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nataliewritez · 1 year

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Upper 1 & 2's Secret || KNY Tk Fic

A/N: THE THREE LOVELIEST BOY'S!! Thanks to @helloitsghost for ranting with me about these three (especially with 1 and 2 lol) otherwise, enjoy!! (P.S: If it's crappy, just know I barely had any sleep and I'm trying to get that fixed)

Summary: Upper 1 and 2's relationship has been found out by Upper 3.

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"Gah!?" Kokushibo heaved in sharply as Douma traces a teasing nail down the side of his back. "Relax, Koku-san~! It's only getting started~!" Douma has a shit eating grin that splays from ear to ear, as his growing more mischievous by the second. You wouldn't expect the Upper Moon, Kokushibo, to be ticklish. But what you'd never ever expect was for him to be sitting face to face with Douma with his head rested on his shoulder, his shoulder's hunching up as the other teases him relentlessly.

Douma has to bite back a laugh everytime the frightening demon shrieks against his neck, almost biting his tongue off a few time's at he does so. His long nails trace down in a straight line atop Kokushibo's spine, making him shiver and let out an airy scream.

"Ah-! Upper-"

"We talked about this - call me Douma!" Douma put out his bottom lip, resembling a pout, making Kokushibo giggle all the more from his silly antics. "Just relax and let me-"

"What the fuck?"

The two higher ranks stopped in pure surprise, when they bolted their heads towards the sound, they saw a really confused Akaza, staring down at them, probably ready to slice Douma's head off any second now.

"If you think you can harass the Upper Moon 1, then think again, dipshit." Akaza said in pure spite, leaving Douma and Kokushibo in place, confused. Before Douma could say anything, Kokushibo spoke up, so Akaza wouldn't go punch his lower jaw off. "I asked for this, it's a.." His cheeks heat up slightly, but his tone never wavers. "A relaxing gesture to I, do you have a problem with it, Akaza?" Kokushibo asked, seeming blunt as ever.

This got Akaza to calm down slightly, as he lowers his raised fist, but Kokishibo - and even Douma, didn't expect for him to smirk and proceed to crack his knuckles and even his neck. "Oh really? Our big bad Upper 1 is feeling stressed? Then let me help." He said. Oh right..

A months ago, Kokushibo had stopped Akaza from any furthermore contact towards Douma after their meeting, Akaza had held this grudge up to this point, so of course he'd want to get back at him in any way possible, even if it was just a small bit.

"Oh! Sure you can!" Douma seemed amused at this, now Kokushibo was in trouble, he didn't dare dash away from his inevitable demise, infact, he practically walked into Douma's arm's once again, simply allowing the newer member to come in and join with them.

"Oh Akaza-dono! I never expected you to play like a measly mortal child!" Dpuma taunts, making Akaza groan, but he lets out hus frustration by scribbling at Kokushibo's underarms, the sudden contact making him emit an airy cackle as he throws his arm's against his side's.

"Oh no! It looks like you may die a second time, Kokushibo-sama! Who knew that was possible!" Douma teases with a large smile, as his nails proceed to skitter against his lower back, the mixture off soft, playful tickles and rough, amused tickling from the two making it even worser, as he clams his eye's shut.

"Ahaha! A-Akaza! Slow dohown!" Kokushibo breathily giggles, Akaza must admit, his laugh was rather soothing, and actually nice to listen too, he could get used to this, but right now, he wants Kokushibo to suffer a bit. "Make me." Akaza snickers, smirking at the six-eyed man.

Each time Kokushibo attempted to bring his arm's away from his side's, Akaza would scribble a bit faster and dig a bit deeper, causing them to clamp back down again. "I cahahan't! Plehehease! A-Akazahahahaha!" Giggles the highest rank, a small snort leaving his lips, a snort Akaza and Douma could easily miss if they weren't paying attention to him. "Aww! Kokushibo-sama, you're so cute when you become a giggly heap! How about I help you raise your arm's, hm?" Douma asks with a sweet smile, his smile turning cynical as Kokushibo nods gently against his chest.

"Alrighty then, up we go!" He grabs his wrists, now pinning his wrists over his head, making Kokushibo gasp out of pure shock, even Akaza seemed a little flustered at the sudden trick. "Akaza-dono!~ Try his biceps!" Douma seems to suggest, and to Kokushibo's surprise, Akaza actually dies as his told, a small smile on his face as he skitters his blunt nails atop his arms, just near his shoulder's.

Kokushibo arches, almost throwing Akaza off guard, as he then places himself ontop his hip's. "Oh my, was that a bad spot I gave away? Whoopsies!" Douma feigns dissapointment at himself, now opting to using one hand to hold his wrists, squeezing at his side. Whenever Kokushibo jerked the opposite way, he'd go after that side, making him wiggle like a worm under their mercy.

"Is Kokushibo ticklish? Wow! How dare you keep a weakness from us!" Akaza now plays along, now gently scribbling at his forearms, making Kokushibo wiggle his arm's and shake his head, his entire body turning to mush. "Y-YOU TWOHO- AGH!?" He throws his head back, Douma now crawled the hand once at his side's and scribbled between his shoulder blades, making him hunch his shoulder's up.

"DOHOHOUMA! W-WAHAIT! DAHAHARLING!" Kokushibo laughs out, his feet hitting the ground, tears threatening to spill. His hair was even more messy then it usually was, falling on his face and sweat beading off of him. Akaza almost laughs at his state before his eye's widdened. Right... Douma and Koku never told him their secret. The two were in a relationship for a while now, but decided not to tell anyone about this, heck, not even Muzan knew! So when Kokushibo said that, and Douma stopped to kiss his cheek, making him purr out a satisfied sigh, Akaza was entirely shocked.

"You.. never told me." Akaza gets up, fists clenched, Douma smiling cheekily, "But Akaza-dono! You never asked!" He smiled, while this was true, Akaza didn't take his word and tackled the other to the ground, the two wrestling, but it seemed Douma purposely let him pin him down, "Oh Akaza-dono! You're so strong now! Surely you'll not tr-AIE!?" Douma shrieks.

Both Kokushibo, who now fully recovered, and Akaza stared in shock, both looking at the hand that squeezed at Douma's hip, Kokushibo ohing, despite Douma mouthing the words 'don't say anything' and shaking his head frantically, Kokishubo bluntly speaks, "I forgot he was ticklish himself." He says, Douma wishing he could facepalm now.

Akaza, however, was completely surprised, only for a second however before he decudes to scribble and squeeze profusely at the other's hip's, Douma ready to push him off, before Kokishibo helps, raking his fingers between his ribs, making the rainbow eye's demon fall to the ground quickly, already howling in laughter as they continue to mercilessly tickle him down.

"So, you never told me about your relationship.."

"PLEHEASE-!"

"Nor how ticklish Upper Moon 1 was.."

"AKAHAHA- AH!"

"And now.. I just found you were also ticklish!? What more will you hide!?" Akaza growls, though ut seems more playful then actual anger building inside him, his thumbs finding the divets of his hips and massaging there, his finger's curling at his hip bones, making Douma screech so loudly that the entire world could hear him.

"AKAHAHAZA! KOHOHOKU! PLEHEASE!" He playfully swats at their hands like flies, making both of them chuckle, as Akaza points out, "You never told us to stop~" He squeezes a few times, making him spasm.

They stop finally when he curls up on the ground, his whole body quivering there, as soft hiccups and giggles continue to spill out, his own hands rubbing at the once tickled area's.

Akaza laughs, "Now I know how to shut you up!" He smirks down at Douma, making him shriek as he pokes at his ribcage, Kokushibo now turning to him, making him gulp as his shadow towers over him. "Now, Akaza.." Kokushibo slowly raises his hands, blocking the exit, "I think it's your turn.."

#sfw tickle community #sfw tk blog #sfw tk community #tk community #tickle content #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tk fic #demon slayer tickling #demon slayer tickles #lee!kokushibo #ler!kokushibo #ticklish!kokushibo #lee!douma #ler!douma #ticklish!douma #ler!akaza #ticklish!akaza #natalie writez

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slovoricbutbetter · 1 month

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How to Get a Shot of Heaven: Guide for Boys with Fear of Needles

this is a vaguely (very vaguely. it's the Vibes toward the very end) forcemascing fictional story with just some random ocs i pulled from the ether :D

all i can guarantee is that the prose will be decent and maybe the banter will be cute but otherwise i don't know what i'm doing ✨ enjoy the story, 's under the cut !! 4014 words (written in one sitting so quality mileage may vary)

cws: religious trauma (mostly lightheartedly referenced, but very much omnipresent, gets more prevalent toward the end. worth mentioning, jay (pov character) got it in a cult), mentions of sexism and transphobia, kidnapping if you squint, needles and sirynges, Vaguely Horny Vibes further in but not straight away

Much to Jeremiah's surprise, he's largely unaffected by jet lag.

It's odd; his first ever flight, a transatlantic one at that, and all it took for him to shake off the morning after was throwing cold water in his face. If not for Adam looking halfway ran over as he checks the milk's expiration date and curses, Jay would've thought nothing of it, but apparently it's a blessing and the only good reason for Jeremiah to believe in God. Bit dramatic, but sure, whatever. Not like he'd know better.

Having abandoned the fridge in favour of the cabinets, Adam shuts another one with a groan. "I can't believe I have to feed you dry cereal on your first fucking day here. D'you prefer chocolate or fruity and would you be merciful enough to make me choke to death on whichever one you choose?"

Jeremiah snorts. "Can't believe a billionaire eats worse than I did living out of a car." He pushes off the wall, wandering over to the fridge, and examines its remarkably barren, cold insides, "Do they take your 'capable of basic self-care and housekeeping' card once you're masculine enough, or something?"

"Firstly, not a billionaire yet and won't become one if I have anything to say about it. Secondly, you've got it backwards. I'm incompetent because of my wealth, not in spite of it." Good-natured, Adam peeks from around the fridge door in all his mussed, squinty glory, "Men do tend to be encouraged to do jack shit even when they know how, though. 'S called 'toxic masculinity', doubt you've heard of it."

Humming affirmation, Jeremiah takes out a crate of eggs stationed lonesome on the top shelf and checks the date. "Do you have oil, flour and sugar? We could make pancakes."

Adam furrows his brows, like his appearance needs more creases. "Don't you need milk for those? That shit's been spoiled for over a week."

"Heat banishes the sin out of it or something, we'll be fine." Eggs and milk in hand, Jeremiah shuts the fridge with his foot and sets them down, taking the scan for supplies into his own hands. First thing he finds upon opening a top cabinet right next to the fridge is plates, stale-smelling spices, and, for whatever reason, the aforementioned cereal. This place is in desperate need of a full re-arranging, isn't it?

"... Okay, if we swap 'sin' for 'bacteria' that does make sense. You weren't kidding when you said they taught you pure fucking bollocks, huh?" Having got out the oil- olive, not ideal but workable- while Jeremiah was busy with plates, Adam stares at him with what Jay can only assume is highly crumpled scientific fascination.

Jay nods. "Dinosaurs are a scam invented to make people sin and all humans on the flat Earth came from a guy who coincidentally shares your name, yes." In the next cabinet, there's cups, glasses, a single fancy goblet and, on the top shelf, pans, "But hey, at least I know how to organise a kitchen."

"I know where everything is! Look, flour and sugar, record time." Adam says, muscles flexing as he pointedly slams the two largely unopened paper bags down next to the milk and eggs. Because flour is involved, he immediately sneezes.

"Your cereal probably tastes like paprika at this point. Now get out of the kitchen you're paying me to run and let me salvage your pathetic homemaking, shoo." Poking Adam in the chest with a pan, Jeremiah shoulders past him to get to more cabinets. Next one mostly has a myriad snacks and sugary drinks, though because it's ran by Adam, there's random soup bowls in there, too.

As Jay rummages around for a mixing bowl, Adam hovers. He's so rarely recognisably awkward, shameless as he is, his shuffling is even more distracting than it'd normally be. Mixing bowl found- though it's meant to be a salad bowl or something equivalent, judging by the fancy design- Jeremiah turns to glare over his shoulder.

Adam twiddles his thumbs under his ire. "Are you... Sure it's not too uncomfortable? You know, dysphoria and all, 's probably weird to be acting a housewife for a guy you just met three days ago."

Huh. Jeremiah blinks. Looks down at himself.

Even holding a fancy bowl in front of a stacked kitchen counter, the sight is far less nauseating than usual, his chest flattened and hairy legs covered halfway by cargo shorts. He sucks in his lips, worries at them, sets the bowl down. Breathes. Turns, and smirks as he faces Adam. "I'd be more concerned about the three days part than the housewife part, if I were you." He pinches at the loose fabric of his t-shirt, lifting it away, "More seriously though, that binder thingy helps, it's fine."

Squinting blearily, Adam holds up his wrist to check his watch. "You've been awake... How much longer than me, again?"

Uh? "About an hour? Well, a bit more than that, but I first checked the time an hour before you started puttering."

Adam nods, tapping something into his watch. "And you've been wearing the binder that entire time?"

Oh, right. "Yeah, showered and put it on. That's five more hours, if I remember correctly?"

Adam looks up. "Four and a half. Can I make coffee?"

