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kimetsu-chan · 10 days

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~can’t sleep headcanons~

A/N: I’ve been sleeping crappy the past three nights and tn I extra doubly can’t sleep, so ofc I’m writing this at 4 am 🤩 (I apologize in advance for any mistakes made—)

Characters: Akutagawa, Fyodor, Dazai, Ranpo

TWs ⚠️ reader cries, bc I cried(Fyodor, Dazai), Nicknames (Myshka)(Fyodor) (Belladonna, Donna)(Dazai), GN!Reader

Man, being tired is rough—

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

Akutagawa most likely wouldn’t notice right away

whether that be because he is asleep, out of the house, or just busy in general

but he would come home one day to you laying face down on your shared bed, spread out like a star fish

he’d raise an eyebrow at you before checking if you were awake

once he confirmed that you were, he would question why you were up so late

and in your tired state, you would unintentionally retort back with unusual hostility in your tone

“[Name], why is it that you are awake at two in the morning.”

“Why are you just coming home from work at two in the morning.”

His mouth would instantly shut, not used to your annoyance

you would almost immediately apologize with a distraught expression on your face and he would immediately understand

seeing the reason for your stress, he quickly dismissed your earlier words

he would be quick in showering himself before slipping into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you

he didn’t really like physically affection often, he had a tough guy facade to hold up. But he guessed he could make an exception for you

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This man doesn’t sleep much either, so he doesn’t bother scolding you for it

he is likely the only one to actually be helpful about it

he would be working away at his desk in your guys’ room, and he would hear the rustling of sheets behind him

he would turn in his chair to look back at you with a blank expression

Fyodor had heard your struggles to sleep during previous nights, but tonight, you finally seemed to have had enough

he got up when he heard you angrily adjust your pillow, and made his way to the bedside before crouching down beside you

he saw the angry expression you bore on your face and blew on your face to wake you up

your teary eyes opened to glare at him and he realized just how frustrated you were

he reached out to wipe those tears before they could fall as he spoke in a quiet voice

”Now, now, Myshka, what’s with the tears?”

“‘m s’tired… but I can’t sleep no matter how hard I try-!”

Fyodor would hum in understanding, you were just exhausted

he stood back up all the way and figured he had some time to spare

he pulled you up and made his way to the kitchen with you tiredly clinging to his arm

”Let’s have a glass of milk, that should help.”

Dazai Osamu

He’s probably dead asleep beside you, and therefore won’t be of much help

there is also a good chance that he is the reason for your lack of sleep

this man will be sprawled all over you. And I mean all over you

he would have one leg thrown over yours, he would have his arm(s) wrapped around you in some way

he just has to be touching you

he also moves around a lot

which you normally don’t mind, but adding that to already not being able to sleep, geez you were frustrated

dont get me wrong, he is perfectly capable of being still and to himself in his sleep

he just doesn’t want to-

he can’t help wanting to be in constant contact with his precious Belladonna all night

but when you nudge him awake with tears ready to fall from your eyes, he instantly throws his wants out the window

he’d frown and wipe your tears away before asking what was wrong

“Oh ‘Donna— why are you crying?”

“I can’t- sleep, and you’re movin’ around s’much and it’s not helping..”

You didn’t mean to make it sound like it was his fault (even though it kinda was-)

but I’m your exhausted state, you couldn’t control it

instantly filled him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead

“I’m sorry ‘Donna… I’ll be still, I promise”

Ranpo Edogawa

Just like Dazai, he is likely the reason you cannot sleep in the first place

I headcanon that he is also a super restless sleeper in the sense that he moves a whole bunch

and maybe even kicks

so imagine you’re tired, and almost falling off the bed because he is taking all the space

deciding that you had enough, you grabbed your pillow and a spare blanket and trudged over towards the couch before plopping your tired self right down on it

you closed your eyes with a huff when you tucked yourself in, and began to drift off when you felt a weight on you

you opened your eyes to see Ranpo looking down at you

there was concern in his eyes, despite the unserious-ness of his statement

”[Name]? Why’d you leave? The world’s best detective needs his cuddle buddy.”

You quickly explained the reason of his absence and he nodded

you waited for a few seconds for him to leave, but he just stayed on top of you and made himself comfortable

“I guess I’ll just sleep on top of you then!”

His weight was actually kinda nice, and he was making an effort to be as still as possible

you eventually were pulled to sleep with the sound of your lover’s soft breathing in your ears

A/N: these were fun to write 🥰

but they took an hour—

n e ways

it is now almost five in the morning so I might as well just be up for the rest of the day 😃

Reblogs with tags are appreciated!

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xythlia · 8 months

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Surprising mammon for his birthday with some absolutely sinful gold lingerie. You spend the night worshipping him, showing your devotion and greediness for him, taking your sweet time with his sensitive body

𓏲 ࣪₊ hbd to our mans hes getting smacked between us all like a volleyball holding on for dear life <3

› cw : f!reader, lingerie, body worship, praise, nipple play, hickies, handjob, petnames (baby, honey), anal fingering, ball fondling

Your skin prickled with anticipation and heat, not even the cool air inside the bedroom worked to combat the fever stoked by arousal. The chain clasped around your neck, draping down your chest in interlocked mesh did little to ground you.

It was extravagant, something he rarely got to indulge in anymore but tonight was a treat; what could be more fitting for the Avatar of Greeds birthday than his beloved in trappings of gold just for him to unravel? You bit your lip, hands roaming your skin feeling far too needy for his touch.

But patience comes first, he went out with Asmodeus to do some shopping which means he'll be doubly surprised when he opens the door. Fortunately you don't have to wait much longer, hearing his telltale footsteps coming up the hallway as you rise to sit perched on your legs folded beneath you. It felt like that earlier desire was now a string fully pulled taught by ghostly fingers.

With a grin that nearly hurts your cheeks you watch as it takes his brain several moments to catch up to what his eyes see, mouth slightly agape as he takes you in. In a rush he fumbles with the door, dropping shopping bags at his feet.

"What are ya-"

"Happy birthday!" You tip your head back to laugh, purposely showing off your gold dripped breasts.

As your giggle tapers off you rise to your feet, padding over to him to take his hands in yours, noticing how hot his skin feels.

"Ya wearing that just for me?" You don't miss how his voice cracks on the last syllable. Stopping just before the bed you gently place your hands on his chest, humming in affirmation as they run down over the soft material of his shirt stopping to slip your fingertips beneath the hem and reveling in the way his breathing hitches at the contact.

"Mhm," you place a kiss to the side of his throat, "just for you...". The air is balmy as his hands hesitantly rest at your sides, as if for a split second he wonders if he's dreaming.

Encouragingly you drag his shirt up over his stomach, dragging your lips up his throat, over his jaw, before finding purchase at his lips in a kiss that devoured all air in your lungs. As he backed you up the rest of the way, until you felt the edge of the mattress hit the back of your knees, you pulled back to slow him. With a soft tch you help him pull his shirt off then toy with the waistband of his jeans before he eagerly slid them off as well.

"Thought ya said it was mine to unwrap?" He asked. Gingerly you palm his erection through his boxers, eyes half lidded as you guide him to lay on his back letting you straddle his hips. The sharp intake of breath as you slide your pussy, barely covered in a thin scrap of satin, against him makes you nearly moan.

He looks so gorgeous beneath you, hair tousled and skin already gleaming with sweat in the low light.

"It is, but what kind of birthday would it be if I didn't give you something extra special, hm?" You murmur as your fingers curl around the band of his boxers, enjoying the slight whine that slips past his lips.

His eyes are glued to you, rapt with want as you wiggle your hips again, friction working like pieces of flint to spark embers in your tummy and make your clit throb. Again you tell yourself to be patient, bending down to nip at his jawline before daring to swipe your tongue along his neck, sucking and grazing the flesh with your teeth to create vivid purple bloom across his clavicle.

Teasingly you roll his nipples between both thumbs and indexes, swallowing his whines as you bring your lips back up to his and his hands knead against your ass. In jerky motions his hips buck against you, desperate for that earlier friction as you pinch and lightly tug at his nipples.

It's easy to tell he's getting impatient, needy and you answer his breathy moans by slipping his boxers down. In a flash he's gotten the idea already, raising his hips to help you slide them off as his cock springs out of its confines to lightly hit against his abdomen. The swollen red tip makes you nearly start drooling, tongue sliding across your bottom lip with the faint remembrance of salty, thick cum coating it.

But that's not what you have in mind tonight, it just wouldn't be enough to show him how deep your affection for him runs. Softly you wrap one hand around his shaft, slight, slow pumps as he throws his head back against the pillows with a moan so deep you can feel how wet its got you.

"Feel good, baby?" You purr, keeping the pace languid to feel him throb in your hand. Instantly a deep flush spreads across his cheeks, one hand clawing at your thigh as the other lays against the top of his head.

"Everything ya do feels good," he grunts out the last part, already breathing heavy as your thumb smears precum across his tip.

"You know you're everything I ever wanted?" Your other hand reaches between both your legs to fondle his balls, a sweet spot you found early on in your relationship. Between the ragged breathing and the whiny moans you know he can't answer you, but you didn't really anticipate he would so you continue.

"You're so wonderful, always taking care of me," you bend back down to ghost your lips over his as you finish in a whisper, "let me take care of you baby, yeah?"

You pick up your pace, reaching over as you sit back to grab the lube resting on the bed. It's something he shyly brought up to you one day, something you've been saving for just this occasion. It slides out of the tube cold and sticky, easily enough to do one handed although some drips against the bedspread, forgotten.

Lightly your index circles his hole, gently building up to insertion so as not to cause any pain while your other hand keeps up its steady strokes against his cock. The way his jaw drops open in a silent moan as your first knuckle slides past the ring of muscle is absolutely sinful, searing itself into the back of your eyelids.

"You're doing so good, honey" you coo at him, barely holding it together yourself watching the way hes unraveling as you introduce more of your index. Tactfully you twist your hands around his cock, gliding against the skin as he sloppily pushes his hips up to chase the movement. When he stills for a moment you start sliding the digit in and out in a nice, steady rhythm.

"S'too much-" he chokes out, the hand above his head clenching part of the pillow in a white knuckle grip. "Feels good fuck-"

He cuts himself off in a strangled cry while your hand keeps pumping regardless, feeling the slow throb of his cock as warm cum spurts against his stomach, milking him as you place sweet kisses against his cheek.

Your noses brush as your hands leave him, groping for the hand towel that was also laying somewhere beside you on the bed. As you clean up in loving movements his breathing steadies against and his hands caress your sides, making you giggle.

"I get the rest of this present now, yeah?" He murmurs weakly, making your stomach do summersaults.

"Of course you do, birthday boy."

#this put my ass in a headlock & drug me around ur a genius anon ur idea is DELICIOUS OMG #mammon #mammon smut #mammon drabbles #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon x y/n #mammon x mc #obey me mammon #obey me smut #obey me drabble #obey me swd #om! swd #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me #happy fingers in his ass sunday #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

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luveline · 1 year

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your first 'I love you' with Hotch ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

“You’re tense.”

Hotch doesn’t look up from his desk. He’s reading through a consult, two fingers pressed to his brow. He reminds you of a movie star when he poses like this. You like it, and you doubly enjoy the stirring feeling it prompts in your stomach.

“I’m not tense,” he says, gently and quietly, “just thinking.”

He’s thinking and tense at the same time, then. The big wooden desk in front of him is open real estate for you to climb on top of, propping yourself with legs dangling to his right. He ever so kindly drops his hand on your knee.

You slouch because Hotch doesn’t care about posture. At least, it doesn’t make him like you any less. Occasionally, he’ll press a hand to your lower back and try to straighten you out. But mostly he makes a comment on how your back will hurt worse than his by the time you’re forty and kiss your temple. You take his wrist into two hands and rub at the line where his tendon hides beneath the skin.

“So… are you going home today?” you ask.

“I…” He pulls his head up to yours, hand tracing your thigh surreptitiously slow. “Am going wherever you’re going.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Hotch pats your leg.

You can feel the heat of his palm through your trousers. It doesn't take much more than that to have you droopy eyed as you wait for him to finish his work, his warm touch, the quiet of his office and the subtle scratch of his pen against paper.

He puts everything away into its proper place. He helps you down off of the desk, and he puts his coat on overtop of his suit. Briefcase in hand, Hotch accompanies you down to your desk in one of the far corners of the BAU's offices where you put your own coat on. He beckons you forward to fasten the top button, which you'd missed.

In the elevator, you turn your face to your shoulder and watch him watch the floor number change. He's smiling by the time you get to the bottom floor. Out past the metal detectors and security checkpoint and the huge glass doors, you stroll into the cool night time air and, barely a foot from the entrance, feel Hotch's hand looking for yours.

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asks finally.

"I really get to choose?"

"You should get to choose more often."

Hotch is admittedly much busier than you are. His work is more intrusive, or should you say, expansive, than your own, and he has Jack to prioritise, his family. But that doesn't mean you don't get to choose. You chose his tie this morning via the phone, and what you both ate for dinner — huge too-messy sandwiches over a casefile.

"I'm hungry if you are."

"And if I'm not, you'll magically feel full?" he asks.

He gives your hands a little swing. You could kiss him right here on the sidewalk.

"I'm, like– I could eat, but if you don't wanna stop for something I won't go hungry."

"No, you'll just fill up on oatmeal."

"Oatmeal is a great night time snack," you say. "Especially with the slow-releasing melatonin Dr. Reid was telling me about."

"Are you distracting my colleagues?" he asks knowingly, looking both ways before he pulls you across the street and into the bureau's employee parking lot.

"No. Well, sometimes."

He unlocks his car with the beep of a hob and opens the passenger seat for you. "We can get something to go? We don't have to be out all night."

You climb in, beaming as he kisses your cheek and closes the door behind you.

He drives you down to the Thai restaurant a half a mile away. You call before you get there, so the food's ready waiting for you to pick up. He's in and out, and he says, "Put something down on your lap, honey, it's hot," before he passes it to you.

You smile like a lovesick fool when he hums along to the radio, hand tapping the wheel as he turns into the street of your apartment. You hadn't realised he chose your place.

The music suits him. You aren't sure how it happens. A happy love song in time with your small moment of bliss. You reach across the console and put your hand on his face. He turns into it, softly questioning.

You rub your thumb into the scratching of his five o'clock shadow.

"You're my favourite. I love you," you say. You try to be serious about it but your lips twitch.

Your first 'I love you' maybe should've been saved somewhere safe until the right moment. You've been keeping it wedged between your heart and your ribs, though, and it's too much tonight. The sweet voice of the love song's singer saturates the air with a certain saccharineness, his handsome, beautiful smile, frown lines and won't be ignored.

"I love you, too."

From Hotch, it feels like a promise. You lift your chin and he gives you a light kiss. He keeps smiling and breaking the kiss.

"I wish you would've waited," he says.

You're too happy to feel insecure about it. "What for?"

He reaches for your shoulders, squeezing you and pushing you away to meet your eyes. "Because I had this whole speech planned, you know? I was going to tell you first."

"A speech?"

He looks incredibly happy: he's onto you. He knows you're fishing for the speech and all the pretty compliments he might've doled out.

"If you'd waited," he concedes, "I might have told you how lucky I feel to get to be with you. How I know a second chance when I have it. A second chance at love, and… feeling young. Feeling brand new."

Your smile melds into a smirk. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I might've said something about how beautiful you are, and how funny, and how interesting, but you got there first and now you'll never know the depths of my affection after all."

"That's too bad."

He leans in for another kiss. "Yes," he says against your lips. "Too bad."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 months

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The Arcana HCs: M6 with an oblivious MC

~ In case you're wondering how I understand this situation so well, it's because I share in MC's level of obliviousness :') For headcanon purposes, MC and M6 do not progress past the "friend" stage until the M6 confess - brainrot ~

Julian

Oh goodness, he's never been so genuinely confused in his life. He's absolutely, completely, entirely lost

He knows that he tends to come across a little strong. He knows that he couldn't hide his attractions to people if he tried. He knows that he's a shameless flirt

So HOW on EARTH are you somehow so convinced that he feels nothing more for you than for a friend? Has the sun started rising in the West? Has gravity stopped working?? Is he turning blonde???

Constantly second guessing himself because of it. Maybe this is your way of letting him know that you're not interested

Maybe you find him so completely unattractive that nothing he does can come across as remotely romantic? Is that it???

Everyone who watches this dynamic play out thinks it's the funniest thing they've ever seen (Asra and Mazelinka especially)

The infamously suave Dr Devorak, fumbling and blushing after someone who looks way too innocent to be receiving the comments that he's making

On a more serious note, your obliviousness pushes him to think through his romantic actions, which makes all of his efforts at wooing you much more intentional

Confesses because he doesn't know what else to do and is genuinely surprised when you tell him you feel the same way

So excited once you're together to find out what it's like when you decide to flirt with him. Now that you two are on the same page everything you initiate makes him swoon

Asra

Ouch

The things they've lived through and sacrificed for you were not done with any kind of reward in mind - they genuinely just wanted to give you a second chance

But you're growing stronger every day now, and soon you might be able to handle the truth, and you're somehow so indifferent to him

On the other hand, they're secretly relieved because it means that if they slip up and show you more affection than they intend to you won't notice

Poor Faust tries to step in and help at one point, but she can't use that many words at a time which is useless where you're concerned

Love Master? "Aww, Faust loves you, Asra!" No! Master! Love Friend! "Oh, you meant that you love me, Faust? I love you too!"

Asra watches the whole thing play out in disbelief, hands in his hair, because it's more cuteness than his heart can handle and he wants to be the one you're saying that to so badly it hurts

Eventually assumes that you're playing dumb and confesses to get rid of the elephant in the room, is surprised when you're surprised by it

Doubly shocked and delighted when you say "I love you" right back

They have literal years of pent up emotion to let out and now that all the cards are on the table it's like a dam has burst (be prepared)

He's determined to teach you how to read the signs of seduction so you never run into this situation again

Nadia

Is this some kind of sick joke? Do you not know that she is not the type of woman to be trifled with?

Almost instantly recognizes that you're truly that oblivious, has absolutely no idea how to get her point across any more obviously

Nothing seems to be working. Not the touches, not the praise, not the gifts, nothing. You keep interpreting them as signs of closeness (which, technically, they are) and don't see any of the romance!

Does briefly wonder if this is your version of gentle rejection

Maybe you're hoping that if you accept the relationship without acknowledging the interest then that's all she'll offer you

But no, she's not stupid

She sees the way you look at her, the way you get flustered around her, the way she makes you fumble. She knows there's some level of attraction there, she just has no idea how to tap into it

She finally confesses once she's as sure as she can be that it won't be unwelcome

Relieved but unsurprised when you tell her you like her back

Will grill you relentlessly afterwards on how you missed the signs

The clothes? What did you think she was doing? The bath? What did you think she was doing? The romantically charged praise? What did you think she meant? She loves you so much, now please explain!

