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miyuwuki · 2 years

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hi <3

firstly,

CONGRATULATIONS YOU DESERVE IT <3 i'm so happy for you!

i would like to participate in the matchup event!

mbti: enfp

likes: reading and watching anime, dramas, and movies. i love coffee, the color red, books, seashells, flowers, physics and math, romance genre, pizza, pandas, squirrels, nail polish.

dislikes: bees, chemistry, history, and sugar (i like sweets though). i'm not a cat lover though i don't hate them.

what you look for in a guy: i like smart and funny people. i like tsundere people or the people who don't have a lot of friends and only trust or share personal details with a few people. i like honest and sharp people. i like people who would joke with me and receive jokes from me without feeling offended or hurt (with respecting each other boundaries and not very harsh jokes). i like to support the people i care for and love, so it would be nice if the person would let me support him and he will get drowned by praises from me. i like people who wear glasses. i prefer the quiet people over the energetic people, though not very quiet people! i like a little playfulness in a person. i want a person who would make me calm and reassure me when i overwork myself or worry too much about something. negativity is a big no for me; i don't like negative thoughts. i love height difference. also, i love it when a person gets shy or flustered when you flirt with them, i like it when the person as well tries to fluster me.

additional information: i'm a very energetic person, though i'm kinda quiet. i'm positive, smart, have a little sense of humor, kind and hardworking, i like talking about the things that i love especially with the people i love. also, i'm a very short-tempered person.

thank you j and congrats <333

a/n: i think you already know who i’m gonna pair you up with from daiya LMAO

DIAMOND NO ACE:

miyuki kazuya

i’ve told you this before but you really do remind me of sawamura. looking at both him and kazuya’s dynamic, it is definitely a playful relationship

kazuya doesn’t mind your cute interests; i feel like he’ll actually find them endearing bc it’s so cute!! and he doesn’t like sweets either so that’s a plus for him (it’ll be easy to cook for you hehe)

kazuya is not super studious but he is definitely smart, and he does have a tsundere side since he’s not really good at showing his emotions :’) he wouldn’t sugar coat anything when it comes to confronting you so expect brutal, honest opinions from him. he knows what it’s like to work so hard so he’ll support you in anything you do; and his mindset! we see that he feels that he isn’t fit as seido’s captain but there is no room for negativity— he only motivates himself to do better, SO,,, you and him will be each other biggest motivators in anything you both do. your praises will make him so shy and will tease you about it, but ultimately it makes him the happiest. he’s the type of guy to understand you when you’re at your happiest or when you’re at your lowest; so whether you get upset at him or not, he will have every ounce of patience for you before expressing his thoughts.

overall, a very power relationship. two extroverts can be overwhelming but since you both have a quiet side to each other, you guys would respect some personal space. very cute i love it

KUROKO NO BASKET

hyuga junpei

another power couple— with hyuga! this relationship is ver nurturing and pure

hyuga definitely finds your interests adorable— especially the fact that you like animes and dramas! he likes collecting figurines so im guessing he has some shared common interests as you

as for your personality, hyuga enjoys someone who is energetic! we see it when he’s with izuki, riko, and kiyoshi hehe, and he finds you so cute when you’re excited about the things you love. he is more on the quiet side, but won’t hesitate to poke fun at you here and there without crossing a boundary that will hurt you. at your lowest, he will definitely encourage you to keep trying and keep going because he believes so much in you. there is no room for negativity with him because he knows there will always be a way, and that everything will be okay. you can trust him for comfort and love as long as you do the same back. he isn’t good with expressing his emotions like miyuki, so flustering him is an easy win. but watch out, cus he’s got a couple moves up his sleeves eheh

i love this pair because it’s so wholesome and soft

i hope you liked this matchup @zoyavx !! thank you so much for participating in this event :)

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

#diamond no ace #diamond no ace x reader #diamond no ace matchups #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko no basket matchups #daiya no ace #daiya no ace x reader #knb x you #knb x reader #hyuga hu pro #hyuga x reader #miyuki kazuya #miyuki x reader

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kevindayscrown · 3 years

Text

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 6 Cracks

(TW: Second hand embarrassment honestly)

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts.

Kevin Day never apologized to anyone. All he did, he did because it was what had seemed right at the moment. Regrets were a waste. He was better than that.

Unfortunately, such wasn’t the case at that time, when he was standing at the end of the hallway of the third floor of the Fox Tower where the dorms of the ice hockey players were located. He could hear indistinct chatter from the rooms closest to him.

He willed himself to walk. Eric’s room was the one furthest down the hall, according to Nicky, who had talked with a few of the hockey players. It irked Kevin more than anything that all of the Foxes had been made aware of the situation.

Even remembering their reactions fueled Kevin. Of course, Allison had laughed, Nicky had been ecstatic, Matt and Dan had tried – and failed – to hide their amusement. There were no more secrets in the team, or so Neil said, so Kevin had more or less been forced to tell them about everything that’d been happening since October.

Standing in front of Eric’s door, about to attempt to reason with him, he wondered if it was all really worth it.

It took a few tries before Kevin finally held his fist up and knocked on the door. The chatter he could hear from before paused and turned into light murmur that was barely distinct.

Eventually, the door was pulled open.

Eric and Kevin stared at each other for a moment before Kevin spoke.

“We need to talk.”

It wasn’t the smoothest line he could have started with, but Eric was towering over him, and thus, distracting him.

Kevin hated that height difference with a passion.

Eric turned and glanced at his teammates, making a gesture with his head. They all fled the room, as if able to sense the tension.

But not before they threw a glare at Kevin.

Kevin ignored them, keeping his eyes on Eric and only breaking the contact when the other closed the door.

“Came to waste your time?” Eric asked.

Kevin’s jaw clenched but he told himself he was here to reason, not fight.