"Excuse me? Where'd the half hour go?" Crossing his arms, Jeremiah narrows his eyes. Mostly playfully. Excuse him for enjoying the high of a better fitting body.

"We've been hanging out. Don't cry, you can have your dysphoria hoodie even if you'll boil, but I'm not letting you fuck up your ribs. Now, coffee? Would you mind if I used ice cream instead of milk or would you just prefer it black?" Back at the counters, Adam squats, opening a bottom cabinet.

Jeremiah huffs. "Ice cream's good, but not too much. And sure, try and convince me you were responsible when you got your first binder." Measuring flour with a literal cup, he pours it into the bowl. No sieve, whatever; he'll just mix like he's trying to make a death vortex.

With a heavy thud, Adam sets a fancy, massive coffee maker on a nearby counter and stares blankly ahead. After a beat, he smiles. "I was, actually. I'm paranoid, remember?" His cheekiness almost masks the deep eye bags he's boasting.

Huffing again, Jay goes back to measuring sugar. "Who would've thought the biggest, most relevant inconsistency I'd have to face off with would be that weird degenerates are also sicklers for rules."

"Not all of us!" Adam laughs, brighter, "Though admittedly most do try to stay safe as much as possible." He puts coffee beans in a grinder, shutting the lid, "Loud, prepare yourself."

Even with the warning, Jeremiah flinches while cracking the eggs into a soup bowl to beat. He's found a whisk by the time Adam finishes with the deliciously fragrant but not worth the noise coffee beans, started to work at it even; before Adam can comment, he turns to him with the most judgemental face he can muster. "Why do you have a whisk and not a sieve?"

A bit more life to his face, Adam blushes. "I, uh, used to. Have one, that is."

"You lost it?" Opening the milk, Jay asks, amused, "Oh, this has started clotting. How are you this much of a disaster, good sir?"

Adam groans, setting up the coffee machine with whatever ancient magic required to make it work. "We're going to get stomach bugs and die."

"Better than paprika-flavoured cereal." Light, Jeremiah snorts, "It'll be fine, expired milk actually makes pancakes taste better. Probably that bacteria you mentioned, whatever it may be."

A beep, and Adam leaves the coffee for the refrigerator, probably to get his ice cream. "Fair. Bacteria is what turns milk into sour cream and cottage cheese, so, probably fine." He says, playfully exasperated, "If we die, though, I'm beating your ass in hell." And bonks Jay over the head with the frigid box of vanilla he got, which is frankly unnecessary. Jeremiah sticks his tongue out, and focuses on eviscerating the last clots in the egg and milk mixture.

For the rest of the preparations, they're both quiet, though Adam does start to mutter some tune under his nose. He even dances once he's done distributing the ice cream between mugs, completely uncaring of Jeremiah's not so subtle staring.

... It rides up his t-shirt, which, while never particularly modest given he paired it with only boxers, still did more to cover him before he raised his arms. Jeremiah's not staring, but it's hard not to see that he's- he's got a bulge, which, Jay has noticed earlier- not for any perverse reasons!- but- how's it not a trick of light? Adam's the same as Jay, isn't he??

Does that mean Jeremiah could one day- whipping his eyes back down to the pancake batter, Jay mixes with all the carefully controlled violence he's capable of. This is fine. Everything is fine. Adam promised to help him along with whatever aspect of 'transition' he needs or wants, so. All fine!

Thankfully for Jeremiah's mortification, Adam doesn't initiate conversation when handing him his coffee nor when stealing freshly cooked pancakes before Jay's done frying them all. At the same time, unfortunately, Adam is hovering far too close and taking his turn to stare. Since turning up the heat would do nothing but burn the remaining batter, all Jeremiah can do about it is try to distract himself while he's still busy.

Adam's cup clicks against the fancy, tiled counter top, empty by the sound of things.

"So... You say the binder helps you feel better even when you're doing 'womanly' shit? Quotation marks, nothing's inherently womanly or whatever. D'you... Would you be willing to try something even more masculinising? Since you're gonna be doing mostly domestic work around here." Fiddling with his hands, Adam stares, head cocked and lips pursed.

Oh. Jeremiah takes a deep breath. "It's that hormone you take, yeah?Tesrone- uh, whatever it's called."

"Testosterone!" Brighter in a blink, Adam leans closer, "Yeah, it's that. Makes you more hairy, changes your fat distribution to be more masculine, makes muscle gain easier and drops your voice, among the most immediately noticeable changes. D'you wanna know more?" He's shining, brown-bronze eyes crinkled and grin sharp and fox-like.

Deep breath, again. More or less needlessly flipping the pancakes, just to check they've cooked on both sides, Jeremiah bites his lip. "Mhm. Is this a faustian bargain type of deal?" He asks, unloading the pancakes onto the plate.

"Oh, absolutely. One hand, you get a will to live and a body that feels more yours, but on the other, male pattern baldness and bad skin. Look at this shit!" Adam leans in, lifting his messy and admittedly slightly greasy raven hair from covering his forehead, "I'm only twenty six, and it's already killing me." Playful, he combs the hair back in place with his fingers, and upleans closer to Jay's face, "Also, you get a T-dick." Mock-whispering, he hides his teeth behind a pointy smile, face as though composed of impish edges.

A T-dick-

Adam laughs, bouncing back with another stolen pancake. He gets a little crumb in his sharply trimmed beard as he takes a bite, and in his washed up, stretched out moon design t-shirt draping a bit oddly over his warm tan, he looks startlingly like any other guy; could Jeremiah get the same?

Swallowing, Adam wipes his chin, taking the crumb off with it. "I'd show you, but I've already got surgery so it wouldn't be a good example. Eh, there's pictures online and shit." He shrugs, "Everything else, you can pretty much just see looking at me. Except, I get hot and hungry more easily? Hm, my endurance got worse, but as I said, muscle grows faster and more defined with less effort, so it's not a terrible trade-off. There's ways to mitigate the hair loss and whatnot-"

"How do I get it?" Jay cuts him off, putting the pan in the sink and taking a pancake for himself. His coffee, predictably, got cold while he was cooking. Still, hiding in a coffee mug is more unassuming than staring at the floor, probably.

"I've got to take my shot for today, still." More subdued yet clearly still smiling, Adam tears off a chunk of pancake, seemingly swallowing without chewing like the terrible creature he is, "Wouldn't be much trouble giving you a dose, too."

Oh, Lord. No, Adam was wrong, the jet lag immunity isn't the only good proof for a loving God. The real proof is that Jeremiah managed to set his sights on pickpocketing the one man who would give him all this in return for coming clean.

Although- "Shot? Like, needles?"

For a split second furrowing his brows, Adam brightens again, swallowing another small chunk of pancake. "Yeah, but if you hate getting stabbed, 's not a big deal. There's gel and pills, too! We'd have to wait a bit before we get them, though, since I don't use those. You're lucky I'm the founder-owner-CEO-whatever of an NGO that deals with transition and stuff, it'd be harder to get our hands on more T without going the legal route. That's not only a while longer, but also, scary as fuck if you escaped some technically-legal abusive environment, which you did, so. Lucky! I'll figure out a way to get you some-"

"I'd like to try now." Jeremiah interrupts, again. Tenses up. Impolite.

Smiling so widely it must hurt, Adam strides over, puts the plucked pancake back on the plate and pokes non-too-gently under Jay's ribs. "I was trying to buy time for my impulsive ass, this is not proper risk-aware medical practice. But, I'm also not going back on my word, so, let me go print out an informational leaflet so we can at least pretend I'm not breaking the law, yeah?"

"You flew me here in a private jet specifically to bypass the customs." Unimpressed, Jeremiah crosses one arm over his toro and takes a bite of his own half-forgotten food. It gets him a rough mussing of his freshly cut hair and, predictably, no response other than laughter as Adam shoves his head and takes off sprinting out the room.

Huffing lightly, amused, Jay finally takes a sip of his barely tepid coffee. It's rich, deliciously bitter, and the vanilla does add a little something; he could convince Adam to make coffee with ice cream all the time, if he's lucky.

Or he could just make it himself, since he'll be working the kitchen. He glances at the imposing, shiny coffee machine.

... Maybe not.

By the time he's finishing the second pancake, Adam pokes into the kitchen, waving some pastel papers through the door. "It's done! Come find me in my room when you've finished, I'll be getting everything out meanwhile." With that, he's gone again, the stairs thudding under his feet.

Needless to say, Jeremiah swallows the rest of his pancake in possibly worse offence to nature than Adam did.

He forces himself to stretch to get the food to fall down at least somewhat, and tries to walk like a normal person. Keyword being 'tries'. Scaling the stairs two at a time, he paces with the biggest steps he can keep looking somewhat acceptable to polite society toward Adam's door; it's open, so Jay slips in easily.

At his vanity, Adam has arranged two medical-looking tiny bottles of clear liquid, a syringe, a bunch of bandaids and- and packed needles, okay, of course. With a deep breath, Jeremiah shuts the door, and goes to get the papers Adam has gestured him toward while rummaging in a med kit.

Most of the things on the pretty pastel infographics, Adam has mentioned, though there's also increased risk of some male-typical diseases such as cholesterol issues.

Just imagining himself with a careful beard, bigger, broader body, maybe even with a sharper jaw if he's lucky, has Jeremiah salivating too much to care much about some disease he has the smallest amount of knowledge on. He flips over to the final page-

Oh, that's what Adam meant by 'T-dick'. That. Does look sort of like a phallus. Good Lord. Jeremiah licks his lips. Yeah, no, he can deal with a needle for this. He glances over to Adam just in time to see him punch bubbles out of the assembled syringe.

That needle is sharp. Does Testosterone hurt? Jeremiah only got given shots once in his life, against his parents' will at that, and that hurt, and his parents hated it and tried to exorcise him and-

"Earth to Jeremiah?" Syringe lowered, Adam waves his free hand with furrowed brows and narrowed lips, "Are you sure you don't want to wait for gel? We can get you more informed and shit, and there won't be any needles involved. It's okay to take care of your brain first."

It's okay. Forcing himself to breathe, Jeremiah sets the pages down and takes a step closer. "You mentioned you need one, too? Could you do it on yourself first, then?" With his shoulders this tight and hands clutching at each other so hard in front of his chest, he must look like a prey animal. He swallows, shifts his arms to be crossed. A bit better.

Shifting his syringe-hand the slightest bit, Adam hums, light. "Sure, whatever. I do it on my left hip, usually." And, true to word, he lifts his t-shirt with his thumb and pushes his boxers down with the rest of his fingers, quick and practiced.

Taking a small turn to make his actions clearer, Adam brings the needle closer- he doesn't even flinch. Just injects, pulls out the needle, sets it down on a little napkin on the vanity and smoothly bandaids over the spot. He pulls his boxers back in place.

Sunny, Adam's smiling when Jeremiah finally looks back up to his face. "Better than coffee, I'm telling you. Coffee's for energy, this-" He pats his hip, "is for the will to use it. Does that make sense? 'M not a poet." Glancing around as though he's searching for something, he takes off to his closet, and pulls out a box from the bottom, "D'you wanna do it yourself or for me to do it? If me, I have an idea that might calm you."

Oh. Hm. Adam clearly knows what he's doing, so it's probably a better idea to have him take care of it. Plus, the idea of stabbing himself with a needle damn near makes Jeremiah's legs give out; is it even a choice when the answer's so obvious? "You, please. You know all of the safety precautions and such, it only- what's that?"

"Oh!" Showing off the sleek, shimmery green on one side and smooth black on the other item, Adam glows, "It's a blindfold. One of my employees got it for me after I've complained about struggling to sleep one too many times, but it turns out I hate being unable to see when my eyes are open, so I've put it in the shame box. I hear these help people calm down, and in your particular case, you won't have to see what I'm doing! So it'll probably be less scary."

Jay bites his lip, walks over to where Adam sits on the ground with the blindfold offered out. "It's shaped weird." Taking the thing, he turns it over, soft material weirdly attached. Are the sockets meant to cover the eyes?

"That's so it can block out the most light. I hated that, but who knows, it might work better for you." Up from the floor, Adam extends a hand asking for the blindfold back, looks up to Jeremiah's face and adjusts the sockets a bit. He raises it up, as though to put on Jay, before pausing, "Oh, would you like to do that yourself, actually? I should've asked before just going for it."

Adam will- have him blindfolded, specifically to inject him with a drug. What was it Jeremiah's parents used to say about strangers and why can't he bring himself to feel anything but warm anyway, as though a cosy fireplace heating his face, chest and abdomen?

... Too warm, mouth watering at the very idea of- Adam, his hands around Jay's head adjusting the straps that will hold the blindfold in place, body no doubt going at least somewhat flush with Jay because of their height difference or- or Jay bowing down-

Mechanically, gingerly, Jay takes the blindfold for himself and fits it over his eyes. Another, highly specific reason to believe in God is, his complexion makes it very hard to notice when he blushes, as deep and vivid as his skin is.

Given the heat in his cheeks, it may just be noticeable anyway- Adam pushes him, no, guides him until his back is to the wall. The vanity and the door are to the left of him, now, the closet to the right; focus on recalling what the room looks like, imagine it from this angle, it's fine.