Now that she knows that you know, she has a lot of flirting to catch up on

You're about to be a constantly flustered mess for the next few weeks at least

Muriel

So relieved, he's thanking his lucky stars that your insightfulness has a blind spot when it comes to his attraction to you

He likes to do things at his own pace. If you're not aware of and responding to his feelings, that gives him space to process them and decide what to do

That said, how is it possible for someone to be this blind?

Morga has noticed and she keeps looking at both of you with increasing levels of pity, concern, disbelief, and annoyance

Don't get him started on how hard Inanna is laughing

And the worst part is - it's still anxiety inducing, because he's never 100% certain that his next slip-up won't be the thing that clues you in to his emotional state

He's living on pins and needles, and he's even tempted to try doing something actually flirtatious just to see how far your blindness goes

He compliments you one time, and nearly buckles with relief when your response is just "Oh, thank you Muriel."

He's not oblivious the same way you are, though, and he can tell that you're interested in him

It's what gives him the courage to confess. That and Inanna's, Morga's and Khamgalai's constant judgemental looks

Very proud of the shocked and delighted reaction he gets from you

He got so comfortable going unnoticed that now he malfunctions every time you notice him adoring you and take that as an invitation to flirt

Portia

Is this a challenge? She thinks this just might be a challenge

Or at least, it's her cue to not hold back

She's going to flirt with you relentlessly, obviously, in every genre she knows how to, until she finds out what your obliviousness threshold is

For science, of course, and also because she thinks you're hot

Physical touch? She's putting her arm around your waist to steer you through the crowd. Acts of service? Stand back, that's her forte. Affirmation? She can quote pages of compliments

Quality time? Spend the afternoon in her cottage! Gift giving? Here, she snuck so much food out of the Palace kitchen to share

More delighted than disappointed at your blindness, it's more opportunities for mischief and a good story to look back on

Does her best to see how interested you are in her, just in case. She doesn't want to find out that you were actually ignoring her all this time and that her actions made you feel uncomfortable or disrespected

Orchestrates a few heated moments that tell her the flush on your face is out of interest and not embarrassment

Confesses to you because she got tired of waiting and is impatient to start dating already. Unsurprised when you confess back

Very surprised by what it's like to have you respond in kind when she flirts with you

She used to say way more suggestive things to you, this is all it takes to get a kiss??

Lucio

Oh no, he is not used to this kind of neutrality at all

Floating around Vesuvia for three years made it pretty clear to him how the people close to him really felt. It was all fawning and flattery to his face and manipulation and politics behind closed doors

Everybody wants something. Everybody will spring at a chance to exploit. Hell, that's how he's used to functioning himself

But you're just ... helping him? Without expecting anything in return?

One moment, you compliment him, so it must mean you adore him

The next moment, you're confronting him about his mistakes, so that must mean you despise him

And now he's flirting with you because you're hot and it's like everything goes in one ear and out the other!

He's so frustrated but he can't even begin to get mad because oh look at that, you're being kind to him again while he's vulnerable

Multiple private freakouts when you keep missing his signals. Watching you snooze on his shoulder was just the beginning of it

He'll never forget it, marveling at the trust you must have to sit next to your enemy while his sword is drawn, fast asleep and oblivious to the way the first human touch in years is making his heart pound

Finally confesses to you out of desperate honesty. He's going to be a new man now, and he's not going to fake it around you

Borderline panics when you say it back

Get ready, he's been craving more of that physical touch and he intends to indulge

#the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #ask arcana brainrot #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana crack #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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waterfallofspace · 1 year

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A Little Game, A Lot Of Torture.

The one in which G/ojo has been a bit of a (loveable) prick, so his friends decide to hold a little contest to see who can get him back the best. Contest rules? Whoever makes him sneeze the most in one attempt wins, you can’t get his help, you can only use one method. Let the games begin! (Do I have requests I should be working on instead? Yes. Was this idea haunting my every waking hour until I finally agreed to write it? Also yes. I promise I’ll get back to requests tomorrow <;3) Takes a minute to get into heavy snz stuff, but hopefully it's still enjoyable! (credits to @snzdreams for the breathtaking headcanon that even talking about sneezing gets G/ojo going, and I hope it’s okay that I borrowed your genius to use in this <3 and doubly hope it's okay that I tagged you in it <33) Also I want to clarify: while they were all in the same class in highschool, this is set post-graduation, imagining a future where they all still hang out. (AU technically I guess haha~) Just making it clear, everyone in this story is meant to be an adult. Picture early 20’s. Characters: G/eto, S/hoko, and G/ojo. Plus a bit of S/atosugu Word Count: 4.1k (whoops-)

(References to swearing in case anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

The rules were agreed upon the day before, Geto insisting that they needed to be clear.

Rule #1: You only get one attempt. If you fail, or he manages to avoid/subdue the attempt, it’s over. You don’t get a second try. If you get subpar results, same as before, no second tries. Amendment added by Shoko: number of sneezes only counts from the first couple minutes. If said attempt results in sneezing for the rest of the day, those are not to be counted.

Rule #2: Gojo is not to be informed of this, or asked for assistance of any kind. You cannot ask him for a list of what makes him most sneezy, you must use your knowledge of him to come up with your own methodology.

And finally, Rule #3: You can only use one method. Said ‘method’ can include multiple inducing tools, so long as they’re considered one ‘attempt’. Ie. Multiple scented candles at once, or a bouquet of flowers are both considered one method. However, flowers and candles at the same time would be considered two. Amendment added by Geto: Helping him along with words doesn’t count as a method, and is therefore fair play.

With those in place, Geto and Shoko got to work, each with an idea in mind.

In order to not taint results the attempts will be held three days apart to give Gojo’s nose time to get back to baseline before the next attempt begins. Shoko is up first. Let the games begin!

~~ Shoko’s Attempt ~~

‘I’m at a disadvantage. I know Gojo, he’s my friend, they both are, but I’ll never know him the way Geto does. He’ll always know more of Gojo’s quirks, especially since they’re so obviously in love. They both deny it, but the looks they share when they think no one can see tells a different story. If not dating, the feeling is at least mutual.’

Shoko pauses her musing, letting a smile take over as she waves to the boys, starting her approach with a hand in her bag. ‘Always together, even when I’m not around. I know they care for me, but the bond they share will always be one step deeper.’ Despite this, she has a plan. Earlier she wrote out a list of what she remembers Gojo showing reactions to in the past, eliminating anything less than a full attack.

‘He’s quite sensitive, it doesn’t take much to set him off, but getting an actual fit from him is a touch more rare. Normally he has quite the exaggerated buildups, long and hitchy, which he makes a lot of noise about, but the actual sneezing is minimal. At least, compared to the results I’m looking for. No, I need something more than a simple sensitivity. If it was Geto I’d blow smoke in his face, but that’d only prompt a minor reaction out of Gojo.’

“Hiya Shoko, take a seat! Geto here was just sharing the mochi he bought!”

“I bought it for myself, you just stole half when my back was turned.”

“Come on, we both know if you put something sweet in front of me I’m gonna eat it.”

Shoko seats herself next to Gojo, sharing a glance with Geto when he’s distracted by the sweets once more. A darker tone dips into Gojo’s voice as he lets his sunglasses fall so Geto can see his eyes, a mischievous haze clouding them.

“You knew the risks, now you pay the price.”

“The price being my mochi?”

“Exactly! Now you’re catching on~.”

With that, Gojo grabs another one, laughter bubbling out as Geto attempts, and fails, to smack his hand away. However, before he can pop it in his mouth, he freezes, hand inches from his face. His breath catches, nose twitching. Shoko finds Geto’s eyes darting over to her, and she offers a slight shake of the head. ‘Nope, not my attempt, this is all him.’ Geto starts to speak, eyes flickering back over to Gojo.

“You alri-”

“heHh-! hah’adJSHhh’iew-! hep’gshh’iew-!”

“Blessings.”

“Guhhh- thank you.”

Shoko takes her turn to speak, eager to ascertain any possible advantages. ‘If he’s sick his nose will be extra sensitive, and I may be able to cinch this win. Especially given Geto needing to wait three days, ideally the window of sensitivity will have passed.’

“Feeling okay?”

“Indeed. This is just the price I must pay for being so talented- huEH’djZShh’uu-! I can't be perfect in every aspect, that would just be unfair!”

“Come again?”

Geto rolls his eyes, gesturing to the sky as he turns his gaze back to Shoko once more. Gojo meanwhile wipes a few tears from his cheeks, groaning lightly at the quickly increasing watery nature of his eyes.

“He’s just allergic to the sun.”

“I am not allergic- I’m just a tad sensitive to bright lights. Christ this is annoying.”

“Was the mochi really worth it?”

“Suguru Geto, don’t you talk like that! Mochi is always worth it!”

The eagerness has quickly faded out, Shoko letting an airy sigh press out between her pursed lips. ‘Right, I did know about this. I believe it’s called a photic sneeze response? He’s had it for as long as I’ve known him, though I believe he said it’s gotten worse the more he wears those glasses. Blocking out the light so much of the time only adds to his sensitivity when it inevitably breaks through. However, it causes very few sneezes, he said the main issue is his eyes watering.’

“If you touch the last piece I’m making you buy me a new one.”

“Aw- that’s not faiiiir!”

“Boys, boys, let’s not fight. I have a better solution.”

With that, Shoko swipes the last piece, grinning at the complaints from the guys as she places it against her tongue, savouring the sweet taste. Her mind dips back to her plan as Gojo starts to whine about being hungry again.

‘He’s incredibly sensitive, even the mention of sneezing is enough to get his nose itchy. Describing how much it must tickle is fair game, but on its own, pretty ineffective. He’s annoyingly good at holding back when he wants to be, so if he catches on that sneezing is what I want, he’ll do everything in his power not to. I just need him to think I’m teasing him for his reaction, can’t let him read deeper into my motives.’

“Shoko?”

“Hm?”

Her name pulls her back into the conversation, both Geto and Gojo watching her closely, a lopsided grin spreading across Gojo’s mouth. ‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off his pretty-boy face.’ Gojo speaks up again, Geto’s eyes following her movements as she casually lets her hand dip back into her bag.

“I was asking if you’d want to come with us to the mall, DiverCity specifically? I’ve been craving chocolates that they sell at one of the stores for days.”

“Funny you mention it, I was just thinking about that place earlier. I’d love to come, but I have an assignment. Next time though, yeah?”

“Aw fiiiine, but Geto, you’re still coming, right?”

“Sure, why not. I could use a few things.”

Shoko tunes out again, hand tightening around a bottle as she lets a smirk spread across her face. ‘Funny he mentions the mall, seeing as that’s exactly where I got my method from.’ The last time they’d gone together she’d been showing him around a store he’d never been to before. It specializes in calming methods, and given how stressful being a Jujutsu sorcerer can be, she finds herself drawn there often.

An employee next to them had been showing a few people a new pillow spray, and as soon as they’d spritzed it, Gojo had been bent over into his arm with a rapid fit. She’d had to drag him out of the store. ‘Quite embarrassing at the time, especially given how whiny he can get during an attack, but now? Now I’ll get to use that spray to get payback.’

“Hey, Gojo.”

She cuts into their conversation with ease, used to interrupting them. ‘With those two, someone is always talking. If you wait for a pause, you’ll never get a word in.’ Gojo turns to her with a curious look, across the blanket Geto mimics it, a hint of something deeper flashing through his eyes. She gives him a quick nod, smirk quickly spreading across his face as he attempts to cover it.

“You know how I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently? I found a new spray that has been really helping. I thought you might want to have a look at it, I know you sometimes struggle with insomnia too.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you, yeah show me- show me- show me!”

‘Kind isn’t quite the word I’d use, but I appreciate your excitement anyways.’ Pulling it from her bag, she’s unsurprised at the lack of recognition in his eyes. He’s never been one for cataloging irrelevant information, and for some reason he’d decided keeping a list of everything that sets him off was irrelevant.

Taking off the cap, she gives him an open smile, before spraying it right in front of his face. ‘Can’t risk actually hitting him, that would be too suspicious, but I want it to get as close to his nose as possible.’ The result, much to her delight, is instantaneous.

“hhaHhHH-! Wh- whAhht- what kind of sp- spra… sprayisthat… heH’gnDZShh’uuhh-!”

“Something wrong?”

“I think I’m- eH’GNDZSHh’uu-! I think- heHASIhh’oo-! ah’gehhzshh’iew-!”

“Are you okay?”

Geto’s watching carefully, Shoko’s sure he’s keeping count in his head. Still, needing Gojo to believe her facade, she offers sympathy, pulling a travel pack of tissues out of her bag. ‘Tissues that just so happen to be sprayed with the allergen. Still only counts as one method, according to the rules.’

“Y- yeah- hAgzshh’uu-! knDzshh’iee-! Oh, scus- scuseme- heHhh-!”

“Here, take these, you sound like you need them.”

“Th… thhhehHh- thank you- hH’GUHzshh’oo-! aiYISHH’oo-! aHH’DNGZSHh’uu-! Oh god…”

“Blessings, Gojo.”

Finally speaking up, Geto catches Shoko’s eye and mouths ‘nine’. She shoots back a whispered ‘so far’, catching a smile in response. Gojo’s too busy tearing into the pack of tissues to notice any of this, bringing one to his nose as he gets a pause in the sneezing. He manages to blow, breathing a sigh of relief, instantly cut short by an itchy inhale.

“heAHh-! hH’DnZShh’uu-! AYISHH’oo-! KETZSHHH’oo-! What the- henGT-! ainGT’shoo-!”

“Blessings indeed, Gojo. Are you alright?”

“The ti- tihhhckle- heH’kNGDT-! haAHh-! eh’dnZZShh’oo-! Scuse me- the tickle got wo- wo… worse… I’m… I’m gonna… heHh-!”

Shoko smirks as the tears start pooling in Gojo’s eyes, his nose quivering as it starts to flush a brilliant shade of pink. ‘Time to implement phase two: suggestions. Just gotta be careful not to tip my hand. He’s attempting to stifle, which will only help, it only makes the tickle stronger.’

“You must be allergic to the spray, I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”

“heH-! hh’gndJSHH’uu-! AIYShhh’iew-! heH’DJZSHh’uu-!”

“Oh, bless you. Sounds really itchy, are yo-”

“hH’DJEZSHh’aa-! Sh- Shoko- waaitt… ahh’keTShh’oo-!”

“-you feeling it? The burning sensation-”

“eh’GnDJZSH’aahh-! hAHh’inGKt-!”

“-filling your sinuses? Like a feather, gen-"

“nGEHT’choo-! hePt’choo-! eNgEHP’choo-!”

“-gently brushing the inside of your nose?”

“heAIISHH’uhh-! eh’GdJZShh’uu-! I need… I’m gonna… I can’t…!”

Geto gives her a pointed look, lightly tapping his wrist. ‘Time’s almost up, time for the home stretch. Gotta make sure I get one last fit outta him. I know exactly what to say.’ Gojo’s nose is pressed into his wrist, trembling with allergic need as the tears keep flowing down his cheeks, seemingly making the tickle even worse as they brush up against the edges of his nose.

“I’m so sorry, Gojo. If I’d have known you were this allergic I never would have sprayed it so close to your nose! I mean, the droplets must have just floated through the air, gently landing on your skin, right on the tip of your nose-”

“Cru- Cruel Shoko- hEH’EDZSHH’uu-! eh’KTZSHhh’aa-! aiYISHH-keATzhh’oo-!”

With that, Shoko meets Geto’s eyes one last time, mouthing ‘how many?’, quite satisfied by the ‘thirty-two’ she receives in return. Her satisfaction only rises as Gojo ducks into his arm with another tightly stifled burst, Geto raising an eyebrow at the display.

“hH’KNGt’choo-! iNGt’choo-! hah’DNGt’choo-!”

“Blessings, Gojo.”

“Snff- Thank you, Geto. Guhhh… I’m gonna be itc- itchy… hh’GNZshh’iew-! for the rest of the day.”

Shoko pulls the tissues from Gojo’s lap while his focus is aimed towards Geto, replacing them with a second pack from her bag. ‘As fun as it is to watch you suffer, my attempt is over, no need to prolong the exposure. This reaction is gonna last for most of the day anyways.’

“Blow again, it might help dispel some of the allergen.”

“Yeah, good- eh’aISHH’uu-! good idea. Ya know, that may help you sleep, but I’m- heHh-! hEZSHHH’aa-! I’m getting the vague notion it wouldn’t do the same for me.”

Geto laughs, a smile tearing through Gojo’s itchy face at the sound, Shoko soon joining in. ‘Always one step removed, just outside the joke, but that’s okay. At least for now, I’m in on the joke while Gojo isn’t. I can live with that.’

Final Results: Thirty-Two (32) sneezes from Shoko’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Linen spray Gojo is allergic to, sprayed in front of face/on tissues presented to him. Sneezy talk was also implemented, increasing success.

~~ Geto’s Attempt ~~

‘Shoko’s try yielded better results then I was counting on. I may know more about Gojo but some facts escape even my grasp. I had no idea he was so allergic to that spray. However, that wasn’t what set her apart, it’s her cunning. She explained to me after that she sprayed it on the tissues. Truly genius, I would’ve never thought of that.’

This time it’s Geto’s turn to approach the duo, eyes closing as he smiles, Gojo giving a shout and Shoko putting out her cigarette. ‘I guess she doesn’t want to be called out for interference. It’s no matter, I don’t plan on letting anything distract me from my attempt. I didn’t have to think long about what to use, just how to best utilize it.’

“Geto! Shoko was just telling me about a new type of chocolate she saw the other day! Can we go buy some? Pleaaaase? Pretty please?”

“You still owe me for the last pack I bought you.”

“Aw, come on, you know you wannaaa~! You don’t wanna deny me of my happiness, do you?”

“You can have happiness without chocolates, Gojo.”

“How could you say such things?”

Gojo lets a pout spread over his face, lightly huffing as he leans his head against Geto’s shoulder. ‘Dramatic as always. Though, I guess that’s the reason we came up with this little challenge in the first place. One I’m sure to win with what I have planned.’ His mind starts to drift back to the first time he got to witness Gojo and lavender in the same room.

They’d been in a meeting together, the higher ups needing something Geto can’t recall now. It’s not of importance, even at the time it was one of the last things on his mind. Front and center was Gojo’s losing battle against the vase of lavender sitting almost mocking him on the table.

Normally, should the situation call for it, Gojo could hold off an allergy attack for hours, or at least upwards of twenty minutes. However, against the lavender he lasted no more than three, needing to leave the room just after seven because he was no longer able to form full words between the sneezing. The higher ups had been quite irritated, but today it would serve Geto well.

“Earth to Geto? Suuuguruuu? You there?”

“Huh?”