“I came here to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Kevin wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. It was a bit easier thanks to having told Eric about Ichirou and the deal he had made with Neil already, but it didn’t make it any easier that he had to ‘apologize’ apparently.

“It’s about what happened,” Kevin started and followed Eric inside, sitting on the couch next to him after Eric had gathered all the scattered boxes of pizza and the tin cans of beer.

“Well, you are alive so I suppose your… boss either doesn’t know yet or he doesn’t really care.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Kevin said with a scoff. “But not quite,” He sat back, shifting a bit on his seat. Eric was clearly waiting for an explanation, but Kevin could hardly put it in words himself.

“He wants us to lead the press on. To ‘keep it up’.”

Eric was confused for a moment. For a long moment. He stared at Kevin, as if expecting him at any moment to reveal that all this was just a prank. Kevin stared at the turned off TV as if it was the most interesting thing that he had seen all day.

“Wait, let me get this straight-,”

Kevin was sure that if Nicky was here, he would make a stupid joke about it.

“- your ‘boss’ wants us to pretend we are seeing each other?”

“He is not my boss, don’t call him that. He just owns 80% of any profit I’ll ever make and if he doesn’t get that, if I don’t do what he wants, then I’m dead,” he snapped.

The silence that followed made Kevin more than aware of his pounding heart. He didn’t want to turn and look at Eric, but he could imagine his expression all the same.

“Look, I didn’t fucking mean what I said back at the store,” Kevin admitted, probably for the first time to himself as well.

“Day-,”

Kevin interrupted him before he could say anything condescending.

“We don’t even have to say we are dating. We can just let people think what they want to think. I don’t have anything to give you in return, but-,”

He stopped.

Being around Andrew had made him acquire the bad habit of never being able to say ‘please’ without receiving a cold stare.

He heard Eric sigh, and Kevin almost felt bad for dragging him into this mess.

“I don’t- Is this some kind of prank? Are the guys in my team involved too?”

Kevin couldn’t really blame him for the reaction but he still narrowed his eyes at him. He hadn’t eve told Eric the whole truth, he could only imagine how he would react then. He had barely touched the subject, having avoided sharing the harsh reality of being a Raven, of being Riko’s second.

Eric however, was only now starting to see the cracks in Kevin’s cold front. It was more like a mask for a boy who had been broken in pieces

and then had to bring himself back together. Which, Eric doubted was an easy process, considering that his whole exy team consisted of people who had been broken too in different ways.

“I’ll do it on one condition,” Eric finally said.

Kevin raised an eyebrow but waited for him to continue.

“You’ll have to apologize. Properly. No more half-assed bullshit.”

The grin on Eric’s face told Kevin that perhaps, he wasn’t asking this for the apology itself. He sighed and clenched his left hand into a fist as he thought.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, but it came out more than a grunt that anything.

Eric noticed the way he was clenching and unclenching his left hand. He took a puck they had in the dorm and tossed it at him. Kevin grabbed it and stared at it before he started fiddling with it instead of putting strain on his left hand.

“I didn’t quite hear you. Let’s try that again,” Eric said as he flopped back on the couch and put his hands behind his head. Kevin would try anything to get that stupid smug expression off his face.

“I’m sorry I said that those night practices didn’t mean anything,” he said, louder and clearer as he stared down at the puck in his hands. “They- I really enjoyed them.”

It wasn’t a lie just to please Eric; Kevin had enjoyed them. What had started as determination to become better at something for the sake of his pride, had turned into something freeing.

Kevin was learning more than just ice skating.

Eric smiled and nodded slowly. “See? Wasn’t so hard.”

Kevin went to toss the puck back at Eric but he shook his head.

“Keep it. Stop clenching your fist like that. It’s better to have something to hold onto.”

Kevin stared down at the puck as he held it in his hands. It was smaller than an Exy ball and his fist could almost close around it.

He showed his gratitude only with a nod as he slowly stood up. Eric walked him to the door and then leaned with his one shoulder on the wall next to it.

“See you around then, boyfriend?”

Kevin rolled his eyes, wondering if Eric was enjoying this solely because it would annoy Kevin.

But as he got a text from Eric later that day to arrange their first ‘date’, he thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.

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fuzzballsheltiepants · 4 years

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Picture Kevin, three years old, running after his mother on awkward too-short legs in the park across the street from their home. She laughs and grabs his little hands, swooping him off the ground in a great arc and he squeals and kicks his feet and shouts, “Again, mummy, again!” He seems to glow in the sun, and Kayleigh had never thought that love could be like this, something so big and all-encompassing it feels like pain.

Picture Kevin, four years old, already learning to read; at first Kayleigh thought it was memorization of his favorite books, but one day at the library he finds a book with a frog and a toad and he sounds out words on his own. Her heart swells with pride, and she kisses him on the top of his head and brushes back his silky hair and the frog and toad book finds its way home with them.

Picture Kevin, five years old, coming home from school bubbling with excitement day after day. “I made a new friend, mummy.” “Did you know that a long time ago Ireland was covered with ice, mummy? And there were furry el-fants and huge deers and all kinda stuff that’s gone stinked now.” “We drew today and I drew you and me and we were playing exy and the teacher said it was really really good.” “I know maths now, mummy. So much maths.” After school he pulls out his legos and starts adding to the giant structure that has taken over one corner of their living room. “It’s a castle, mummy. It’s s’posed to be big.”

Picture Kevin, six years old, leading Kayleigh through the streets from shop to shop. Gravely saying hello to the shop owners, who smothered their smiles and exchanged looks with Kayleigh over Kevin’s head. He talked about fish to the grocer and dinosaurs to the bookstore cashier and space to the pharmacist and then ran into the green to kick a ball around with some kids from school. “I like football okay, mum, but it’s not as much fun as exy.” They put on music in the car and he sings along, not caring if he’s in tune, just singing for the pure joy of it. Kayleigh wonders when she started becoming afraid of people who couldn’t even hear her; how many years had it been since she hadn’t cared what anybody thought? She turns up the music and sings along too.

