looks at the notice he was reading.

The notice basically says that the Sunshot Campaign is kicking their ass. She should be proud for inspiring the name of the campaign with that kite-shooting bullshit she made up at Lotus Pier. Before slaughtering everyone.

No Matter What You Do, I Only Want To Be With You

Back at the Indoctrination Tower, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are having feelings about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Chang does all the talking but Lan Wangji's thoughts are louder because a sad violin is playing Wangxian while they talk.

Jiang Cheng tells Lan Wangji about their meetup plan and says he thought WWX had dumped him to go find Lan Wangji in Lanling. Lan Wangji telepathically indicates that this didn’t happen. This means two things: 1. Lan Wangji has been hanging out in Lanling, where Jiang Yanli has been hanging out, so maybe they have bonded over the past 3 months and 2. This is the first time Jiang Cheng has talked to Lan Wangji since Wei Wuxian disappeared.

Much as my fic-loving heart would like to believe these two spent three months on the road together looking for Wei Wuxian, in fact they are both important high-level fighters in an active military campaign, and Lan Wangji was busy taking back the Cloud Recesses while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were having elective surgery. They probably both were assigned to the "Indoctrination Bureau" mission and this is the first chance they've had to talk about Wei Wuxian.

Is it heartbreaking that, while Wei Wuxian was helplessly getting his ass beat because he'd sacrificed his golden core for Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng believed Wei Wuxian had abandoned him for Lan Wangji? Yes. Yes it is.

For some reason Jiang Cheng is hesitant to believe that Wei Wuxian really was thrown into the Burial Mounds. I mean, I understand not wanting to believe Wei Wuxian is dead, but given that Wen Chao is the dude who oversaw the massacre of all of the people at Lotus Pier, including kids, why would Jiang Cheng think his guards are wrong? Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian is invincible, since so far he kinda has been.

The Sword is Mightier Than Not Having a Sword

While they've been chatting, the Lan disciples have found their swords. One disciple is holding Bichen (LWJ's sword), Sandu (JC's sword), and OP consults wiki Suihua (Jin Zixuan's sword). Another disciple is holding Subian (WWX's sword).

Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu while the Lan disciples, who apparently know their gongzi’s heart, offer Wei Wuxian's sword to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji takes Subian (Bichen: What am I, chopped watercress?) and immediately tries to draw it. Like you don't do. It's sealed itself, which apparently means that it's upset. It's unclear if it's upset because Wei Wuxian is dead or if it just misses him, however.

Lan Wangji definitely misses him, and wonders, out loud inside his own head, where Wei Wuxian is. Um, he's in the Burial Mounds, dude, they just told you. Well, I guess he's actually in Yiling proper at this point, haunting Wang Lingjiao as he promised her he would.

Twa Corbies

The scene shifts to Qinghe, where there are about 12 dead bodies lying around, which in this show means that there are really a few hundred. In fact, per Jiang Yanli's statement "nothing can be seen but corpses covering the plains." The camera can't see most of them, is all.

Wen Xu's head is hanging in the doorway, and the Jins talk about how Nie Mingjue killed him, cutting his head off with just one swing. Is this foreshadowing anything, like perhaps someone else's head being cut off by Baxia in just one swing? Nope, definitely not.

A couple of crows are perched on a body, totally not eating it, but Jin Zixuan gallantly zaps them with a talisman to make them fly away anyway. It might be noteworthy that nobody used to use talismans but gradually more and more people are using them - particularly people who have spent time with Wei Wuxian.

With mony a lock of his golden hair-o, we’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o

Asshole cousin Jin Zixun says “scavenger rights,” so Jin Zixuan puts him in charge of collecting all the bodies.

Since OP just finished watching fur-collar-happy Nirvana in Fire, these crows look to me like they are wearing luxurious fur collars. Where OP lives, crows are not this fancy.

A Romantic Corpse-Filled Interlude

Disaster het Jin Zixuan goes to help Jiang Yanli get out of the carriage but she rejects his hand just like he rejected hers back in Gusu.

Jiang Yanli is extremely shocked when she sees Wen Xu's severed head, and turns away in horror, preferring to calmly rest her eyes on dozens of crow-pecked corpses.