“Jeez, what is it with you two lately? Did I miss something, or is it just ‘stare off into the abyss with a smile creeping at your mouth’ season?”

“Sorry, I was just reminiscing.”

“Any particular memory you want to share, Geto?”

Shoko offers, eyes flashing with mischief as Geto sends a dark look in her direction, quickly replaced by a smile as she playfully sticks out her tongue.

“Not at the moment.”

“Oh, I know! Why don’t we play ‘share your favourite memory of Gojo’!”

“Yeah, no.”

“Aw Shoko, you’re no fun.”

Geto chuckles, ruffling Gojo’s hair as he gazes up from behind his sunglasses. ‘Just placing the lavender near him wouldn’t work. He could either leave the area, or the attack might not surpass thirty-two. The reason it had such a severe effect in the meeting was likely do to the pollen having a chance to gather in that tiny room.’

“Gojo, I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? You shouldn’t have!”

“Well if you don’t want i-”

“Hey, woah-woah-woah- of course I want it-!”

Reaching into his bag, Geto starts to set his plan in motion. ‘My best chance is getting some form of lavender where I can get it near his nose, close enough for the pollen to have a chance to float around him, but not obvious enough that he’ll just avoid it. I think this is the perfect solution.’

Making direct eye contact with Shoko, Geto sends her a message clearly. ‘My attempt is about to begin, get ready’. His hands grip around the present, placing it gently on Gojo’s head, fighting a smirk at the joy filling Gojo’s eyes.

“A flower crown!?”

“Yes. You showed me how to make them a while back, and so I made this one myself. I thought you might appreciate it-”

“Suguru… I love it! What kind of flowers are these?”

“Mostly sakura, though I did add a few other plants I found in the area to tie it together.”

‘If I just used lavender he’d simply take it off when he started sneezing. However, given that it’s not a type of flower he’s allergic to, it won’t be his first thought. Because of that, he’ll be too focused on sneezing to worry about removing it, letting the hidden lavender keep sending wafts of pollen down into his face. Plus, I made sure the sakura was quite pollen soaked. He’s not allergic, but with his nose already being set off from the lavender, the sickly sweet smell is sure to prompt a few extra sneezes.’

“It’s bea- hEHh-! Oh, scuse me. It’s beautiful.”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just thou- ahHh-! Hehh… thought I was… o- oh… I am…. I’m- hH’DjZEShh’oo-!”

“Blessings, Satoru.”

“iHh’kETChh’uu-! S- sorry I… eH’DtjZSh’iew-! hEh’kezzchh-aiyshhh’aa-knGT’choo-!”

“And again.”

A glance over to Shoko tells Geto she’s keeping track, fingers tapping against the railing she’s leaning on with every sneeze. Gojo lets out a faint whine, hand coming up to scrub at his nose as tears start dripping from his eyes.

“hH’GNt’choo-! ehH-! Ohfuck- hH’NGT-EINGT-nNGT-knDT’choo-! aINGT’choo-! hAH’DJZSHHEW-!”

“Christ, Satoru, bless you.”

“knngT-! aIghNT’choo-! hH’YEZSHH’aa-! AIYShh’oo-! neH’GEDT’choo-!”

Geto risks another look at Shoko, barely containing his smirk at the dumbfounded expression she’s wearing as Gojo frantically fans his face. ‘I haven’t even started talking about the tickle yet. He’s more allergic than I remembered. I almost feel bad…’ His thoughts are cut off by Gojo pressing his rapidly twitching nose into Geto’s shoulder, hitching against the fabric of his shirt. ‘And that’s why it’s only almost.’

“henGT’choo-! hH’DEHgnT’choo-!”

“You should stop that, you’re not-”

“heH’KNDTZSHH’uhh-! ihh’GNXXZT’choo-!”

“-gonna be able to catch a breath.”

“You- you’re right… Suguru it- it tihhhhckles… hEaHh-! AIYZSZHH’uu-! kuh’MMZSHH’aa-!”

Gojo’s voice is muffled from the congestion already seeping through the cracks, and Geto feels a pang of guilt tear at his heart. It’s quickly replaced by something calmer as Gojo aims the next fit at Geto’s chest, flower crown shaking lightly as he ducks his head, only releasing more pollen. ‘Sorry Satoru, but this is well deserved. Time for a little power of suggestion.’

“aH’GnZH’euu-! hehHh-! hH’MMZSHHH’oo-!”

“Blessings. Those sound quite itchy-”

“emmpffshh’oo-! hEPT’choo-! ehP’choo-!”

“-don’t they? Something bothering your sensitive-”

“hHMPPT’choo-! AInGT’choo-! S- Suguru- hNGT’choo-! heH’KDZGT’choo-!”

“-nose? I bet it’s tickling something awful, isn’t it?”

Meeting Gojo’s watery eyes, Geto lets himself slip right into stage three of his plan, time quickly running out. ‘Knowing him, he should be sensitive enough by now that just the word sneeze will set him off. Let’s try to get a handful more. I believe I’ll win anyways, but better safe than sorry.’

“eNGXXT’choo-!”

“Don’t you just-”

“hepDT’choo-!”

“-have to…”

“hAhHh-!”

“Sneeze so badly?”

“hAH’ADJZSHH’uu-! keTSCHH’aa-! AIYZSHH’uhh-!”

“Blessings again for those sneezes.”

“I kn- know what…. Ohgod- hEH’EDZSHHEW-! guhhH’DNZSHH’oo-! I know what you’re doing.”

“Doing? I’m simply blessing you as you sneeze.”

“AIYZSHH’oo-! hH’GNkZSHH’uhh-!”

Taking pity on him as Shoko mouths ‘time’s up’, Geto pulls the crown from Gojo’s hair, tossing it to the side as the sneezy man ducks into his arm for another fit. ‘Whoops… maybe I should have removed it a bit sooner…’

“iNGt’choo-! heASHH’oo-! kEtCSHh-aizshh-kezZSHH’uu-!”

“Bless you Satoru…”

“You- hEHnGT’choo-! Sound quite gui- guilty- eh’knSHH’uhh-! Guilty, Suguru. Why ever could- hh’gEZSHH’aa-! Christ… Could that be? Wouldn’t have any-hNGSHH’iew-! Anything to do with my having two allergy attacks in the past four days, would it?”

Geto’s eyes snap to the floor, a warm tint starting to spread across his cheeks, Shoko chuckling as she lightly pats Gojo’s back, letting her eyes close with a slight huff.

“I think he’s caught us, Geto.”

“I believe so.”

“hNNSCHh’iew-! Would someone care to explain to me what’s going on exactly?”

“Of course, but first we should probably get you some allergy medication. There was lavender in the flower crown.”

Gojo’s watery glare meets Geto, his mouth hanging open. ‘Probably less from shock and more for the sake of breathing. I doubt much is flowing through his sinuses right about now.’ Geto can’t help but smile at the sight, pink nose vibrating as Gojo attempts to end the attack by pinching it shut, tears streaming from his gorgeous eyes. ‘If he wasn’t so miserable, I’d want to see this side of him more often, he’s quite adorable like this.’

“I want to be mad bu- knDJZSSH’uu-! But I proooobably deserved this.”

Laughter erupts from the group, Shoko nearly falling over as it bursts from her chest, Geto pulling Gojo closer as they start walking back into the school, explaining the competition to a still sneezing Gojo.

Shoko leads them to her office where she keeps a stash of medications for situations like this. ‘Well, not exactly like this,’ Geto chuckles to himself, ‘I doubt there’s even been a situation quite like this one. Oh, that reminds me-’

“Say, Shoko, I did win, didn’t I? Even not counting-”

“hHNGTshh’aa-!”

“-the bonus ones?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like I stood a chance in the first place, you two obviously know more about each other.”

“Actually, I didn’t know he was allergic to that spray. That was all you.”

“Huh, really? Interesting. Oh- I guess you want to know the numbers?”

Geto flashes a smile, eyes wrinkling as Gojo whips around with another small fit aimed at the floor. He nods at Shoko, murmuring a blessing against Gojo’s hair as he convulses.

“heh’gnZSHhh’oo-! eh’kshhh’iew-! heHh-! hAH’DTZShhh’uu-!”

“Again, not counting the extras, you rang in at forty-two. Exactly ten more than mine, surprisingly enough.”

“Oh Christ, that wasn’t counting the ones I- hH’gnZZShh’aa-! I’m still doing?”

A blush spreads across Gojo’s face, one of the strongest sorcerers in the Jujutsu world apparently not immune to embarrassment. Shoko offers a laugh in response, rummaging through her desk until she finds a blister pack, handing it over. Geto grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, passing it to Gojo with another blessing, lightly cupping his face for just a second.

“I saw that, ya know.”

This time both men blush, Shoka rolling her eyes playfully, then throwing a box of tissues at Geto. Gojo hastily yanks out a handful, blowing his nose with a deep groan before sniffling into the pile.

“Clean him up, will ya? It’s been a long day, I’m headed home.”

“hH’AieZSHH’uu-!”

“Let’s play again some time, shall we, Shoko?”

“Yes, let’s. Next time I’ll beat you for sure.”

“hAH’ZASHH’oo-! How ‘bout next time it’s a free for all? I’d like a little chance for revenge.”

“This was the revenge, Satoru. Ours.”

“Oh fine, but you two owe me some chocolates! Oh- oh, and mochi!”

Shoko smacks Gojo upside the head as Geto lets a laugh burst from his chest, the other two soon joining in harmony.

The world outside may be a dangerous place for a Jujutsu sorcerer, and the three of them aren’t immune to the stress, but right here, right now, they’re just three friends sharing a laugh.

Final Results: Forty-Two (42) sneezes from Geto’s Attempt. Method Use/Application: Lavender hidden in a flower crown already dripping with sakura pollen. Also used suggestibility, increasing success with sneezy talk.

#waterfallwrites #is this way too long? yes. have i not slept enough to be writing this much? also yes.#am i posting it anyways bc i loved writing it and the concept was so fun to me? yes #anyways thank you to anyone who bothers to read this #and i hope you enjoy!!!#snz #snzkink #snzfic #j/jk #g/ojo #g/eto #s/atosugu

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charles-and-camilla-fanfictions · 9 months

Text

Assassination Attempt- Part 2

For the past two years, seeing him had been like performing a complex military manoeuvre in order to escape the constant clicks of the cameras, so the amount of time they had spent together had greatly reduced. This had done nothing to ease the need to be together, with each snatched meeting more precious than the last. They’d spoken on the phone throughout his trip to Australia but had never been entirely confident with the security of the line and therefore conversation had remained on safe subjects. By the end of the trip he’d been phoning her constantly, for a scant few minutes at a time, and she’d known he’d used her voice as a way to calm himself. It had made her ache for him with the need to temper his anxiety. He’d phoned her when he’d reached St James Palace and, secure in their privacy, they’d talked until he’d fallen fast asleep whilst on the line. She’d placed the receiver next to her ear and had listened to him snore, knowing that was as close as she could get to him and had then rested her head on the pillow to allow him to ease her to sleep. Neither of them had broached what had happened in Australia; it hung like a sword.

Tonight, they are meeting at her sister’s house for dinner and her heart is pitter-pattering in anticipation of seeing him. Her sister’s household is as chaotic as normal and she gets stuck into the chaos quickly, rushing about the kitchen, doing a hundred jobs before the guests arrive. She contrasts this with her own parties, which run like clockwork, and smiles as she recalls how Andrew panics when she’s up in her room, pretending to be still getting dressed to wind him up, ten minutes before people are meant to arrive. She used to host enough events to manage a simple dinner party without stress but her sister seems to thrive on it so she never intervenes.

“Darling, the door! Get it for me!”

She knows better than to argue with her sister when she’s like this, even if really, Annabel should be the one greeting the guests. Her parents are at the door and she starts to help her father with her mother’s wheelchair before he tells her to get her brother, looking at her in shock and a touch of disapproval. Of course, she should know better than to do a man’s job whilst in a pretty dress. She makes to return inside but recognises Charles’s voice as he calls out to her and turns as he and her father help her mother up the steps. Beating abnormally loudly, her heart informs her of its pleasure to see him and as he kisses her cheeks in greeting, she feels her body sinking against his. It’s difficult to pull apart, made doubly so by how he kisses her lips, once, making her gasp out her breath. Then decorum dictates they must part so they do, and she attempts to greet her mother, who is in a daze of pain and barely acknowledges her.

He wants her attention all evening, demands it, even as he engages in conversation with those around him. His eyes are just on her, following her around the room, smiling at her, laughing with her. When they’re stood together, it’s difficult to speak as just this chaste distance makes her heart pang against her chest and she wants to kiss him so much it’s painful. It’s only much later on that she gets him to herself and she wraps her arms around him and pulls him down to kiss her and it’s fire.

Her sister interrupts them with a knock on the table and even then it’s difficult to pull away. They stand clinched, together, not wanting to return from the daze of each other. Realising that her sister is handing them both a glass of port, they are ushered into the snug and they sit huddled on the sofa, opposite Annabel and her husband, pressed as close to each other as possible, fingers entwined. She takes a sip of port before placing her glass on the side table, noting him mirror her and reaches to hold his other hand, her fingers gently stroking down his.

“So go on, tell us about what happened.”

Ever direct, her sister is more nosy than she is and she smiles as she presses her shoulder into his, feeling him adjust to accommodate her, to allow her to be closer. He’s nonchalant about the whole affair, telling them the facts but skips over any detail, despite Annabel’s prompting. A frown grows on her brow as she worries about him and her fingers press harder into his.

“We saw it on the news,” Annabel looks to her husband for confirmation, “and I have to say, Sir, it was frightfully worrying.”

“It scared me.” She uses her own feelings to prompt his but it just allows them to raise to the surface again.

“It was nothing, really.”

She feels his hand on her cheek, turning her face towards his and meeting his eyes with a jolt. “But it still scared me.”

“Don’t be scared for me. I was never really unsafe.” His voice is breathy and his eyes are boring into hers earnestly.

“But you could have been. That’s what scared me. It still scares me.” She feels her lip twitching with the effort of not allowing her emotions to take hold of her.

“I think we’re retiring upstairs now. Everything’s locked up so you can head up when you want.” Her sister nudges her husband out of the room, leaving them. She knows they’re giving her space to talk to him and she’s grateful.

“It was that little of a danger, I did my speech straight afterwards.”

His fingers are caressing her face and it’s difficult to maintain the conversation.

“But you’re allowed to cry if you need to.”

She shakes her head, annoyed with herself. “You were amazing to deliver that speech. I don’t think most people would have managed to do that. I was so proud of you.”

“It was nothing.”

She feels a stray tear flee her eye and race down her cheek, flinging over her chin and down her neck. He traces the pathway with his thumb before kissing her neck, making her heart ache. “It wasn’t nothing. You don’t realise how special you are.”

“Why are you crying? You knew I was alright.”

It wasn’t that. It was that you didn’t care. I saw your face, you just… It was as if it genuinely didn’t matter to you what happened. Charles, I need you to care…”

“I do care, my Darling. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you. I wanted to terribly when I realised how big the story was, but by then it was like everything was deliberately conspiring, not letting me reach you. There wasn’t a break in the engagements and I had no one around me I could trust to phone you. Then there was that awful storm… But I know that’s no excuse. I should have phoned you right away but I didn’t think…”

“I don’t mind about that. That’s not what upset me so much.”

“I’m sorry, though.”

She feels his lips kissing her neck in penitence and it’s difficult to keep questioning him, it would be far too easy to reach for him instead. “Why didn’t you care about what happened to you?”

He pulls away from her immediately and she doesn’t try to stop him although her heart pangs.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth, Darling. Always the truth. Even if you think I won’t like to hear it.”

“I’m cold.”

She pulls a blanket from the wicker basket at the end of the sofa, knowing he’s stalling, letting him organise his thoughts. Wrapping it around the both of them, she feels him wriggling until he has his head on her chest. Gently, she eases them down onto the sofa, their legs entwined and then she adjusts the blanket around them again. She waits.

“I was disappointed.”

He stops but she doesn’t interrupt, just strokes his head softly.

“It wasn’t real. I don’t want to die, don’t worry. I just… even an assassination attempt wasn’t a real one. I knew it wasn’t a real gun. The sound wasn’t right. It was pathetic. Just like me.”

“You’re not pathetic, Darling. Please don’t think that.”

“I could just imagine Diana laughing at me for making a scene and I don’t want to embarrass the boys any more than I already have. They already think I’m weak.”

It makes her heart ache for him. She kisses the top of his head.

“And then I couldn’t even ring you and I turned into a monster. I shouted at all my staff. I was obnoxious to everyone. So rude. My father would have taken me to pieces if he’d had heard.”

“You are allowed to be upset after what happened. You are human.”

“You were upset with me, weren’t you.”

“Yes.”

“You wouldn’t even come to the phone. Andrew answered for you.”

“I didn’t answer because Andrew didn’t want me to worry you, I wasn’t not talking to you.”

“Andrew needs to stay out of it! He’s always interfering. I was worried that you weren’t talking to me. If you’re upset, I still want to talk to you. I want to make you feel better. I still want to talk to you if you’re upset with me; I want to fix us, to make it alright. I thought you must have been so angry with me. I sat and stewed for two hours, waiting to call you. I’ve worried about this for two weeks.”

“I wasn’t angry with you. I promise. And I wouldn’t do that to you. Well I was a tiny bit angry but not like that. You could have demanded that Andrew pass the phone over.”

“If you were angry with me, me doing that would have lit the fuse.”

“True. I’d not thought of that.” That makes them both giggle, despite the conversation.

“Your eyes if I’d done that… I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall but there is no way I would deliberately cause that!”

She smiles and her fingers caress his face, running along his cheek, over his lips which reach out to kiss her.

“I’m sorry for making you upset. If I’d been able to phone you earlier, you would have been fine.”

“It’s okay. I’m tough.”

“I know. But I’m sorry you have to be. Was Andrew good with you?”

“Yes.”

“Well that makes a change.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“He’s never there for you when you’re upset. I know. I’m the one who holds you when you’re crying.”

“I’ve never let him know I’m upset.”

“Why?”

She shrugs but he doesn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue. This is uncomfortable; she feels a cold prickle down her spine. He never usually picks at her marriage. “To never give him reason to not want to come home to me.”

He sighs and she knows he’s annoyed with her, or perhaps annoyed with Andrew. “If you ever do that to me, I will be so angry with you. I love you, my Darling, not the cultivated fragments of yourself you feel you should proffer to keep me happy. With me, in person, alone like this, are you always yourself or do you feel you have to perform?”

“That’s a level of honesty I’m not sure I can always manage.”

“What about most of the time?”

“Are you always honest with me?”

“In person, yes… Most of the time…”

“Then I’ll try for most of the time.” She smiles and wriggles down so she can reach his lips. “On the subject of honesty, tell me what you were thinking.”

“At that moment, not very much. Disappointed, like I said.”