Picture Kevin, seven years old, in tiny exy gear, playing in little league. He throws himself into it with abandon; sometimes the ball ends up in the little stands set up around the pint-sized court; sometimes he releases too late and it just bounces sadly off the ground; once it ricocheted off the low wall and whacked him in the shoulder. He rubbed at it, glaring at the offending ball, but two seconds later he was laughing and leaping back into the fray. He knocked a defender over, then stopped to extend a hand to help him up, and they hugged it out while someone else scored. Afterwards the defender went out with them for pizza and they talked about space robots for a solid hour until Kayleigh was ready to scream.

Picture Kevin, eight years old. Somber. Lost. Riko, promising to be his friend, and Kevin swallowing against the lump in his throat and nodding. Riko, a dark-eyed island in the sea of grief.

Picture Kevin, nine years old. Riko made good on his promise; he’s Kevin’s friend, his only friend; his brother, in all but genetics. Kevin trains, and he doesn’t make mistaken throws anymore. His footwork is sure. Tetsuji praises him, and he basks in the words, and vows to train harder.

Picture Kevin, ten years old. Riko drawing a 2 on his cheek; Kevin returning the favor, the 1 he draws precise, painstaking. “We are the best,” Riko murmurs, “you and me,” and Kevin smiles. One of the college students plays some music in the locker room, and Kevin remembers this song—the melody, the words. The song plays through his head, and he longs to sing along, but Riko ignores it and Kevin closes his mouth on the lyrics. He can hear something, in the Master’s locked office behind him; a muffled thud, and a groan, and somehow it’s louder than the music.

Picture Kevin, eleven years old. They go on a trip to a natural history museum, something their tutor recommended. Riko wanders around, haughty and bored; Kevin trails after. The placards at the exhibits call to him; so many facts, laid out before him; a real mammoth skeleton towers above, and Kevin wants nothing more than to gape at the enormous curving tusks, but Riko tugs him away. “This stuff doesn’t matter,” Riko says. “We’re going to make Court. We’re going to build Court our way, and it will be perfect.” Kevin wonders if perfect is worth it, but then swallows down the traitorous thought.

Picture Kevin, twelve years old. Already there are murmurs. Of his greatness, of Riko’s. Together, they are unstoppable. The Master tells them they would be the best, and they do not wish to prove him wrong. Always, Riko is with him; except once in a rare while when the Master takes him away. At first, he would come back pale and shaken, and Kevin would hear him sniffling in his bed; but that stopped a long time ago. Riko never talks about what they do. “Moriyama stuff,” he said, stiff and proud. They meet a new player; a possible recruit, for Riko’s Perfect Court. Nathaniel’s tiny and fast and he laughs as he intercepts a ball from Kevin that he never should’ve even had a chance at, and for a few moments Kevin thinks he can remember what it was like when his mother would cheer him on. Then the three of them are brought up, up to the tower where they meet Nathaniel’s father who looks just like him, and Kevin learns what “Moriyama stuff” really is.

Picture Kevin, thirteen years old. Someone asks him in an interview, after his team wins the Little League championships again, about how it feels to follow in his mother’s footsteps. He doesn’t even really know what he says; he’d been coached on this so many times it was all automatic. But that night all he can think about is that he doesn’t remember his mother’s voice anymore. He doesn’t cry; he can’t cry, there’s nowhere that he’s safe. For he’s not really a Day anymore, except in name, and he knows too well what it means to be a Moriyama.

Picture Kevin, fourteen years old. A new recruit arrives, and this one won’t run in the night like Nathaniel did. He doesn’t speak a lot of English, and he’s taller than Kevin, and he doesn’t know why he’s there. One day he checks Riko into the boards, and that’s when Jean first starts to learn his place. Riko and Kevin—they had already learned. That night Kevin holds Jean in his arms as tears leak from his eyes unbidden, and they don’t talk, lest they be found.

Picture Kevin, fifteen years old. They play against the college students now. Faster. Harder. More. At night, he soothes his aching muscles by delving over his books. He was smart, the tutor told him; he could study anything he wanted. But it was history that drew him, history that was endlessly fascinating. Who knew that facts were such subjective things? So many layers to unpeel, to distract.

Picture Kevin, sixteen years old. Pro teams already are banging down the doors for contracts for the pair of them, but they will have to wait. The professional leagues have less status than the NCAAs; the Master had already decided that they would use the pros as summer training, nothing more. He pored over college tape instead of worrying about it. He knew all the coaches in NCAA exy, all their styles. Except Coach Wymack, who was new. Coach Wymack, a bleeding heart with a hopeless future at a mid-sized university. Oh, the university would humor him, for hadn’t Kevin’s mother taught him? But they would lose patience, once they realized he could not win. Kevin would pity him, but pity was for the weak. He thought he remembered reaching a hand out to a fallen player, but he must have made that up. He would never be afforded the luxury of kindness.

Picture Kevin, seventeen years old. A letter, creased and yellowed in his hand. Jean, wide-eyed beside him as he studied the writing in a strong and graceful hand. “Will you tell him?” Jean asks, little more than a whisper lest the Master come in and see what Kevin found, hidden in a history book that had no doubt remained unopened for a decade. Kevin refolded it, slowly, carefully. “There’s nothing to tell.” And if Jean noticed him tucking the letter into his jacket pocket, he didn’t say a thing. That night, he charmed one of the college students to pass over a bottle of vodka, and he relished the burn down his throat, the way it made him forget.

Picture Kevin, eighteen years old. Newly annointed to Court, Riko by his side. He raises his chin as the cameras click all around him, the smile on his lips foreign and familiar. He knows his press smile, his press laugh, his press voice. He doesn’t remember what his real one is anymore. He looks at Riko, laughing easily next to him, and he thinks there was a time without that glint in his brother’s eyes, without that cruel note to his voice, but then he thinks maybe he was fooling himself all along.