A gentle touch lifts up his t-shirt a bit over his right hip, takes his hand up to hold it. Jeremiah didn't know heat could pool from his body and between his legs this fast, didn't know he could be so warm. His cargo shorts get pushed down on one side, his boxers follow, and Adam secures it in place with Jay's other hand; is it possible to get light-headed off touch?

"Count your breathing so you keep your stress in check, okay? Four or five for in, hold and out is good to start with." Cheerful as ever from a little bit to the left, Adam says. Jay forces his lungs to drag in air, so much colder than his body. Somehow, counting in his head does nothing to dissipate the heat, the soft simmer remaining even.

He counts as he breathes, overly aware of the whisper-crackle of needle packaging and the sound of a tiny glass bottle being lifted off tile. It clinks back down after another count of five, and the clatter of a nail against the plastic of a syringe rings twice. Two more counts, another short clack, Adam's steps walking over; the rabbit who took over Jeremiah's heart must've been running a race to get there.

Pressing into him, Adam pins Jay's right leg in place with his own. Warm, smelling of vanilla, coffee and something heavy, musky just underneath, he hums, probably meant in comfort. "Counting?"

Jeremiah hums back, nods. A cold swab that just swiped against his hip pulls back, callused fingers framing over where it was.

"Good. Now listen to me count and follow, okay? Right now, in. One, two, three, four, five-" Adam starts, there's a pinprick in Jay's hip, a weird pinch, Adam pulls his hand away, "-two, three, four five, you can let out your breath, now." The same hand, left, ruffles gently through Jeremiah's hair.

Breathing out slowly, like a balloon deflating, Jeremiah eases his muscles. Adam has pulled away; so, he pushes off the blindfold, looking over just in time to see the needles be thrown in the trash. He kind of really wants to slide down the wall, and a hug. Adam's scent lingers in his nostrils.

Scratch this being God, it can only be demonic temptation.

"Fears overcome, damn! Good job, Jay-Jay. Want me to go grab us a victory snack or something?" Packing up the med kit, Adam grins.

Well. Jeremiah was never heading for Heaven; might as well bask in the liquid salvation warming his veins while it lasts. Unsteady, he smiles back and gives a thumbs up. Adam tells him to wait on the bed.

He got so much more than he bargained for when trying to get money for groceries in the only way he could think of. 'Lucky' doesn't cut it; Jeremiah must be wickedly blessed, or maybe cursed.

So long as he gets to keep this, he doesn't care.

(author's note: yes, their names are jeremiah and adam. don't question it and don't read into the symbolism unless you wanna be disappointed (or to surprise me), because i sure didn't, i was just handed these names by The Brain and rolled with it WHEEZE)

#slovo writes #writing #writeblr #transgender #transmasc #trans man #original character #tw needle #blind fold #suggestive #forcemasc #tw religious themes #religious trauma #tell me if i missed any tags !! enjoyyy #might post this on ao3 or write more for these hoes. who knows #hope you like !!#tell me what think reblog reuse recycle /hj /nf

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blindingspark · 1 year

Text

Shelter

A downpour over Thanalan's region urges the warrior of light and their companion to hunker down for the evening; personal revelations are wont to come to light in the ember glow of a warm hearth. Rating: Mature-ish [Brief mentionings of their love lives... or lack thereof] Pairing: Zenos/WoL Notes: A VERY lengthy revision of an older fic in the 'nebulous adventurer au', packed with emotional constipation, soul searching and most definitely rolling w/ my headcanon of Ace!Zenos [more specifically Demi but choo choo on the ace train] I hope you enjoy this labour of love!

A rare downpour had begun to cover the arid landscape of Thanalan, aided by the steady rumbling of thunder in the distance and putting a pause to the travels of two adventurers.

Tucked away in some forgotten little settlement, an au ra quietly padded around their chosen home to wait out the storm, using a spare rag to dry their rain-soaked hair, mind turning as they periodically looked to the front door. As if waiting for someone…

It had been a half a year since they began their travelling partnership, the contrast between the Warrior of Light and their towering ward had more than their fair share of trials and victories in such a short span of time; yet in spite of knowing his prowess fully, the mage still found themselves fretting over him-

The sound of the heavy door opening caused Auri to jump, magenta eyes wide as they looked to the entry- shoulders then relaxing as their partner ducked slightly to enter, pulling the hood back after closing the door and locking it,

"Not a soul for malms, save for a few starving beasts." The drawl of the garlean's voice seemed disinterested as always, reaching up to undo the clasp on his cloak and shrugging it off his shoulders to hang it beside Auri's smaller one,

"You were away for some time, I was beginning to worry you had wandered off somewhere." The mage teased lightly, turning to watch the former crown prince as he went about the process of disarming himself, noting the faint smirk on his lips,

"Alas, tempting though it may be, we are simply passing through this land," he glanced over, idly undoing the buckles and shedding the bulkier pieces of armor as he did so, "Our arrangement notwithstanding."

Auri nodded, watching him for a few moments more and letting the quiet within the house settle in before they spoke once more,

"I'm glad you're safe, regardless."

Zenos paused, only for a moment, and set the last of his armor aside. It was a strange and delicate dance between them even months into their partnership; Auri had lost count of the lingering looks exchanged, the small gestures from nestling into the garleans side during a long carriage ride to feeling his hand resting on the small of their back during their rare visits to resupply. The moments of battle when he practically surrounded them like a fortress, the tandem back and forth utilizing their respective skills of magics and pure might to a seamless point… all of it had served to deepen the rather strange bond they shared.

It was during the moments like these, however, in the late hours of quiet and safety that seemed to unearth the untouched aspect between them.

It was no surprise to Auri that his was an upbringing and life of distance, apathetic coldness and violence; such traits had made him a force of reckoning upon the battlefield- their past duels also serving as a testament as such.

Their travels, as the mage would come to discover, had served to slowly begin chipping away at an otherwise impenetrable front the garlean had lived with; much remained the same, from his eagerness for a challenge and the thrill of a 'hunt' to his restlessness when they negotiated terms and haggled for goods, yet the changes that could be noticed seldom slipped the au ra's eye. Lingering on tomes and art rich with tales of eld, salvaging a piece of treasure that glistened that he would offer to them- oft under the pretense of 'not needing such a trinket himself'- and a certain air of domesticity when they would settle for a time in their travels…

Auri's attention was drawn back upon hearing their name called, blinking owlishly and craning their neck as he stood no more than a few ilms away, hands on his hips and with a look that they could daresay bordered on curious,

"Wh… yes?" They muttered, watching his head cant to the side slightly,

"Ah, you didn't hear me after all," he sighed, "How long has it been since your last meal?"

"My last…" their brows furrowed, "Back in that encampment, why?"

"You were staring as though you were faint."

"I-" they then huffed, mirroring his stance while their tail flicked with faux offense, "I learned from your last grousing, sir!"

A sly smile then appeared on his lips, reaching up and brushing a few stray damp hairs from their face,

"Good. I'd rather you not collapse during our travels a second time." Zenos said simply, knowing full well his gesture was leaving the mage flustered, "What then, pray tell, had you lingering so, hmh?"

Auri's mouth opened to respond, then shut, pressing to a firm line as they thought and settled on a small shrug,

"Planning ahead, since it seems we're safe for a time we can take a breather, no?"

The garlean hummed, glancing at the nearest window at the low, crackling thunder outside their temporary home before turning his attention back down to his companion,

"For the night, at least."

"Always in a rush," Auri tutted, reaching up to ruffle their hair and sighing, meeting his gaze and offering a smile, "I suppose I'll go rest up in that case, and I trust you'll do the same, hm?"

Zenos looked them over, taking their word as rhetorical and making his way over to the nearby chair situated by the fireplace within the main living space and settling down- a silent addition to their arrangement was the garlean ensuring they slept on the bed wherever they settled, while he fully contented himself to sleeping in a chair. Lingering as they watched him begin unbuckling his greaves, Auri's attention quietly shifted to the fitted under armor which- much to their own surprise the first time- left little to the imagination, the slight flex and relaxation of muscle in his arms and shoulders briefly made them wonder what it would feel like to run their hands along the expanse without the bulk of armor in the way-

"Did you have something to ask of me," he inquired, never turning his attention away from his task as he moved to the other armored boot,"Or am I to escort you to bed as well?"

"I- of course not, worry about yourself for a moment!" Auri squawked, wringing their hands and muttering a softer 'Good night' to him as they sought out the house's bedroom.

Closing the door behind them the mage reached up and rubbed their face, letting a low groan leave them before trying to ready themselves for the night, shedding their gear and changing into a more comfortable tunic to sleep in- a momentary pause as they slipped it over their head, remembering the previous owner of the spacious shirt, the previous owner who was currently in the other room… slowly pulling it on and feeling a warm fluttering in their chest as they recalled him handing the shirt to use as an easy sleep tunic, though the 'why' was lost to them.

Only within the last month or so had they noticed their attention lingering on him in such a fashion; during their moments of closeness, exploring the other with their hands, the tentative exchanges as if to test the boundaries of their bond and arrangement; wondering what it could be like if they crossed those lines, though a hesitation remained ever present if there was more they simply had yet to experience with the other.

Auri clambered into bed with a sense of self-contained frustration, letting out a huff as their attempts to focus could have burned holes into the nearest wall,

Gather yourself, Auritel, he was assigned to be your ward as the condition for the Alliance sparing his execution for a time, what would they possibly think if they knew the depths of your bond with him? You feel safe around him, but the fact remains it simply cannot be-

Squeezing their eyes shut, the au ra shifted onto their side and attempted to clear their mind, idly chewing on their lip at a passing thought and hugging the pillow to them, a faint scent that lingered in the fabric of their sleeve drawing their minds eye: metal and leather, a hint of fragrant, floral oil that was subtle unless at a close distance, a familiar combination… the mage subconsciously buried their nose in the cloth and held the pillow to their face, quietly indulging in the ingrained scent. The intention of not letting their mind wander failing as they imagined the warmth, the solidity, the near-overwhelming presence of the man who had become an unexpected comfort during their travels surrounding them- nearly swallowing them whole like a vast sea.

Their eyes opened to slits as the lingering, uncertain feelings stewed within them while they stared at the rumpled sheets, listening to the pitter-patter of rain and soft rumbling thunder outside… and finding themselves no closer to sleep.

Slowly pushing themselves up from the bed, Auri's gaze settled on the door- listening for any signs of restlessness from their companion. Their brows knit together, noting instead the strange level of… quiet there actually was.

With their attention on the entry the au ra's legs swung over the edge, allowing them to stand and quietly pad over to the door, doing their utmost to open it with at least some modicum of delicacy.

The door creaked slightly as it was pulled open, granting the mage a glimpse into the living space and settling on the garlean by the fireplace. Illuminated by the fire within the otherwise low-lit room, Zenos seemed to have his gaze fixated on the flames, cheek resting atop his knuckles while his elbow was perched on the arm of the chair, one leg crossed over the other and appearing almost statuesque-

"Is rest eluding you as well?" The inquiry caused Auri to wince, startled out of their little dip into voyeurism as Zenos turned his head slightly to address them.

"I… suppose it is," they murmured, opening the door further to slowly cross the room, gingerly sitting in the seat opposite of his and suddenly feeling quite bare.

Of course they would notice the way his gaze dragged over them in this state, wearing only their smallclothes and the shirt he had given to them, the look feeling faintly akin to a scorching caress before his attention returned to meeting their gaze,

"I take it a strange dream has haunted you, or perhaps it is simple restlessness?" asked the garlean, his tone giving no indication as to what belied the look he had given, watching the mage shift in their seat with their hands loosely clasped atop their lap,

"Restlessness, for certain," Auri said, giving a faint grin, "I ah, I never did get to say… thank you."

His brow perked, though he remained silent,

"When I fainted, I mean. You reminded me that I never thanked you when I came to…" their hands began fidgeting with the hem of the shirt, "You could have easily abandoned me to the elements for such a lacking foresight-"

"I am your ward, abandoning you would simply bring down the executioner's blade that much faster. Though I care naught, I would at least wish to see to the end of our hunt before such a time."

"Ward or no…" they sighed, "You carried me to safety in spite of it, so I feel it's only necessary to thank you for doing as such."

A brief silence settled between them, with Auri's shoulders relaxing at the small nod he gave them. Apologies and gratitude were foreign to someone like him, that much had become plain in their travels, though the moments where he could accept and return such things were treasured, rare as they were,

"I'm certain your Alliance would clutch their pearls if they heard you say such things," Zenos said, the faintest signs of a musing lilt to his voice; Auri blinked with slightly wider eyes, "Just as they would upon seeing you in such garb, or lack thereof."

Bare feeling, and suddenly very warm.

The au ra stiffened, pausing in their fidgeting with the edge of the shirt,

"I… perhaps," they shifted in their seat, finding it hard to look him in the eye as his attention remained unwavering upon them, "Though it is not the Alliance's place to pass judgment on my choice of sleepwear or where I rest."

"But of course," he replied, "I only say as such given how you have chosen the tunic I had given you more than once… Surely you would wear any other if given the chance?"