“And after?”

“Fear. Not of death itself, I don’t fear that. Fear that I could die without being true to myself. Fear that I could die thousands of miles away from you and not see you before I have to go. I’m not ready to give up. I must find a way to be with you or there’s no reason for existence, even if I can’t see a way forward. Oh, Darling, you’re crying again.”

“Only a tiny bit.” But her heart is beating so hard, he must be able to feel it against his hand as he spreads his fingers over her chest. This love is so different from anything that came before. His words encompass and soothe her even as she’s trying to help him, to listen to him. She feels his soft kisses across her cheeks and on the tip of her nose.

“I would be so happy with you. I’ve always known that. And I believe I would make you happy, if we married. I think it’s the only solution available to us.”

“Marriage?”

“Yes, Darling. I can’t have you subject to the constant indignities of being my mistress. Marriage is the only way forward.”

“I’m not so sure other people would agree.”

“Well we’ll have to show them. Darling, you’d be quite wonderful. I know you would.”

“Would I be Queen Camilla? Even saying the name sounds ridiculous.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’d be Her Majesty, The Queen.”

“It’s ludicrous. You’re sounding like Andrew.”

“Andrew said I would make you my Queen?”

“I think Andrew was just joking about which titles I could bestow on him were I to become Queen. But he was having a laugh. He wasn’t serious.”

“Well I am.”

“And I would happily marry you in this fairytale land you’ve concocted.”

“Only in a fairytale land?”

“I would marry you in any land.”

“Marry me now.”

“I take thee Charles Arthur… to have and to hold…”

“I take thee Camilla Rosemary… for better, for worse…”

The words had started as a joke but the second he says her name, she realises it’s not. It’s a longing too desperate to give any inch of escape but she can’t help it, the words come tumbling out, “To love and to cherish…”

“Till death us do part.”

They’re lying nose to nose and she can feel his breath heavy against her lips. “I mean it.” The words are whispered but she says them loud enough for him to hear.

“As do I, my Darling, as do I. One day. I promise you.” He bites her nose, making her giggle and she tries to retaliate but he pulls away each time, making them both laugh.

“Now we’ve remedied that infliction, was that the only thing that bothered you?”

“Are we not going to consummate the marriage first?”

She giggles at him, kissing him firmly, letting it linger until he reaches to kiss her again then she pulls away. “No. Later. What else bothered you?”

“Loneliness. Unfulfilment. Boredom. Dissatisfaction with life. Love or the lack of love.”

“I love you!”

“I know. But you’re not with me and I spend my time pining for you, longing for your love.”

“You need to soak it up when you’ve got it. Store it up and make it last.”

“Does that work for you?”

“Well… not exactly…”

“It doesn’t work for me at all. Perhaps if I could spend enough time with you to get fully charged up? Then I might just need to be topped up but I run down to zero the day I leave you and I know how far away the next time will be and I live on empty, clinging onto your voice when we speak on the phone.”

She closes her eyes at his words, her face scrunched as if to deter the tears but he wipes them from her cheeks and kisses her heavily.

“And yet again, I’ve made you cry. I’m so sorry.”

“You have my love. You have all of it. It’s yours. Take it. Take all that you need. Take more. It’s the most natural feeling in the world and it grows and grows. I give it all to you and it’s still there, overflowing.”

“Mine isn’t like that. Mine feels like a solid structure, part of me, grown throughout my life into what makes me, me. I worry I don’t share it enough with you.”

“You gave me your heart thirty years ago. I kept it here, safe.” She taps her chest. “It’s a part of me now. You need to remember that you possess mine.”

“I find it so difficult when we’re apart for so long.”

“I know, Darling. But I’m here. I’m always here for you. Was there anything else? Anything else that troubled you in Australia?”

“Just that it was such a poor attempt. He didn’t even make the effort to do it properly. I wasn’t worth the effort.”

“He was protesting. He wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“I know that now…”

“It’s a stupid reason, being disappointed.”

“Just a pathetic little man with an agenda.”

Seriously, Charles. You sound like a spoilt brat.”

He scoffs but she can tell he finds her amusing. “I am a spoilt brat. I think that’s the entire point of being a Prince.”

“You don’t get to be a spoilt brat around me.”

“Yes, I’m aware… I’m on my best behaviour at all times around you.”

“Christ. That’s your best behaviour?”

“If it had been a real assassination attempt, and I’d escaped unscathed, or possibly with just a very attractive mark which would turn into a war wound, then you’d be so beside yourself with worry, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

She giggles. “Especially if you’d been terribly brave and apprehended the armed man with your bare hands.”

“And saved all the people in the event from his tyranny.”

“You are a hero, Darling.”

“And then I handed him over to law enforcement and pulled you to me.”

“And I was overcome with how astonishingly brave you are.”

“And you kissed me in front of everyone.”

“Desperately.” Her stomach spins and she squeals loudly as he flips her over onto her back and then her skin fires with the anticipation of kissing him as he grasps hold of her wrists and hoists them above her head. She hears the side table hit the floor with a loud thud and they both giggle.

“What else would you let me do in celebration of my heroics.”

“Anything you want to do.” She strains up to kiss him, hearing the moan leave his mouth but he pulls away and looks down at her, his eyes impossibly dark.

“Jesus, Milla.” He reaches to kiss her again and she tugs her wrists from his grasp, reaching up to hook her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her, kissing him, the rush through her body immediate and fierce.

“This might…” Her words trail off as he kisses her harder, his hands dragging down her body making her strain to get closer to him. “…shock people.”

“Let it.” The words shoot out with his breath as he pulls down the straps of her dress and his hands against her bare skin shoot through her into a thousand separate strands, piercing through her body, making her call out. She can’t pull him close enough.

“For Christ sake Camilla. I put you in the back bedroom so you’d be on the other side of the house to us. This room is directly under our bedroom. I’m not having it.”

She pulls him against her to shield herself, and starts to giggle at the expression on her sister’s face. Her giggle sets Charles off and Annabel is not amused, turning on her heel and shutting the door with a thud.

“She’s jealous.”

“Oh absolutely.”

They giggle to themselves, kissing intermittently, trying not to get carried away with the kisses.

“Let’s stay here. We’d have to be quiet. Not get caught by my sister.”

“Oh no. You promised me that you’d do anything I want. I most certainly don’t want to be quiet. And I don’t want you to be quiet. And I need more room than on a shabby old sofa.”

“Well you can start me off here.”

“You think you can be quiet?”

“Yes!”

“Are you positive?”

She bites her lip, her eyes gleaming up at him. She feels his hands grab hold of her legs and he pulls her roughly to him, making her stomach fly, making her squeak slightly.

“Your sister will be really annoyed if she has to listen to you after that.”

But he touches her and she can’t stifle the moan even as he presses his hand against her mouth and he laughs, reaching down to kiss her.

“Upstairs.”

“Yes, Sir.” She giggles again as he raises his eyebrows at her before wriggling out of his grasp and rolling off the sofa onto her feet. Holding her hand out to him, her face gleams as he tugs it, threatening to pull her on top of him and then he lets her pull him up and charges at her, holding onto her as he manoeuvres her backwards out the door, both of them giggling, unable to stop kissing each other.

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lumiereandcogsworth · 10 months

Note

29. As a promise!

29. a kiss as a promise

on Ao3!!

word count: 1,262

—

Adam woke up scrunching his face, morning sunlight blinding him through the windows. He rolled over in bed, only to find his wife smiling at him.

“Watching me while I sleep, are you?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Belle chuckled, “I’ve been awake for four hours already, love.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“I didn’t! Your child decided to practice the waltz at half past four this morning! I couldn’t get back to sleep after that.”

Adam opened his eyes again, waking up a bit more but still in a fog. He reached over to place a hand on Belle’s pregnant belly. “I’m sorry little one was misbehaving,” he muttered, tired but earnest.

Belle sighed, melting back into her pillow. “Not the first night it’s happened.”

Her husband adjusted himself a bit. They faced each other in bed, which was often how they fell asleep — talking too late into the night until one of them (usually Belle) passed out.

“Have you had tea yet?”

“I’ve done about thirty things already, but yes, tea was one of them,” Belle replied, poking his nose.

He hated when she did that, but he wouldn’t dare start an argument when she was tired and carrying their child and clearly tired of carrying their child. Even if she wasn’t one to complain, as he generally was, he could sense her irritation.

“That’s good. Did you have any dreams?”

Belle’s eyes lit up. “I did actually! How did you know?”

Adam smiled. She dreamt virtually every night, and she always told him about it. “Lucky guess.”

His wife giggled, then looked up in thought. “I do remember, I dreamt about the baby, actually. I dreamt he was already born and I was holding him.”

“Was it actually a boy? Is this a prophecy?”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I think I just usually assume it is, in my dreams.”

“You assume it is in real life, too,” Adam teased, quirking an eyebrow.

Belle grinned. “Is there any harm?? I’ll still love it if it’s a girl. And anyway, you think it’s a girl. We have to have something to argue about.”

“Oh, darling, I don’t think we’re ever out of things to argue about.”

“True,” she laughed. “Well, regardless, that’s all I remember about my dream before I was so rudely awoken,” Belle said, accusingly looking down at her bump.

“Now, now, be kind. She didn’t mean any harm,” Adam said, affectionately rubbing his hand along her side.

Belle groaned, “I know, that’s what makes it so difficult,” she sighed. “I wish we could take turns. I could take this off and you could be pregnant for a bit.”

Adam coughed out a laugh. “That would be quite the sight.” She laughed too, and then he said, “Well, I’ll just hold the baby extra after she’s born.”

“Oh but I’ll want to hold it then!!”

“You’ve been holding her for nine months. Like you said! We need to take turns.”

Belle laughed again. “Fine, fine. I do admit it will be sweet to see you hold the baby,” she said with soft eyes.

He nodded, face twisted in thought. “You know, I realized the other day, I think this will be the first baby I ever hold.”

Belle smiled in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, hand still fondly on her belly. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly the type of person that someone would just give their baby to.”

She giggled, “Fair. But what about Chip?”

Adam looked to the side in thought. “Hmm… he was born here. I remember him toddling around a lot, always at Mrs. Potts’ heel. I don’t recall ever holding him myself, though. I was probably too nervous or indifferent to do so.”

“Makes sense,” Belle said, touching his cheek affectionately. “Well, then this will be special!”

He blinked. “Darling, I think the fact that we’re having a child is already fairly special.”

“No, I know,” she chuckled. “I just mean it’ll be doubly special. The first child you hold being your own.”

Adam’s eyes softened. He knew that, logically of course, but hearing it said made his heart swell a little. It was special. He smiled down at her belly, his hand was still there. He already felt so protective of their little one, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“What about you, then? Have you held all the little village babies?” he smirked.

“Not all, but I have held a few. I remember the first one, actually. Père Robert has sisters, and one of them had a baby when I was…” she looked up in thought, then shrugged. “A child. Maybe six or seven. Anyway, we went over to their village, not too far from Villeneuve, because Papa had made a little mobile for the baby — just as he’s making one for this one now,” she grinned. “I remember they asked me if I wanted to hold her — it was a little girl — and I was so excited to. I sat on the sofa and they sort of just… laid her on my lap, but I remember my arms going around her and I knew how precious she was, you know?”

Adam nodded, a soft smile on his face as he listened.

“Her name was Sandra,” Belle continued with a smile. “Gosh, she must be all grown up now. I should ask Père Robert about her. And her brother! They had a little boy a few years later, I held him too.”

“What was his name?”

“François. He had the chubbiest cheeks.”

Adam chuckled, “Oh, well that’s good. Sounds like you had lots of baby experience, then.”

“Ah, not as much as you’d think. People were less inclined to introduce me to their children as I got older, especially their daughters. They didn’t like me interacting with them…” she said with a frown.

Adam’s eyebrows drew together. He understood why, of course, but it didn’t bring any further comfort to the notion. It only irritated him, tapping into the part of his heart that wished he could remove any fowl being that dared disrespect his beloved Belle.

“Well,” he replied, “I promise that you can interact with all of our children.”

His wife burst out laughing, immediately washing away all the thorny memories. “Wow, thank you so much, love.”

“You have my word,” Adam grinned. They laughed together, both their hands on her bump now, subconsciously including their little one in this sweet moment. Adam leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“I can’t wait for our children to know you,” he whispered.

“They’ll think I’m strange.”

“Then we’ll be a strange family.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Do you promise?”

Adam grinned, moving his hand to her cheek and coming closer to kiss her lips, softly and just as sweet as always. When he pulled away, he touched their foreheads together. “I promise,” he said in a whisper.

Belle smiled, shutting her eyes with such joy in her heart. She felt Adam press another kiss to her forehead, it sent sparks to her heart. The next thing she felt was a familiar and sometimes annoying movement from the baby. In this instance though, it only made her happier.

“There he is,” she said in a light, sing-song tone.

The two expectant parents returned their hands to her bump so they could feel the little dancing steps of their child. A million feelings washed over them as they awaited their little one — worry and joy and fear and excitement — but in that moment there was only sweet, wonderful peace.

#beloveds 🥺🥺💖💖#adelle #adam x belle #belle x adam #batb 2017 #beauty and the beast 2017 #beauty and the beast (2017)#beauty and the beast #batb fanfic #batb fic #lydia writes!

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croisvoix · 8 months

Text

I have a lot of thoughts about Bombrush Cyberfunk and trying to make a spiritual successor to a game over twenty years later. I love Jet Set Radio Future and when I saw the screenshots for Bombrush I thought it was going to be great, these are people who get the aethetic of Jet Set. The music was great, it was gorgeously cel shaded, the environments I saw looked like a playground. I slammed it into my wishlist and bought it release day. My enthusiasm for the game died in a thousand little cuts as I played it. I want to explore why, because I generally like when games get more modern! We made dogshit games in the past and Jet Set has its share of dog shit parts, no one enjoys Pharoah Park.

Let's start with movement. You start the game with no wheels on your feet. This is a skating game and that choice feels strange out the gate. In fact before I get wheels I get a boost pack. I was excited by the boostpack at first. It felt like it would give some fine control with how I could move laterally where I needed to.

I was wrong.

The boost pack existing damns the level design of Bombrush. Jet Set has lines of places to swap from grind spot to grind spot, letting you not touch the ground for long stretches if you want. It's great, makes you feel smart and observant when you get to the bottom of Dogenzaka the first time with never leaving a rail.

Bombrush's lines all require trial and error with a finicky boost pack that has two ways to boost you and neither work as well as you want. You have a short boost that doesn't lose altitude. It does however reset all your momentum. And it plays awfully with the camera. The camera wants to look a certain way, even when you're trying to do a plant to aim yourself. This leads to jumps that should he easy being impossible the first so many times because you can't aim properly. You have to trial and error to a landing. This murders your momentum.

The other function of the boost pack is to let you glide. It's not an accurate way to describe what happens but it feels like developer intent. Instead you drop rapidly as you gain a disappointing horizontal distance. The boost pack does not help you go vertical. This is another frustration. Maybe later you get that. I doubt I will find out without someone telling me.

How does this damn the level design? All the pieces of your playground get cut up and thrown far from each other because you are expected to boost jump between them. The boost pack which I thought would add fine control is too unpredictable and hard to use for this purpose. The lines are not visually distinct and the levels feel disjointed. I didn't have fun navigating around as I had to dedicate more time to scouting lines before starting. Which leads to one of Jet Set's problems that Bombrush exacerbated: grinding.

Grinding is king in Jet Set. It's how you het everywhere. It's easy scoring. It's the resource efficient way to get speed. Bombrush made it worse. The points weren't that major in Jet Set until the post game but you could accumulate high scoring points just stringing tricks together. This is not the case in Bombrush. Tricks give a pitrance of ppints and multipliers come from few sources. The best way to get multiplier? Leaning into turns on grinds whole not changing tricks. Changing tricks is rhythmic, it's fun and it gets you boost meter. You do not get multiplier changes if you lean into a turn while doing a trick. This sucks. This doubly sucks because the way I fought the first two gangs involved earning points and you only have a chance at this is with multiplier.

Speaking of fighting gangs, the mehtod of fighting them is simpler than Jet Set. You go to a neighborhood, you spray over their graffiti until individual members show up. You follow their routine and run them off. Repeat until you can do the big gamg battle. It's just earning points. Jet Set at least changed up the ways you did this. You raced Beat and Poison Jam. You followed a line for Combo. You played capture the flag with rapid 99. You played a weird ball race against fake Yoyo. The lack of variety off the bat there was disappointing.

If I planned this I would transfer to talking about gang design but I want to talk about one more mechanical thing not tied up in character design: fighting cops. You get actually fight the cops directly in this game. It sucks. Kicking cops is treated as doing tricks, which means you could theoertically combo cops for points. Unfortunately the knock out blow on a cop always breaks your combo. And it just lacks the charm of body slamming a cop at mach 2 then spray painting them. The cops in Jet Set are scripted, only showing because of playing the game and then fucking off when the encoutner is done. It's a nice way to break up the pace of the game.

Bombrush decided to have scripted encounters with cops but to also have cops be a punishment for playing the game. There is a GTA heat system. Level one randomly happens for spray painting graffiti. From star one on your game gets progressively more annoying to play. You get level two almost immediately. This makes turrets pop put of the ground that fire chains ehich latch onto you and restrict your movement.

In my skating game.

This sucks.

The turrets also are the only way to access certain graffiti points, so you have to remember where those points are and book it there while the game sends infinite cops at you. Then after you do that you have to get the cops to go away. Especially since you can't change characters while the cops are after you. There is exactly one way to rid yourself of cops, go to a portapotty and change your outfit. And once you do the fucking thing locks and you have to find another one. They are not labeled on your map. Neither is the place you do character select.

Which if like me you want to play as the woman because you hate being forced to play a dude, is a massive pain in the ass. They wrote the story about Red and goddamn will they force you to play as him at every opportunity. You have play an entire area and then a chunk of another to unlock character select. This sucks. Meanwhile in Jet Set I never got forced to play someone unless I played YoYo up to the point he goes away. And when you unlock another character it's your save point that you desperately sprayed and is highlighted on the map you need. Bombrush has checkerboard dance spots. I never unlocked another character beyond the other two members of the starting crew. And Bel just isn't gender enough.

What is the iconic gang of Jet Set? It's Poison Jam. They're freaks. They dress weird, they're evil and live in the sewer. They're also one of only two gangs of super freaks you see. Every gang is full of freaks but in a subdued way. Rapid 99 is beloved because of their beef with Poison Jam while also being somewhat normal looking. The GG's are full of freaks but in a cool fashion sense not all of them looking like supervillains.

The gangs I saw in Bombrush were all Poison Jam levels of design. You have Frankenstein wannabes, then cybergoth astrology weirdos and then 90's web browser helmet cyborgs. The main antagonist has an army of cloned women. It's weird. It's all escalation and no breathing room. And I didn't even get fun freaks to also play as while I went.

