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whumperooni · 3 years

Note

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato. You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him. That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly. “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

#natsuo todoroki x reader #rooni's shit #tw breeding kink #Anonymous

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nessian fanfic #nessian au

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saintobio · 3 years

Text

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remember, forever. (7)

↳ kageyama tobio x f!reader

description: in which the boy you’ve loved for years unexpectedly becomes your baby daddy. the catch? he’s in love with someone else.

genre: angst, cheating, unrequited love

a/n: surprise, it’s a fast update! what will be the advice you’ll give to y/n if you’re in her position? let me know what u guys think (:

You just wanted Kageyama to stop giving you mixed signals. It was confusing and all the more frustrating. One minute he’d act all sweet and caring, the next he was running after his ‘ex’ girlfriend.

Yeah, you had no right. Yeah, both of you were just in this for the baby. Yeah, you were the only one who had feelings.

But did you really deserve the way he was making you feel?

Even though you were just the mother of his child, you deserved better than this. You did nothing wrong. You just simply loved the wrong person.

It was already late at night to even bother with these depressive thoughts. You wondered if it was the pregnancy hormones making you feel this way.

To distract your mind, you took the sonogram and stared at your little bean with a smile. It was a good decision to keep the baby, but it was a bad decision to keep the father. Even if you loved him, the pain in your heart wasn’t worth it.

“My angel,” you whispered, touching your bump.

The doctor said it would take around your 5th month before you could tell the gender of the baby and you were already on your 2nd. You were excited to know what your baby was going to be.

You felt your stomach growl and it made you chuckle thinking about your baby telling you that you were hungry.

“Okay,” you spoke to your unborn baby. “Mommy’s gonna make food.”

Truly, since you became pregnant, you didn’t feel alone at your apartment anymore.

You went to your fridge to make your usual blueberry and yogurt combo. You always had plenty of stock because it had been your craving for the past month, but you realized you had run out of yogurt and it was already late at night to even go out.

But you were going to lose it if you didn’t get to satisfy your cravings tonight.

You decided to check your phone and text the only person you could count on.

You: Oikawa, you look extra handsome today. I was wondering if you can go out and buy a tub of yogurt for me ;)

It wasn’t even a minute in until the said guy replied to your text. Just how much did he check on his phone all day?

Tooru: No

You: but i’m pregnant >:( you should be nicer to me!!

Tooru: :P

You: pleaseeeeee?

Tooru: Fine, hold on

There were days where you felt truly grateful to have Oikawa nearby. He was such a good person to count on whenever you felt down and he expected the same from you. You were also the first person he talked to when he was having trouble with his girlfriends or volleyball or other stuff in general.

You weren’t really close to him back at Kitagawa Daiichi but you knew that he’d always been popular to girls your age. Maybe you were just too focused on Kageyama that you paid no attention to other guys aside from him.

You only got close to Oikawa during high school when Iwaizumi started dating Jina and the four of you would ‘hang out’ together.

You sat back at the couch, turning the TV on as you waited for your delivery man to arrive. It only started to bother you when it had been half an hour and he still wasn’t back.

You were about to type in another message when you heard the doorbell ring.

Jeez, about time.

You walked to your front door and swung it open. “What took you so long—”

“Sorry.” Kageyama stood in front of you, dressed in his training gear while catching his breath. He held a bag full of yogurt tubs and pouches. “There was a long line down at the store and I bought a lot just in case.”

Your first reaction was to freeze on the spot. Because... How?

How did he know?

Even more, why was your heart beating dangerously fast?

“Uh, how did you...?” you asked.

“Oikawa-san, he messaged me about it.”

Fuck. Of course he would!

You were already thinking of ways on how you were gonna beat him up the next time you see him. You could almost hear Oikawa saying ‘I did you a favor~’

“Can I come in?” Kageyama asked and cut you off your trance.

Right. You made way for him as he stepped inside your apartment, placing the bag on your dining table.

“Neat,” he commented, looking around your apartment.

“It’s not as big as yours, but this is just the right size for me,” you said, taking the tub of yogurt out of the bag. “Thanks, by the way.”

He nodded once before taking a seat at one of the stools. It looked like he just got out of volleyball practice before rushing straight to your place to get what you needed. It somehow felt weird and out-of-character.

“Did you eat dinner yet?” you asked out of courtesy. “I can make a quick one for you.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

You decided to cook Tamagoyaki and you realized it was the first time you’ve cooked for Kageyama. Suddenly, this situation made you feel like you were husband and wife for real.

You tried not to get carried away with the thought as you quietly prepared his dinner. He maybe nice now, but you know he’d just remind you how he loved another woman and you were just nothing.

It was awkward because you could see from the corner of your eye that he was looking at you.

“The baby’s into yogurt too, huh?” he asked.

You casually smiled. “Yeah, just like you.”

“I’m more of a milk guy,” he corrected, smiling in return.

“Same thing.” You suddenly remembered a distant memory. “Do you remember back in Junior High when we met at the vending machine?”

He searched from his memory. “The one that broke down?”

You nodded. “Yeah, and you got me another carton during lunch period.”

“Because I thought you were gonna cry about it,” he said in his defense.