Auri's tail flicked as they swore a switch had occurred while they weren't looking, now faced with a seemingly returned deeper attraction beyond what they had already explored. The small voice in the back of their mind reminding them of how poorly this could all end should the Alliance find out, having already tested their limits with their shared affections,

"I could. Yours simply gives me…" they chewed on their lip, "Comfort. A feeling of safety, even."

At their admission Auri waved a hand dismissively, as if swatting away the flushed feeling creeping up the back of their neck, "But, ah, if my wearing this bothers you in any way, I can surely find something... something else."

"Truly?" He smirked, "You flatter me."

Cool blue eyes lingered on them, almost observant in place of the distinct heat from before, as though he had yet to witness his companion in such a state of dress. Even after growing as close as they had with him during their secret meetings within Gyr Abania and now in their travels, Auri could readily admit they still found themselves startled at times at the sheer intensity of his gaze, even in a relaxed setting such as this; the au ra shifted again and curled their tail into their lap,

"You seem especially focused," quietly teased the mage, moreso to alleviate the lingering air of awkwardness they had felt manifest, "I know your mind turns in fascinating ways, perhaps you could… share your thoughts?"

A small hum, and his attention moved at last from their being to meeting their gaze in return, the faint scrunch of his brow indicating something had begun to gnaw at him,

"Have you ever been intimate with another?" Zenos's tone remained steady, watching as his companion gawked at the question,

"I…" Auri paused, briefly chewing on their lip as they considered their answer, "I have… only twice, however, with the same partner."

They then gestured to the lounging garlean, "And you? I'm certain there were many in the Empire who find you attractive and would have loved to share your bed…" the words dipped into a moment of nerves as they wondered if they were treading too far-

"Hmh… no." He said simply, earning an owlish look from the mage, a silence settling between them briefly before he continued, "There were many who vied to share my bedchambers in the palace when I came of age, some for their own gain, others who claimed similarities to find common ground and leaving much to be desired when pressed; I had sent away nobility and consorts alike… though I hardly remember just how many faces came and went in all that time."

Auri's expression softened as they listened, carefully fidgeting in contemplation, "I'm sure the pressure was its own annoyance… most royalty and noble folk I've heard tales of would take any to bed who caught their eye simply because they could."

A small huff of acknowledgement came from the former prince, "I could scarce understand this apparent need that so many claimed to harbor. I had been taught at a young age the purpose of intimacy for royalty: 'Twas simply for ensuring heirs, any additional pleasure was coincidental. I did not wish to sire and I felt no stir regardless of who was put before me, much to the apparent disappointment of many." He replied, turning his head to look at them more directly, noting their solemn expression, "Does that answer displease you?"

Auri winced, attention snapping up from their wandering thoughts and shaking their head, "N-no! It's not… that, per se, I've no reason to doubt or be disappointed by your word, I suppose it's simply… not what I had expected." They said quietly, sighing and examining him, "Between your striking appearance and place in the Empire's hierarchy, I had imagined a few would have caught your eye, but after an answer such as that… I must admit my heart aches."

"Aches…?" Zenos repeated, "For what reason?"

A moment of hesitation was soon followed by the mage letting their hands go slack and pressing them to the cushion on either side of them as if to steady themselves upon the seat, "Having to deal with such things… the expectations set upon one to uphold even if they care naught for it," their head tilted faintly as they looked at their companion, "Though… albeit with less severity, I'm sure, I suppose such things are another similarity between us."

The garlean was silent, though the faint scrunch upon his brow remained; wordlessly pressing them to continue. Auri exhaled through their nose, attention lowering to trace the swirls of the woodgrain in the floorboards, "When I was first deemed the Warrior of Light all manner of folk wished for my hand, especially as time went on and my travels took me far and beyond my simple beginnings with thaumaturgy."

Their expression hardened the longer they stared, "I discovered the fine line early on between who wished to bed me for their own gain and who seemed to have an earnest attraction, the latter being less… frequent."

"It would seem that snakes make their nests in any place that provides." He said, a slight distance present in his tone, "They would think themselves proud hunters when they are no more than shallow opportunists."

They snickered half-heartedly, "Aye, that they are… my already limited trust was further strained regardless. I've gained a stronger resolve for myself since then, which has been a pleasant boon in its own way."

A flash of lightning brightened the room, pulling their attention to the windows and listening as the rain endured, thinking of the time and wondering how long idle chatter had occupied the two of them; a passing thought drew them back to the former prince, a request… if they could give voice to it.

"...Zenos? If I may," His level gaze remained on them, silently accepting their unknown query, "It's rather late, and…"

The caster chewed on their lip upon choosing their next words, slowly standing and making their way over to stand before the garlean with fidgeting hands. Hands which then reached out to him, "Would you… accompany me to bed? It would be more comfortable than that chair, at the very least."

A faint knitting of his brows was the only response he deigned to give at first, eventually looking to their hands and rising from his own seat- feeling them tentatively grasp his hand and holding it between their own smaller ones.

The travelers studied one another in the firelight and occasional lightning flash, with Auri offering a sheepish smile to him,

"I assure you there is no deception in my offer, and I'm glad you are accepting it…" they said, stepping back and tugging his hand to lead him back to the bedroom they had otherwise claimed for themselves.

Zenos looked to the bed upon entering, a rather skeptical scan of such an aged piece of furniture yet obliging his friend all the same; crawling onto the plush surface which groaned beneath him as he settled on his side and looked to the warrior of light, noting the way they hesitated briefly before slowly moving to lay on their side opposite of him. Another bout of rolling thunder sounded outside and coaxed the au ra to speak,

"It's far from the most comfortable of beds, but 'tis enough to serve its purpose for tonight…"

"I have certainly slept on worse."

The feeling of him reaching to brush some of their hair from their face startled Auri from their spiraling thoughts, meeting his gaze with widened eyes, "I… my apologies, I was…"

Auri chuckled at his blunt reply, giving a conceding nod and adjusting to make themselves more comfortable before the two resumed observing the other in the limited lighting, the thoughts from earlier slowly creeping to the forefront of Auri's mind again at such close proximity. They had entertained the idea more than once even before they were granted permission to venture out into the wider expanses of Eorzea, yet the uncertainty of how he would respond to further affections gave them cause to hesitate.

Would it be too much?

Would all they had cultivated together crumble when stepping past the boundaries of the other?

They had spoken on such things here and there on their journeys, their bond as companions absolute, and yet…

"Drawn to the musings of your mind again," he muttered, "Perhaps you would share which pulls you away at such a time?"

Their cheeks bloomed with warmth, chewing on their lip out of nervous habit until they slowly reached in return, resting their hand upon his cheek and feeling him still,

"I have been… thinking. What… is this? What do we have between us?" Auri asked at last, watching as he studied their face yet retaining his own unreadable expression,

"I suppose such an inquiry would be best answered by you," Zenos replied, "What would you call this?"

A long pause settled between them, "I… suppose," the au ra sighed, "Companionship on the surface… something more deeply intertwined beneath a simple partnership? Driven by a bond we had formed from being tools of those who would use our skills, culminating in what transpired in the gardens in Ala Mhigo…"

Their hesitation returned, "I have… grown to understand how I feel, about this- about you, and yet… I am afraid we see the other the same but through different lenses."

This time the garleans brows knit together faintly, "You're afraid I would reject further affections…"

They winced, "...Aye."

He uttered a faint hum at that, taking his hand away and hearing the sharp inhale from his companion before he came to rest an arm around them and pulled the mage close, tense as though bracing themselves for whatever came next,

“I know naught if there is a means to answer your query, yet I know that ours is a bond forged from the inferno upon the battlefield, and I intend to maintain it beyond even the grasping claws of death.”

"I have viewed courtship and similar rituals to be trite, an attempt to rattle the tedium of life with worthless embellishments… pursuing that which was ultimately meaningless if it were not for one's own gain," he said, "I saw no reason to indulge in something so fleeting when I looked to those around me."

Auri found themselves grasping at the material of his shirt, eyes down as they listened and felt the tense coiling in their gut remain steadfast while the tip of their tail flicked with their thoughts,

Their eyes widened at his words, looking up at him and finding their voice caught in their throat, “I…”

The mage’s lips pressed to a firm line, taking a deep breath and reaching to draw his attention and meeting his gaze briefly as they pulled him closer, unsure of what drove them as they tentatively pressed their lips to his briefly; as they realized their impulse decision the au ra pulled away with a string of hushed apologies, scarce noticing the look upon his face as he stared before he pulled them back in.

His inexperience with such a gesture revealed itself in his haste, hungrily chasing after another kiss and then another, only steadied upon Auri’s fingers tangling in the length of blond- his particular talent for swift learning soon revealing itself again as he eased and slowed in their exchange as a result.

When they next came up for air the garlean pulled away slowly, face mere ilms from Auri’s own with widened eyes and the faint dustings of flushed skin upon his cheeks and chest. A flustered chuckle bubbled up in the mage when the butterflies settled at last, noting how their companion had shifted and now loomed over them in their excitement,

“That… I…” Auri swallowed hard, loosening their grasp on his hair to run their fingers through it again, settling on cupping his cheeks, “I believe that answers my question.”

The riled look upon his face softened to a familiar and smug smile, lowering to steal another kiss as he settled on his side again,

“Good… I would rather there be no uncertainty with what we have.” he uttered after a moment, pulling his companion close again, a certain satisfaction manifesting within him as the tension had since released from their shoulders to hold him in turn.

The storm continued beyond the walls yet had eased in its intensity, allowing the moon’s glow to shine through more easily and illuminating the room, a softened hum leaning Auri as they nestled against their companion… their lover,

“Perhaps this storm was a boon to us after all.” they muttered with a smile, his radiating warmth and steadying heartbeat had granted newfound ease which pulled the weary adventurer down to a restful lull.

The worries of the world could wait until the storm passed.

#Cata Writes #zenos x wol #zenoswol #zenos yae galvus #ffxiv #otp: aurinos #posting this at not 6am on a goof it's fiiiine totally fine #get ready for Slow Burn [Ultimate] y'all

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askthedreemurr-fontfamily · 2 years

Note

What would the familes pokemon teams consist of each?

I feel whatever answer I'd give in comic wouldn't be able to do this justice, so I'm doing it here! Warning, it gets long

Frisk- Frisk is a very energetic kid who loves helping people. They don't like serious fights, but and wouldn't like seeing their Pokémon get hurt. They also love dogs. So, their team would consist of; Feliz the Plusle, PUBBY! the Yamper, YipKip the Swampert, Bearhug the Bewear, Bun Hun the Lopunny, and their ace/Partner, Sauvé the Sylveon. I also imagine they have a team purely of dog Pokémon, love breeding Eevee's (they're trying to get all perfect shiny Eeveelutions. Or just all shiny Eeveelutions) and would get easily distracted trying to do small side quests. Their boxes are full of cute baby Pokémon. And Eevees. Mostly Eevees. They also can't wait until Scarlett and Violet, purely because of Fidough, Pawmi and Smoliv.

Chara- Chara would take a very serious approach to battling. I imagine she pretends to be all stoic and uncaring like Cyrus, however their high friendship Pokémon prove otherwise (Looking at you Cyrus's Crobat). They also enjoy history. Chara's team consists of; Oriana the Umbreon, Salem the Mismagius, Cerridwen the Delphox, Chaplin the Mr. Rime, Valkyrie the Hisiuan Braviary and her ace/partner, Fluffybuns the Shiny Gogoat. Chara would also have a variety of other Pokémon, many related to history/mythology. She'd also breed Eevee's, though they'd have less than Frisk. Darwin and Eva are the two they'd use purely for breeding. Though other than Oriana, Neoma is the only other Eeveeulution she'd have. If Chara was ever in a Legends Arceus scenario, they'd thrive.

Asriel- Asriel would be a serious trainer, though not competitive like Exxy. I imagine he'd be strong because of the connection he shares with his Pokémon. His team would consist of; Galade, Togekiss, Florges, Dragonair, Clefairy, his ace/partner is a Zororak (Either Unovan or Hisiuan would work). I feel he favors Fairy and Dragon Pokémon. Also all his siblings are confused as to why he doesn't name his Pokémon. "I don't need to name my Pokémon to form a fictional attachment to them." He responds. He doesn't want to admit he's bad at names.

Exriel- Exriel is a very competitive trainer, who's focused on strategies and stats and stuff. However will use non viable Pokémon out of spite. His team is; Snek Snek the Serperior, Imposter the Amoonguss, Terry Jr the Tangrowth, Buttercup the Roserade, Spiky BOI the Ferrothorn, his ace is Wedex Jr the Sunflora. Yes his team is all grass types. He's still able to win against trainers with advantage.

Azerian- Azerian's style would likely be similar to Asriel's, except edgier. However I also feel he's a competitive battler like Exxy. His team; Soft the Altaria, Ashton the Charizard, Monke the Rillaboom, Deer the Sawsbuck, Dans the Gengar and his ace Mallory the Absol. He's also at names, but still nicknames his Pokémon.

Toriel- Toriel is very loving and caring. She wouldn't battle that much unless she needs to. She's caring and motherly, yet fierce and strong. Her team would be; Clefable, Blissey, Nidoqueen, Kangaskan, Appletun and her ace, Arcanine. She'd also have a Ninetails, and likely help raise lots of baby Pokémon.