Picture Kevin, nineteen years old. Watching Riko, sprinting up the court, waiting for the pass. Kevin has a clear shot; a guaranteed goal; but he pivots and throws to Riko instead. Two seconds later the goal lights up red, and Riko is celebrating. Kevin swallows down the bile in his throat and joins in the cheer. Thea looks at him from across the court and shakes her head, but she never says a thing. She’s never felt the sharp edge of Riko’s cruelty, but rumors travel fast underground. She may not know, but she has held onto Kevin in the dark and helped him find relief from the pain.

Picture Kevin, twenty years old. His legs are bruised in stripes from the Master’s cane, from Riko’s racquet; he’s slumped on the hotel room floor. Nothing feels real, anymore; it hasn’t for a long time. He cradles his hand against his chest, but he doesn’t see the red; just the green green fields and cobbled streets. He doesn’t hear his own shallow breaths, whistling through his teeth; just his mother’s voice, that he thought he had forgotten, singing off key. Softly at first, then louder. Jean pulls him to feet he can barely feel, and he presses his forehead to Kevin’s, and he whispers in the accent he never surrendered, “Go, and be safe.” And Kevin goes, but he knows not what safety is.

Picture Kevin, twenty one years old. He feels scraped raw; has, since the day Jean whispered in his ear; like his hand has healed, but he was dragged across cement every day without end. Only Andrew keeps him here, keeps him from bleeding out upon the ground. He’s not certain if his facade is intact, but he reaches deep inside himself and finds it. Neil’s fighting him, and somehow that helps; if he focuses on Neil’s idiotic stubborn streak he can forget that the last time he was here he had Riko by his side. He walks out onto the stage to a round of applause, and Andrew is staring up at him with those eyes and he can breathe a little easier. But then—he’s there. Riko is there, and his cruelty has been whetted like a blade. Kevin has not forgotten its sharpness. But Neil parries every blow of Riko’s, and he’s stupid and he’s brave and Kevin wonders how on earth he got this way and he wonders if—if maybe he should try to learn.

Picture Kevin, twenty two years old. The crowd is screaming; the stands are rumbling with the thunder of thousands of feet. Neil is to one side of him; Andrew to the other. They are becoming what he had once seen; the sculpture inside the marble, slowly being chiseled out. The rest of the Foxes range behind him, and his father stands tall at the back. Kevin takes a deep breath, drops the butt of his racquet to the ground, shifting it to his left hand. The stadium quakes, and it should. He takes a step onto the polished wood floor of the court he knew better than any in the world, and nothing will ever be the same.

#kevin day #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #meta #angst #my writing

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andrewminyyard · 4 years

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jean moreau + art

in the nest, there is no art.

it’s not surprising, given the ravens’ one track hive mind dedicated to nothing but exy, but it was one of the first things that stood out to jean when he came– no, was transported, like property– to tetsuji’s doorstep.

jean was used to france– buildings with delicate architecture, the clear blue water of the harbour, the soft piano music that seemed to blanket his neighbourhood, drifting in through the open window of his bedroom.

everything in the nest is the antithesis of that.

there is no music, anything the ravens listen to is approved by riko and listened to through headphones, and none of what riko approves suits jean’s taste.

there are no paintings on the walls. there are no bookshelves. there is barely any light and on the days jean is broken down the worst, absolutely shattered against the butt of riko’s cruelty, he thanks a faith that deserted him for never allowing art into this horror show.

it would not have survived the darkness of riko’s mind or tetsuji’s discipline.

by the time jean is dragged out of the nest by renee, barely breathing, barely alive, barely a human being, art is nothing but a foggy relic of a life that doesn’t seem real anymore. a distorted mockery of anything better than pain and torture and exy, exy, exy.

and then jean meets the trojans.

jean goes to therapy when he shifts to the usc trojans. in edgar allen, there had been no mandated therapy like there was with the foxes. jean didn’t even know the english word for therapy until he met betsy dobson under renee’s insistence.

with the trojans it’s not mandated but jean notes with open mouthed surprise that jeremy– jeremy knox, #1 on the trojans court, the fucking captain (can you tell it takes jean a minute to come to terms)– goes to the usc therapist.

renee says he needs it. jeremy tells him he needs it. the coach tells him he needs it. the rest of the team doesn’t really talk to him but he notices that quite a few of them have sessions every week.

so he scowls a little and thinks fucking fine. and he goes. and the first couple of sessions are basically useless because he just sits there and glowers at the calmly pleasant man who asks jean how he’s fitting in with the team.

the third session coincides with a bad day.

he’s speaking before he can hold himself in check, before the conditioning to keep himself in check kicks in, before biting his tongue comes into play.

“there’s so much fucking light. there’s so much sound. there’s so much music.”

and his therapist asks him, “is that something that bothers you?”

“no,” jean says, surprising himself with the truth. “just reminds me of ho– marseille.”

his therapist recommends getting in touch with more art. “explore interests outside of exy and exercise.”

so he goes back and he stares at the floor until jeremy tentatively asks him if he needs something and jean looks up and says, “can i borrow your laptop? i just– i need to look up some things.”

jeremy is only too happy to hand it over, a sunlit smile dimpling his cheek. and when jean later asks him hands shoved into his pockets and face carefully blank if he’ll go with him to the local art gallery, the whole room seems to glow with the force of jeremy’s grin.

so he visits the museum. stares at the paintings. stares at the lineart. at the charcoal work. at the modern art displays.

he carefully avoids jeremy’s eyes on the back of his neck. carefully avoids the way his heart clenches when he looks at an abstract painting with enough blue and beige to remind him of home.

swallows his tears when he stares at a charcoal drawing of a piano that looks remarkably like the one that used to sit in his living room.

he was sold, he was traded like cattle and fuck– he still can’t, he still isn’t over leaving. he swallows, again and again and again.