Jin Zixuan tries to comfort her and she tells him she'll be going now, thanks for the hospitality. He tries to say that he has to personally deliver her to a representative of the patriarchy one of her brothers, but then one of her brothers shows up.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng arrive, having presumably flown there from Qishan. They show that they are flying by blowing a fan on the ground and then jumping off of a box, which is better than the effects we were subjected to earlier in the episode.

Jiang Cheng rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Jiang Yanli, while Lan Wangji rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Wen Xu’s severed head. Jin Zixuan kind of spoils it for him by talking about Wei Wuxian's absence while Lan Wangji is trying to have a moment.

The whole time Jin Zixuan is talking to him, Lan Wangji appears to be gazing into the middle distance but in fact he is staring at Wen Xu's severed head. This is the guy who led the burning of Cloud Recesses, killed a bunch of disciples, and personally broke Lan Wangji's leg. Lan Wangji stares at his head for more than a full minute before glancing away.

Jiang Yanli hasn't seen Jiang Cheng since they were in Wen Qing's clinic, and she is happy he's recovered. When she asks about Wei Wuxian he gives her the bad news in the classic Jiang fashion, which is to say nothing, but look stricken until your interlocutor figures out that something is horribly wrong, but not precisely what.

Four Angry Men

Inside the fortress, Nie Mingjue is slapping the table and saying, this bad boy can hold so much resentment and vengeance. They're having a mini war council and we're getting a better sense of Nie Mingjue's anger management problem. Note for those who don't get the gif reference: this is a The Godfather joke, not a sex joke, but it can be both, if you like.

We're also getting a little more info about Baxia, who seems to be eager to go fight even without anyone wielding it. (Her? Him? Them? do swords have gender? I don't know). Well done, person below the camera frame whose job is to rattle Baxia in a menacing manner.

They've got a giant model of the battle targets, which looks like it was carved out of real rock (I mean, as much as any of the rocks on this show look like real rocks) and has its own table and everything, decorated in Nie colors. Where was this before they took Qinghe back? Has Nie Mingjue been traveling with it?

Anyway, I'm assuming Nie Huaisang made it, because it's pretty nice. Hopefully they will keep it around for tabletop gaming after the war is over.

Jiang Cheng is upset but is using his anger management mantra to help control his temper while Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji talk with Nie Mingjue.

Lan Wangji talks by leaning forward meaningfully, mostly not by using any words, but he asks for a battle assignment and Jiang Cheng immediately joins in. They both want to go find Wei Wuxian.

Nie Mingjue says Yiling is too difficult of a target, but Lan Wangji puts on his determined face, which is apparently very persuasive.

After Team Find Wei Wuxian leaves, Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan to hang back so he can ask him how Meng Yao is doing. This is the first time he finds out that his ex didn't go to Lanling. Jin Zixuan tries to delicately remind him that Dad's got, like, SO many bastard children, they really don't have space for all of them. Nie Mingjue dismisses him immediately and abruptly.

Nie Mingjue might invite the straights to his party but he isn't interested in actually socializing with them.

Unconditional Soup is Only for A-Xian

Jiang Cheng can't sleep, and takes some time, now, to be sad about Wei Wuxian. Presumably he spent the prior 3 months being mad, not sad, because he really thought he just buggered off without saying anything for all that time. Which is sort of fair, but sort of not. One thing about these two bros is that for as close as they have been and as much as they love each other, their mutual understanding has some big, messy gaps.

Fortunately while he is feeling sad, Jiang Cheng does not try to draw Subian from its sheath, because wouldn't THAT be awkward.

Jiang Yanli can't sleep either, and comes to sit with him. Jiang Cheng feels bad that she's wearing herself out with worry and she says "As your sister, I have nothing to do but to worry about you." Jiang Yanli isn't one to complain but she doesn't like being inactive or helpless. In Lanling she was far from the war, but now that she's in Qinghe she'll make herself useful by tending the wounded, and later she'll help Jiang Cheng shoulder his responsibilities as he takes over the Jiang clan.

At the moment, however, all she can do is fret and make soup. As she gives Jiang Cheng a bowlful she reminds him that he absolutely has to rescue their brother who has, according to his captors, been reduced to bone dust.

With all the impossible shit that Jiang Cheng is expected to achieve - and in many instances, does achieve - he is absolutely the embodiment of the Jiang Clan's motto. Fuck his father for disrespecting him because he hadn't figured out how to do everything by the age of 16.