Sans- Sans is lazy, yet ridiculous strong when he does battle. His team would consist of; Glaceon, Alolan Marowak, Glalie, Slaking, Snorlax and his ace is Gengar. He cares deeply for all his Pokémon, which is how they work so well with him, even if he falls asleep during battle sometimes.

Sariel- Sariel is still a baby, but she grows up to be a very responsible and self-sufficient young lady. Hypothetical Pokémon she'd have would be; Aron, Happiny, Munchlax, Budew, Togepi, Riolu, Mime Jr., Teddiursa, Snom, Abra, Eevee, etc. As for an actual team she could have in the future...; Lucario, Ursaring, Espeon, Alakazam, Frostmoth and her partner would be Aggron.

-Petra

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terrence-silver · 1 year

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I just cut my foot to the point I'm questioning that I might need to go to the the ER so if it wouldn't be a inconvenience to you Bea can you write some headcanons or a little story about how terry would take care of beloved with a foot or leg injury please. thanks!!!! Always and forever much love! your writing are the highlights of my days🥰❤️

---

― Personal care is taken that beloved's foot is looked over, checked, bandaged, cleaned, disinfected on the spot --- the wound in question meticulously stared at by Terry, like he has a private fascination with whatever injury beloved sustained, appearing a little like a frenzied, hungry animal when faced with the mishap. Thing is, even their hurt is beautiful, erotic and alluring to him, always --- heck, especially their hurt. Their blood. The cut. The fractured tender flesh. The inflammation. The swelling. The redness. All the ways they wince, limp and sweetly moan in pain, shying away when he touches them exactly in the right, or rather wrong places, making beloved so very responsive and sensitive, not realizing he is enjoying himself a little way too much, to a perverse degree. Getting a huge kick out of it. Getting a kick out of the way his finger ever so slightly squeezes the cut while he is micromanaging its healing purely so he can watch the blood ever so slightly leak under pressure, getting stuck under his nail. Terry is a sadist and his sadism is always there, even when he is genuinely helpful and employing ever technique he knows to fix the hurt.

― And fix it he does, singlehandedly, perfectionist that he is, having enough military training to know how to mend a wound all on his own, kneading and stretching the leg to check if it is functional; a ritual observed and well-repeated, upon his strictest insistence, daily, in the weeks to come and having a somewhat fetishized quality to him in spite of it being genuinely and ironically helpful --- in fact, he is somewhat determined on having the explicit pleasure of doing so on his own even though a private doctor (or even a team of them) is well on their way, Terry still doesn't wish over to hand over the pleasure and privilege of fixing you to a medical worker because this is private. It is intimate. This moment, and all moments pertaining to beloved's distress, ache and pain belong solely to him as well as their pleasure, along with all the nuances and the in's and out's of their body. By the time whatever high-end doctors Terry employs arrive on the scene of the accident, the leg would've already been fixed and sanitized and they've nothing to do but, at best, prescribe antibiotics and the needed medications. Is Terry privately smug and content about it? Yes. Yes, he is. Of course he did a bang-up job with it.

― Is there also a slight jealousy, though? Or rather, huge concealed jealousy? Of the irrational, near delusional kind? Due to beloved sustaining an injury all on their own and the fact Terry didn't get to be the sole cause behind it, whether consensually or otherwise? The answer is also yes. Everything here is about ultimate and pathological amounts of control. Terry fixing the leg wound and doing a shockingly and frighteningly good job at it. Terry being bothered he wasn't the reason behind it, this, say, sprained ankle, and as such, its creator. ER? Going to the ER? Why? When he is right there. Terry being too territorial to hand this over to a professional. Terry the micromanager. Terry the devoted lover. Terry the sadist. Terry, the master of pain. Terry ensuring he utilizes this injury to significantly limit beloved's movements under the guise of rest and recovering. Terry the schemer. Terry intentionally overblowing the severity of the situation to have an excuse to control beloved. Terry in love. Terry in love to the maddening degree that he can't bear the idea of beloved merely having an accident and getting hurt entirely on their own without him somehow being involved in all of it.

― Which is why this injury must go poste-haste --- be annihilated, terminated, dealt with --- and it does, due to Terry viewing it as an intrusive, intolerable, enemy, alien presence on his beloved's body, which heals in no time at all under his meticulous care and, in fact, over-caring. Must've learned how to do that in Vietnam, huh? Must've learned that through the mere fact that he is a blackbelt martial artist, and thus, knows how to manage the tools of his trade; the human body. Limbs. The things he fights with. Except, a couple of months later, beloved mysteriously might just sustain another eerily similar injury on their foot. The exact same foot. On the exact same place. One Terry orchestrates and oversees under the guise of it being yet another an ''accident''. They could've tripped because he deliberately guided them somewhere they could trip. Maybe he '''bashfully''' ran into them. Options are endless. Of course, none of this is an accident, and this wound too, heals in no time at all, but that is hardly the point. This is something Terry gave to beloved. Something that originated from him and him alone even though beloved doesn't realize that, instead of it mere happenstance and uncontrollable conditions. Now, they have something he gifted them. He won't be outmaneuvered by unpredictable events.

There's a tactical upside to this, though --- pre-planned.

Beloved getting hurt for the second consecutive time. Tsk. Tsk

Clearly, they can't be left alone to mingle out and about, so prone to injury.

They have to stay put, overseen by Terry Silver. Always.

He wants the best for them, after all. He is the best for them.

#wishing you a quick recovery #and wow this turned out dark #terry silver #tw; sadism #tw; gaslighting #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved

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min-jpg · 3 years

Text

giving genshin characters consecutive kisses

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Xiao

Genre: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive for some characters(sfw overall)

Summary: scenarios where you give them multiple kisses + their reaction

ehe i had fun writing this and i hope you'll enjoy it too <3

---

"ALBEDO,

do you want to carry out an experiment?"

He was probably occupied with his work or one of his many experiments. Like a magic word, Albedo was instantly intrigued the moment you expressed your interest in conducting your own experiment. Brushing aside his bangs that hover over his face, you gently pecked his forehead. You proceeded with the corners of his lip after seeing how they twitched slightly from your first kiss. Curious to know his reaction, you took a moment to study what facial expression he wore. Albedo locked eyes with you and hummed, urging you to go on with your so-called experiment. Acknowledging his approval, you drifted down and moved away his collar. Your lips came to greet the center of his neck where the conspicuous diamond-shaped tattoo adorned his Adam's apple. Admiring the shape, your fingers lightly traced the outline. When you finally tilted your head up to look at Albedo. He wore a smile, but his eyes alluded otherwise,

"Having fun with that little experiment of yours? Let me have a try."

"CHILDE,

for the last time, I don't want to fight!"

With his unbridled competitive spirit, Childe has been whining on and on for a friendly match. To shut him up, you kissed him directly on his lips. "How about we compete on how many kisses you can handle from me?" Fumbling to conceal the imminent regret creeping behind, you decided to just go with the flow. You smooched him again before he could make petulant remarks to mock your embarrassing proposal. After lingering a little longer than the initial kiss, silence fell between the both of you. Licking your lips, you did not particularly mind savoring this moment, but you moved on. When you left a kiss on the tip of his nose, Childe plastered a childish countenance, complaining at you to retreat back to his lips. You rolled your eyes playfully. Instead, you gave a teasing and fleeting bite on his earlobe where the red ruby earring hangs. You pulled away to scrutinize his reaction. Of course, he has that assertive smirk showing how much he is getting a kick out of this. Except, the smirk was accompanied by the distinguishing pink tint on his cheeks. You were so close to just turn around and dash away, but Childe held your arm,

"This sounds like an excellent plan, but give me a moment before we continue this elsewhere."

"DILUC

c'mon! It's been days since I last received a kiss."

Still maintaining his gaze on the wine glass he was cleaning, Diluc mumbled, "Wait until my shift is over." You huffed and pouted, exaggerating your dissatisfaction. Diluc is a man who holds privacy in high regard when it comes to his personal affairs. With how packed his schedule is with both work and acting as a vigilante, the two of you may lack quality time together. Taking matters into your own hand, you drop by Angel's Share frequently just to see him. Lifting yourself to gain some alleviation by pushing your palms against the bar counter, you surprised Diluc with a peck on the cheek. Finally garnering his attention, he looked at you briefly before turning his head left and right to ensure none of his patrons noticed. His ponytail swayed along with the motion, luring you to almost tug on it to bring him closer, but controlled your manners. When he faced you once more, you closed the gaps till both your foreheads touched before he could reprimand you. Diluc's eyes soften as they connected with yours, creating an intimate atmosphere. It was as if only the two of you were present within the establishment. "Please?" You brushed your lips against his before giving the kiss. You let go, tilted your head for a better angle and went back in for another one. The change in approach deepened your kiss. Contended, you pulled away and grinned, resting your forehead against his again. Diluc grumbled, but presented a small smile regardless,

"I'm sorry, but I promise there will be a continuation to this."

"KAEYA,

can you calm down and listen to me?"

After a horrendous day, your emotions loomed with pure spite. You may have inadvertently lashed out at Kaeya. It sparked unnecessary misunderstanding and tension between the both of you. With Kaeya's silent and cold gaze weighing you down, it quickly switched to an unnerving experience. Your outburst was unjustified since he was not the emanation of your bitterness. Standing his ground, Kaeya's arms crossed waiting for your explanation. Instead of using words, you brashly collided your lips against his. You desperately sought his kisses. Seemingly unfazed by the sudden intimacy, Kaeya responded by sliding his tongue in to meet yours. You shuddered, but backed away, "Finally willing to listen?" Leaning forward again with no hesitation, you aimed for his neck and protruding collarbones with ardent love bites without wasting a breath. The kisses harbored your intense vexation. In a way, you were just having a moment of indulgence to pacify your irritation. You do so with ample kisses, bites, and licks around his neck down to his chest to quell the insatiable flame of sensation surging up your chest. Kaeya puffed out a sigh, grabbing your chin to look at him,

"Don't get mad at me. I'll help you relax, hmm?"

(angry makeout session am i right???)

"ZHONGLI

how much have you experienced human affection?"

Eyes flickering with curiosity, he tapped his chin, "I didn't think I was required to keep track." You softly giggled at his vague answer. Such a typical answer from the former archon. Reaching out for his hand and lacing both your fingers together, you escorted them to meet your lips. Your breath tickled Zhongli's slender fingers as you took your sweet time to give them innocent and fond kisses. His inquisitive stare questions your intention, but you continued by kissing his knuckles instead. That meticulous way of yours made sure each finger and knuckle gaps have all their angles smothered in your adoration. This pure action reflects how much you treasure the man himself, even down to the tip of his fingers. Your earnest smooches ignited a chuckle from Zhongli. Diverting your attention back to him, he gazed at you with devotion in his eyes as he beamed with a cordial smile,

"Mortals have a peculiar way of showing love. But, I don't dislike it."

(this is for yall with hand kink-)

"XIAO,

do you know how much I love you?"

Knowing how Xiao has always been keen to self-deprecating and wallow in self-loathe, you wanted to show your affection through your actions. Cupping both his cheeks, you instantly noticed how he averted his eyes and wanted to move away from your grasp. Already anticipating his refusal, you moved quickly to give him numerous fervent pecks on his face sporadically. You made sure to squeeze in lavish praises for him as well, "I appreciate you so much. You're always doing your best to protect me and others, even when the one who gets hurt the most is you. Xiao, I hope you can see how much I truly love you." He eventually settled down and his eyes fluttered from every kiss he received, sometimes granting you the opening to swiftly leave a few on his eyelids when they closed. It was a sign he trusted you. Fiddling with his fingers from being anxious, blush spreads across his face, depicting that he did not despise the attention. Seeing how red his cheeks were just enticed you to shower much more kisses around the vicinity compared to others until he reached out to touch your hand to shift your attention,

"Could you please kiss me on the lips as well? If you are true to what you said."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin drabbles #albedo x reader #albedo genshin impact #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli genshin impact #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact

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fairyysoup · 2 years

Note

horny thot incoming: which danny character do you think eats pussy the best

i'm so glad you asked, i woke up today completely unhinged

18+ under the cut

1. Mr. Baron Zemo eats pussy like a champ and enjoys it, you cannot convince me otherwise.

2. Ernst Schmidt. He has that kind of feral quality about him that makes it really good. Probably enjoys it too, but in a spiteful way like he's trying to prove a point. Sexyman 10/10

3. Unpopular opinion but! I think Alex Kerner really goes for it. Like he's not super skilled but he enjoys it so much and pulls out all the stops and that makes it really good. Gives me "boyfriend who grinds against the bed while eating pussy bc he's so turned on by it" vibes.

4. Laszlo Kreizler purely because of medical knowledge. Not gonna contest whether or not he's canonically a virgin like daniel himself posited for the alienist bts interviews, I'm just saying mans knows where the clit is. If he got the chance he'd be good at it, case closed.