crying in front of his captain isn’t an option.

so he waits till they’re back in the dorm and locks himself in the bathroom for an hour. jeremy leaves him be.

he steps out, eyes red and voice scratchy, waiting for reprimands or questions or at least awkwardness. but jeremy just asks him, “pizza or pasta?” and then orders when he blinks and says, “...pizza?”

that’s that.

except it’s not.

because jean walks into the dorm a week later and finds a stack of drawing paper and charcoal pencils on top of them left on his bedside table.

because there’s a post-it note stuck to the top, scribbled on, as though jeremy couldn’t wait long enough to face him,

“you spent more time in front of the charcoals.”

he draws what he remembers of his little sister’s pigtails. draws what he remembers of the sign in front of the cafe he loved to visit with his mother. closes his eyes and draws renee’s eyes brimming with kindness and writes beneath it, “friend, friend, friend.” draws jeremy’s sleek bmw.

he stares at the paper, filled with quick sketches with broad strokes of the few memories of happiness jean moreau has known throughout his life.

(jeremy swallows down his own tears when he sees the sketch jean has left on the couch)

(a candle with the words, “perhaps there is light,” scribbled underneath.)

#jerejean #jerejean headcanon #jean moreau #jean moreau headcanon #aftg #aftg headcanon #all for the game #all for the game headcanon #angst #renee walker #the foxhole court #tfc #tfc headcanon #jeremy knox #usc trojans #geets writes #jean moreau deserves better #i love him so much #he deserves to heal

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lyndiscealin · 3 years

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Akio - Part II

“Boyfriend?” Josten snorts in sarcasm and before he could say something more, Riko stopped him:

“Don’t hurt him. This isn’t about him, he has nothing to do with this.”

Minyard’s eyes narrowed slightly and Josten’s zeroed in on him. Good. The less attention they gave Arthur the better.

“What, because you want to do it yourself? Or did you finally find someone as sick as you?”

They slowly drew attention to their table, but Riko couldn’t care less. It was their problem if they made a scene, not his.

Arthur still stood in front of the table, unmoving, not questioning, relentless. It was amazing how he just trusted him that these people were assholes and not him being one. The prospect of losing this hurt so much, he nearly couldn’t bear it. But he had to. It was his fault and his fault alone that this happened. You reap what you sow after all.

“It’s okay, Arthur.” He said as calmly as possible. “I’m sorry this has to end like this.”

He pulled out some bills and laid them beside his half eaten pizza. The ring in his pants pocket felt heavy as he stood up.

“We will talk later. I have to work this out on my own with them.”

Arthur still didn’t move, he just looked at him with worry in his eyes. “You are not going with them. I will call the police if you do.”

“No, you won’t. Arthur, it’s okay. Don’t call the police. Never call them for me, you understand? Never.”

Arthur looked visibly taken aback, but before he could react further Riko stepped in the direction of the exit: “Later, Arthur.”

There wouldn’t be a later, but the lie was necessary so Arthur would stay out of this. Riko was okay with dying through Minyard’s or Josten’s hands, but he wouldn’t be able to just stand by when they would turn on Arthur, because the idiot thought Riko was worth saving.

He hadn’t even reached the middle of the empty alley half a block away from the restaurant, when someone slammed him face first into the wall.

Josten stepped beside him, so it had to be Minyard who now took his arm and twisted it behind his back until his shoulder nearly dislocated.

“What are you doing here?”, Josten asked coldly. “And don’t even think about lying. You are not the only one who knows how torture works and I am sure we know a few tricks more than you.”

He hated feeling helpless. The feeling crawled up his throat, constricted around his ribcage and pooled hot in his stomach. The lust for blood rose, his head getting foggier by the second. It took everything to stay in the present, to not give in to the sick craving. He bucked on instinct against Minyard’s grip, which sent a hot jolt through his shoulder and resulted in Minyard slamming his body against the wall again in warning.

“I’m in the mafia equivalent of Whitsec.”, he pressed through gritted teeth. “Ichirou kicked me out of the family, gave me a bit of money and said he would kill me if he ever saw my face again. Personally or through the media. He changed my name to Akio Yamaguchi. For all he cares Riko is dead. I live here, nothing else.”

A scream wanted to tear his body apart, but he only managed a gasp when Minyard rammed a fist into his kidney. He would have fallen to the ground if the Midget hadn’t held him by his arm still. His shoulder screamed in agony. “Fuck you!”, he spat, his fingers digging into the wall in front of him in a desperate attempt to not lash out. The dull ache of his fingertips being scraped open was barely noticeable over everything else.

“Why should we believe you?”

“Why the fuck are you asking if you won’t accept the truth anyway? I know what this is. Don’t look for excuses to hurt me more and just do it. Or can’t you bear the thought that you are having fun, doing this? Does it feel good, finally getting your revenge? Do you like the adrenaline rush of looking at someone helpless and knowing they are hurting? It’s nice, isn’t it? When did you realise that you are as sick as me?”

There was an odd pressure at his back for a second and then a warm feeling. Riko’s eyes widened in realisation.

“I was ten when I planned my first murder”, he heard Minyard’s voice, but it sounded odd. Too far away. When his arm was released, he just crumbled to the ground and the last thing he heard were bones snapping. It was just a dull sensation in his left hand at this point. Then everything turned black.