Definitely Not Chilling in Yiling

Back in Yiling, Wen Chao is hearing the news that the Qishan Indoctrination Bureau has fallen and that he's being called back to Nightless City. Wen Chao says he shouldn't need to go back because his dad has a new right-hand man. That new right-hand man, we will eventually learn, is Meng Yao. Wang Lingjiao, meanwhile, is hiding under the bed covers and deciding it's time to dump Wen Chao.

She locks the door and goes to pull out her jewelry box, which is locked and hidden under the bed. Maybe this is Wen Chao's jewelry box, because she acts kind of squirrely about opening it. Upon opening the jewelry box, she doesn't find jewelry but a pair of bloody fake eyeballs staring at her. She screams and freaks out and then the wind picks up and we hear the sound of a flute, playing the "I'm here to fuck your shit up" tune that Wei Wuxian likes.

Wang Lingjiao runs to the door and pulls down the protection talisman that's pasted above it, and pastes it directly to her chest instead, which is, we will learn in the next episode, the worst idea she could possibly have at this point.

Then she uses a poking stick to go flip the jewelry box open and finds it's full of ugly-ass jewelry again, plus an improbable number of weird round paper-mache biscuits that have been painted gold. None of this jewelry looks anything like the exquisite accessories people wear in this show, which means this stash was put together by the practical effects department, not by the costume department.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao apparently thinks she can sell this fakeass stuff for a good price, so more power to her. But then we get a short glimpse of the menacing eyeballs again, this time on the floor, having moved out of the box and brought their little blood pool with them. Screeching ensues.

Next episode: Lady in Red!

Soundtrack: Twa Corbies, by Steeleye Span

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #jiang cheng #wang lingjiao #jin zixuan

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 2

Hey hi hello! This Is the last part for the day, I felt bad since the first one was so short and uneventful.

This one was funny to write, I liked writing Monokuma and Monomi's 'fight' scene xD

Characters In this part: Lee!Gundham, Lee!Kazuichi, Lee!Nagito, Ler!Nekomaru, Ler!Chiaki, Hajime, Fuyuhiko, Mahiru, Sonia, Hiyoko, Akane, Mikan, Peko

Words: 3,083

PT 1: [Click here], PT 2: [You are here.]

“KAZUICHI, I AM GOING TO DESTROY YOU!” Gundham yelled after his friend, chasing him down the beach in a full on sprint. The chase didn’t last very long though before Nekomaru quickly got In the middle of the two and held the breeder back.

“Easy Tanaka!” He barked. “What the hell Is going on?!”

“Yeah, Why are you so worked up? You guys sparrin’?” Akane asked..

“He’s trying to kill me!” Soda accused, pointing his finger at the angry boy in front of him.

“This fiend used some kind of powerful unseen force to send me flying into the water!” Gundham responded angrily. “You are lucky my Devas were not with me!”

Now that he mentioned It, Nekomaru did notice that Gundham was soaking wet.

“Easy dude! I was just playing around, I saw Sonia had your scarf and your zhu zhu pets!” Kazuichi retorted.

“THEY ARE NOT ZHU ZHU PETS!”

Nekomaru sighed in exasperation, why can’t It ever be something… normal with these two? “Y’know what, fine.” The larger student pushed both of them to the ground and proceeded to pin them both and tickle them. “If you’re gonna fight with each other… Then you’re gonna laugh with each other!”

Kazuichi shrieked as he felt his ribs being attacked, he cursed himself for not changing out of his swim attire back into his jumpsuit before launching Gundham into the water.

“NEHEHEHEKO NOHOHOHOHO!”

Gundham wasn’t much better off, Nekomaru was mercilessly tickling his exposed neck and collarbone. “FUAHAHAHAHAHA! F-FIEHEHEHEHEND STAHAHAHAP IHIHIT AT OHOHONCE!” He tried bringing his shoulders up to protect his neck but as soon as he would, Nekomaru would then attack his belly and hip, making his arms instinctively shoot back down to protect his body.

“Not until you two agree to stop fighting.”

“NOHOHOHO WAHAHAHAY! HEHEHE’S THE ONE WHO TRIHIHIHIED TO KILL ME!” Kazuichi cackled, flailing uselessly.