#i'm going to jail for this #good morning i guess #daniel brühl #asks #laszlo kreizler #baron zemo #alex kerner #ernst schmidt #mcu #helmut zemo #zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #the cloverfield paradox #good bye lenin #the alienist

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just-antithings · 3 years

Note

Reasons I hate the BNHA fandom (disclaimer: I haven't interacted with fandom in a while, because I prefer to enjoy things rather than feel spiteful all the time, so I don't know if this still happens):

1. Hating Endeavor and Mineta was, like, a requirement to prove you're a decent person, which made me incredibly salty towards people who hated Endeavor when he started to realize that he fucked up in later manga chapters (i'm a sucker for parents realizing they weren't they were wrong. Wish that happened in reality more often).

1.1. There was this trend of headcanonning Mineta and Endeavor as the only cishets on the show, because they're the Bad Ones. Imagine how this feels when you're a cishet person reading these types of posts. (was it satire? was it a joke? I dunno. It didn't say anywhere on the posts.)

2. I found myself hating Dabi purely out of spite because somehow Enji being an abusive parent was worse the Dabi killing innocent people. (Like, I didn't care at first because they're both fictional, but that kind of logic angered me so much I abandoned logic and became fueled only by spite. Not very good for health.)

3. BNHA is probably the first big fandom I've ever interacted with, so I was not ready to interact with anti's bullshit on such a large scale.

4. "I stg if Horikoshi redeems Tomura I'm- just give him the ending he deserves and kill him!" because we all know that 'Redemption' is Bad Writing, but "Killing A Character Because They're Bad" a timeless masterpiece. (I mean, any trope could be good or bad, but painting them like one of them is obviously the only correct way to do things is a bit stupid.)

5. Ship wars. I didn't get too involved with those because I had an idea of what they were like based on other people's accounts (and because when I didn't like a ship, I blacklisted its tag like a sane person). Still disheartening to hear about because they're just so dumb.

Like, this was my first time being part of a big fandom for an ongoing show and I just. Ended up hating the existence of people. I can't watch BNHA without eventually feeling bad about my feelings on certain characters (I saw my parents in Endeavor and I was so, so happy when his character started changing for the better. And Mineta is just...he's just there to be The Pervert, right? There is no character, so I don't really hate him. I just don't like him either. I don't care for Mineta, basically.)

Now every time I think of a plot for a fic involving the characters and my OCs I just...feel bad. I feel like I can't enjoy the show like I did before, even after I removed myself from fandom completely. Like, I didn't care if other people hated Endeavor for whatever reason; I just hated how apparently I was a bad person because I felt differently about him.

I'm sorry I talk about Endeavor a lot. Not only do I see my parents in him, but also myself if I'm not careful. This is how fiction affects reality for me; when I project on other characters, I see faults in myself, and I acknowledge them, when it could have been difficult for me to do so without this particular character that resonated with me so much. Same with Bakugo; I saw my short-tempered attitude in him and boy oh boy it's not a good look, is it? I can tell you my attitude towards my siblings has improved since I started watching the show in 2017.

Some people might think it's stupid to need a show to realize that I'm doing something wrong, but I don't really care. At least fictional characters can't tell me that I'm irredeemable.

In a nutshell: the BNHA fandom was the first time I witnessed morality being brought into fiction on a large scale, and it wasn't a very pleasant experience. I got out of that experience with bad feelings about myself and an immense hatred toward people.

(I'm sorry this got so long. If you think someone could benefit from reading this, post it. Otherwise, feel free to delete it. I'm not brave enough to post this on my personal blog.)

yeah the bnha fandom is awful

#mod erin #just anti things #ask #abuse mention

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littlegirldorothea · 3 years

Text

TALES FROM THE ROBBER CLAWS

CHAPTER ONE

Iseut knocked on the dark wooden door in front of her.

She knew better than to walk in one of Kaz Brekker’s rooms without any kind of warning. Even though the two of them were tied by a strange kind of friendship for a long time, Kaz had always been a very reserved man, and Iseut respected that. She heard muffled noises coming from behind the door and then the sound of quick footsteps approaching. A moment later the door opened and Iseut couldn’t hide a slight confused frown at the sight of a slender boy with freckles all over his face and a pair of goggles in his copper curls. That was definitely not Kaz. The boy stared at her without giving signs of wanting to say something, and Iseut, feeling challenged, stared back narrowing her eyes.

-Who is it, Wylan?- asked an annoyed voice from inside the room. That was Kaz. The boy, Wylan, opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off.

-It’s Iseut, Kaz. What have you done that you even need a bodyguard now?-

She heard a short chuckle. -Let her in, Wylan.-

The boy clumsily opened the door wide and stepped to the side to let her in with a shy smile. Once she was inside the narrow room, Iseut took off the scarf she had put around her head and wrapped it around her shoulders. It had been a dark and rainy day in Ketterdam and the damp air always messed with her long strawberry blonde hair. She hated it.

The room hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d seen it, and it had been a long time. Kaz was sitting at his usual place, behind his big wooden desk, but in front of him there was an empty chair and spread all over the desk there were maps of Ketterdam and several lists of odd names. -Oh, so you must be Brekker’s demo man. I’ve heard a lot about you, nice to meet you. I’m Iseut, from the Robber Claws.- she said, remembering how the Dregs used to brag about their new recruit some time ago. Wylan flushed and shook her hand with surprising strength.

-I know who you are. I’ve got a friend, Destry, she’s in the Claws too.-

-Oh of course you are friends.- responded Iseut with a laugh, thinking about how well the two of them actually fit together. A demo man and an inferni, both clumsy and both probably too good for the Barrel.

-I suppose you’re not here for mere small talk? What is it that you need, Iseut?- asked Kaz, and she realised she’d interrupted them while they were scheming something. Still, Kaz had a talent of sounding really rude when he spoke. -I don’t need anything, you do. Or have you already forgotten what you asked me to find for you?- she replied, straightening her back and throwing a pair of black gloves to him. Kaz catched them swiftly and examined them accurately. -Ri found them, there’s a new fjerdan smuggler who has the exact leather you search for. The smuggler’s not reliable, but I had the gloves checked and they’re original, from Fjerda.-

-Thank you, Iseut- said Kaz after a while. She thought back to the many arguments they’d had in which she accused him of not knowing how to say words as simple as “thank you” or “please”. You’re not my mother, Iseut, he’d replied. And, besides, saying thank you doesn’t bring you anything in the Barrel. He was right, she knew it, but she wouldn’t admit it in front of him or he would mock her forever for it.

-You’re welcome Kaz. I’ll let you two to your sketchy scheming. I have to be back at the pub, my guys are waiting for me.- She wrapped her scarf one more time around her hair and closed the door behind her, walked down the rickety stairs and stepped outside on Ketterdam’s cobblestones, slippery with rain.

*****

It turned out someone had managed to start a fight in the twenty minutes she’d been away.

Fastening her apron, she walked to the counter towards the spot where Linnea and Verre were sitting, comfortably chatting with each other both with a mug in their hand. Iseut could remember the exact day the two girls joined the Robber Claws, they were two of the very first ones to do so. At first Linnea was quite frightened and didn’t speak much, she just watched everything with her big clever eyes. Iseut had immediately understood that there was something about her past in Fjerda that still haunted her. As time passed, she got more and more comfortable with the Claws, but remained the introverted and quiet one. Verre, on the other hand, had always been stubborn and outspoken. There was an ever present grudge on her face and it had taken her a lot before she could really trust the gang, but once you gained her trust, she was a loyal and fierce friend. Iseut felt a strong affection for all of the members of the Robber Claws, they were the family she’d never had. But again, she couldn’t say such things aloud or Destry would’ve rolled her eyes and complained about how sentimental she always was.

-Who was involved in the fight?- she asked them, bending forward on the counter. Linnea put down her mug and looked at her.

-Hello Iseut, nice to see you too. Who do you think it was?- she said with a grin.

-It was Sofiya. Some man made a stupid comment about her blouse and she straight up punched him in the balls.- Verre fell into conversation with a proud smile on her lips. Iseut shook her head laughing and started to fill the empty glasses with liquor. Since a boss of the Barrel broke her heart a long time ago, Sofiya had ceased to have faith in most men and now lived out of pure spite and need for revenge. She had built up barriers over barriers to protect herself from the outside. I won’t make the same mistake twice, she’d said once to Iseut sitting on a bar stool late at night and wiping her tears for what would be the last time. Iseut thought of the countless times she’d started (and won) a fight because of some man’s filthy comments on her or someone else of the Robber Claws and felt a sudden wave of affection for that girl.

A rainy day in Ketterdam meant full house at The Queen’s Head, and that day wasn’t an exception. People came, ordered huge amounts of drinks and went, stopping for an occasional gamble. Iseut served drinks with her head in the clouds, thinking about anything but the glasses in her hands. She always did, otherwise she would get a bad headache at the end of the day. She loved her work and the human contact that came with it, but sometimes, when the pub was full, it was all too much.

She was just thinking that maybe the Robber Claws needed a demo man as well, since the last one revealed himself to be one of the Dime Lions’ spies, when she overheard something odd. There were two men sitting in a corner of the main room. Both wore hats and were therefore hard to recognise, but they seemed in some way familiar. When she poured them more liquor, they didn’t stop speaking, no one ever did...she was just a barmaid, why should they fear to be overheard? At first Iseut couldn’t stand to be overlooked in such a harsh way by those men who thought they were powerful and spoke to her as if she was nothing but an object, but over time she had learnt how to use it against them.

She went to the counter to grab a towel, just to be careful they didn’t suspect she was willingly overhearing, and came back to their table matter-of-factly. It was while she was wiping the dark liquid from their table that she heard it.

-Haven’t you heard it? Van Dijk is creating a whole spy network. They’re infiltrating everywhere.-

soo this is the first chapter in a collection of chapters called Tales From The Robber Claws I'm writing about the members of the robber claws, one of ketterdam's gangs.

Ri is @ninas-waffle 's character, Linnea is @alonlyfangirl 's, Verre is @sapphossidechick 's, Destry is @finnick-annie 's and Sofiya is @tiredassbibliophile 's, I hope you enjoy it🥰

#six of crows #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #ketterdam #grishaverse #grisha #leigh bardugo #shadow and bone #s & b #shadow and bone spilers #fanfic #grishaverse fic #kanej

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xerospaced · 4 years

Text

So i was curious as to whether a meltdown could be catatonic

As I feel, on an emotional level, that I am having a meltdown but rather than the crying/rocking/moaning/stimming/hyperventilating and what have you

I'm stuck

Like i managed to sit up to plug my phone in coz an hour or so ago coz it hit 1%

But otherwise I've been locked in this position for about 4 hours.

So anyway, I google catatonic meltdown to see if it's a thing

Lo and behold!

Not only is it a thing

But I've been having catatonic episodes for weeks IF NOT MONTHS

The lack of initiation, agitation, limited movement, limited speech, slowness (and I mean wow fucking slowness!! Im moving so slow I am losing literal HOURS without realising it)...

Ykno what

Lemme just post a screencap of the list of presentations

And... it is presentations in autism - I was searching meltdowns so makes sense

What I'm saying is that I have [and have had in various combinations over the past weeks/months] ALL OF THESE FUCKING SYMPTOMS

Even down to the grimacing ayfkm

And the only reason I even noticed the grimacing was coz i realised it was happening a few weeks ago but couldn't seem to stop it and I thought it was fucking odd.

Aggression and difficulty initiating actions CHECK AND FUCKING CHECK- it's getting our of hand.

Hesitations. Repetitive movements! My back is FUCKED coz i can't maintain a suitable seated position for longer than im stuxk thinking about it.

I legit feel like I'm losing my grip on reality. Like I'm not here.

Weirdly... scary to know this is it's own thing I'm experiencing. Daunting. But also - I've been dealing with this my whole life. No exaggeration. Sometimes I have months where I'm clear. But I would say I experience at least half of any one of these given symptoms at any given time.

That's....

Incredibly fucking upsetting if I'm honest.

I kept thinking that one day I would just figure it out.

I will be able to move when I want to. Eat when I should. Pull myself away from my interests when I wish. Not lost untold time getting stuck repeating the same motion with no end goal. Urinate when my bladder is full rather than the last second where my body is right about to override my fuggen brain! Work when I want to work!

But the aggression. These past days. I put it down to PMS - I'm sure it's played it's part. But last weeks. The consistent agitation. The inability to perform any necessary task. Falling behind on my work. The absolutely NOTHING mood. But agitation gnawing away consistently.

I feel like a powder keg.

I have no support.

I have no diagnosis [it's become impossible to believe that I'm wrong about my suspicions of ASD at this point].

I have no idea how to manage it.

And all the live long day it's "try this and try this and figure this out" and I just want to fucking scream because my brain is NOT WORKING!

What's the solution that fixes the line between I WANT to do something and me Actually doing it!?

I want to play sims but even something I actively enjoy I miss out on because I can not initiate action.

Yes, I find it easier to accomplish tasks when I am around people. BUT I AM ALONE 95% OF THE TIME. Soon to be something closer to 99.

SO.......!!??

And I feel guilty

I feel shitty

I'm underperforming!

I work quickly and to a high standard but I'm lagging because I can't start. Or I do start but I can't maintain course.