The game lacks a huge personality to get me to care about the world. It doesn't have to be DJ Professor K but it needs something, a person excited to talk to me about the weirdos running around. Instead other than the musicians the dialogue is all text with occasional mismatched voice lines to the text. This is whatever but with a lack of any characters that are more than a cool design and gimmick it really hurts.

Why am I writing this? I don't super know other than the fact that the game made me think a lot about why I loved Jet Set and how maybe modernization doesn't make a game better. That modern axioms that you need more movement options aren't always good. That the jank of old game limitations added to the charm of a game and made it beloved. That trying to capture that magic of an old game is really fucking hard and trying to innovate on it without abandoning the soul of what it was. And that putting down a post to sleep and coming back later fucking killed my train of thought.

#bomb rush cyberfunk #game thoughts #game criticism #jet set radio future

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diodellet · 11 months

Text

hi so im: caffeinated and ovulating

minors do not interact

(colorized: me spitballing some hcs abt closeted pillow princess jamil viper. ++beware incoherent rambling ahead.)

see the funny thing abt jamil is that once you get past his defensiveness, he would greedily accept any and all of your affections. and he would absolutely love being spoiled. not that he'd freely admit it aloud, but that's okay 😇😇his bodily reactions do most of the speaking for him (if you pay attention closely, u can spot what he likes and what he really likes)

it's a bit weird at first, not doing anything as you take the reins in pleasuring him. (lbr he probably scoffed a bit at seeing you make doubly sure that he's comfy and cushioned before continuing) but after you get him to come once, then it's pretty much smooth sailing from there. and doesn't that feel so much better, jamil? to say that it feels good and to vocalize your pleasure? (which is a big plus when going down on him/fucking him from behind because his moans are a very good motivator.)

ig good luck when jamil outright praises you? like, it's already a treat getting to see/hear/feel him chasing his own pleasure so to add that (him hanging onto a semblance of coherence just for you) to the mix....it has definitely led to you overstimulating him from eagerness. it just feels like a rare thing idk. he kinda reads to me as someone who doesn't enjoy idle chatting much at the beginning of sex (unless it's dirty talk. in that case then: double down, don't let his embarrassment stop you.)

oH for sure, another thing that jamil needs is being able to have a point of contact with you. on your shoulder, around your wrist, atop your waist. it's the touch starvation it's so that he can stay grounded you know? you did have a tendency to get carried away (see above paragraph), so, there. the tangible proof of jamil viper's clinginess is found in the red scratch marks along your back and the bruises dotting your waist (not including the other marks he intentionally leaves on your person)

and since he's got acts of service as one of his main love languages ofc he'd make sure that u get off too dw no one's getting blueballed, he'll make sure that you both get to enjoy the happy hormones++top tier aftercare (in other words: ha. good luck sneaking away now that you've fucked out most of his self-consciousness, he will be shamelessly affectionate now.)

what happens when

ure averse to on-the-spot physical affection? no im not hinting at another spontaneous smut draft whatre u talking abt? ((sadly i cant just write pure pwp, im still In My Feelings so the thing might be hurt/comfort but if wcidfy ch 3 doesnt come out ill post that instead as a consolation HUHU))

#mdni #dellet-asides #ITS 3 AM WHERE I AM RN SO I CAN YELL INTO THE VOID #cant wait to be embarrassed looking at this when i wake up #whats the equivalent of a hangover for coffee #twst #reader x jamil viper #jamil viper pillow princess agenda

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solarisrasa · 1 year

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All I Could Bring Myself to Want is you pt 2

A Malec fic canon divergent from the moment Alec hands the Family Ring back to Maryse Lightwood.

Read it here on Ao3

Part One

The Jade Wolf almost looked reputable under Maia’s care. The walls were freshly painted and the menu was a lot broader than it used to be but Magnus was glad to see that he could still order dumplings.

He was reading over the various named dishes when a loud series of sounds drew his gaze to the kitchen doors.

“Maia!”

“-not welcome! Bat, stand down.”

Magnus stood, ready to help if needed. He’d spent the past week trying very hard to recapture the hedonist, devil-may-care self he’d been hiding behind before Alexander had pulled him out of his misery and it hadn’t worked. He was here now trying to rebuild connections with the people he cared for and if there was already a threat he was more than willing to face it.

Maia, curls held back with her usual headband and fire in her rapidly shifting eyes, stormed across the restaurant. Toward him.

“Maia-”

He was cut off by the Alpha spitting in his face. Literally.

“Get out.”

Magnus, shocked, wiped at his wet cheek and stared at her.

“Why?”

She sneered, “You come back from wherever the hell you’ve been, you don’t bother to tell anyone who’s been worried about you. You don’t even try to check in on Alec, and I could understand that, but you didn’t fucking get in touch with Izzy either. Then, you sleep with the first Shadowhunter you run across. It’s like you’re trying to finish the job.”

Magnus blinked and an odd sense of shame filled him. He knew the girl was a bad idea, knew it when he did it and doubly when he’d woken up to runed arms slung over him in his guest room. Because he hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of the bed he and Alexander had shared.

His confusion and loss must have shown on his face because Maia doesn’t demand he leave again, just stared him down with her searching eyes.

“I’ve not been entirely sane, I don’t believe.”

He didn’t mean to be that honest, but there was nothing else he could say.

Maia’s anger started to crack, he could see the concern that edged in, “Sit down Magnus. I think we need to talk.”

He sat. Maia sent Bat, who hovered until it was clear Maia wasn’t going to disembowel him, to put in a double order of dumplings.

“So.” Maia’s shoulders jerked toward him.

Magnus knew a cue to spill when he saw one.

“I was in Edom-”

“What?”

He started again, “I was in Edom. I was stuck there because the magic I used to close the rift in Alicante wouldn’t hold without me constantly refreshing it until I killed Lilith-”

“That was you? You closed the rift and killed a greater demon?”

Maia looked almost impressed and somehow still pissed.

“If you keep doing that I’m not going to tell you anything.” Magnus’ tone was mild and more fond than he cared to acknowledge. He’d missed her too.

“If you didn’t keep us all in the dark, granted it makes more sense now, I might say sorry.”

He huffed and kept going, “My point is I was stuck in Edom. I gained enough power to permanently close the rift and come back to New York. I was here for twenty minutes before I learned that the Shadow World here is getting cozier, which I applaud, and that Isabelle is somehow the head of the Institute now. The next day I learned from Catarina that she’d, in a misguided moment of friendship for me, done the warlock equivalent of blacklisting Alec.” The name stuck in his throat and he saw Maia wince, “So, yes, I went on a bit of a bender and made some particularly poor choices. I probably deserved your reaction and certainly deserve your anger.”

Maia reached for his hand and squeezed it firmly when he allowed her.

“I am definitely not happy with you, but I think there’s some things you should know too. First though, what do you think?”

She waved her hand around the building and Magnus smiled, “I think it looks great. I am glad that I will get to see what kind of Alpha you’ve become. I know it’s a strong one.”

Maia’s eyes softened and she gave him a small, more real smile. He cleared his throat as Bat set the dumplings on the table, looking relieved that they were still civil.

“I also think that biscuit’s going to get a big head about having a dish named after her.”

He scooped up a dumpling and made a happy sound as he bit into it. He swallowed quickly, magic helping keep him from scalding his throat, as he took in Maia’s desolate expression. He set the dumpling down, rings clinking against his plate, and straightened up.

“Maia. I think you’d better tell me what I need to know.”

“Clary’s uh, she...after the rift was sealed it wasn’t good here. Jonathon was cutting his way through Institutes and we needed to stop him. Clary went and she used one of her runes but I guess the Angel’s didn’t want her to do that anymore.” At Magnus’ look she explained further, “She made the Alliance rune. Izzy and Alec were trying to find something to deal with Jonathon but he was so strong and Clary started trying to make a new rune. It linked a Downworlder and a Shadowhunter temporarily, I was there and it was pretty neat but the Angel’s didn’t approve. They took her memories of the shadow world. She’s doing well I guess, at the art school. Jace goes to see her sometimes, glamoured. Izzy and Simon are trying to stop him but...I think he deserves some kind of happiness.”

Magnus slumped further in his chair, staring off to the side, “Oh, biscuit.”

“Yeah. Well, that’s like, the tip of the shit-burg. I probably shouldn’t be the one to tell you this but...I don’t think anyone else can handle it, not with all the other stuff they’re going to one to talk to you about.”

Magnus had so wanted to come and just enjoy reconnecting with a friend, and now there was more being dumped in his lamp. He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath, ignoring the return of the burning feeling in his chest. He opened his eyes and nodded.

“Maryse Lightwood is dead.”

He sucked a breath in as the burning feeling turned to solid ice and slid into his stomach. Maryse. They’d had a rocky past but the last time he saw her, smiling at him in her shop and so full of love and potential he’d been filled with love for the woman in return.

Maia took a shuddery breath, “I didn’t know her, but I saw what it did. Izzy got through, she’s strong and Simon was able to reach her. Jace, he’s rough but no one knows how much of that is just him and how much is Alec right now.”

The dumplings were going cold and Magnus pushed them away. If he had any less control he would’ve been sick. As it was he could feel the tears wetting his cheeks.

Maia reached for his hand again and he held on tight.

“How?”

He would kill someone if he needed to, though he figured her children, oh Lilith , had already done it.

Alec turned his arrow slowly in his hand, inspecting the runes running along the shaft. Beside him Jace was meticulously cleaning his blades, neither of them spoke. They were alone in the armory, as they were often alone anywhere now. Most of the others gave them a wide berth whenever possible, as though the sorrow that weighed on them was contagious.

The exceptions were, of course, Izzy and Simon.

In the rare moments he felt anything but the suffocating absence of Magnus and the grief for his mother, he felt guilty at how badly he was hindering Jace’s ability to heal. Moments like this.

He couldn’t close it off from their bond, it was all they really had left most days and neither of them could bear to hide anything anymore. Instead he felt Jace pause, heard him sigh, and then felt him continue his methodical motion over his seraph blade.

Alec knew, could feel, that Jace was hurting, for Clary and their mom and in his own way for Magnus too. He knew that it wasn’t all him, the deafening soundless drowning that lay between them. It was just, he could feel the feedback his pain had stuck them in. The times that Jace managed a laugh with Izzy or got enthusiastic training Simon that fizzled like electricity down their bond only to slam into the tidal wave that was Alec’s suffering.

His pain wasn’t greater than Jace’s exactly, but it was different. Jace knew where Clary was, knew she was safe and alive-

His thumb slipped where he was testing the arrowhead and a bead of blood welled up. Jace didn’t seem to notice and Alec watched the droplet trek over his palm. It felt good, almost. Pain made physical, something he could see, could comprehend with his senses.

Behind him Jace finished and strapped his weapons back to his legs.

Alec didn’t need to ask to know that they were going back out. It was the routine, not one Izzy was happy with, but it was theirs. Patrol, come back long enough to clean the worst of it off, go back out, wear out a stamina rune, sleep until Alec couldn’t and do it again. Sometimes Alec went alone, when Jace was needed for other things.

They headed into ops, Alec following Jace, his shadow. They moved silently enough that even other Shadowhunters didn’t notice them and Alec let Jace talk with Underhill, finding out where they might be needed next. He was zoning out, focusing on his breathing and pressing a fingernail into the sliver on his thumb when he heard it.

“...at Pandemonium. I went home with him! I didn’t know he was the Magnus Bane.”

His whole body turned toward the girl who was talking, one of the newer recruits from Idris with her friend. They were clearly just getting back from a patrol, chattering as they turned over their weapons.

He strode up to her, uncertain what his face was doing as it worked to keep up with the swell of hope, then confusion, then anger, and finally more despair that swept through him.

“What did you say?” His question came out harsh and she jumped, eyes blown wide.

He could see that she was afraid of him and made an effort to stop looming over her but didn’t back off.

“Oh, uh, I was just talking about going out clubbing on my night off. I thought it was allowed?”

Alec frowned, he could hear Izzy’s heels approaching, “No. About Magnus Bane.”

His voice wasn’t quiet and every Shadowhunter who’d been there a year ago, and many who had not, seemed to freeze in place, listening. Izzy’s steps faltered behind him and Jace’s hand gripped his shoulder.

“He-” The girl blushed, “I went home with him?”

Alec stumbled back and Jace made a noise like an animal in the back of his throat. The room blurred and Alec could hear Izzy taking control of the situation, sending the girl to her office to talk in a moment and re-focusing the others.

“-lec? Alec? C’mon buddy.” That was Jace, sounding frightening.

Alec pulled in a ragged breath, aware that he was pressed back to chest with his parabatai and his legs were shaking. Izzy was looking at him in concern, her cool hands pressed to his cheeks.

“I will find out if it’s true. Alec, I’ll find out if he’s back. I swear.” Izzy spoke quickly and looked at Jace, “Get him out of here.”

Izzy turned for her office and Jace manhandled Alec back to their now shared room. It was Jace’s old one, Alec’s had too many memories he couldn’t face and Jace hadn’t wanted to leave behind the memories in his.

Alec collapsed onto the bed, breathing harshly.

Magnus.

He was back. He was safe.

Maybe.

He was...sleeping with random Shadowhunters. Alec shuddered and told himself it didn’t matter, as long as he had his magic, as long as he was safe Magnus could be happy again and that was all that mattered.

Jace was humming, running a hand over Alec’s arm as he sat beside him.

He was overwhelmed, Alec could tell. Their closer connection meant that Jace could feel too well the renewed heartbreak that Alec was trying to bury. It was almost worse now, he had no time to prepare and no warning. It was like his mom all over again but this was Magnus.

Jace lay down behind him, curled an arm around him and just breathed with him.

Eventually the tremors faded and Alec drifted into an exhausted sleep.

“She’s not been to the shop. I’m worried about her.” Luke said, frowning around wolf fangs.

Alec could hear the screech of brakes and the sound of his mother screaming in the distance but he nodded along.

“We’d better start searching.”

The street bled into the sterile interior of the morgue, the sheet over his mother’s body. Another body next to hers.

“Gentleman. Thank you for coming. I am hoping that you won’t find who you’re looking for here but these are our only unidentified persons.” The man in the scrubs pulled back the first sheet.

Maryse Lightwood frowned up at Alec, “You’re hurting Jace. It would be easier if you broke the bond. Let him heal. Let everyone heal.”

Alec stumbled and Luke caught him, “It’s her. She’s right, Alec.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Yes you do.” A new voice. Alec turned to the second table, Magnus was standing next to it, fingers bunched into the sheet. The girl from Idris was pressed against his side and he watched as other’s, strangers, appeared, running their hands over Magnus’ shoulders and chest.

“You had the answer at Max’s rune ceremony.”

Magnus pulls the sheet off without his usual flourish and Alec stares at his own face. His body is naked and cold, the betrayer mark stark where it sits beneath the stitches on his chest.

“How hard could it be Alexander? Just, don’t watch your six when you patrol alone.”

He looks into Magnus’ golden eyes and he nods.

The knock on their door pulled Alec from the vestiges of his dream and he felt Jace sit up behind him.

“Yeah?” Jace called, voice deepened with sleep.

Izzy opened the door and smiled a little at them, “I came by earlier but you guys need the rest. I have some answers.”

Alec pushed himself up as Jace stretched, cracking his back loudly.

“So, Meredith was right. Magnus is back. I talked to Maia and Catarina. Maia didn’t know but Catarina said he’d been back for a few days. She said that he probably needed some time to adjust before he really made it known.”

Jace scoffed, “From the sound of it he’s adjusted just fine.”

Alec didn’t have the energy to cringe, but he still twitched in discomfort.

Izzy levelled an unimpressed stare, “I don’t think so. From what Catarina said I’d say he’s making shitty choices because he’s trying not to give himself time to think. I found out what happened to him.”

She paused and Alec felt his heart in his throat, shifting forward on the bed. It was only knowing that she was going to tell him that stopped him from grabbing her and making demands.

“He closed the rift over Alicante. I don’t know all the specifics but, he had to do it from Edom and was stuck there until he could permanently close it.”

Alec braced his elbows on his knees and clenched his hands together, thumb digging into his hand. Jace finally settled beside him. Edom. They’d left Magnus to Edom for a year.

“That’s….holy shit. That’s badass.” Jace sounded impressed, tired, but impressed.

Alec gritted his teeth until it hurt as Izzy continued, “Yeah. He also banished his father to limbo so that’s not a problem anymore.”

She gave Alec a pointed look.

“Izzy. We left him in actual hell after I broke his heart. We left him there for a year. I don’t think there’s a way to fix that.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Jace cut her off, “If Magnus was in Idris, why didn’t the clave say anything?”

“It was a mess. There was no time.”

Alec didn’t like where this was going but he had to add, “Not that day, but after. They’re tracking all activity in and out of Idris now. After Valentine.”

Izzy shrugged, “How could they have known? All those demons had to be sending everything haywire.”

Jace leaned forward, “But a warlock’s portal? That has a different signature and everything is catalogued so even if no one was monitoring it, they would’ve caught it later. That day’s been reviewed thoroughly. They were trying to find out how the rift was closed, there’s no way no one noticed.”

With a growing dread Alec looked between them, “You think the clave covered it up. Why?”

“The type of power, they probably didn’t want it to get out that a warlock could wield enough power to close a rift to a hell realm like that. That’s why they were so adamant we find Magnus, they had to have guessed it was him. They’re probably freaked out that he could open it again.” Izzy shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t like this. Not just because we could’ve helped Magnus, this whole time we could’ve helped. The clave has been asking more questions about the Downworld deputies and the dual team patrols. I hoped it was because they were starting to come around but I’m afraid it might be worse.”

Alec held up his hand, “I don’t know how to deal with that right now. Until we know why they’re asking questions and what they hope to achieve there’s nothing we can do against it. I can’t really investigate, you know they’re still angry that I stepped down and still managed to bring the Downworlders into the fold here. I just…” He swallowed compulsively, “I think we have to talk to Magnus on this one. You’re going to want to call a meeting with him.”

Izzy looked between Alec and Jace, “I will. But not yet. He still needs time and...so do you. Rest if you can, I’m going to see what I can dig up.”

She pressed her hands to both of their arms and left them.

“Alec?”

“Jace.”

“You holding it together?”

“Are you?”

“I can hold a sword.”

“I thought it would get better once he came back. I thought if I could just, see-” He cut off with a deep breath, clenching his hands together until his bones ached.

“I hoped so too. Maybe it will, but this is all a lot more than we thought it would be.”

“Yeah. It is.” Alec forced himself to let go, “Let’s pick up a patrol. Clary’s exhibit is the day after tomorrow, I’ll stay in if we can take one now and one tomorrow.”

He’d made that promise before, that he wouldn’t go alone when Jace was training Simon, or watching over Clary, or helping Izzy. He had yet to keep it, but Jace didn’t hold it against him and Alec was grateful.