“Hey, no I wasn’t!” You pouted, putting the omelette into the plate. Somehow, it was nice to have this simple talk with Kageyama.

No feelings involved, just casual conversations.

———————————————————————

After he ate dinner and after you satisfied yourself with your intense yogurt craving, you thought maybe Kageyama would be going home.

But actually, he stayed with you on the couch for awhile, making sure you were okay before he left.

You were careful not to fall for the same trap again because you knew Lara was still very much the one for him.

You knew he was just doing this out of obligation. Nothing more.

“Do you still have practice tomorrow?” you asked, sitting more comfortably.

He had his head leaned back on the headrest with his eyes closed. “No. Rest day.”

“I have a day off work, too,” you said, as if he cared.

He opened his eyes to look at you. “Don’t you think you should quit work?”

You understood his intention but you loved working and it was the only thing that made you happy.

“I’ll file a pregnancy leave near my due but I’m not quitting overall, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’ll cover everything,” he offered. “Bills and whatever. Everything you or the baby needs.”

You shook your head. “Tobio...”

His eyes flickered at the mention of his first name. He rarely heard you call him by his first name and you wondered if he preferred it.

“You just need to stay at home and take some rest. And also,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath. “My father’s kinda right. You should live with me.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. Did Kageyama knock his head on a wall or something?

This was strange.

“You mean move in with you?” You laughed nervously. “You know we don’t have to take this marriage thing very seriously, right? Not when we’re in a situation like this.”

He sighed, positioning his head back to where it was while he stared at your ceiling. “I know, but... I’ve thought about this over and over. I promised you that I’ll figure this out with you.”

Why did he have to be so difficult to understand? It was starting to get upsetting.

“You literally told me you love Lara two days ago,” you responded, bitterly. “Stop giving me mixed signals! Stop confusing me. I get that she’s not easy to forget but—”

“It’s gonna take awhile!” he answered back. “I know I suck right now, but I’m always just honest. She’s the person I love, but her and I have already talked about the situation and agreed that it’s best to go our separate ways. Give me time to adjust.”

You fell silent. Maybe that day Lara called him, they met after to talk about it in person. To have a proper closure. You felt silly getting hurt when he did tell you he loved her, because what did you expect? For him to suddenly love you overnight?

“I still love her and I won’t deny it to you,” he pointed out. “But I’m gonna have a family with you now, so I’m trying to own up to it. I just need your patience.”

You hugged your knees to your chest. “Why?”

He didn’t speak.

“Why, Tobio?” you repeated. “Why did you make me keep the baby? Why are you forcing yourself into this relationship with me?”

This wasn’t how you wanted to gain Kageyama. You wanted him to be in a relationship with you because he was in love with you. You wanted to be the person he loved, the person he’d brag about, the person he’d smile at.

“Sonogram,” he said.

Huh?

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He blinked, still staring at the ceiling.

“When I looked at it, it hit me,” he spoke honestly. “That we made a life together. I don’t wanna be the kind of father that my father was to me. That’s why...we should consider this a blessing, not a mistake.”

You let yourself drown in thoughts of him and the day of your abortion. You remembered the look on his face when he saw the ultrasound scan for the first time, but didn’t expect that it would change his outlook towards the situation.

There was nothing else to say. You just understood his side. He obviously still didn’t have any feelings for you, but if he was trying to be a father to your child, then you shouldn’t take away his right. After all, you wanted your baby to have a father that loved them. As long as he was willing to be a father to your child, you’d be fine. You’d be okay.

A few minutes have passed as the both of you sat there in silence. You still didn’t know what the plan was after this, but you weren’t just ready to talk about it right now.

A sigh escaped your lips as you gathered your thoughts. “It’s getting late, you should—”

Kageyama was already fast asleep on your couch. He must’ve been so exhausted for him to sleep in an uncomfortable position like this and you felt bad.

You traced the hair out of his eyes and touched his cheek. You could never understand why you loved this guy so much to put up with the endless pain.

Without waking him up, you placed a warm blanket around him and whispered goodnight.

———————————————————————

When did he start loving Lara?

Kageyama couldn’t exactly remember when. It just happened. He just suddenly realized that he loved her one day and decided to make her his girlfriend.

What he did remember was the day they first met. Kageyama did photoshoots for the cover of a famous sports magazine and he got paired with a Japanese-Russian model. His first impression of Lara was that she was beautiful, but not enough to make him fall head-over-heels at first sight.

Everyone started saying how they looked good together and would make a good-looking couple in real life.

He was a man after all. Of course, he’d try to get to know her.

But the moment he genuinely felt something was when she started watching all of his games. It felt nice to have someone look forward to seeing him play. To cheer for him during his wins and comfort him during his losses. It felt nice to have someone that reminded him of you, the girl from Junior High who had always been his number one fangirl.

And, just like that, Lara became someone special.

She’d always be special to him, but he couldn’t really love her the same way anymore. Not when he was going to have a family with the girl she’d reminded him of. It was unfair.

Lara deserved a better guy. She didn’t deserve a guy who would cheat on her like he did. She was meant for another guy that would never look at anyone else. Maybe Kageyama had to accept his version of reality.