Im still stuck in the same twisted position as when I started typing this 20 mins ago and I'm sure it hurts but I cant even tell if it hurts anymore.

I can't remember what natural hunger feels like. I'm talking ravenous or nothing - mostly nothing.

And there's been so much going on lately.

And all I'm hearing is what I'm not doing.

What I need to improve.

Where I'm falling short.

Do more. Do More. DO MORE.

My moods are shifting too quick for me to log them. Not that it matters anyway coz I lack the ability to initiate that fucking task too.

There are so many things I want to do. And I know exactly how I want to be living. And I know (from the short few months in which I actually managed it) how good it feels to live the way I want.

But I can't make it happen.

I can't even decide if I should feed myself rn.

All this shit going on has not had me mentally stressed - at points, I'm not exactly big on stressing or worrying - but what has become undeniable is that it has fucked me on a functional basis.

I'm not steering the ship. And I don't know how to take control.

And I'm on a fucking 11 month waiting list for an autism assessment.

When I say life has been Hard.

The ADHD that was only diagnosed last year, the likely undiagnosed ASD, also diagnosed last year was the autoimmune connective tissue disease. Major depressive disorder. Multiple forms of anxiety. The misdiagnosed bpd. And then IF WE REALLY HAVE TO let's add on the self-harm, failed suicide attempt(s), ostracisation, emotional abuse, physical abuse, being literally left for dead, the plethora of hospitalizations as a child, childhood emotional neglect, abandonment, overlooked behavioural issues, teenage self-medicating, bullying, and fuggen MORE

I mean

Life

Fuxking

HARD.

With a brain and a body that won't connect (and is also trying to destroy me for shits and giggles).

And I'm still wanting to keep going.

At this point... purely out of spite.

Because fuck this hand I've been dealt. But Fuck Me if I'm not a sharp son of a bitch! Ima play the fuck out of em.

Almost 27 years I've dragged myself through misery and I'm still in it.

I refuse to tap out now. I got no choice but to make it worth something. To make it matter. To make my existence mean more than a stupid fucking mistake the universe has been trying to erase.

I gotta be in this for Something.

This can't be all life has to give me.

Surely.

#i wanna say... longest post ive made but i think not #catatonic #catatonic meltdown #catatonia #asd #autism #not dx #mental illness #adhd #mental health #chronic illness #uctd #.#big sad #big sigh #mine

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brooklynislandgirl · 3 years

Note

"I would marry you if I had the chance." He isn't joking, of course, but he's said it in a softly playful manner all the same. {I don't know, Beth, he was probably Inspired, I'm sorry.}

If I would, could you? ||-

Sheer gauzy curtains waft in the breeze coming in through the window, paired with moonlight bright enough to silver many of the furnishings of the room. There's no hint of rain that she can taste but the air is redolent with the flowers from the garden down below, and the heat of the day and the heavy humidity have given way to a now familiar coolness that doesn't make their proximity an onerous burden.

She doesn't stir from where she lays on her side, knees slightly drawn up, one arm bent beneath her pillow, the other at the inward slope of her waist entangled with his so that their fingers are braided together in loose enough a fashion that if he needed to get up it would be easier than extricating the leg of his caught between both of hers, or the one under her almost completely. It isn't often that Anakin chooses or simply becomes the 'big spoon' as it were and maybe she is enjoying being wrapped up in him. The only real pity to the situation is that she can't, without turning her head, see his face, limned in the soft light coming from the window and back lit by her lighthouse nightlight.

She doesn't turn because she also expects that maybe he's softly talking to her because he thinks she's asleep. Normally around this time in the early mornings if he's still in bed ~ a fairly recent development between them where propriety takes a backseat to comfort and their almost always more than mutual proclivity of finding closeness and solace through touch~ Anakin is tossing and turning, sometimes accompanied by soft, usually wordless murmurs that she can't quite find shape and function in but knows it's dreams that aren't any more pleasant for him than her own night terrors are for herself just loud enough to rest on the edges of her perceptions.

She almost wants to ask if he's actually slept yet or if he's kept a vigil over her for the past few hours when exhaustion finally managed to sink into her. Insomnia is another one of their commonalities. Neither one seems willing to risk closing their eyes until they have no choice in the matter. She doesn't even really remember getting up the stairs and into bed in the first place. At the same time, the idea of Anakin making sure she didn't curl up on the stairs, or falling asleep in the tub isn't an awful one. Neither would it be the end of the world if he'd helped her slip out of her scrubs ~a last minute after hours emergency~ and into the thin and a little baggy, little overlong tee-shirt that she knows for a fact didn't come from her closet. The material of it is worn to the point of being almost gossamer. Embedded with all the smells she associates in very good ways with him. The kind of thing she'd be inclined to steal borrow for herself if he weren't around to give her permission. Just so she could feel more closely connected.

But speaking would ruin the moment if he does think she's insensible to the world. It would ruin the moment to answer him, even if his tone might otherwise suggest that he knows what she's thinking. And that might very well be the case because Beth suspects that he has an affinity with Uhane'hana, the sphere of Mind. Not that she knows for certain, she herself is inept at it, never quite able to harness that art though her brother...s....were quite talented.

Speaking would also mean she'd inadvertently hurt his feelings. Not because she would say something cruel or spiteful to him. She can't imagine ever being so harsh, so angry with Anakin that she would want to savage him to verbal pieces and do more damage than she could ever do to his physical body, which to be honest would be easier on him and far more devastating that she can actually say. It wouldn't be the first time that someone he cared about harmed him, and unfortunately, she doesn't think it will be the last. But no, she'd rather not do any of that, not in any way. The hurt would stem from the fact that Beth isn't nearly as enchanted with herself as Anakin seems to be. As if he can't see the flaws and the disappointments that make up her central being. That he can't see the terrible failures that she cannot begin to make up for. That she isn't as perfect as she wishes she could be and that he really does deserve someone better, younger, less problematic in the long run. It would hurt because his heart is still pure enough not to see those things, to have a counter-argument for every single fault she could lay at his feet, and to be honest Beth knows she can never really measure up to his generosity of opinion. Just like she knows she really wants to be the person he sees when he looks at her, all quiet and troubled eyes, fidgeting fingers and so almost timid of voice.

That's always endeared her, that wonderfully creative and often time broken vocabulary at his, like poetry spoken out of the side-mouth of a sailor. The revelation of a voracious intellect that was never nurtured as it ought to have been, and the ghosts he carries in it from his past, still too painful to really brush with any sort of clarity. She would do anything, literally, to keep him safe, to nurture every aspect of his being that is within her capability. Even from herself, if need be. And in admitting that, she knows being dishonest, pretending to be sleeping and not having heard those few words... spoken in such a way that it could be brushed off as him knowing she was playing possum and was just trying to get a rise out of her...is not something he deserved.

Achingly slow and careful she lifts his hand ~the left one~ to her lips and brushes a fleeting kiss across his knuckles. Allows every ounce of her to be felt in that rather subdued fashion in place of the words she is having trouble finding. She decides that the only way forward is to try and mimic the same blithe tone he manages seemingly without any difficulty, though her own voice is far more languid than his. "But where we get us a' Elvis impersonator, at almos' four in da mornin' ke kōnane? Besides, I t'ink Bug's tuxedo still at da dry cleaner." The cat in question's ear twitches at the sound of his name but curled up in an almost complete circle at the end of the bed ~which even if Anakin were to stretch out to his fullest would still leave a good foot or more of unclaimed mattress~ in his very own pile of luxuriously soft blankets, he doesn't seem to really care what Beth and Anakin are discussing. It takes a little bit of doing, of shifting here and there that is an excuse for Beth to not have to be serious for the handful or two of seconds before she's turning. Before she takes even more time to once again have parts of him wedged between her knees, to wrap an arm around his waist, and to lift her face so that the bridge of her nose nuzzles along his jawline, her breath a warm sensation across his throat.

"Is...dat some kine...ya migh' be interest in, some day? I mean...not t' me specifically, but in general?" Beth had officiated dozens of marriages. To stuffed animals and dolls. To other kids in the same play groups. To shells and flowers and even trees. She would tell anyone and everyone who listened that some day she would grow up and marry her brother, before she was corrected in her grammar. Before she understood her mother and the Admiral's relationship. Before she realised that maybe that wasn't exactly something she could really have, not like the endings of fairy tales, not in movies and t.v. shows. Before the Admiral explained that she was defective in every way that really mattered. And now she has to wonder why Anakin would even want that. Want her, like that. Maybe he is only making a joke, maybe he really is just trying to get a rise out of her. Maybe is a hell of a word. She squeezes her eyes shut against the stinging prickle at their backs. Keeps her breath even and steady despite the fact that some latent kind of panic is beginning to set in, telling her she ought to have pretended to be asleep after all. She bites back the urge to ask what a chance would look like for him. She bites back on asking why he would say such a thing in the first place. Those little pieces of indigestible fear seem to pile up in her throat, forcing her to clear it and the sound is painfully loud.

"I mean... is only natural, an ya know how much us Verbena really like dat, right? Every kine...well, I should say mos' kine...wanna seek out a mate. Usually f' procreation but I no can help but t'ink it's f' company an' stuff, mutual survival an' all." Oh. God. Shut up. Just. Stop. Talking. Elizabeth. "Big ceremony or lil kine? I bet ya got a t'eme an' a venue an' everyt'ing pick out. Mebbe reception, too. I use t' wanna get marry on a beach back home. Sunset. Small-small. An' really surprisin'? Not a lot of blood. Maybe none, even."

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ianthedisastrous · 3 years

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13, 17, 19, 20

What Muse(s) have you not seen the movie/show for?

Answered this one!

What locations do you normally use?

Ian hangs around Hatter's and [Name Redacted] all the time because coffee, and Pip and Riku. And of course Ruff to Fluff because work and campus for school. I feel like his mom's house is a location I reference often, and Tony's apartment; since he just mostly stays those places rather than at the dorms. And Edward just...wanders around everywhere, all the time. But the dorms and Chapter Three are going to be locations he'll be around much more in upcoming threads.

Already answered the next two but you can never have enough love so here we go!

Write some love for three Muns of your choice!

Silv! I have to say you're fierce, in the best ways. And so kind in the best ways too. I really feel like when I'm feeling all the rough edges and want to just vent whatever nonsense is under my skin I always can run to you and you have righteous rage for my problems that I very much appreciate, and humor to help me come down from those scattered moments. I've also seen the best of you in how much you really care, hearing your earnest want to help people and make them feel better when life is unfair; you're just such a good person.

Sav! In the short time we've really started talking I have to say I am amazed by you Sav. Not only are you just brilliantly together and always seem to have a supportive word to offer you also know the value of humor. Your intellect never fails to astound me and plotting with you is such an experience; I love all your characters for their complications and complexities and really admire that. I just really enjoy our discussions, plotting or otherwise, and have to thank you for always making me feel welcome with how approachable you are.

Sam! Wow, you're awesome Sam, so much. Plotting with you is so much fun and you're so creative; I love your ideas and unique connection plots! I have so much fun just hanging out and chatting on Discord with you and I'm so glad you decided to join! You come up with things I would have never thought of and you make me laugh so much, I hope we get to be even better friends moving forward because you're great!

Write some love for three Muses of your choice!

Oops. Look it's hard to just do 3 when I love so many muses.

Tony! We all knew I'd do this one, right? Tony is amazing; flawed and uncertain in ways he hides, strong in ways he doesn't realize. I can't sing Tony's praises without, of course, referencing Tian; there's so much there and so much to come. It's too easy to see sometimes how Ian jumps to Tony's aid but one of my favorite things about their dynamic is what's understated in how much Ian depends on his wildly unpredictable best friend just as much, needs him just as much. There is a very resounding balance between them that most people don't see as much, yet; they depend on each other so much to carry the shared weight. And Tony tries so hard, he extends the sort of acceptance, in spite of his horrible experience with Magicks, Ian has always wished he knew, and does it as easily as breathing. Do they both have their fun irritating each other? Oh yes. Tony is just so much fun, and Ian is learning to enjoy just being without too much thinking sometimes. But Tony's complexities are my favorite part to him; he's the eternal lost soul feeling like he can only watch life so his efforts to feel connected, flawed as they sometimes are, hit so many feelings for me. The layers to this wayward man are outstanding, the pain and experience, it's just all so good.

Lachlann! Oh LP, you charming disaster of a man. He might just be the closest thing Ian currently has to a big brother, and that might just be a problem. Ha. But really; Lachlann is the kind of person that gives his best. He might be a bit bumbling but his heart is just pure gold and he may not be the quickest wit sometimes but the man understands people emotionally on a genius level. He is easily the one adult that Ian fell into nearly instant trust of because for all his jokes and weirdness he's so grounding, so much the sort of kindness that Ian wishes people could just offer each other. I don't think I've ever read a Lachlann thread that didn't make me smile; he is just a level of good we should all strive to reach. You're a superhero Lachlann.

Eilonwy! There's a lot of power to Eilonwy, and it's all in her heart. The way she lunges into life without hesitation is breathtaking to watch and I love it. She stresses Ian out so much, haha. And he's a better, more rounded person for it. Because the two of them are just something special; Eilonwy is family for Ian, a safe spot and someone who pushes him past what he thinks he can do. She's a catalyst to so many things around her and even when she's too much she's still just so bright and shining; pure sunshine. I know Ian would be lost without her and Edward is in awe, they're just starting to build a bond but she's already someone he respects. I couldn't imagine the rp without the energy she brings in her wake.