“Alright. Underhill said there was pretty heavy activity cropping up, we might get lucky and get a real workout.”

“Good.”

Magnus didn’t think he’d ever miss walking around a city. He’d spent such a small, awful, amount of time without his magic and yet he’d thought he’d never pass up the opportunity to use a portal when it was just him again.

Now he was somewhat aimless as he walked. He’s been aimless since leaving the Jade Wolf and it was reminiscent of what he’d done after Alexander left him. It’s decidedly different in that he wasn’t homeless this time, he had somewhere to sleep when he was bored of it.

He was still hurting over Alexander but also for him and his siblings. Maryse had not been the greatest mother, by turns too harsh and distant or too invested in their lives but she learned from her mistakes and she was their mother . Even without her death coming on the heels of Clary’s memory loss Magnus couldn’t imagine what it was like for the Lightwood siblings.

He didn’t know if he was unintentionally following the thread of demonic energy or if it was just his luck tonight but the snarling of demons pulled him from his thoughts. There were familiar sounds of battle under them and he sighed at himself, more Shadowhunters.

He summoned the glow of his power to his fingertips and headed to join them. Several demons were blasted aside before he saw them.

Jace was fluid motion with his blades, cutting down the enemy and holding a line while Alexander fired off arrows. The fletching grazed Jace’s cheek even as Magnus watched and the blonde didn’t flinch as the demon behind the one he was stabbing went down. There were too many of them to maintain the strategy though and Magnus watched them move past Jace.

Without a signal of any kind Jace threw his blade to Alexander without looking and Alexander caught it in his free hand, stabbing through the nearest demon. He slashed the next one and ducked under his bow to free his other hand and grab his own blade. Jace’s hand moved to catch at the same instant Alexander tossed his seraph blade back.

It was synergy in perfection. They moved and breathed like they were one thought, more in sync than he’d ever seen them, and Magnus hardly noticed the demons he was incinerating as he approached them.

Alexander.

Jace looked much the same, more tired around his eyes maybe and Magnus could see there was something shuttered about his spirit. Alexander, on the other hand, was thinner than before, the light layer of healthy weight that he’d had (and Magnus had shamelessly contributed to) was gone. He was still obviously strong but it didn’t look like he’d had a real meal and a day's rest in the year since Magnus had been gone.

That wasn't the most startling change though. As the fighting wound down and Alexander wiped Ichor off his cheek Magnus realized what he’d taken for blood and shadow was a rune scrawling up Alexander’s face. It was echoed on the other side.

Jace caught sight of him and his expression flickered before steeling into resolve and nodded at him. With that Magnus stopped holding back and let his magic flare bright, burning the demons that were left to nothing.

As the light faded he turned back to the parabatai and his breath caught in his lungs. Alexander was staring at him.

“Magnus.”

His name was barely a whisper but it reached inside of him and tore out what was left of his heart. If he’d been able to move he’d have sunk to his knees at the sound alone.

Alexander walked toward him slowly, face guarded and Magnus wanted both to cry and to laugh. He never wanted Alexander to look at him like that and yet, what right did he have? He’d shattered Magnus so completely that he’d been prepared to turn to stone in Edom, unmoving and uncaring of his own imprisonment there.

Jace reached Magnus first.

“Please. Magnus, talk to him. Come back with us...or we’ll come home with you, but just, please.”

Jace’s voice was soft, desperate and Magnus really looked at him then.

He was exhausted, not just in the circles under his eyes but in his soul. The hand that pressed to his arm in askance wasn’t as steady as he had come to expect from Jace and the longer his silence went the shakier it became.

“Magnus.” Alexander repeated his name, standing closer and looking at him with hazel eyes. Magnus couldn’t look away. There was so much pain and so much guilt in Alexander.

Finally he nodded, “Yes. Come home with me.”

He summoned a portal and watched as Jace gently took Alexander’s arm and led him unsteadily through before he followed.

It snapped shut when they were through, leaving the three of them in the living room.

“You should get cleaned up, then we can talk.”

Magnus’ voice was soft as he watched Alexander shift like he wanted to bolt in what had nearly been his home. He closed his eyes for a second, unable to bear the squeeze in his chest for a moment.

“Sure. C’mon buddy.”

“Some of your things...some of your things came back when I put the loft back to rights before I left. Feel free to them, they are yours after all.” Magnus opened his eyes again to see Jace nod and Alexander already out of sight.

He sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. A moment later Jace called his name.

“Yes?” He replied, moving toward them.

“Do you have any cream we can use for this?”

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Jace I can’t see you. What do you need-”

He pushed open the door to his bathroom and stared.

Alexander’s shirt was off and there were more runes than skin now, iratzes and stamina runes almost overlapping with more runes than Magnus even recognized and centered over his heart, angry red, was the betrayer mark.

He tore his gaze away to meet Alexander’s eyes and swallowed hard.

They had well and truly ruined one another.

Part three

#All I want 2 #Malec #Shadowhunters #Fanfiction #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #Jace wayland #Maia Roberts #All I Want

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years

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Yuu can do it!

What if all three Yuus (from the novel, manga, and game) were sent to the same world?

Part 1

It wasn’t particularly uncommon for Kuroki Yuuya to wake up feeling slightly squished. After all, his bed was piled high with pillows and stuffed animals. Sometimes he moved too much while he slept and found himself buried under them come morning time.

He sighed to himself, moving his arm to clear them away so he could check the time, but his elbow hit something slightly squishy before he could even try.

Something that gave a tiny groan of surprise.

Yuuya frowned to himself, his half-awake mind scrambling to make sense of whatever was going on.

Then: “What the –? Did I –?” A guy groaned. “Mom’s going to kill me.”

Yuuya tried to jerk back in surprise, only to hit a plush wall immediately. “Ow!”

“Are you okay?” A new voice said, a cold hand touching his nose for some reason. Probably because it was dark.

“Two people?!” The first voice said before he could answer.

“Oh, honey, you wish,” the other person laughed. “I don’t need to see you to know you’re not my type.”

“Okay, then… what’s going on?”

“Oh. We had to have been kidnapped,” they said, remarkably calm.

Which was why the squeak in Yuuya’s voice was doubly embarrassing when he said, “Kidnapped?!”

The hand was back, ghosting over his face as if searching for something before coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s cool, don’t worry about it, at least two people in my school get kidnapped a semester –.”

“What?!” He gasped.

They ignored him. “– so, I know how to deal with this, there was an assembly at the beginning of the year. Okay, alright… since there’s at least three of us, we might be strong enough to get this, um, box-thing open.”

There was a general murmur of dissent, but they weren’t even given enough time to figure out how to move in the cramped space, let alone find leverage to force their way out, before a new problem arose:

“... is it… getting hot in here?” The male voice said carefully.

As much as Yuuya wanted this to be a terrible pickup line (which was not at all), it was not to be. Because, only mere seconds later the box was blasted open. Blue flames licked at Yuuya’s clothes as he fell out. A large hand reached out, his mind supplied the words do not let go of that hand! in a voice Yuuya did not know, but it fell short by mere centimeters – he could feel the air rush past his face – and he went tumbling to the floor.

Before he could shake the shining lights from his vision, a face filled it. He blinked up at the person in front of him. Curly black hair fell around their face, blocking out what little peripheral vision he might have had. Their dark brown eyes were narrowed just slightly with worry.

Yuuya gave a slightly nervous smile. “Hi. Sorry. I’m fine.”

Their shoulders untensed and they drew back, finally allowing Yuuya to take in the scene… and he promptly wished that he could go back to not seeing. The stone room was rather dungeon-like… though maybe it was only meant to house the elite, because it was lavishly decorated with a gorgeous chandelier and an ornate mirror positioned in the middle of the room. The windows were barred with wrought iron weaved into intricate shapes and there were patterns carved into the floor that he couldn’t even begin to make sense of.

Maybe Yuuya might have thought it cool if he hadn’t been virtually kidnapped to get there.

Oh, and the floating coffins that were dotted around the room definitely didn’t help.

“Oh god… we’re dead,” Yuuya said, his voice almost jarring against the delicate crackle of green flames from the torches on the walls.

“Well, we were all crammed in that one coffin. I really hope the afterlife isn’t that disorganized,” the other guy said. He was tall and broad, enough so that he might have been mistaken for an adult, if it weren’t for the rather unfortunate case of ‘baby face syndrome’ he was suffering from. Speaking of, said ‘baby face’ screwed up thoughtfully as he murmured, “But I guess that explains the little fire demon.”

“Fire demon?!” Yuuya echoed.

He pointed to the coffin they had fallen out of and Yuuya found what seemed to be a tanuki of some sort, though the blue fire sprouting from its ears and the pitchfork-shaped tail was definitely new.

The tanuki snapped out of its shock. “Why were there three of you in there?”

“No clue, actually,” said the dark-skinned (girl? guy? He couldn’t tell), adjusting the way they sat so they were positioned between the tanuki and Yuuya. “Hell, we don’t know where we are.”

The tanuki laughed, though Yuuya wasn’t sure if it was disbelieving or purely spiteful. “Well, if you don’t know where you are, then you wouldn’t mind handing your clothes over to The Great Lord Grim, yes?”

“My clothes?!” Yuuya was beginning to feel like a parrot. “I’m wearing these!”

‘The Great Lord Grim’ – was that an official title? – scoffed as much as an animal could. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

The unknown guy crossed his arms over his chest protectively. “We got these clothes randomly, maybe you can get some, too?”

Got these clothes? Yuuya thought, only to look down and realize he was in the same intricate black robe. Purple and gold accents laced every fold and, as he ran a hand over the soft fabric, Yuuya couldn’t help but think that a square centimeter of it had to cost more than he would ever earn.

“I’ve already done my waiting,” Grim said, sounding like a petulant toddler. Which might have been correct, Yuuya couldn’t tell how old the tanuki was. It had to be young, though, because tears were quickly misting his neon blue eyes as he continued to complain: “The carriage didn’t come for me! So, I’ve decided to come to the carriage!”

A hand wrapped around his wrist and Yuuya looked over to see the person gently tugging at his arm and jerking their head to the side. “Quick, while it’s distracted,” they mouthed.

“But they won’t accept me if I don’t look the part,” Grim said. “So… your clothes. Give me them!”

“Listen, you’re a cat… maybe,” the guy said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture as they inched backwards towards the door. “Maybe they’ll overlook the whole ‘not having clothes’ thing. Besides, there’s no way any of our clothes will fit you. You, like, maybe reach our waists.”

Grim narrowed his eyes at them. “If you’re not going to get out of the clothes yourself… then I suppose I’ll have to roast you out of them!” The tanuki decided.

The person gave up on subtlety, jerking Yuuya by the arm so hard he thought it might just pop out of its socket.

But, it turns out, the suddenness was a good thing. It saved him from getting a fireball to the face.

They continued to drag him along by his wrist, forcing lead-filled legs to move as Yuuya stumbled along behind them, struggling to catch his footing because he almost died.

“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome,” the other guy said, sliding into place beside Yuuya and grabbing ahold of his sleeve to help pull him along. “Let’s find an exit. There’s gotta be one somewhere.”

“Think if we go in one direction long enough we’ll find one?”

No one had a better idea, so that was what they went with.

The clacking of their shoes against the floors was ungodly loud, which surely wasn’t helping them get away from Grim, but they couldn’t stop long enough to tug them off. So, they continued running, the clicks of their heels bouncing off the walls and disturbing the little movie screens on the wall into shouting complaints.

(If he was more aware of what was going on, he might have thought that weird. However, he was a little busy making sure he didn’t faceplant and bring his newfound comrades down with him.)

Yuuya looked around frantically. The hallways were made of a lighter-colored stone, making it feel less like a dungeon and more like a very old school. It made running through the halls seem much more terrible, even if it was to avoid the fireballs Grim sent their way.

But, somehow, the murder attempts ended up helping them, because it drew Yuuya’s eyes to a window. Cerulean flames licked at the drapes but, somehow, this wasn’t what drew his attention. It was the fact that they were definitely not on the ground floor.

“Stairs! We need stairs!” He said through pants. Why were these two people so much faster than him?

At least the person holding his wrist seemed to be losing steam. They nodded wordlessly and cast their eyes around before pointing to a large entryway. “There, maybe?”

Unfortunately, this was wrong. They ended up running into a library at top speed. This, normally, would have been a no-no, but no one was there to shush them.

Actually, now that he thought about it, where was everyone? Some help would have been real nice right about then. Because, for some reason, he didn’t know what to do when a tanuki that spat fire decided it wanted his clothes.

Sarcasm aside, the library was about as good a place to hide as any (were those books floating?!).

“We need to stop, this guy isn’t gonna make it,” the guy said, as if reading his mind. Or, maybe, he simply had functioning ears; Yuuya was wheezing hard enough to put out a bonfire.

The three of them ducked behind a bookcase without another word. The person let go of him in favor of covering his mouth with their hand to stifle his breathing.

The library, as all libraries should be, was silent for a couple of glorious moments.

And then the tanuki rounded the corner and grinned widely at them, showing off razor-sharp teeth.

The guy’s shoulders tensed, and he looked about ready to throw himself at Grim, but then…

Someone yelled out: “Whip of love!”

Yuuya had just enough time to think what?! before something wrapped around the tanuki. It was only able to give a single cry of surprise before its mouth was covered by the black tendrils. It was tugged into waiting arms, which trapped it almost as effectively as the ‘whip’ had.

Yuuya followed the arms up to find a man in a bird-themed suit. From the golden claws that distorted otherwise nice hands, to the feathered cloak in the shape of a set of wings, to the plague-doctor style that decorated his face, the man embodied a crow. But, really, the thing that reminded him the most of that specific type of bird was the man’s eyes, for they held an inhuman intelligence that made his skin crawl. They were orbs of light, yes, and therefore he couldn’t be an average person, but there was also this kind of unsettling feeling when you looked at him – as if you were being watched back.