The Ultimate Team manager narrowed his eyes at the pinkette, he leaned down and blew a raspberry against his belly whilst vibrating his fingers into his ribcage.

Kazuichi exploded with screaming high pitched laughter, throwing his head back in the sand as he frantically shoved at Neko’s head and kicked at the sand.

He pulled back grinning then turned to Gundham, whose belly he was still tickling with his other hand. “Don’t think I forgot about you!” He teased, leaning down and blowing a raspberry against his neck.

Gundham burst into loud laughter, rivaling Kazuichi in volume. He tried to push Nekomaru away but this only seemed to encourage him, his other hand left Kazuichi giving him a chance to breathe and instead began poking at Gundham’s ribs and underarm teasingly.

He delivered another deadly raspberry to his sensitive neck, this time drawing a loud squeal followed by booming belly laughs. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“Do you agree to stop fighting with Kazuichi?” Nekomaru asked, after a moment of no response he gifted him yet another raspberry.

“EEEAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUAHAHAHAHAHA!” Tears were in the Supreme Overlord’s eyes from laughing so hard already.

“I’ll ask again, Are you gonna stop fighting?” He repeated, speeding up his tickles.

This time he was met with frantic nods. Nekomaru stopped tickling Gundham and turned back to Kazuichi. “Now, Will you stop fighting with Gundham?”

“As long as he doesn’t fight with me…” Kazuichi said nervously, sitting up.

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, If he does, He knows what will happen to him!” Nekomaru laughed in amusement.

Gundham shakily sat up. “D-Do you also… vow… not to… push me Into anymore… water?” He panted.

“I dunno man, That’s kind of a hard one. The look on your face was hilarious!” Kazuichi grinned.

Nekomaru glanced at Gundham, upon seeing the somewhat downcast expression on his face he grabbed Kazuichi and held him down.

“ACK! Hey hey hey! What are you doing?!” He panicked.

“Promise you won’t throw him In anymore water.” He ordered.

“Okayokay! Jeez! I promise I won’t throw him In the water again!”

“And apologize to him.”

“What?!”

“You hurt his feelings, apologize for pushing him in the water.”

“No way! He didn’t apologize to me for chasing me!” Kazuichi fired back.

Nekomaru sighed. These damn kids never learn do they? “Gundham, C’mere.”

Gundham shuffled closer, looking questioningly at the larger student. “Yes?”

“There’s something I want you to do.” Nekomaru replied.

“What Is It, Fiend?”

“Hey, I don’t like where this is going…” Kazuichi squinted at Nekomaru, suspicious.

“Tickle him without mercy until he says he’s sorry.” The muscular student grinned at the horrified shriek that came from Kazuichi.

The Mechanic began frantically squirming, though he wasn’t able to move very much thanks to Nekomaru being freakishly strong. “Nononononono!” He didn’t much care for the dark look in Gundham’s eyes, nor the evil smile that followed.

Meanwhile further down the beach, the rest of the students were just chilling and enjoying the day. Or trying their best to.

“Are you sure we should not go check on Kazuichi and Gundham?” Sonia asked.

“Nah, I’m sure they’re fine.” Chiaki replied, building a sandcastle version of Princess Peach’s castle.

“Or one of them has finally killed the other and we’re going to have our first trial.” Hiyoko smirked. “I’m betting on Kazuichi being the dead person.”

Sonia looked horrified.

“Hiyoko!” Chiaki and Hajime chastised.

Mahiru approached the mischievous girl. “Okay, That’s a timeout.”

“What? But I--”

“Go sit on the steps!” she pointed to the steps leading to the beach, Hiyoko pouted and complied silently, crossing her arms as she sat down.

“Listen, I’m sure those two dumbasses are fine, Hiyoko’s just a bitch.” Hiko tried to reassure the blonde, Hajime tried not to laugh at that, but a chuckle slipped out. Mahiru wasn’t as amused.

“Hiko!”

“Where’s the lie?” Hajime whispered under his breath.

“Both of you get a timeout too.” Chiaki said as she stood up, she pointed to a second set of stairs. “Go sit until you can be nice.”

“Why? It’s--”

“I’m not going in fucking timeou--”

Chiaki squeezed Hajime’s side and poked at Fuyuhiko’s ribs, making them both immediately shut up. “Steps.”