#Akio #riko moriyama #aftg #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard

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crows-scones-and-exy-thrones · 4 years

Text

aftg characters as things my sims have done

dan: ordered hawaiian pizza

kevin: maxed out body potential when i left the game running to go buy a donut

andrew: stole 8 books from school, also a chicken statue

matt: fought a sim for insulting their wife

aaron: chose to do extra credit homework when i told them to watch tv

seth: became mortal enemies with another sim without being told to

allison: changed into party clothes to go to school

nicky: went to the nightclub instead of school

renee: had a literal greenhouse with 80 different plants

neil: set the kitchen on fire and themself in the 30 seconds i stopped paying attention to the game

abby: put the dishes in the dishwasher instead of the kitchen sink without being told

wymack: died from exhaustion while babysitting 5 kids (twin children, two toddlers, a newborn baby)

bee: baked a chocolate cake at 4am

jean: got in a fight at the gym, won

jeremy: blew out birthday candles at another sim's party

bonus

riko: kidnapped 42 sims and left them in the basement, immediately left the lot

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aftgsucks · 2 years

Text

NMFTG Chapter Eight

Consequences? For My Actions? Gross

Neil has to deal with the fallout of the Kathy Show!!

Ao3 chapter below cut, y’all know how it goes.

Neil, Andrew and Kevin climbed onto the bus. Andrew made a beeline for the back. Kevin sunk directly into Abby’s waiting arms in the front. Neil reached the top of the steps and for two seconds there was blissful silence and then everyone started to talk at once.

“What the hell happened?” Wymack asked, louder than everyone else. So much louder, in fact, that everyone else shut up.

“Whatever do you mean Coach, power outages happen all the time.”

“And since when do you speak French?” Nicky asked.

Neil dragged a hand across his face.

“I got into a fight with a mime and I haven’t been the same since,” Neil went to sit down.

“Josten, I want an explanation.” Wymack ordered.

“And I want a nap,” Neil turned back and caught Coach’s eye in the rear view mirror. “I did everyone a favor and got Riko to shut up- let’s just leave it at that.”

He only waited a moment to drop into his seat and shut his eyes.

It took an hour for everyone to give up on getting answers out of Neil. Kevin seemed not to care about answering any questions either, too preoccupied with his mental breakdown.

They made good time, Wymack stalling the bus to let everyone out in front of Fox Tower. Neil got off first not wanting to deal with any more questions. He ignored the conversations happening around him. He took the stairs up to the third floor and unlocked his door. Only to find Seth and Allison barely clothed watching a movie.

Neil decided to ignore that and their greetings instead going to the bedroom and climbing up onto his bunk. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t sleep. He heard voices from the other room, the upperclassmen talking about the show. He heard Seth laugh.

Matt came into the room, Neil kept his eyes shut.

“Hey are you awake? We’re getting pizza?” After a minute passed with no response, Matt left the room.

He didn’t fall asleep, he didn’t think, Neil just laid there in the dark until he heard his name from the other room in the midst of a commotion.

He rolled off the top bunk, not managing to stick the landing. Neil grumbled as he got up and opened the door into the living room of the dorm. Everyone seemed to be doing their best to get Nicky to leave the room as Nicky tried his best to plead his case.

“Come on guys, just get Neil,” Nicky begged.

“What?” Neil asked.

“Oh thank god, Andrew wants to talk to you,” Nicky explained.

“You don’t have to go with him, Neil,” Matt said.

“I don’t have to do anything,” but die someday. Still, he left the room following Nicky back to his dorm. Neil hadn’t been in their room since he’d broken in. Kevin was curled up on a beanbag chair and Aaron was doing the dishes. Nothing had changed from the last time Neil was in the room, as it hadn’t been all that long ago that he’d broken in.

Nicky gestured to the hall and then went to sit with an unmoving Kevin on the couch.

Neil went into the dark bedroom and shut the door behind him. Andrew was up on a dresser in front of an open window.

“Be honest, did you leave the lights off for the drama?” Neil asked in lieu of a greeting.

“You weren’t lying,” Andrew said after a moment.

“About you being a drama-”

“About you dying of terminal stupidity.” Andrew interrupted.

Fair enough.

“Riko’s going to come after you after that stunt you pulled today.”

“Why? I don’t control power outages.”

“The power outage you may have gotten away with, but then you pulled Riko’s favorite toy off the stage before he was done with it.”

“Does Kevin know this is how you talk about him?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Not if I can help it,” Neil shrugged. He’d spent years biting his tongue to maintain cover, but he was gonna die whether or not he kept his mouth shut.

“You told me you don’t care about Kevin or Riko and yet you rushed to Kevin's aid. I’m not buying the ‘bored of the verbal beatdown’ bullshit.” Andrew changed tactics.

“Is there a question coming up or did you just want to monologue?”

“Did you lie to me?”

“No, I don’t care about Kevin or Riko.” Neil didn’t care enough about anyone not for what Andrew was thinking. Any nostalgia or exy based admiration he might have held for either of them was far outweighed by their personalities.

“Then why did you do it?”

Why did he do it? Because Kevin was scared? Because Riko was an asshole? Because someone deserved to make it through alive and it wasn’t going to be Neil? When it came down to it none of that was necessarily wrong. But they weren’t the truth either.

“Because I could.” It was that simple, wasn’t it? Neil couldn’t save himself but he could play exy and he could stop Riko from killing Kevin. At least while he was still alive.

“No other motives? Why don’t I believe you.”

“I’m not that complicated Minyard, you’re just gonna have to accept that I do many things for no reason. Terminal stupidity, remember?”

“So, you’ve put yourself in the line of fire for no reason and are going to just make snappy comments until it kills you?”

“I’m pretty certain we had a long hungover conversation about exactly that. Yes, I run my mouth and someone kills me- that is the plan.” Less of a plan and more of just what would happen if he was being honest.

“Make a deal with me.”

“What?” Neil asked bewildered.

“You gave Kevin your game, give me your back and I’ll keep you alive.”

Neil wanted to laugh, it took serious effort to keep it from escaping his throat.

“You can’t protect me.” He said.

“I can,” Andrew's face twisted. He was so sure of himself. Neil sort of understood, Andrew was already standing between Kevin and a mafia- what was one more? But while he was an idiot, he wasn’t stupid enough to think Andrew with all his knives would make his father or any of his goons do anything but laugh.