He cast his gaze over the odd group, fixing those pinpricks of light on each of them in turn, before sighing. “Well, this is unordinary.”

~~~

(Link to next)

#listen #idk #if you know who i am outside of this no you don't #anyways ive seen a lot of younger sibling!yuu #so i present to you older sibling!yuu #as well as younger sibling yuuya and middle child yuuken #kuroki yuuya #enma yuuken #yuu #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #not gonna tag this properly #im tired #if someone finds this then they find it idc #yuu can do it!

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willwriteforhugs · 3 years

Text

you saved me- park seonghwa

seonghwa x reader - one shot !

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, meet-cute

synopsis: a busy and cold winter day leads you to a (very close) brush with death. but a stranger seems to be in just the right place at just the right time...

warnings: mentions of loneliness, near car accident (nothing too serious)

a/n:

me as i open tumblr with the intent of actually posting for once: god i need to go post something so i feel less bad about being alive

so, anyways. first seonghwa fic- which is really just a long drabble. i always knew i wanted a seonghwa meet-cute, and this idea just seemed to suit him... please remember that this is for entertainment purposes only, though, so be respectful! (also, ^^^THIS genre of seonghwa pic, with the grainy filter and the tan...bruh...)

anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always- thank you for reading :)

- - -

your breath comes out in short, angry puffs, which you can see reflected in the cold afternoon air. the temperature in seoul is absolutely freezing, and you are not dressed for it. when you had left for work this morning, (in your standard sweater + jeans combo) you clearly were not anticipating that the sky would dump snow all day long. you long desperately for your warm winter coat.

so now, here you are: jogging, but only as quickly as you feel is safe in this weather. your condo is only a few blocks down- hence why you had walked in the first place, and why you hadn’t brought cash to pay for a bus. but god, the cold is just piercing.

the streets are practically empty, because of the terrible weather. so, at the very least, you are spared the embarrassment of having to waddle awkwardly on the ice in front of others.

but, to add to the stress- your day had seriously not gone as planned.

when you first took it, you thought that the simple receptionist job would be easy- and doubly so with the convenient location. but these past few weeks were proving you wrong, today especially. while being distracted by coworkers, you accidentally put an important client on a somewhat permanent hold, and ruined a potential sale. as if that wasn’t enough, the next call you routed to a completely different office by mistake, earning you a strict talking to by the supervisor.

so, to put it plainly: you were tired, annoyed, and cold. so. freaking. cold.

heaving a sigh, you continue your jog/waddle towards your street corner, which is two intersections away. faintly, you can hear a city bus approaching, the one that always stops near your work building. from where you are standing, the bus will be driving perpendicular to you, and you cock your head in thought. you don’t need the shuttle itself, since you live so close, but you wonder how close the bus is now...

feeling a sudden burst of energy, you speed up a bit, challenging yourself to beat the bus to the empty corner, even though you know it won’t stop there. this is something you do often- set up little games for yourself. it’s mostly an attempt to stay busy, but- though you’d never admit it, it helps with the loneliness too. when you race against the clock (say, to make a speedrun to the copy room at work) it almost feels like you are competing against an old friend.

you obviously know that you can’t beat the bus, but the thought itself is entertaining, so you throw caution to the wind. your feet slap the pavement as you run, and you hear yourself laugh a little. the cold air rushing by your cheeks helps distract you from your own thoughts.

you sprint through an empty intersection, and as you approach the final corner- having obviously lost the race to the bus- you begin to slow down a bit. but as you near the end of the sidewalk, (which is parallel to the moving bus, whose hulking body is getting ready to pass you) you feel your previous momentum get the better of you.

you stumble off of the curb- and right into a vicious patch of ice on the waiting asphalt.

it happens in slow motion: your feet slide harshly backwards, and you scramble for any traction- but to no avail. you hear yourself cry out as you fall forward, right into the path of the oncoming shuttle.

you slam your eyes shut.

but instead of hitting the ground, or the bus, a sudden weight catches you around your middle and lurches backwards. you scream again, certain you’ve already died.

you hear the sound of the bus honking as it speeds by- the only thing traveling faster than it is your frantic pulse.

you hit the ground hard, with all of your weight on your left shoulder and hip. even so, you start with the relief of knowing the bus didn’t even graze you.

only after a moment do you realize why it hadn’t.

someone had caught you.

grabbed you from behind, and used their whole body weight to get the two of you to safety.

you lurch forward, startled. as you turn around, you see him lying on the ground, in the same position you were in just seconds before- and you meet the eyes of the person who’d just saved you.

it’s a man- a young one. and good god, he’s beautiful, too. the boy on the ground before you is seriously the epitome of korean beauty- large, dark eyes, an open face, and full lips. as soon as he opens his mouth, you wonder at how his teeth could possibly be so perfect.

it takes you a moment of staring before you realize he’s speaking to you.

“um.” your voice breaks. “what?”

the boy scrambles onto his knees, shuffling towards you. “i asked if you’re alright- are you hurt?” his voice is concerned, and his hands flutter about your face- too wary to touch you, but clearly wanting to.

his eyes are more genuine than you can even take in, and you hesitate at the whole scene- what the hell is happening? did you hit your head?

you stutter, trying to make sense of the situation. the boy leans back on his heels as you finally catch your breath.

your words are breathy, but deliberate. “you- you saved me.”

the boy tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “yes, i suppose i did.” a beat passes before he continues. his eyes, though now bordering on playful, still look worried. “you probably shouldn’t be running in this sort of weather.”

you heave a sigh that comes out in a laugh. “yeah, i realize that now.”

your counterpart picks himself up off the ground, brushing off his front. he then extends a hand towards you. you stare at it for a moment, confused. for a moment, he looks down at you intently, waiting. your puzzlement passes, and you blush as you cautiously place your palm in his, allowing him to help you up.

“i’m seonghwa, by the way. park seonghwa.” the man- no, seonghwa looks down at you, letting his sentence hang.

you clear your throat, feeling a harsh wave of embarrassment at the situation. “um- i’m y/n.”

seonghwa nods at you, taking a step back. his brow is furrowed. “well, y/n-ssi- you didn’t actually tell me if you were hurt or not. do you feel dizzy? nauseous?”

you throw your hands up in protest, not wanting to cause any more distress than you already had. “no, uh- i’m fine, really. maybe a little bruised, but i’m okay. i think it would be a bigger problem if you were hurt...”

you are not exaggerating- you can only imagine the guilt you would feel if he’d been injured.

seonghwa represses a smile. “i’m alright too. you did startle me, though. thought i was about to witness something pretty terrible...”

at this, you give a surprised chuckle. “yeah, i’m so sorry...you really came out of nowhere, huh? i seriously didn’t even know you were there until i was on the ground!”

this time, it’s his turn to laugh. “yeah, those bus stops provide great cover.”

the two of you settle into a stiff silence, and you can practically hear your heart pounding- both with leftover adrenaline, as well as the sudden nerves that seonghwa was giving you.

“here,” he says, breaking the quiet. “take this.” he shrugs off his long winter coat, and before you can argue, he’s reached over and settled it on your shoulders. the relief is near instantaneous, but you find yourself a bit too tongue-tied to thank him.

you sigh again, determined to get the words out. “oh, god, i really am so sorry about that, um-” you stutter. “i really should thank you, for the coat. but also-” you take a deep breath. “thank you, park seonghwa, for saving my life.”

at this, the man actually blushes. he reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “no, really, it was just a gut reaction...”

you shake your head, insistent. “it doesn’t matter. i could have died, but you prevented that. now-” you can feel yourself gaining confidence. “what can i do to repay you?”

seonghwa’s face, which had previously harbored a look of child-like innocence, suddenly turns mischievous.

you tilt your head, indicating an answer.

his smug smile is full now, chin tilted upwards. “i actually do have a request.”

“okay, shoot.”

“you’ll do anything i ask?”

you frown, narrowing your eyes in an almost flirtatious way. “i suppose i have a few limits...”

to your surprise, seonghwa interrupts you, eyes twinkling. “you’ll repay me- by allowing me to take you out on a date, y/n.”

your mind goes fully blank for a moment.

...huh?

you blink in shock, not being able to suppress your initial reaction. “wait, come again?”

“will you go on a date with me?”

you stare at him- this terrifyingly beautiful man was asking you on a date? after you’d fully humiliated yourself in front of him? what on earth?

suddenly, before you can even finish the thought, you find yourself nodding. “i suppose i can arrange that.”

seonghwa’s smile is completely smug at this point. “does tonight work?”

you bite your lip, heart pounding despite the chilly weather. your voice comes out in a whisper: “yes, i suppose tonight works.”

seonghwa tries to bury his smile and looks at the ground. “that’s great.” he pauses, allowing his gaze to flit back to you. “do you- i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you want me to walk you home?”

you smile, but shake your head. “it’s alright, i live close. here- i’ll give you my number, though.”

you dig through your work satchel for a piece of paper and scribble your phone number on it. when you extend it, he accepts the slip, still trying to suppress his grin.

a beat passes, and the two of you look at each other intently.

and with that, seonghwa reaches down and gently takes your hand, glancing at your face to make sure the action is alright with you. when you don’t pull away, he lifts it up and presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, holding your gaze the entire time. his lips are cold, an unlikely and romantic nod to the temperature.

you feel your neck and cheeks go red, but you smile in an attempt to seem casual. “thanks again, seonghwa. for helping me.”

“of course.” the man’s eyes are twinkling again. “as grim as it sounds, i’m sort of glad it happened. if it hadn’t, i probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”

you smirk in what you hope is a flirtatious manner.

“well,” he continues. “don’t let me keep you. after all, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

seonghwa begins to walk away, then turns back. “although,” he calls over his shoulder. “i’m pretty sure the guy you’re meeting with won’t care what you’re wearing. you could probably show up in your pajamas and he’d still think you were gorgeous. just for the record.”

before you could manage an answer, he turns on his heel and strides away- but even from here, you can tell he still has a goofy grin plastered on his face.

heart pounding, you turn and make your way towards your apartment building.

despite yourself, you also can’t seem to keep the grin off of your face.

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

If you’re still taking requests: I read a headcanons where chocolate is native to Lorule and Hyrule has little to none, so what if Legend introduces hot chocolate to the boys? (He gets it from Ravio)

I am so weak for domestic Ravio and Legend, oh gosh!

This ended up only being the first half of your request, anon, but the second part is in the works! I just... felt that this would be a good ending for this part. Hate me later!

Ao3 for when I write Part 2

Part 2

Mr. Hero loves his apples.

It’s clear when he looks out the window to see the other boy standing beneath his trees, singing softly and carefully tending the tree in the orchard, a warm look in his eyes and none of the usual lines crossing his face. Mr. Hero told him once that he’d been tending the orchard since he was a small child, and that the apples there even have healing properties as a result of being tended so faithfully. There was a time when he doubted that, but he’d changed his mind the first time Mr. Hero had made him some cider.

Fruit was a rarity in Lorule, the trees withered and the plants died, and any sweet thing was turned bitter as their world crumbled. Ravio had never tasted an apple before coming to Hyrule, and the first time Mr. Hero had offered him one (the first morning they woke up in the same house) he’d strained his jaw in trying to eat it and had been utterly shocked by the taste.

He didn’t like how hard they were to chew, and the skin on the outside bothered him, so he politely declined the next time Mr. Hero offered him one of the apples he kept in a bowl on the kitchen table.

But then came a night when Mr. Hero had come trudging in through the door, soaked to the skin as thunder rumbled outside. Puddles dripped over the floor and wet leather squelched with every step as Mr. Hero trudged into the house.

Dark bags ringed Mr. Hero’s violet eyes, his rose-gold hair dripping with rainwater and speckled with blood and mud both, tunics drenched and sopping and not even the light cloak he wore doing a thing to protect him from the raging storm he had just emerged from.

“Mr. Hero!” Ravio’s eyes had darted up from one of the items he’d been repairing, worry flickering in their depths as he peered out from beneath his hood at the other boy. “You’re soaked!”

Mr. Hero hadn’t answered, only snorted in a way that might have been a sneeze, casting off his cloak as he did so and dropping it in a corner where Ravio quickly scurried to pick it up.

Honestly, it was a blessing to Mr. Hero that he’d come here! The house was an utter mess half of the time!

Boots squelched their way to the kitchen as Ravio wrung the dripping cloak out into a bucket he’d been using for moping earlier that evening, and he silently bemoaned the fact that there was yet again mud trailing across the floors he’d only just made clean again. He’d almost scolded his housemate, only to startle and jump at the sound of clattering from the cellar which was then followed by something of a ruckus in the kitchen.

Green eyes and dark hair had peered warily around the corner to find Mr. Hero seated at the kitchen table and pulling off his boots with an exhausted expression on his face. Puddles and mud dripped across the floor and towards the door leading down into the basement, but the boots were coming off and there wasn’t a mess of dishes spread across the floor or anything.

In fact, the only difference, besides the dirt, was a mug perched on the table and a kettle bubbling merrily over the kitchen fire, a sweet smell drifting through the air that made Ravio’s nose twitch and shiver with delight and curiosity both.

He hadn’t spoken as Mr. Hero had trod about the kitchen with wet socks and stumbling steps, gathering things from the shelves and measuring different sweet-smelling spices into a cup. But when the kettle had whistled and the smell in the air had been joined with the sound of bubbling sweet something, Ravio had caved.

“What are you doing, Mr. Hero?”

“Making cider.” Mr. Hero responded, voice weary and heavy as stiff fingers had mitted themselves with a spare dishtowel to remove the whistling appliance from the open flames and pour its contents into an earthen mug. Steaming golden liquid had poured from the iron kettle into the cup, and as violet eyes darted his way, a second mug was produced and similarly filled.

Ravio moved slowly around the doorframe into the kitchen, head cocked to one side as he watched Mr. Hero's nimble, yet stiff, fingers fly across the things spread across the counter, and before he knew it there was a warm mug being deposited into his hand as his housemate walked past him.

Surprise had sparked in his mind at the comforting warmth of the drink in his hands, and his eyes had trailed after the pink-haired hylian as Mr. Hero had stalked over to the fire, pulling down a monstrously bulky quilt from a shelf and curling up before the raging fire with his mug held tight in his trembling fingers.

Cautious, the bunny merchant hadn’t dared touch the contents of his cup; he’d been poisoned before, and while it smelled utterly delectable, he resisted until he saw Mr. Hero take a drink first. It’s not that he distrusted the other boy, but he knew better than to actually trust him yet. They were both relying on each other for something, depending on the other to provide what they needed to solve a mutual problem. Their relationship was as business partners, nothing more, and Ravio knew better than to trust most business folk.

But then he’d watched the shivers die as Mr. Hero nursed his cup slowly, eyes drooping further as they blinked sleepily, a soft squeaky yawn breaking the silence as the hylian had settled his empty mug on the carpet and promptly proceeded to doze off where he sat.

Ravio shook his head, setting down his own mug and gathering a few pillows from the couch to prop around the hero. It wouldn’t do to have the single person who could save the both of their countries running around with a crick in his neck and pains in his back, now would it? (Ravio hadn’t known at the time that that was just what Mr. Hero did on the regular, but he’d learned as much later and it made him doubly glad that he had done something).

With Mr. Hero soundly asleep, with not even the rumbling thunder outside doing anything to wake him, the merchant had turned his attention back to the sweet-smelling substance in the mug he’d been handed.

Something golden warm and almost clear sloshed in the earthenware mug, bits of spice and a stick of cinnamon clinking about inside as he swirled it around. It smelled delectable, like nothing he’d ever had the chance to smell before, and he’d hesitantly lifted it to his face to breath in the warm steam.

A sigh escaped him as the smell washed over him, and entirely on impulse, Ravio took a sip.

Sweet and savory nectar, tasting faintly of apple yet warm and smooth and entirely too delightful to be possible sparked across his tongue and made him start in surprise, before humming in pleasure and settling where he stood.

Never before, nor since, had he tasted anything so delectable as apple cider.

Mr. Hero came back time and again, dusted in snow or sodden and wet, or simply wounded and exhausted, and every time, his first priority was to stalk into the cellar, bustle in the kitchen, and emerge with a mug in either hand, one which he deposited in Ravio’s delighted fingers while the other was taken to where the veteran hero had settled beside the fire. Mr. Hero would sip on the sider, wrapped tight in a blanket and watching the flames, and would drift off entirely after finishing his mug.

Ravio would sigh and shake his head, setting aside his own partially finished drink in order to clean and bandage wounds and tuck the blanket tighter round his companion, making sure that Mr. Hero lay in a way that wouldn’t hurt his back, before returning to whatever he’d been doing, a mug of cider nestled in his grasp as he worked, a satisfied smile on his face.

But then there had come an evening where Mr. Hero had trudged through the door only to collapse in the entryway. Eyes rolling back as Ravio had squeaked in alarm, all but flying to his housemate’s side and struggling to pull the other boy upright again to help drag him to the couch.

Shivers and coughs broke the still silence as he’d bandaged a stab wound, and when Mr. Hero’s tired volet eyes had blinked awake again, Ravio was perched at his side with a worried frown playing over his face.

Mr. Hero couldn’t see it, but he was worried, terribly so.

Maybe it was the cider, maybe it was the house, maybe it was the light banter between the two, but he’d been coming to see his doppelganger as something a bit more than a business partner, and seeing the other boy lying weak and drained on the couch made his heart twist and clench with worry.

He’d had to all but force Mr. Hero to take a break, but had come to the horrid realization that the other boy was entirely incapable of actually making himself sleep.

“I have to be ready to move.” Mr. Hero had scowled across the room, eyes resting on the sword Ravio had leaned against the wall. “You can’t rest out there safely, and I can’t sleep anyways so what’s the use?”

Stubby fingers had fiddled with his scarf as he’d stared in shock and concern at his maybe-friend.

“But you always sleep fine when you’re here! It’s safe, you’re warm, what on earth could be keeping you awake?”

And violet eyes had avoided his own, shoulders rising as shuddering breaths had grown harsher, and Ravio found pity springing up where he never thought it would again as he stared at his housemate.

“I suf- I deal with insomnia. I can’t sleep most days. When I do sleep it’s...” Mr. Hero’s long fingers ran through his bedraggled pink hair in an irritated manner. “I have nightmares.” Mr. Hero’s voice dropped low and soft, barely above a whisper as he’d curled up on the couch. “And I don’t want to see those right now.”

“You need to relax. You’re sick.” Ravio had stated softly, worrying his lip between his teeth and watching Mr. Hero nod in acceptance. The other was clearly too tired to protest, and that was all the confirmation Ravio needed that he wasn’t doing so well. “How come you sleep well normally? When you’re here I mean?”

“Huh?”

“You come in, make that-” A warm shiver crept up his spine, delight blossoming inside at the mere thought. “-cider stuff, and then you fall asleep.”

“Oh.” Mr. Hero blinked slowly. “My Uncle used to make me cider to help me fall asleep. Neither of us knew anything about tea, but we would sleep best when we drank something warm first.” He shrugged. “It just helps me relax.”

Warm? Warm things helped Mr. Hero relax?

An idea sparked and Ravio jumped to his feet, chuckling nervously at the alarmed expression that his abrupt movement caused before he darted towards the kitchen. “Say right there! Don’t go anywhere.”

As he left the room, he heard a scoff and the rustling of the blanket. “What’s he think I’m gonna do, run back outside in the middle of the night? Tch.”

It had been a while since Ravio had made cocoa, especially when he’d learned to love cider more, but unfortunately (or tragically in his mind) he didn’t yet know how to make the cider itself and thus couldn’t make it for Mr. Hero. Fortunately, cocoa was also good, although not as good, and would serve perfectly well in the place of the fruity drink. After all, he mused to himself, cocoa was chocolate, and chocolate had caffeine, which, while caffeine was the love of his life and kept him awake, seemed to have the opposite effect on Mr. Hero.

They’d had tea once together when Ravio had been left some by a customer as a thank you, and Mr. Hero had been surprisingly calm for the rest of the evening before he had to leave the next morning.

Setting chocolate to melt and measuring out some milk into a saucepan was the easy part. Pacing up and down the kitchen and hoping Mr. Hero wasn’t getting impatient with him while the chocolate melted was the hard part. But it was a practiced process that was tried and true, and not even Hilda could resist his hot cocoa, so it was worth it in the end when he had two steaming and frothy mugs in hand and was headed back on his way into the living room, leaving Sheerow with full rights to cleaning up the rest of the chocolate he’d had left over.

Mr. Hero was still awake, unsurprisingly, considering his earlier revelation, and he cocked a brow at the sight of the mugs, a wary look on his face. “What is that?”

“Cocoa.” He chirruped in response, only to be met with a confounded expression on Mr. Hero’s thin face.

“Co- what?”

Ravio started to a halt, eyes blinking wide as he stared at his friend. “Have- have you... never had cocoa before, Mr. Hero? How is that possible! It’s wonderful!”

Soft violet eyes, nearly devoid of life or any emotion, stared back at him. “Ravio, I have traveled to all of seven countries and I’ve never even heard of it. What the heck are you on about?”