They both complied, muttering under their breath as they sat down on the steps next to each other.

“You guys worried about Kazuichi and Gundham?” Akane asked, coming from the direction of said two students. “‘Cause they’re fine, Coach Nekomaru Is helpin’ them.”

Sonia let out a sigh of relief, her hand resting over her heart. “That Is good to hear, Gundham was quite mad when--”

She was cut off by a blood curdling scream that sounded vaguely like Kazuichi coming from the other side of the beach, followed by laughter. Sonia giggled. “I think I will go check on them anyway.” She said as she stood and walked off.

“Nekomaru Is wrecking them, Isn’t he?” Nagito asked amusedly.

“Oh totally.” Akane grinned. “I kinda forgot how vicious of a tickler he is, kind of makes me wanna challenge him to a tickle fight.”

“I think you’d lose.” Mahiru smiled in exasperation.

“For some reason, I get the impression that’s what she wants.” Hajime chuckled.

“Goodness! Whatever was that horrible scream?” Usami asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere.

“Oh hey Usami.” Chiaki greeted the pink and white rabbit with a small smile. “It was the sound of Kazuichi getting tickled.”

Usami let out a small sigh of relief, then giggled. “Oh, That’s a relief. I am glad It was the sound of friendship, I thought for a moment that Monokuma had reappeared.”

“You rang?” Monokuma asked, suddenly next to her.

“Uwaaah! Where did you come from!?” Usami cried out in surprise.

“We could ask you the same thing…” Hajime said quietly.

“Wha? Has no one ever explained the bears and the bees to you?” Monokuma asked, tilting his head. “Alright I guess. Well, when two bears love each other very much--”

“Nooo! That is too mature for this audience!” Usami protested, putting her little hands on Monokuma to stop him.

“She does realize we’re not kids… Right?” Nagito whispered to Chiaki.

“For some reason, I don’t think she’s talking about us…” She whispered back.

Monokuma growled, his red eye flashing briefly before he shifted and threw all of his weight into his shoulder, promptly sending Usami flying from the force. “Keep your dirty pure hands to yourself, Monomi!”

“Uwaahh! It really hurts when you shoulder tackle me!” she cried, hitting the ground next to Chiaki.

“Anyways! I have an announcement for you Goody goody losers!” Monokuma said loudly as Nekomaru, Gundham, Kazuichi and Sonia all rejoined the group.

“Oh great, I get back just In time to listen to the homicidal tanuki.” Kazuichi frowned.

“For the last time, I am not a tanuki!” Monokuma snapped, raising his hand to threateningly show off his claws.

“He Is right, Children! Monokuma Is a bear, and--” Usami was cut off by Monokuma stomping over to kick her In the head.

“I don’t need your help!”

“Oogh! It hurts when you punt me too!” she sobbed, curling up in the sand. Chiaki got down on the ground next to her to comfort her.

Monokuma cleared his throat. “Now that Monomi Is done interrupting me, I have an announcement. As you know, I am the headmaster of Hope’s peak. That school, just like this island, Is currently full of students!”

“What?! There’s more than just us trapped by you?!” Kazuichi asked, shocked.

“Why are you telling us this?” Peko asked, crossing her arms.

“I’m glad you asked!” Monokuma bellowed. “Because, I think my students are starting to get depressed… So I think they might benefit from a change In scenery!”

“You don’t mean…” Hajime trailed off, nervous as to where this was going.

“Are you going to let those students out of the school??” Usami asked, surprised.

“Yup! Only for a while though, I wouldn’t want you all conspiring against me once you get acquainted with each other! I just hope those cold blooded killers can behave themselves for a few minutes...” Monokuma replied. “Puhuhu, Oops, did I say that out loud?”

“Acquainted with each other…?” Mahiru repeated. “You mean you’re…”

“You’re going to let them loose, Here!?” Kazuichi finished for her.

“You guessed It! Sharkboy Is today’s winner! Tell him what he’s won, Monomi!”

“W-What? What are you talking about n--”

Monokuma jumped into the air and elbow dropped the rabbit. “Nevermind! My joke Is ruined now, you’re so useless!”

“Uwah! It hurts when you elbow drop me!”

Hajime sighed at the scene before him. Is anything ever normal with these two?