———————————————————————

“Don’t tell me you’re letting your guard down again,” Jina reminded.

It was your usual ‘hang out’ day with the three of them. Tonight, you guys chose to watch a movie because Oikawa had been pestering you about it all week.

“I’m not,” you stated firmly.

Iwaizumi came back with your movie tickets while you two lined up for popcorn. You looked around.

“Where’s Tooru?” you asked.

Iwaizumi pointed to his far right. “He’s hitting on someone. What a sleaze.”

You saw Oikawa trying to have a conversation with some girls from a reasonable distance and it made you chuckle. It was concerning how normal it was to see this.

“You should’ve invited Kageyama and not this guy,” he added in a playful remark about his best friend.

“We’re not together,” you claimed.

Jina looked at you weirdly. “Uhh, you kinda are now. You said he broke up with the girl and he’s trying to just be with you.”

“But that’s...” Well, you weren’t sure if you consider yourselves ‘together’.

“Fine. He’s just your baby daddy,” Jina added. “Let’s put it that way if you’re more comfortable.”

Iwaizumi held his girlfriend’s hand. “You moving in with Kageyama now?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

By the time you guys got inside the movie theater, it was already packed with people and Oikawa couldn’t help but complain.

“Why are there so many people!” Oikawa whined as the four of you went to your seats.

“Shut up,” you muttered, sitting between him and Jina.

He nudged you. “You’re still mad about the other night?”

You weren’t really mad, but it was nice to tease the guy. “Maybe.”

“Come on.” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “I had to make him do his own duties. He’s responsible for you. You should be thanking me instead.”

You pouted. “Does that mean you’re tired of me?”

“No. If Tobio-chan isn’t around, I’d still be there.”

You ended up chuckling. “I know. I was kidding. Pretty sure you’d be busy with your girlfriends by then.”

“I will not!”

Halfway through the movie, the scenes were getting so intense and you were suppressing a laugh when you saw how Oikawa was so into it.

Your phone buzzed from inside your bag and you checked to see the message.

Tobio: Hey, I finished practice. Can I pick you up?

Your heart skipped a beat.

You: sounds good! the movie will end in about 20 mins :)

You didn’t realize that you had a smile on your face when both Oikawa and Jina looked at you teasingly.

You hid your phone.

“What?” you asked innocently.

Jina leaned her head on your shoulder. “I’m happy for you. Just make sure you’ll take care of your heart.”

Her advice may be simple, but it held the purest intentions. She was right. Every time you felt happy, you knew you were still going to get hurt.

Because that was an unspoken rule that came with loving Kageyama. You had to be strong enough to endure the pain.

For now, you were contented with this.

#tobio kageyama #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama angst #kageyama fic #kageyama #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fic #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (11/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi could only be grateful that Petra had taken charge.

He was in no mood to do much but sit down, maybe get the gears of his brain moving when questions on coding or troubleshooting were directed to him. When the questions were on expected behavior of application, on known bugs, the motions in his mind were automatic, the responses that followed were second nature.

In that particular role, he was certain he’d be functional at the least.

There were questions about the overall testing process though that required more consideration, more planning and maybe some drawing. They weren’t formulaic. They required an overall different approach, a different part of the brain and Levi was only further convinced of that as he watched Petra draw over the floor plan with pencil.

He didn’t make sense of it at first and maybe all he needed was just a little push in the right logical direction.

Petra’s explanations were a godsend. “With the size of the gym, we can manage thirty tests at once…” She drew circles over the gym, evenly spaced. “We do it all at once, then we have them exit through here. ” She continued to trace the path from the front of the gymnasium to the back. “Then they answer the questionnaire over here, then one of the facilitators will submit it to the moderator’s table.”

The line that weaved efficiently through markers was a sign enough that she had put much thought into the overall planning process.

The moderator's tables was strategically positioned on one corner of the gym, angled in such a way to be inconspicuous.

Levi looked back for a second, noting, it's almost invisible presence next to the stage and the stored sports equipment.

And all I have to do is sit here, listen and answer questions right? Levi wished he could have asked it out loud. What kind of head engineer would he seem like if he did though? He went for the less desirable option of just keeping quiet, instead letting whatever questions in his brain out as one raised eyebrow.

“We want to make the most of our resources here so Eld, Oluo, Gunther, can facilitate. Make sure that none of the Love Alarms are on silent, that all the questionnaires are answered then mark on the box if it did ring. And Levi…” Petra turned to Levi. “I recommend you stay in the moderator’s table, encode the data, and stand by for any issues that may come up.”

Levi nodded. “That sounds like a plan.” He forced those last words out of his mouth while brushing off the almost guilt inducing relief at the confirmation of his own job and soon after that, the painful awareness of his own strange disconnect from the overall testing process

Petra though, had proven more qualified to take over. She had taken it upon herself since even the planning stages, coordinating with the logistics team, coordinating with the marketing team. Thus, she was in a better position anyway to brief people.

More importantly, she was admirably calm and professional about the whole process of presenting a plan in front of one of the biggest investors of the company. A very glaring reminder why she had been assigned to front office work since the start.