The merchant was bundling himself onto the couch at the hero’s side in mere moments, eyes sparkling with delight as he shoved a mug into Mr. Hero’s startled hands. “Oh, you’ve got to try it then, it’s-” Delightful, wonderous, nearly as good as cider but not quite- he wasn’t sure which word to settle on, but he didn’t really have the chance to choose, cutting off as he saw Mr. Hero’s nose shiver slightly, eyes growing wide as the hylian all but shoved his nose into the cup, sniffing appreciatively with a startled expression before taking a cautious sip.

The expression ‘stars in your eyes’ had never made sense before, but Mr. Hero’s twinkling lavender shades finally helped him to understand as the other boy had stared into his mug as if he’d just discovered the fabled sword of Lorule. Mr. Hero’s mouth opened, forming an ‘o’ shape before flapping slightly, only to eventually close again around a gulp of cocoa as he sat staring in astonishment at the drink in his hands.

Ravio giggled softly into his own mug, letting the froth on top tickle his lips as he watched his friend discover chocolate for the first time. “It’s not as good as cider but-”

“Are you kidding me? This is-” Mr. Hero sighed out, both hands wrapping around the mug as the hylian’s shoulder relaxed, his gaze slipping closed with another sip of the warm chocolate. “This is freaking heaven.”

Ravio would contest that, did, in fact, contest it repeatedly, but Mr. Hero argued back.

If Mr. Hero made cider, than Ravio would insist it was better than cocoa while Mr. Hero snorted that it didn’t even compare, meanwhile when Ravio made cocoa, Mr. Hero pointedly glared at him over the rim of his mug (never mind that chocolate clung to is face and upper lip) as he drank it slowly and pointedly. Ravio would scoff and again assert that cider was better, but the blissful expression on his friend’s face was something that was terribly hard to argue with.

Both demanded the others recipes, and both refused.

“You’ll never make cider if you can make cocoa.” Ravio had pouted, and Mr. Hero had grumbled that the same could be said of the cocoa, hence why he would never share his recipe.

But then their adventure was over, and in the middle of packing up his things to leave through the portal for the final time, Mr. Hero had grabbed his arm and dragged him down to the cellar.

Ravio had spluttered and huffed at his friend’s odd behavior, but then found himself sitting wide eyes as Mr. Hero explained how to properly prepare the apples and slowly, surely, Ravio realized what was happening.

Green eyes flicked up from the apple in Mr. Hero’s hands to stare at the face across from his; violet eyes downcast and weary, and face lined with care and hurt as it had been when they’d first met. He longed to reach out and smooth the frown lines, but it would only make Mr. Hero scowl if he rubbed juice onto his face.

Once he’d been shown how to start the cider, Mr. Hero dragged him upstairs and very pointedly lectured him on spice usage and proportions, all the while mixing up a batch of heavenly smelling nectar that made Ravio want to squeeze his friend in his arms and whisper a tearful than you.

But Mr. Hero’s face was still grim, and with every step it sunk in just why the forbidden recipe was finally being revealed to him.

He was going away. He was going away and never coming back, and Mr. Hero, the dear that he was, had decided to let him have the recipe he loved the best. Be it because Mr. Hero didn’t want to stop him from enjoying it, or maybe as a final expression of friendship, it felt...hollow.

Mr. Hero had just saved both their worlds, and now he was giving Ravio a special part of himself. He was sharing how his uncle had taught him to make cider, something important, intimate. Something that had been his and his alone to remember his uncle, or so he’d whispered on a lonely night ages ago when they were still getting to knw each other.

And Ravio, as always, was just taking it, with nothing given in return.

That simply wouldn’t do! Mr. Hero deserved something as a comfort, as a thank you! And... well, if I would help remind him of Ravio, than the merchant wouldn’t mind that either.

Hand’s full of mugs were halted as Ravio took both, earning a look of protest from his friend until he was leading Mr. Hero back into the kitchen. “You shared,” He explained with a light smile, one Mr. Hero could actually see now. “Now it’s my turn.”

That night, they curled up on the couch with mugs of cider and cocoa, silently enjoying their final night together.

In the morning, Mr. Hero loaded him up with apples and spice, and Ravio scoured his bags for every last trace of chocolate to stock the hero’s cupboards. Neither would last forever, something that niggled the backs of both of their minds, but both sought to drown the thought with checking over house and bags respectively one last time.

The goodbye was tearful, both from the princesses and Ravio himself as he flung himself into Mr. Hero’s arms, blubbering and sobbing in a right mess, but Mr. Hero only sighed, shoulders trembling slightly as he’d gently patted his back (arms tight enough around him that Ravio could hardly breathe) the softest of sniffles sounding from his friend as the hero let him cry out all his goodbyes on his shoulder.

That night, in the big, stately, but painfully lonely and uncluttered, kitchen of Lorule’s castle, Ravio made apple cider. It didn’t taste quite like Mr. Hero’s, a far cry indeed, but that may have just been the salt in it.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu ravio #ravio my beloved #fluffics #linked universe fic requests #hot chocolate #apple cider #i have never drunk apple cider actually

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maybe-theres-hope · 3 years

Text

Tarlos ficlet - “You Like My Costume?”

For all y'all firefighter!Carlos babes :)

@howtosingit @pragmaticoptimist34 and anyone else who likes this kind of thing <3

1.6k | ao3

TK is actually kind of bummed to be working on Halloween.

Sure, it’s not like he has to work Thanksgiving this year--he somehow finagled the day off and he has yet to tell Carlos that he will be making a surprise visit to the ranch for dinner and he absolutely can’t wait to see his fiancé’s face when he walks in--but he was kind of looking forward to doing the cutesy couple’s costume thing. He’s a sucker for that kind of thing, and he’s bummed, okay?

They’re out on a call that’s frankly more of a time waster than anything else since the fourteen year old in question wasn’t actually suffering from alcohol poisoning but rather he’d yarfed because his friends had dared him to drink a teaspoon of dish soap--honestly, kids these days--so things are looking pretty mellow so far for the evening. He half expected full-moon level type calls tonight but in all honesty he’s been kind of bored. Which really makes it doubly crappy to be working. There’s not even any excitement.

“At least we’re off at 11, you’ll get to see the last of the trick-or-treaters,” Nancy says with a smirk.

“Who trick-or-treats at 11 p.m.?” he asks. “By then it’ll just be the dumb teenagers TP-ing old people’s houses and that’s if anyone actually does that anymore.”

“What, you’re too old and married for those kinds of shenanigans?”

“Screw you, I’m not old, and I’m not married yet,” he quips back at her.

“Mmmhmm. Coulda fooled me.” She’s smiling her mischievous smile, the one she gets when she’s contemplating how to jump-scare him in the bunk room in the middle of the night because one time he yelped in such a high-pitch that she nearly peed herself laughing, and she’s been trying to recreate it ever since.

“Hey, the thrill is not gone, I can promise you that.” Now it’s his turn to smirk back at her.

“Ugh ugh, okay, don’t wanna hear about it.” She waves her hands in front of her face like she’s shooing away fog. “And TK? I mean that. Whatever it is you’re going to be doing tonight, I never wanna hear about it, okay? Just...please. Keep it in the bedroom. Everyone’s going to be making enough assumptions as it is.”

He turns to look at her from the driver’s seat, puzzled. “What do you mean, tonight? What’s so special about tonight and why are people making assumptions? Carlos had to work until half an hour ago anyway, so we’re probably both going to just pass out when I get home. Also, what do you mean ‘assumptions’?”

She just smiles at him again. “Just drive, Strand.”

When he pulls the rig into the bay at ten minutes past eleven, TK just wants to shower and collapse. Boredom held out for only so long before giving into three separate calls where the patient coded on the backboard. He’s tired, he’s hungry, and he feels like he will never be clean of all the sweat. His fingers are aching and his shoulders are sore. He’s never been more ready to just slip into their sheets at home and pass into blissful oblivion. He can’t even make himself look up from the floor as he walks toward the locker room.

“Hey TK! Why don’t you say hi to the new probie?” Mateo’s voice is nearly a giggle, and it actually causes TK to lift his head. With great effort.

“Huh? We have a new probie? Whose first shift is on Halloween? Who did he piss off to manage that?” TK asks, following Mateo through the kitchen.

It’s Paul who answers from where he’s leaning against the archway leading back into the bay where the ladder truck is parked. “No one. You might be a little peeved that he took your old turnout gear, but I really, really doubt that.”

“What?” Now TK is just thoroughly confused.

“Yeah,” Marjan says when he rounds the corner, “and it doesn’t fit him all that well, but I also highly doubt you’ll be upset about that either.” She’s practically glowing with mirth.

“Okaaaay...what’s with everyone? Is this some kind of Halloween prank? Is someone going to jump out and scare me?”

“Trust me, it won’t scare you. Just...don’t scar the rest of us once you see it. Behave yourself until you get home,” is Nancy’s last line before she turns and practically runs up the stairs.

TK darts his gaze around to the rest of them, brow furrowing.

“Just go, man. We’ve been keeping this from you for like a week and we want to see the fruits of our labor,” Mateo says, shoving at TK’s shoulder so that he walks toward the ladder truck.

Still confused and slightly nervous, TK rounds the back of the truck and looks around to see what it is they’ve conjured up to prank him with. He scans the floor, wondering if someone in a scary mask will slide out from under the truck. He moves around to the other side while still in the team’s line of sight, looking back at them for some kind of indication that he’s on the right track. Marjan points subtly up and he follows with his gaze.

His mouth goes instantly dry and his breath stops. He might gasp, but he can’t be sure.

“Hi babe. Happy Halloween,” Carlos croons in a low voice, though he’s blushing slightly which removes some of the effect.

TK can only stare. His old turnout gear, indeed.

His fiancé his perched on top of the truck, casually leaned against the ladder and looking down on him. His hips, clad in baggy pants only held up by bright suspenders are slipped forward just so, inviting TK’s eyes to travel up the long line of his glorious body. The AFD t-shirt is straining at the seams, defining every muscle in his abs and pecs, the suspenders caressing against the hard planes of his chest, peeking out from the turnout coat hanging open.

When Carlos notices where TK’s eyes have gone, he lifts himself out of his ridiculously sexy lean to stand and shrug out of the coat. How on earth anyone can make the removing of standard-issue PPE look so goddamned alluring, TK will never know. The movement causes Carlos’ shoulders to flex, and the cotton of the t-shirt nearly gives out. TK catches a peek of his own name in bright orange lettering across the back of the coat before it’s casually flipped over one massive shoulder, clinging to one finger.

“I...holy shit,” is all he can say. He has been robbed of his entire vocabulary. He can hear his team snickering at him from the kitchen, but he pays them no mind. The view from here is much better.

Carlos blushes a bit more, and tosses the coat down to TK, who catches it dazedly. Then, he watches as his absolutely gorgeous fiancé nimbly climbs down the footholds on the side of the truck like he’s done it a thousand times before, and between drooling and sucking in subtle breaths of air TK’s eyes are drawn directly to his ass. It’s a marvelous sight.

Dropping down lightly onto the floor with a tiny bounce in his step, Carlos turns to face TK in all his glory. TK’s gaze once again runs the gambit from his shoulders down his torso, right down to his own spare pair of boots.

Carlos saunters closer, knowing full well what he’s doing and loving every minute of it, the bastard. “So, babe,” he says in that same low voice, closer this time. “You like my costume?”

TK still can’t really form words. He might stutter a bit, but he’ll deny it later.

Carlos leans in close--presumably to deter their audience from hearing his next words, which are whispered directly into TK’s ear.

“I chose to dress up as your secret fantasy,” he says, his lips caressing the shell of TK’s ear. He shivers, though from the words or the touch or the outfit or all of the above, TK can’t say. The next words he hears don’t help matters much.

“What do you say I rescue you from work? Take you home and give you some mouth-to-mouth?”

TK can hear the desire behind the words, but he can also hear the tiniest giggle at the blatant dirty talk that Carlos actually doesn’t do that much of, and it makes his heart melt. This man is everything.

When he regains some coherency, TK decides to give back as much as he’s gotten. He runs his hands down Carlos’ torso, nearly dropping one suspender completely off his shoulder with his vigor in grabbing a handful of pectoral muscle.

He leans back in and says into Carlos’ ear, “Well, have you still got your uniform in your car? It might be a bit big on me, but I think I’d look good in nothing but your utility belt. Should I handcuff you to the bed, firefighter Reyes?”

He leans back just enough to catch Carlos scrunching his eyes shut and biting his lip--desire written into every line of his face--and suddenly remembers their audience. This is not a free show, no matter how much help they provided Carlos in surprising TK with this. “Take me home, now.”

“You got it, babe.” With that, Carlos bends down, grabs TK by the waist, and lifts him like he weighs nothing. TK is thrown over his shoulder in a full fireman’s carry to the tune of his team, his friends, whistling and catcalling as he’s carried off to Carlos’ car.

Yeah, this is a good Halloween. Maybe the best one yet.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #halloween fic #brooke writes #I was gonna include the actual smut but I am Tired

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

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hello! can you write scenario for akashi, aomine, kise, and kagami where their s/o is jealous of all the attention they're getting from other girls?

awwww. adorbs! certainly ^_^ 🖤

Jealous S/O

Akashi

It’s not a surprise that he was popular.

Akashi was smart, handsome, rich. Great at academics, and sports, and the youngest student council president in the history of Rakuzan. You didn’t believe in people being perfect, but if ever someone was going to get close it would be Akashi. He really lived up to the ‘Emperor’ nickname.

And what was an Emperor without his court.

“What’s wrong [Y/N]?” You look up from the pavement as you walked to class to see Akashi staring at you. His gaze focused, but soft & concerned. “You seem distracted.”

“Oh…it’s nothing.” You tuck your hair behind your ear. Prepared to let this go. Of course, Akashi wouldn’t let it though. He continued to stare at you until you finally broke down and told him. “It’s just them.”

The red head turned to look where you had jutted your chin towards the girls, huddled behind one of the pillars in the court yard whispering & staring, and your boyfriend let out a sigh. “Ah yes. Them.” He doesn’t seem surprised by their presence. Nor their borderline stalking. You should have guessed that he knew they were there. “I just choose to ignore them. However, if they are making you uncomfortable, I can order them to stop.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to cause trouble. And although it was annoying, you didn’t want to break another girl’s heart over their rejected feelings. “It’s not a big deal. It’s the burden of dating the ‘Emperor’ I guess.” His lips scrunch. Though the nickname stuck over time, you know he doesn’t actually care for that title. “I just feel a little bit like one of those women in a historical K-drama. You know, like someone is waiting in the wings to knock me off so they can take my place near the emperor.” Sometimes you kind of feel like I should start checking my lunch for poison or glass.

Akashi scoffed a little. Then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “That’s never going to happen.” He assured you. “My heart belongs to only you. And, if anyone were to hurt you, I’d gouge their eyes out.”

Perhaps it’s poor form to giggle at such a threat, but you do. He really was so protective of you. You really had no reason to be jealous, because no one was going to take Akashi away from you.

You continue on your way to class. The ‘court’ suspiciously hanging back more than usual after that day.

Aomine

The street ball court was a buzz as usual whenever Aomine played.

His ‘quick game’ with the challenges on the court had turned into a full basketball brawl that had lasted for hours. One-on-one after one after another.

Not that you minded. Watching Aomine play, and seeing him happy, was always thrilling. He always looked so cool when he played; giving his all, even against weaker players. You chuckle to yourself. He really was a terrible guy to take such joy in crushing people. But then what did that say about you when you were so turned on by it?

“That dark skin guy is so hot! Do you think he’s foreign?”

You turn away from the court to a gaggle of girls, some your age, some older, watching the game as well from the side lines. Some had noticed the game and come to watch. Others had come with their own boyfriends. You frown a little as they continue to whisper and gush over your boyfriend. Getting moodier by the second.

“Yo, what’s up?” You look up from glaring at the lines on the court; just in time to see Aomine place his ball he was holding in one hand against your head. “You look pissed. Are you not having fun?”

“Not really.” You confess, batting his hand away. You weren’t having fun now. He was talking to you, but those girls still couldn’t take their eyes off them. “Can we go now?”

“What?? But things are just getting started.” He lifted his shirt up as he whined to wipe the sweat from his brow and you could practically hear the siren like squeals from those thirsty ass bitches.

“I don’t like the crowd here.”

Aomine seemed to catch on, and looked to the side to see who was annoying you. You have to assume he expected to see some guy making you uncomfortable, based on his expression, but looked surprised when he saw it was just a bunch of girls; totally playing it off like they weren’t staring at him a moment ago. “What can I say babe? I can’t help it if girls think I’m super hot and junk.” His cockiness and smirk were not attractive at the moment.

You continue to pout, but just long enough for Aomine to lean in and give you a peck on said pout. “Let me kick this guys ass and then we can go. ‘Less you wanna stick around and make ‘em jealous back. We can do gross couple stuff until they get weirded out and leave.”

You chuckle again at the offer. Appreciating the gesture he was trying to make. “Go play your game and then we can go. If we’re going to do ‘gross couple stuff’, I’d rather do it in private where we can enjoy it.”

Aomine gave you a big grin, followed by a loud, “yes ma’m!”

Of course, he slaughtered the guy in the next game. Leaving him to sulk off back to his own girlfriend; who was indeed in the pack and not looking too happy about it. You both leave after that to finish your date. Aomine proud as a peacock for the rest of the afternoon from the ego boost.

Kise

It was hard, dating a model.

You knew of Kise’s profession before you started dating, of course, but you had no idea how hard it would be on your relationship.

Girls stopped him every chance they got to ask for his autograph, or gush over his new photobook. He of course was courteous and polite. Turning on that model charm. He always thanked them for their patronage of his work and they promised to always support him. It had been bad before, but ever since his game was televised this past season, it had grown into a circus. Not only was he the beautiful blonde-haired boy they all admired, but now he was also the super-hot jock they all drooled over. You could barely go out on a proper date anymore without being accosted by some female vying for his attention.

“[Y/N]-cchi, what’s wrong? You look upset.”

“This is ridiculous!” You told him, and you weren’t just talking about his huge sunglasses & stupid hat he was wearing to try and be ‘incognito’. It wasn’t working even a little bit, so now it was just doubly stupid. “Why can’t they leave you alone for 10 minutes?!”

“They’re my fans [Y/N]-cchi. I can’t disappoint them!”

“Right. Don’t disappoint them. Why don’t you hang out with them today then?” You mutter sullenly. Prepared to leave.

Kise seemed to realize what was going on, and just how upset you were, as he reached out to grab you hand. “I don’t want to hang out with them [Y/N].” You turn back around when he said your name like a real person. Not the cute little way he did it as part of his act. “I don’t want anyone else but you. They only like me because I’m handsome and a model.” Humble too, you think to yourself. “They don’t really care about me. You do! I don’t want to lose that. Please forgive me.”

He did genuinely look hurt, and you have to believe that he meant it. You sigh. It wasn’t totally Kise’s fault. “It’s alright Ryouta.” You tell him. He seemed to perk up a little at that. “If you could maybe not lay it on so thick for them in the future, I would appreciate it.”

“Of course [Y/N]-cchi!” He cheered with a beaming smile. Already back to his normal self. “I’d do anything for you!”

It doesn’t stop of course. But Kise kept true to his word and politely asked to be left in peace. Most respected that. Some weren’t as understanding of his needs. You just appreciated that he was trying to keep them at bay. Fangirls were weird.

Kagami

After practice, you and Kagami went to Maji Burger, as per usual. And, as per usual, people were staring at your table.

Most of the time they were staring at the loud, tall teen scarfing down his body weight in hamburgers. Amazed at his own personal eating contest. However, more recently, the people staring were girls from your school who had also come here. And they were staring at Kagami only.

He was completely oblivious to it, but Kagami was actually really popular; even before Serin started wining so much. He was tall, athletic, built. He’d come from America, which was so cool for a lot of the students around here. Plus, he had this whole ‘bad boy basketball star’ vibe going. If they only knew how much of a sweet heart he really was. Actually, scratch that. If they knew that would only make it worse.

“Hey, what’s up [Y/N]? You’re not eating. Do you not like your food?”

You look up from your own, normal portion on the tray, then back down as you play with your food. “It’s just hard to eat when people are staring.”

Kagami blinked. Then looked around to see what you were talking about. “I don’t see anybody.”

“Of course you don’t….” You mutter under your breath. He never did.

“What does it matter?” He asked. “It’s not like I can stop people from looking at me. They have eyeballs. It’s a free country.”

“That’s not the point Kagami. It’s not that they’re looking at you. It’s the fact that they’re looking at you.” You’re trying to be discrete here, but subtle or discretion never really got through to Kagami. “They wanna fuck you.”

Kagami choked on his burger halfway devoured in his mouth. “Don’t say that!” He scolded you. Once he’d recovered from his near-death experience.

“Well, it’s true. Maybe that’s a bit much, but they definitely look at you that way, and it’s annoying.”

“How can you even tell?”

“Because it’s how I look at you.” You muttered under our breath again. Fidgeting with our soda straw to avoid eye contact.

Kagami heard you again though and now you were both blushing in the booth. “Well…the only one I’m interested in looking at me that way is you.” He muttered back. “The only one I’m interested in looking at that way is you.” His leg moved forward under the table to touch yours. Simple, secret, intimate.

You smile softly as you realize it was stupid to be jealous. Kagami had no guile. He was honest to a fault, which was another of his amazing qualities. He genuinely didn’t see those other girls because he was only focused on you. So let them stare. There was no way they were going to take him away from you.

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