After that, Monokuma left saying he had other business to attend to, After Usami had calmed down from getting a third strike from Monokuma she stood up and dusted herself off.

“What was he talking about? There aren’t really other students… Are there?” Mahiru asked apprehensively.

“No way, He’s clearly lying to us!” Kazuichi answered.

“There’s one way to find out…” Chiaki mumbled, looking at Usami. “Usami?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Was he telling the truth? Are there really more like us?” The pink haired girl asked softly.

Usami nervously looked away, stammering as she spoke. “W-Well, I don’t… i’m not…”

Chiaki frowned. “So It’s true. Is what he said about them true too?”

“N-No! I don’t… Think so…” Usami sighed softly, sitting on a beach towel. “Yes there Is more like you. I didn’t want to leave them, Please believe me! But I didn’t have time to grab any more of you before Monokuma showed up again.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before?!” Hajime snapped.

“Uwah!” Usami jumped In surprise, her ears drooping sadly. “I-I couldn’t! I felt too guilty and horrible for having to leave them behind! I can only imagine the horrors they’ve had to endure because of Monokuma.”

Chiaki gently petted the rabbit’s head. “It’s okay, It’s not your fault. It’s Monokuma’s fault.”

Usami sniffled, her ears perking back up. “Th-Thank you.” she cried. “But, I am at fault too. I should have fought him at that point, But I was scared and worried about what would happen to you all if I were to lose… I guess In the end It didn’t matter anyway.”

“So just to confirm, there’s a whole other group of students about to be released onto the island and we have no idea if they’re participating in the killing game or not...?” Mahiru asked quietly, fear prominent in her eyes.

Hiyoko got up and went over to her girlfriend, wrapping her arms around her to comfort her. “It’s okay, Mahiru! I won’t let them hurt you!”

Mahiru blushed. “I-I wasn’t scared!”

“I am afraid so.” Usami confirmed grimly, though the next moment… “However! This could be a very good thing too, Perhaps they are like you and refuse to play his game!” She suggested brightly.

Hajime felt a pit In his stomach, It took him a while to warm up to and trust the students trapped with him... he was definitely nervous and untrusting of this.

“Usami Is right!” Nagito spoke up. “We have to stay *Hopeful!”

Oh here we go…

“They are Hope’s peak academy students, after all! I’m sure they’re as reserved and strong willed as all of you Ultimate’s!” Nagito smiled, getting that look In his eyes again.

“Nagito…” Hajime said warningly, not wanting to listen to his speech again. “Remember what happened last time you droned on about Hope and Ultimates?”

“Oh, Right! Sorry, I guess even trash can be forgetful too, I’ll try to stop.” He smiled sympathetically at the Tsundere student.

“Stop calling yourself trash.” Chiaki frowned.

“But…” He stopped himself as Hajime and Chiaki both folded their arms and glared at him warningly. “O-Okay… Even though I am…--”

“Say It, and you’ll be sorry.” Chiaki puffed her cheeks in annoyance.

Nagito blinked, weighing his options. “Why are you so upset about me calling myself trash? I am trash. Do you get mad at everyone for speaking the truth?”

Unfortunately as he usually does, He chose incorrectly. Chiaki threw herself at the taller student, knocking him over into the sand. She then began squeezing his sides in rapid succession, avoiding his attempts to dislodge her hands quite easily.

“W-Wahahahahait! Chihihiaki!” Nagito squealed, trying to protect his sensitive sides from her merciless wrath.

“I warned you.” She deadpanned.

“Usami, Do you think we should be worried about these students?” Nekomaru asked over Nagito’s laughter.

“I don’t think so, I think we should welcome them with open arms! Who knows what horrors they’ve seen? We should treat them with kindness and love!” She answered.

“Then that’s good enough for me!” Neko grinned.

“Yes, I think It will be nice to make some new friends!” Sonia beamed, her eyes glittering happily.

“And who knows? Maybe there’ll be some cute girls In the class…” Teruteru said slyly.

“If you make any unsavory advancements towards the new mortals, I will put a curse so vile on you that even your future spawn will be cursed!” Gundham threatened, making Teruteru immediately shut up and shrink back with fear.

“I guess It doesn’t hurt to have some new friends…” Kazuichi reluctantly agreed with Sonia, no one was surprised.