It wasn’t at all difficult to admit that Petra deserved to manage it.

So he let her take free rein. Levi leaned back on the wall, arms crossed as he watched the hand drawn lines darken under Petra’s delicate motions. He was tempted to doze off and a few times he did, especially when Petra took some time out to mention the specific responsibilities of facilitators.

When she mentioned the data encoding process, Levi forced himself to listen. Moments after that, when Petra shifted to other topics, he found himself darting his eyes across the small crowd, letting his eyes land on Zeke. The view of Zeke standing on one side of the table, looking deep in thought sent a rush of urgency through him, a very natural reaction to money, corporate obligation.

And something else.

Something unfamiliar and unwelcome. Sadness? Before Levi could even pin down the emotion, he was already following Zeke’s gaze.

Those blue eyes were tracing the plans on the table. Levi observed for a while, making quick guesses of what Zeke had been watching on the table, maybe to get a glimmer of what the man could have been thinking. Just behind the table though, on their side, there was something that had caught his attention more quickly than some overly detailed plans and some notes he had seen too many times already.

There were two hands clasped together and before he even noticed it himself , Levi was staring, tracing the thumbs with his eyes. Soon, he concluded, the grip of one of those hands was all too familiar.

Levi looked up, only to confirm what he already knew.

Hange could have known he was watching but Levi liked to guess that she didn’t. After all, she didn’t meet his gaze, instead, her head shot up, her eyes shifted towards Zeke.

It felt like an unspoken rejection.

A very out-of-place feeling of rejection.

Why would she look at me? Levi looked back down at the plan, letting the mood whiplash that followed rush through him. In those few moments, nothing much had changed. The markers were just a little clearer, the black ink a stark contrast to the white paper but he only found as he continued to follow it, that he couldn't make much sense of it anymore.

“Are you okay with this plan?” Petra asked.

Levi wasn’t looking so he couldn’t be too sure who she was talking to. Her voice was careful, gentle, and her tone was very respectful. He took the risk of making eye contact.

“Boss, are you okay with it?” She repeated. “If you have any feedback…”

Out of instinct, Levi nodded. “Yes, it looks like a great plan.” He could only thank whatever god, or whatever natural forces had made his voice naturally toneless and uninterested. That was the most he could have feigned anyway in such an unexpectedly tense situation.

Petra nodded and moved on from there. And whether or not the others had been looking at him, Levi couldn't tell too much. Their eyes fell back on the table in front of them, Petra continued to prattle on about logistics and upkeep.

Soon, Levi decided, he could probably just learn along the way. All he had to do was keep watch on the moderator’s table and encode data anyway.

Right? “I’ll go to the toilet first,” Levi whispered from behind Petra.

Petra saw him off with a subtle eyebrow raise.

With that bout of freedom, Levi broke away from the small crowd and made his way out of the gym. There probably was a toilet inside the gym but he didn’t bother to search for it. The point of the toilet break was the break more than the actual toilet.

Over the long drawn orientation, Levi realized he was tired, unmotivated and maybe a little desolate. Everything had the potential to tick him off and he just needed some time to breathe.

Maybe a long walk could help. Maybe pretending Hange didn’t exist for just a few minutes would help.

His emotions were a mush and he found himself in some strange in-between state as he strolled aimlessly through the campus. He was looking for a way to get lost while at the same time, he was looking for the most efficient way to make it to some empty toilet.

After a good number of unproductive minutes and a not-too-comforting toilet break had passed, Levi conceded. He might really have to do a quick search to even find his way back in such a big campus. After opening the maps app and confirming location, Levi made one last check on one certain application to satisfy his curiosity.

Purple. His emotional alarm confirmed. He was going to have to be productive despite being very purple.

Levi pocketed his phone and made the familiar trek back to the gym.

The gym exploded into a cacophony of rings from that familiar alarm and very annoying echoes that never seemed to end, both sounds Levi was all too tired of hearing already.

It didn't help at all that booting up his laptop and opening the sheet had been also an excruciatingly slow.

When he organized the stack of questionnaires into a pile next to his desk, he was just a little disconcerted. Disconcerted enough that it took him some time to notice that someone had settled onto the seat next to him.

Recognition came quickly, the first question came out instinctively. “Why are you here?” They were still close enough at least that Hange seemed to have gotten his question even with the little effort he put into speaking over background noises.

The flash of surprise in her eyes, beautifully framed as Hange furrowed her brows was very telling of Levi’s tone. Was he too abrasive? Well, they had a pretty good send off yesterday. Right? He eventually concluded, he probably could have been a little nicer.

Hange was a distraction. When Hange was next to him on the moderator’s table, it felt like a carrot was being dangled in front of him. When it was him and her, in front of hundreds or other people, some of them people who could potentially ask about Hange, he couldn't even act naturally around Hange.

Levi could only entertain the possibility that it would have been easier if she wasn't present.

It didn’t help at all that Zeke was just a few feet behind Hange. Sometimes, the blonde was rattling on about possible investment plans with some very irritating enthusiasm. Sometimes, he was talking to some other school official and sometimes he was on the phone with god-knows who. And every now and then--- No, not every now and then--- In very regular intervals, Levi would notice the way Zeke would stare at the both of them for just a few seconds.