Ashlee! Ian adores Ashlee. She's basically a sister to him at this point. I never expected the bond to form as intensely as it did but she's easily someone he's protective over. I find the parallels between the two of them so good, the way they lean on each other at different times when one or the other need it the most. They both share a history not of shared experiences but shared awareness of pain and being haunted, and watching them support each other is wonderful. Ashlee as a whole is such a dynamic character, her struggles always dig right into my heart and her story is powerful. Just being a part of it along the way is something I'm thrilled about.

#memes

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thefogoflife · 4 years

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https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/10/left-and-right-are-radicalizing-each-other/616914/

Phenomenally level headed article from a typically slanted institution.

If you believe your way is the only way, or that any other way is the enemy, you have successfully been radicalized...people like Trump have WON. You may be resisting them, but that fervent resistance only further solidifies their base, and radicalizes otherwise normal people that have been affected by your actions.

Conflict and strife is what is needed to justify more outlandish violations of liberty, and further mutation of the status quo.

What I like about this article is that it doesnt lump Trump in with actual conservatives...because he's not.

(He has no real political opinions, his actions are solely based on maintaining his power and spiting his opposition. That's why there's so many inconsistencies.)

But I digress.

This author points out a coalition of educated conservatives that oppose everything from his policies to his demeanor...this gives me hope. If a left leaning publication like The Atlantic can see that Trump is a blight on the right wing, a virus that has radicalized the whole wing, then maybe the avenue to healing is more open than previously thought.

Now by no means is this a praise of the right, as I detest their conduct as well, but for different reasons. Crippling hypocrisy and incompetence is a much different gripe than my gripes of the Trump administrational tumor, which leads to my next point.

His base, these people, whether they're mild mannered or maga hat wearing fools, are not all evil, cross burning racists...they've been manipulated, and radicalized.

They were the original political opposition during the obama era, that was angry and upset and displaced. Trump was the enabler to this rage. There was toxicity, even if well founded in part, but he honed in on it and warped it into this atrocious, destructive climate we're in today.

"Trump Derangement Syndrome", as it's been called, is narcissistic abuse on a national scale. The gaslighting, the bait and switches, the hate mongering, the blatant lies, it's narcissistic abuse from someone in a position of power and authority. These maga hat wearers are ensnared, they haven't realized they've been had yet.

My point here is that Trump will be gone eventually, whether it's 2021 or 2025, but this entire half of the country that fell for him, fell for the abuse, will remain.

Half of the COUNTRY.

Why this is important is that some day very soon, Trump will be gone from politics, and this derangement will lose steam. A lot of people will wake up, feel shame, regret...there will be a real, solid opportunity for bridging the gap. I think this is key because issues like systemic racism, bureaucratic corruption, and widespread violence and misinformation can't be stopped without a united front. It's too great a task with too many moving parts to be implemented by force. It takes understanding, reeducation, willful involvement by all involved to make it stick, otherwise it just becomes inverted, and while I'm sure some would be okay with that, that's not just.

The question I guess I'm posing is, what is the endgame for this phase? Is half of the population of this country forever going to be freezed out and cut off completely?

If so, how does that solve anything? Does that not just invert this situation now until they get mad enough to switch it back again? How long will that volatility continue and be acceptable?

There is no pure left wing future ahead, and there's no pure right wing future either. It would take mass murder and brainwashing to even come remotely close to either, and I know that's off the table.

There's radicalism on both sides, and both are very severe in their own right. There's no flashy term like TDS for the left wing's, but it's absolutely there...I think the article sums it up well. I think the reason for that is because there's really no figurehead. The left's radicalism is decentralized, while the right has Trump. The right is rotting from the top down with a narcissistic abuser figurehead, while the left is rotting from the bottom up via mob rule.

This is in no way an apology for behaviors, or a promotion of either side of the aisle. This is an independent, personal analysis of the political climate as I see it. I have no political agenda to promote, just a desire for unity, and for cause and effect.

I truly think this election outcome is going to be surprising, and that Trump will be ousted. He doesn't have the fervor behind him, or the constant unexplainable wins that he had in 2016. I guess this post is to ask what's next. Because it's going to take a lot of goodwill to heal. I don't know who reading this has dealt with true narcissistic abuse, but if you have I hope you remember what it was like breaking free.

There is a real chance to heal, to cleanse this blight, this mistake, from our political landscape.

If you got this far, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed my take, or at least the refreshing neutrality of the article.

#american politics #left wing #left & right #right wing #centrism #discourse #heal the divide #end fringe politics #common ground #except communists of course #morning musings #rants n rambles

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imagine-that-haikyuu · 7 years

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I'm in the mood for some royalty!au these days ^^ how about bodyguard/knight/butler!iwachan with princess!reader? a bit of angst and fluff would be awesome! i already know I'm gonna love it because I always love your writing, so could you maybe also do this scenario with reversed roles in the future?

i finished this like 11 days ago but i had to save it so i could ensure there was a post going up for iwa-chan’s birthday today :^) so remember when i said i had five ideas for the first half of this request? this…. wasn’t any of those ideas lmao. i came up with this one and another idea which i think i’m going to use for the prince!iwaizumi scenario. i think this one is going to be a multi-part. there won’t be a need to request the next parts because i’ll consider them as part of the original request

if you like what i do and want to show your support, consider supporting me on ko-fi!

- admin rachel lauren

“I’m not telling you as the king nor as _____’s older brother with some weird sister complex. I’m telling you as your best friend, and I’m telling this to you for your sake: you need to stop what’s going on between you and my sister.”

Oikawa lowered his shoulders. It wasn’t an easy feat to look at the man sitting before him and not take pity. Iwaizumi hands were gripping the arms of his chair, tightly, his head lowered enough so his eyes couldn’t meet Oikawa’s. “I know what I’m asking you to do is easier said than done, but _____ has known for a long time she can’t choose you as her suitor no matter how much she wants to. There’s laws even I can’t overturn, Iwa-chan.”

If the air in the room hadn’t been so thick with tension, Iwaizumi would have scoffed at the way Oikawa childishly muttered that last part. He remembered distinctly how much Oikawa enjoyed dressing up in commoner’s clothing, heading into a nearby town, and trying to woo some of the local girls when they were reached their teen years. Iwaizumi was always charged to go along with him, so he was an unfortunate witness to the eventual-king’s antics. Instead, he lowered his head a little more as his sole response.

It was late in the evening, but Iwaizumi was used to standing watch at all hours of the night at this point. Years of training for knighthood prepared him for that.

It hadn’t quite prepared him for a situation like this one.

Oikawa had tried: Iwaizumi knew that much. His friend was silly, but even so, the king firmly believed that merit was inherently worth more than birth or class. The young king doted on you—his only sibling—and would do anything to ensure your happiness. And even though he rarely tolerated Oikawa’s teasing, the knight was still his best friend, his confidante, and the source of the princess’s joy. But there were some laws that a king’s order couldn’t change without a vote. Making sure the princess could marry a knight was not reason enough for a group of council members who were very much fond of their classist system.

“I…I understand, Your Majesty,” Iwaizumi murmured. Oikawa would normally boast in the most obnoxious fashion whenever Iwaizumi referred to him so formally. He only used your titles in public, opting for your names (or insults, in the king’s case) while in private.

Now, the king couldn’t find it in himself to poke fun at Iwaizumi, not when he seemed so defeated and certainly not when he knew that you would have to have your heart broken soon.

“That’s all,” Oikawa said after a long silence. His gaze was cast to the corner of his desk, unable to look his friend in the eye. “You’re dismissed.”

With a deep breath, Iwaizumi rose from his seat and made his way towards the study’s door. As he gripped the door handle, Oikawa called out his name. Iwaizumi turned just enough to look in his direction.

“If _____ wasn’t bound by some archaic laws about only marrying another noble or royal, I would give you my blessing without hesitation. There’s no one aside from you who’s better-suited to be her husband.”

Without another word, Iwaizumi turned back again and exited the study. Words like that couldn’t console him, despite the deep sincerity in his friend’s voice. But at that point, Iwaizumi didn’t need to hear it. Once he shut the door behind him, he let out a single, bitter laugh. He hated lying, and it was treason to lie in the face of the king.

You had already made your beloved knight your husband that very evening.

He assumed his being summoned at such a late hour meant that Oikawa had found out—that the unknowing civil servant or the band of wanderers you ran into that had become your witnesses (and helped you celebrate briefly after) snitched. As perceptive as the king was, he failed to realize that his plea had come too late.

It hadn’t been composed on a whim: while it was a supposed to be a small ceremony from the beginning, you painstakingly planned it for months. As princess, you were already privy to important knowledge meant only for the monarch’s eyes. You had to be prepared to take the throne at a moment’s notice in case of emergency. Perhaps you were abusing that knowledge to make it easier to be wed in secrecy. However, knowing where kingdom spies wouldn’t be on a certain night was more innocent when knowing that information would be used to carry out a wedding as opposed to other things.

If anyone knew how severe the consequences would be if you two were to be found out aside from Iwaizumi, it was you. But you were confident and set firm in your ways, and loved him too much to be convinced otherwise. You’d rather die a childless, old maid than marry anyone else, although anyone would believe that half the reason for that was pure spite. If neither your brother nor you produced an heir, then there would be scramble to find someone to fill in the line of succession. The fact that you were willing to sabotage the future kingdom like that was selfish, reckless. However, Iwaizumi couldn’t find it in himself to urge you to act more responsibly. He understood your frustration all too well.

But he also understood how much he was risking if this all went awry: his knighthood, his life if a jury saw this as enough treason to warrant it, Oikawa’s trust in him, and more importantly, you. You constantly had to assure him that you’d find a way to protect the both of you, that you could find a loophole somewhere in the laws that would prevent either of you from facing punishment: you had only just skimmed the surface of the palace library in search of that information.

They say people do crazy things when they’re in love and Iwaizumi now understood that they were absolutely correct.

He hadn’t realized how lost in thought he was until he was already in front of the door to your chambers. He knocked three times as per usual, waited three seconds, and gave two more knocks: a little code you made up years ago so you knew it was him at the door.

From behind the heavy wood, he heard your stifled giggle and your feet pad towards the door.

“Yes? What is it?” you called out.

“I’d like a word with you, Your Majesty. I have something important to say,” Iwaizumi replied, taking on the formal tone he had perfected over the years. It was only for show: a precaution for anyone who might walk by while this went on if they didn’t happen to catch the faint smirk on his face. Once inside, he’d be able to drop the act and speak to you as he normally did.

If you even gave him a chance to speak, that is. The door opened with a creak and you ushered him in. As soon as the door was shut and locked, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him fervently. It was second nature the way his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you even closer to him. You already shed your dress from the ceremony, the silk slip you currently donned felt cool against his fingers. Your hands were already working at the buttons of his uniform.

“You’re too impatient, ____,” he murmured after parting from your kiss. His lips still hovered before yours. “I still have something important to say.”

“Hajime, can it wait? We have one thing left to do before it’s official,” you said. Another few buttons on his top came undone thanks to your quick work. You stood up just enough of your toes for your lips to reach his ear. “It’s the fun part, after all.”

The words in combination with how you said it sent a shiver down his spine. He captured you in a kiss this time, lips still locked while spurred on to scramble the short distance to your bed. Iwaizumi thought this could only happen in a dream. Now this had become his reality: hovering above you–the woman he loved, now his wife, and having her stare at him so needy. He wanted to soak this in and never forget it.

“Did you get lost in my eyes again?” you giggled, snapping him out of his stupor. How long had he been lingering over you like that? “It’s just like when we had our first kiss. Do you remember that? I kept asking you questions and you kept spacing out.”

He clicked his tongue and unbuttoned the last of his top, carelessly tossing to the side. “And then you ordered me to kiss you.” He kissed you again, perhaps to be a bit ironic. His lips trailed from yours down to your jaw and to your neck.

“Not quite true. I ordered you to act on your very obvious desire to kiss me if you wanted to.”

“Semantics.”

“You knew I was teasing.”

“Well, at least something good came out of all that.”

“Hajime. One last order.”

“Mmm?”

“Take your shoes off.”

He pulled away from your neck at your words. It didn’t take much contorting for him to see that his boots were still on. Not that he doubted it, but rather, he had been distracted.

“They would have come off eventually,” he grumbled. “You didn’t give me much a chance back there, _____.”

Iwaizumi’s face was now flushed a little more for a very different reason. Your laughter wasn’t helping much. Though, it did abate the question lingering in the back of his mind: should he have brought up the conversation with your brother sooner? It was too late now. He would never forgive himself for already interrupting the evening you had planned by leaving your side for that short while in the first place. He didn’t want to see that pretty, wanton look you were giving him to go away with the mention of anything else either.

For all intents and purposes, this was a honeymoon period. It would have to wait.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru #royalty!au #nsfw-ish #request #admin rachel lauren #happy bday iwa-chan ilysm #anonymous

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