“Ibuki thinks It’s a great idea! Maybe Ibuki will meet a musician to rock out with!” Ibuki’s eyes became starry at the prospect.

“Hey guys…?” Hajime spoke up hesitantly.

“Maybe there’ll be a gamer I can play with…” Chiaki smiled, still mercilessly tickling Nagito. “Or y’know… A therapist for Nagito…”

“Whyhyhy would a-ahahaha therapist wahahahaste their tihihime on sohohomeone lihihike mehehe?” Nagito laughed.

Chiaki narrowed her eyes at the Lucky student, attacking his belly with clawed hands. “You’re just asking for It, Aren’t you? Do you enjoy being tickled, Nagi?”

“NOHOHOHO!” he squealed, trying to curl In on himself.

“M-Maybe I-It won’t be s-so bad.” Mikan said hopefully. “I’m sure they a-are nice!”

Mahiru glared at Hiyoko, sensing she was about to say something unpleasant, The blonde girl immediately shut her mouth and snuggled more into Mahiru.

“Perhaps there will be someone who is knowledgeable with swords…” Wow, even Peko seemed enthusiastic about this-- well, as enthusiastic as Peko can be.

“Ooh! Maybe there’s someone strong I can fight with!” Akane’s face lit up excitedly.

“Guys? Aren’t you the least bit worried? What If they’re just like Monokuma said…?” Hajime asked.

“What’s to be worried about? If they step outta line, We can just beat ‘em up.” Akane grinned.

“We are NOT going to beat them up!” Nekomaru argued. “There are other ways of dealing with violent students than fighting!”

Akane put her hands on her hips and looked questioningly at Neko. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Nekomaru glanced at Kazuichi and Gundham, who both seemed to blush at his gaze. “Things…” was his vague answer.

“I’m with Hajime on this one.” Fuyuhiko spoke up, standing up. “The thought of people we can’t trust coming on to the island makes me… kind of nervous.” he admitted.

Mahiru nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I agree too.”

“I’m kind of indifferent.” Hiyoko shrugged. “Maybe they won’t be as lame as you guys… but on the other hand, I don’t want Mahiru to be afraid.”

“I-I told you I’m not afraid!” The tsundere girl stuttered.

“It’ll be okay, guys.” Chiaki said softly, her tone contradicting her ruthless tickling. “As long as we stick together, We’ll be fine.”

“YEHEHEHEAH! WHAHAT SHE SAHAHAHAID!” Nagito cackled as she squeezed his hips. “YOUHUHU GUYS ARE ULTIMAHAHATES, THERE’S NOHOHOHOTHING YOU CAHAHAN’T HANDLE!”

“You’re an Ultimate too.” Chiaki reminded, pausing her ticklish attack. “And you’re valuable. Not trash.”

Nagito giggled tiredly as he caught his breath. “But compared to you guys… I’m not all that special…”

“Neko, He still hasn’t learned.” Chiaki called over her shoulder. Nekomaru sat down next to them and cracked his knuckles.

“I got this!” He chuckled, The next moment the air was filled with Nagito’s shrieking laughter as Chiaki and Neko proceeded to destroy the man with low self esteem.

Hajime was silent as he thought about the possibilities, It just wasn’t sitting right with him. But If Chiaki could look on the bright side… Maybe he was overreacting…?

He felt a hand rest on his back, looking to his left he saw Fuyu offer a brief reassuring smile, showing that he was just as nervous as Hajime but more worried about comforting him. Hajime faintly smiled back and put his arm around Fuyu’s shoulders, pulling the Yakuza into his side.

Mahiru gently punched Hajime’s shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be okay… We just gotta stick together like Chiaki said…”

Hajime sincerely hoped she was right about this…

#Danganronpa tickle #sdr2 tickle #goodbye despair tickle #tickle story #Lee!Gundham #Lee!Kazuichi #Lee!Nagito #Ler!Nekomaru #Ler!Chiaki #chiaki is still a scary ler #but Neko is ruthless--#okay but Fuyuhiko and Hajime and Mahiru being bros at the end #they're so pure #Yes this Is going to have Kuzuhina In It bc I can't stop myself--#oh well #Chiaki Is the friend who tells you she's gonna slap you if you don't stop being so hard on yourself #except she tickles instead of slaps #I totally made a victorious reference with the timeout bit--#i'm not sorry

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