“I’ll admit, you’re definitely more rabid than the average goalie and I’m sure you could handle a lot. But- and this isn’t a knock against you it’s just me being practical. No one can protect me from what’s coming and there is nothing I could give you that would be worth dying in the crossfire.”

“I know my limits, I wouldn’t offer unless I was sure.”

Neil dragged a hand through his hair and shook his head. Stubborn, delusional bastard. Neil tried to think of a way to convince him. Andrew had seen his scars- that should have been proof enough.

“Stab me,” Neil said.

“What?”

“If you can get a knife to my skin, I’ll believe you and I’ll take your deal.”

“Last time I waved my knife around you folded like a house of cards.”

“I’m aware.”

Andrew considered him and then drew a knife from his armbands.

Andrew wasn’t his father. Andrew wasn’t Lola. Andrew wasn’t his father. Andrew didn’t work for his father. He wasn’t Romero or Patrick or Jackson. Andrew wasn’t his father. Andrew might kill him, but it wouldn’t be just then and it wouldn’t be slow.

Neil took a deep breath. Andrew dove forward. Neil stepped to the side, twisting Andrew's hand and taking the knife from him, in a move he’d learned at ten years old.

He’d never managed it against anyone actually after him, but Mary had drilled the movements into him the second they’d stopped driving that first night when they ran.

Andrew froze, Neil retreated to the other side of the room. He put the knife on a dresser. Andrew’s hand curled into a fist and he gave Neil a dark look that Neil didn’t bother deciphering. It seemed self explanatory.

“You can’t save me, no one can. I’m going to be here until I die but I will die. Nothing will change that.” Nothing.

“Exy and death. That’s it for you? No running, no fighting.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m tired, I ran for a long time. Got in plenty of fights, this isn’t one I’ll win. I’ve accepted that, I just want to play Exy and not leave an exit wound.”

“You’re going to.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting attached, Minyard, I figured the offer was because you wanted something from me.”

“I don’t want anything and I don’t care what happens to you.” He gestured to the door of the bedroom, to the rest of the team. “They will.”

“I’ve been told I have a bit of an attitude problem, it goes a long way in keeping people away.”

They both lapsed into silence, Andrew crossing the room to take his knife back. He flipped it in his hands and then slid it back into its sheath.

“We’re going to Columbia tonight, come with us.”

“I’m not that stupid. Big shocker- my idea of a good time isn’t getting drugged and concussed.”

“You concussed yourself and the drugs would be optional.”

“Right, your word is your bond Mr ‘no more break-ins.’ I’ll stay here and save us both the trouble.”

Neil left the room before Andrew could respond.

Neil went back to his own dorm. The upperclassmen’s conversation screeched to a halt as he opened the door.

“Everything okay Neil?” Dan asked.

“Yes.”

Renee got up off the floor where she had been sitting.

“Neil, why don’t you help yourself to some pizza,” Renee said, gesturing to the counter before heading out of the room.

Neil had reached his limit the second he woke up that morning. But he was hungry, so instead of retreating back to his bed or going anywhere else. Neil went and grabbed a slice of pizza and listened to the upperclassmen talk about the upcoming banquet.

“You two are in charge of getting him a suit,” Allison said pointing to Seth and Matt before waving a hand at Neil. “I’ve seen everything he wears and I don’t trust him to get something appropriate.”

“I could just not go,” Neil threw out there. Not going to things was one of his favorite pastimes. He’d love to not go.

“You have to, it’s a team event.” Dan said,

The door opened and Renee slipped back into the room with a serene smile.

“What’s the verdict?” Dan asked.

“It’d be best to stay in tonight. It’s likely Riko will act out.”

Neil hadn’t wondered where Renee had gone, mostly he had just been relieved to have one less person to deal with. But the unasked mystery had certainly been solved.

“I’ll go out and get drinks, we can watch movies or something.” Matt offered.

“You can all have drinks and watch movies, me and Seth already have plans.” Allison said.

“What? Allison-” Dan started.

“I’m not letting my night get wrecked by Riko fucking Moriyama.” Allison interrupted.

“Seth-” Matt tried to reason.

“You heard her, fuck Kevin.” Seth shrugged, despite that not at all being what Allison had said.

The four of them started arguing. Neil glanced at Renee standing by the door, she looked between all of them with a tight look on her face.

“Enough,” Allison practically yelled. “Seth and I are going out. With our friends. Tonight. We’re big boys. We can handle ourselves. So everyone shut the fuck up.”

She got up and left the room, slamming it behind her. Seth went after her, slamming the door again.

Dan put her head in her hands.

“Why,” was all Dan said with a deep and guttural sigh.

Renee was still standing by the door, staring at it.

“If you’re so worried just go with them,” Neil found himself saying in between bites of his third slice of pizza.

“No, no. We’re already gonna be separated enough with the monsters in Columbia. Renee, stay here- please?” Matt argued.

“No, Neil’s right.” Renee sighed and then turned. “If I go with them I can keep them out of trouble. You and Dan can keep an eye on Neil and Andrew will watch over his.” She waited until Dan and Matt nodded.

Neil didn’t like the idea of anyone ‘keeping an eye’ on him. But he just continued to eat his pizza, not wanting anyone else to yell.

Renee left the room, presumably to go inform Allison and Seth that she’d be tagging along on their night.

Matt and Dan looked at each other. Neil finished his pizza and then turned for the door.

“Neil-” Dan started.

“I’ll be back before dark,” he waved her off. If he was going to have to spend more time with them, then he’d need to spend some time alone first. He left the dormitory all together, heading around the back of the building and sprawling out in the grass.

By all means he had a lot to think about, he just didn’t think about any of it.

He was running out of cigarettes, he’d need to head to the store the next day to get more. He lit the last one up and watched the smoke curl until the sun started to set.

The dorms were crowded, people coming back from the football games. So Neil took the stairs back up to his floor. He sat down on the couch and attempted to make conversation with the upperclassmen. He watched Allison, Seth and Renee leave.