Not infrequently enough for Levi to blame his own paranoia, yet too often for Levi to have noticed some pattern.

Hange though, hadn’t been very helpful. She started to type on her laptop much louder. “I volunteered to help encode data. Petra said during the briefing that you wouldn't be able to do it alone. Weren't you listening?"

Maybe he hadn't been listening. That didn't mean he had to admit it. “Only one person needs to do it,” Levi responded.

“We’re looking at hundreds or even thousands of data points.”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

Hange turned to him, her eyes observing. “And you seem tired.”

“Do I?” That last syllable came out as a croak. Hange’s own conjecture had left Levi thinking, then he was suddenly more aware of his own vulnerability.

When she stared at him for a while longer, her lips curling up into a soft smile, Levi had to acknowledge her ability to just see through him. He cleared his throat, swallowing that crack in his voice from a second ago.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked. She continued to type, sometimes she shifted to clicking with the mouse, maybe preparing a spreadsheet.

The question had come out of nowhere and in the air between them, it seemed almost out of place. What could he expect though after their last encounter?

He silently stumbled upon the answer. Nothing. There was no well-backed formula to navigate such complex circumstances.

Levi didn’t answer immediately, allowing himself a few minutes to at least come up with something fair. He leaned back on the metal chair and stared up at the ceiling. He dug into his pants, searching for anything to hold onto, dryer lint, a few odds and ends to distract himself with. He was a naturally fastidious person and consequently, digging into pockets had left him empty handed. With no choice but to answer, He opened his mouth slowly, before he could even come up with something. “Purple,” he eventually whispered.

It was still loud enough for Hange to hear. She responded soon afterwards. “I’m feeling green, very green.”

Happy sad? Or sad happy? Those questions never left his mouth. Maybe he was a little terrified to know the answer. Maybe he just didn’t trust himself to function if by some chance she said something he didn’t want to hear.

Besides, this was a professional relationship. They were colleagues, business partners.

And once again, Levi reminded himself. Why should she think of him as anything more than that?

“You’re not joining testing?” Levi asked.

They had been silent for a while, long enough for Levi to get tired of staring at Zeke and Erwin who had been engaged in some other conversation on a table towards the corner of the gym, some area concealed by some makeshift stage. From the moderators table situated right beside the stage. Levi couldn’t make out conversations but he could make out some of the gestures and mannerisms

There was another man, someone Levi didn’t recognize. A School Official?

It didn’t seem necessary for him to think too much of it. After all, it had seemed like a more casual conversation. Zeke though, always seemed to be having a relaxed conversation while Erwin never looked like he was having one.

“I left my phone...” It had felt like ages before Hange replied.

He didn’t even notice he had been waiting for her reply until he turned back, and returned her gaze. Until he found himself unable to respond, possibly out of shock.

She continued. “Back in the house…” Her words came slowly. Maybe she had been too engrossed in something else in her laptop to tell.

We have test devices. The suggestion seemed almost automatic

Levi’s mouth was already halfway open when she interrupted. “I’d personally rather I didn’t test the Love Alarm today. He might insist we test it but I thought it worth a shot to at least not have my phone with me, to make it less convenient.” She shrugged then gave him a knowing look.

You know why… Those had been the silent words between them. And there could have been a silent conversation after that, or a silent moment of comprehension. Something only two people whose love alarms rang under the mercy of the most complex of circumstances could have ever understood.

In the silence that followed, Levi kept himself busy encoding some of the data that had already come in. He was grateful there were still parts of the spreadsheet that needed fixing. He managed to prolong his busy-ness and as they continued, he was committed to keeping both of them occupied.

The answered questionnaires came more quickly, in thicker stacks and Levi only got enough to seem productive, leaving Hange with a slightly bigger stack. The unsynchronized clacks of the keyboards were enough to fill the air of the room, for a good long hour.

He tried to take control in his own way, maybe find rhythm with Hange's typing.

A part of him was desperate to fill the air between them with some casual conversation but when he opened his mouth, nothing much else came out. They were doing what they were supposed to do but Levi felt like a fish out of water.

With time and the right prodding, his thoughts flew back to Hange’s words just yesterday. Maybe she had been right. They were at the mercy of circumstances.

An hour or so could have passed before Zeke sauntered back into their table with Erwin trailing behind. Zeke slammed both hands on the table in some strange greeting. "Did you have our chauffeur pick your phone up?"

Hange looked up at Zeke, her expression unreadable. "No, I didn’t.”

Zeke had the face of a wounded monkey. “So you really don’t plan on joining the testing?”

Hange shrugged. “I’m fine just helping out here. I’ve done enough testing with the app already.”

“I want to test it with you,” Zeke said.

Hange returned Zeke’s look with her own consoling one. “We could always try it together another time?” She suggested.

Zeke didn’t seem satisfied. “I’ll call someone to bring it over.” He pulled out his phone.

Hange put her hands up in defense. “No need, besides, there might be something wrong with my phone. I plan on having it checked.”

“You could use one of the test devices here?” Erwin suggested.

A very unwelcome suggestion. Levi was tempted to look at Erwin, shooting daggers with his stare. Instead he bent over, just a little hiding his face behind the laptop screen.

“No no, don’t trouble yourself, other people might need it more,” Hange said.

"We could always buy a new phone?" Zeke seemed pretty certain about his suggestion. He had pulled out his phone as he spoke.

If Levi had been drinking then, he could have spit it out. Instead he had to settle for choking on his own saliva. What?

Erwin raised both eyebrows in shock. "Mr. Jaeger, do you mean buying a new phone for testing? We have a few test devices here. You shouldn't put yourself thought the trou--"

Zeke shook his head. "Believe me it's no trouble." He started to type. "Leave the test devices for people who actually need them. Buying a phone is no problem for me.”

Hange had opened her mouth to protest. Something could have caught at her throat and she looked back down at her laptop. She started to type faster, much faster than a while ago. The quick and off rhythm clack of the keyboard mixed with Zeke’s very firm orders at whoever poor sap was on the phone.

“Any particular model you’d like?” Zeke asked.

Hange shook her head. “You know my stand on this Zeke.”

“It’s a quick test,” Zeke justified. Seeming unbothered, he turned to Levi. “What type of model does the love alarm work best in?”

Erwin had been looking at him expectantly then and Levi found himself dropping a typical model, muttering it under his breath.

It hadn’t done much anyway. Zeke acted as if he hadn't been listening to Levi in the first place. Maybe he hadn't, his focus completely on whoever he was talking to on the phone. “Just buy the best model available and get it down here stat... Money won’t be a problem.”

Still, it was a total waste of money. Levi snuck a glare at Zeke from just above his laptop and a part of him was hoping he had gotten the message.

It was just like Erwin to find a diplomatic way to make his own thoughts known. “You really didn’t have to go through the trouble. We have some working phones which Hange could have borrowed.”

Zeke put one finger up as if to silence Erwin. “I think it’s a fair price for convenience. Besides, if your phone is broken, better to replace it right?" He turned to Hange with those last words.

To Levi, it seemed almost like a challenge.

A challenge to what? There were too many things running through his brain, useless things like estimations of phone prices and a price that would have meant installments to most people, so casually dropped by someone as insufferable as Zeke Jaeger.

He didn't trust himself to speak. So he encoded the last few papers in front of him onto their electronic sheet, slowly yet very carefully, willing his eyes to run through each number multiple times.

His brain was barely moving though.

When the new stack of papers came, care of Eld, Levi was an odd mix between grateful and exasperated.

When Zeke invited Hange out for lunch, he was an odd mix between relieved and just slightly offended.

By what? Of course Zeke wouldn't invite him.

Still, maybe it hurt just a little bit to have the seat next to him empty.

***

Levi settled for a lunch of a sandwich and whatever drink he got his hands on first. Nutrition facts and long term consequences to his overall health could wait another few decades.

Just like with toilet breaks, Levi went for the farther convenience store for no specific reason. Maybe to see a little more green or to allow himself some brain space to think and walk.

And maybe to run into Hange and Zeke again. He found himself thinking back to Hange at the hotel restaurant. It had happened only last Friday but somehow, it had felt like ages ago.

He shifted his gaze, looking subtly through cafe windows, searching for a mop of brown hair or maybe the well kept golden blonde. He came up with nothing.

With time, he gave up, and turned back to the school, passing through one of the nearby entrances, quietly looking through the map on his phone for assurance that he was still on the right path back.

The uniforms were the first sign he was on the right path. The students that had strolled purposefully through the characteristic red brick roads of the school were another sign.

All he had to do was follow the signs to make it back to the gym.

And as he walked on, he noticed other signs, like people with their phones held up, as if looking for an app, maybe? He couldn't be too sure. That was until he noticed two people hunched over, screaming obscenities about love, relationships and some ridiculous app, to surmise he must be nearby.

"Why the hell did it ring?"

"Relax Connie, it's just an app."

"Just in case you forgot, you're in a relationship. Niccolo could kill me for this."

Levi looked back fast enough to catch the nonchalant shrug of the brunette.

"He won't," the brunette continued. "Besides, who cares about what an app says. I already committed to a relationship with him ----”

“I care!”

“Okay then,” She looked dumbfounded or maybe that had been her natural face. She paused for a second, looking upward, seeming deep in thought before she spoke up again. “Why are you so worked up over this?”

There was a bench nearby and for a good few seconds, Levi was eyeing it, especially while the two young students continued to chatter on about his application. The conversation got a little more interesting and it had been all the easier to decide to take a moment to settle on the bench and scroll through his own phone.

“Sasha, tell me… What did you put in the questionnaire.” Connie asked, only confirming the girl’s name for Levi.

“Isn’t that confidential?” Sasha challenged.

Technically it was confidential. Levi had to note and the two were talking in such a recklessly loud manner and even Levi a good few feet away was within earshot. Just to seem less like a peeping Tom, he put both earbuds on.

“I said I trusted you, that I’m happy with you. I think about you a lot. Maybe that’s why it rang for me.”

Levi noticed it from his peripherals, the way the girl named Sasha tensed up and froze on the spot. He found himself cheering silently for the young boy.