Matt and Dan taught him a card game and the three of them played until Neil got tired. Then he went to sleep, leaving the couple in the living room.

He felt like he had only just fallen asleep, when loud talking seeped into his dreams and pulled him back into the world of the waking. Neil groaned and then got out of bed.

“Coach said to stay put,” Matt said.

Neil opened the door, Dan was pacing the living room letting out a long string of curses.

“Fuck that,” she said emphatically.

“What the fuck?” Neil asked. They both turned to him.

“Seth-” She started before cursing again. “I’m not staying put.” She said to Matt. “Fuck- Seth was attacked. I’m calling Coach back.” She pulled out her phone.

Matt held up placating hands. “He told you, he’d call once he knew more. He’s already at the hospital Dan. Come on.”

Neil contemplated going back to bed. But it didn’t seem like either of them would stop being loud anytime soon. He sat down on the couch.

“We don’t know what happened, all we know is that they were at a bar and something happened. And now they’re all at the hospital.” Matt explained, needlessly.

They kept pacing and frantically talking. Somehow Neil managed to fall back asleep on the couch. He woke up sometime later as the door swung open. In came Renee, Allison, Seth, Coach, and Abby. Back from the hospital at first light.

Everyone was talking over each other again, a habit it seemed with frantic foxes.

From what Neil pieced together from the disordered conversation. They had gone into the third bar for the night and everything seemed fine. Then Seth had gone to the bathroom- it had been taking too long so Renee had gone to check on him only to find some guy jamming pills down Seth’s throat.

She’d fought him off. And then had shoved her bloody fingers down Seth’s throat so he’d throw up the pills. The three of them had gone to the hospital to make sure she’d gotten all of them.

Renee had a black eye and split knuckles. Seth had gotten his stomach pumped and the doctors had wanted to keep him overnight but he’d gotten Coach to get him out of it. He didn’t seem to like hospitals, Neil gathered from the profuse complaining about having to be in one.

Allison was still a bit drunk and clearly pissed.

And apparently none of them knew where the guy had run off to after he’d taken Renee’s beating.

Neil started to get a headache when Coach and Abby left to go get everyone breakfast. So he got up and went into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and then just sat on the floor massaging his head.

He heard more voices joining in the group discussion and realized Andrew and his group must have finally gotten back from Columbia.

He closed his eyes and tried to listen for a moment. Catching Andrew say something about Riko.

Riko. Right? That was the whole reason Renee had gone with them in the first place. Riko’s retaliation. Neil had figured the guy would just badmouth the foxes on television or look into Neil’s past. But no apparently the guy was deranged enough to attempt murder.

Because it had to have been some Raven goon sent to kill Seth.

The intensity of it, the degree to which Riko had gone. It explained why Andrew had offered his protection, why Renee had gone out with Seth and Allison. Once more giving Neil plenty of answers to questions he hadn’t asked.

He got up off the floor and opened the bathroom door, not sparing a glance at his reflection. Resigning himself to a bigger headache.

The Upperclassmen were seated on the couch. Aaron, Kevin, and Nicky seated by the counter on stools. Andrew was leaning against the wall near the door. Seth was standing in the center of the room- furious.

“What I want to know?” Seth asked, loudly, over everyone else. “Is why Riko would try to kill me, when Kevin’s the one he has a problem with?”

No one said anything, the silence jarring compared to how loud the entire morning had been. The silence lasted just long enough for Neil’s mouth to act up.

“Because you’re the weak link,” Neil answered from the bathroom door.

“Excuse me?!” Seth asked, rage overtaking his face. Neil recognized that he shouldn’t say anymore, but he also knew that no one else was going to say it.

“You antagonize everyone on the team, isolating yourself. Making you both the easiest to kill and the easiest to get away with killing.” If Neil had to kill one of them, it’s be Seth. In the same way Riko’s lacky had tried too.

“What the fuck Neil?” Allison asked, her objection being the loudest in the chorus of comments that occured.

He didn’t get to answer, as Seth stormed across the room lunging for Neil. Neil ducked under his swinging fist, feeling a distinct sense of deja vu. Neil kicked at the back of Seth’s leg, sending him to his knees.

“It wasn’t an insult, so calm the fuck down. It’s just the truth.” In his peripherals, Neil saw that Renee was standing and Andrew had stood up straight, but he kept his eyes on Seth.

“The truth?” Seth stood up whirling around, he grabbed Neil by the collar of his shirt. Neil let him. “What about you fucker? This seems pretty antagonistic to me, new kid? You’re easy to kill too, maybe you’re next.”

Neil did himself a favor and didn’t comment on Seth's horrible breath, getting punched would only add to the headache.

“Riko can try,” Neil shrugged as much as he was able in Seth’s grip. “It wouldn’t be anything new and I’m a lot harder to kill.”

Everyone went silent again. The Foxes were a group of asshole gossips held together with duct tape and sheer force of will. While only the men and Abby had seen Neil without his shirt, he knew that by now the entire team had to know about his scars.

“Who hurt you?” Allison asked in a way that suggested it was more out of spite than concern.

“It doesn’t matter,” Neil removed Seth’s hand from his shirt, surprised that Seth let go without a commotion. “Worry about yourselves.”

Andrew whistled, the grin on his face showing that he was following his parole orders for once.

“Big bad Neil, where’s your worry?” Andrew mockingly asked. “This apathy seems concerning for your mental health. A teammate almost died.”

“Andrew,” Dan groaned.

If Neil’s lack of a reaction was inappropriate, Andrew’s wide smile had to be down right illegal.

“Oh Captain, my captain. You know I weep for Seth and his troubles. I’m all upset about it.”

Seth turned to Andrew, clearly on some sort of mission to get kicked again. Or perhaps stabbed this time. But Coach swung open the door before anything else could be said.

#aftg #fanfiction #fan fic #No more fucks to give #neil josten

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