Connie, that’s his name right?

“Connie, we’ve been best friends for years… Of course I’d feel the same way about you.”

“So… If the alarm rang for both of us…” Connie never finished his sentence. Or maybe he did, his voice had slowly deadened into murmurs and in response.

Sasha’s jaw dropped, reminiscent of only Hange’s face just yesterday when they separated by the boarding gate.

In shock? In confusion? There were only too many reasons for that expression but Levi was feeling conservative with his guesses. They were a bunch of teenagers, what did they know about love and relationships?

Sasha’s expression softened into a kind smile. “We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…”

Their voices had softened to a whisper as the conversation only got more and more serious and Levi was starting not to make out most of what they were saying. He did notice though how she mentioned something about a man named Niccolo, something about a choice to date someone.

And he concluded, maybe it was for the better that he left the two alone to discuss their problems.

He silently scolded himself for even getting invested in that conversation in the first place.

***

Whatever results Connie and Sasha gave were completely anonymous and as Levi scrolled through the datasets on the sheet, he felt almost guilty for prying so deeply into some stranger's personal business. Embarrassingly, it had reached a point where he had been invested enough to guess which of the results were theirs based on the conversation a while ago.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he let the guilt take over and he stopped himself. Instead, he turned back to the stack of papers that needed encoding.

Maybe one of the papers is there. Levi guessed then he mentally slapped himself for that bout of desperation.

“You should put a minimum age on this Love Alarm app.”

Levi looked up to see Hange had pulled back the seat and settled down next to him. “Why?” he asked. The question seemed more for posterity. Levi was starting to guess the answer himself.

“On the way back from lunch, we ran into a few students fighting.” She chuckled, her voice was light, her tone almost mischievous. “It looks like the love alarm might have started some drama.”

Levi wondered how she could even manage such a conversation when there were more pressing matters on hand. Still, he decided to engage. “I ran into two kids outside too. They were talking about their results with the love alarm.”

Hange raised one eyebrow in interest. “Oh?”

“And one of them’s in a relationship already.” Soon after those words leaked out, Levi wondered if he should have even admitted it. They seemed too painfully familiar.

“So, it just proves, even in a committed relationship, it could ring. Right?” Hange asked.

“Of course it would. The love alarm wouldn’t be able to tell if you’re in a relationship right?” Levi responded. “All the app measures is…” Love. He was careful that second time around. “Compatibility. Unable to multitask at that moment, he dropped his hand right next to the laptop. He looked to Hange, only to notice she hadn’t even started on the second stack yet.

Her eyes were on him and she was still looking very much invested in the conversation. “And I told you, I think your app is working fine.”

Levi continued. “But they’re high school students.”

“Are you saying high school students aren’t capable of love?”

Levi almost choked on his own saliva. “What? No, I never said that.” He took a deep breath. “But there are nuances when considering compatibilities right, something people wouldn’t figure out for themselves early in life.”

“Your application is able to detect those nuances even if people aren’t aware of it themselves then. Going back to those two kids you ran into, let’s assume the love alarm was correct and those two really were compatible with each other. Explain the situation Levi.”

Levi had to pick at his brain. He had to do and undo knots from inside him so maybe it had taken him a bit longer to get those words out. He stared in front of him, trying to find organization in the way Petra had guided the new set of volunteers in.

Luckily, Hange had been patient.

He didn’t spend too much time wondering how long he had made her wait, he looked up at her, and leaned his cheek further into the palm of his hand. He spoke up. “One of them is in a relationship already. Her name is Sasha. The other one—I think his name is Connie— is a childhood friend.”

“Oh, childhood friends to lovers huh?” Hange gestured playfully for him to continue speaking.

Levi had momentum in the conversation, so he willed himself to continue. “And it rang for both of them, and they were talking about it. I couldn’t tell too much from the conversation but---”

“Do you think Sasha would leave her boyfriend just because the love alarm rang?” Hange could have been a mind reader and it was just like her to go straight to the point. Her voice was a little louder. At that point, she leaned back on her chair, and stared straight ahead. Her expression was painfully unreadable.

That had shortened Levi’s tirade by minutes, maybe seconds. That unexpected query left Levi frozen for a while.

“Should a love alarm ringing be worth two people reconsidering long term relationships?” Hange pressed.

Even if he didn’t have an answer for himself. Levi bit his lip and stared straight ahead. It was an easy enough question to answer, a very logical one. All he had to do was look back at whatever snippets he got of the conversation back in the schoolyard to grasp for some right answer.

Even if it is true, we made our choices. And a high school student admitting that of all things, should have been a glaring sign that maybe Levi had been a little immature, having been bothered by the prospect of ‘love being a choice’ for so long.

No, a love alarm shouldn’t be worth it. Levi had opened his mouth, ready to answer it with a simple and most objectively correct answer.

Even if the love alarm was correct, we made our choices. He had accepted it already weeks back, a sad kind of happiness.

Acceptance. But why was a part of him still resisting? He was looking for something. He looked back at Hange who sat, unmoving, he continued to search for it, studying whatever features his eyes would land on, from her cold eyes right until her pursed lips.

Acceptance. Levi repeated to himself. That had been enough to quell the drive to search within him

“Is a loving alarm ringing, really worth it?” Hange asked again. She had more to say, it was very much apparent in her cold professional demeanor. He could have sworn he saw something else, something that made him reflect on whether that question had been rhetorical or whether Hange really expected him to answer.

Worth throwing our lives away? Levi finished the sentence for her in his head and he almost regretted it. His heart ached, he found himself almost unable to breathe. It had been a miracle he managed to continue speaking.

Acceptance. He had accepted it a long time ago already. Maybe that had been the reason he had still managed to look her in the eye then. Levi took a deep breath. “It isn’t,” he admitted.

Hange dropped her shoulders and leaned back on the chair. She closed her eyes and let out an exhale.

A natural response to the thick tension between them. Still, something inside him was desperate for an inkling of her truth and he continued to search.

Hange looked back at him. In those few seconds, she had managed to compose herself and Levi was just having a much harder time reading her.

She spoke up again. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not,” Levi admitted.

“Is there anything else you wanna talk about?” Hange was once again cold and professional.

Brushing away disappointment, Levi shook his head. “No. Let’s go back to work.” It looked like that 'casual' conversation had taken some turn for the worse and he was just a little tired from that.

***

After an hour or so, Levi had attempted again to loosen whatever tension blanketed both of them with another light conversation topic.

The few times he tried, he was interrupted. Events were only happening one after the other and he was starting to realize how difficult it was to keep a calm and disconnected conversation. Every other few minutes, they were coming at him with new reports, new stacks of paper, new developments.

“This is the last time we’re testing on high school students,” Levi muttered. He was almost relieved their last conversation had ended on an abrupt note. Maybe that wasn’t a conversation they should have been reaching in such a hectic situation.

“I’ll tell Zeke about this,” Hange responded calmly.

A huge chunk of Levi’s attention was on the scene in front of him just a few rows back There were, two girls, a small blonde and a dark lanky brunette a few inches taller, right next to them was a burly blond man. The blond man seemed almost devastated, the brunette seemed defensive and it looked like the small blond girl was trying to pacify both of them with a rattled Oluo in tow.

“How did you even convince a bunch of high school students to volunteer to test the app?” Levi asked half heartedly. That seemed like a casual conversation starter. He kept a good amount of his focus to his side, just in case Hange spoke up, he wouldn’t miss it.

Hange put one finger to her chin. "Zeke was pretty smart about it…” He pointed out something. "Teenagers are very simple minded yet very cynical at the same time. Just put the right bribe in front of them, concert tickets, front row tickets to a game in exchange for testing some product which seemingly tests their status with love? Most teenagers took the bait. " She grinned and spoke up again, her tone a little higher. “What can a simple phone app say about something as complex as love? Besides, the love alarm is a pretty harmless app right?”

She didn't really believe that right?

I mean, technically it is. Theoretically, all it did was measure compatibility. Most people should have chalked it up to something similar to horoscopes, superstitions or fortune telling. That information was on a nice-to-know basis but not necessarily life changing.

Levi only had to look ahead again to be reminded, maybe the Love Alarm just had that effect on people. Maybe users were underestimating their own ability to be unaffected by some reading on an application. The success of the Love Alarm was enough of an answer. The proliferation of app usage in the dating sphere was another hint. And the love alarm and the emotions alarm having some reign over Levi’s moods lately should have been another huge, visceral hint.

Levi set aside that last hint as soon as he articulated it in his mind. Instead, he turned his thoughts to an exhausted Oluo who was making his way to the table.

"This is a good lesson boss. We really should put a minimum age restriction on this," Oluo said as he sat back down on the chair next to Levi, seeming completely spent.

"You're not the first one to tell me that," Levi responded.

"You see that couple there? That small girl and that brown haired girl are in a relationship already. And that big guy, he has a thing for the small girl," Oluo explained. It looked like he had tried to keep a facade of disinterest, a shoddy one.

Levi saw easily through it. "I can see that." He kept his own tone seemingly unaffected. He wondered if it showed.

Either way, Oluo seemed too invested in whatever love stories he was speculating. "And the love alarm just made things slightly… complicated."

Levi narrowed his eyes, following the trio that only a while ago had been fighting.

He focused then on the brunette and the blonde, the subtle way they held hands, the wide eyed, seemingly permanent smile on the small blonde’s face. The brunette on the other hand seemed to wear a permanent scowl on her face. That was, unless she was staring at the smaller girl. He then looked down at the two hands, held close to each other.

He shook his head when he realized he had been staring at it for a little too long. He looked back at the burly blonde man, who stepped back, seeming disappointed, almost embarrassed.

"It helps articulate emotions. That’s the point of the Love Alarm because some people don’t even know they’re feeling something until someone—or something points it out right?" He turned almost instinctively back to Hange, only to feel a slight drop in his stomach.

Hange didn’t look back at him, seeming focused on whatever was in front of her. Her concentration made it difficult to see what had caught her eye.

Oluo continued. "There are two blondes over there. I think their names were Aaron… Arnie…? Anyway they have almost similar names." He subtly pointed towards another pair.

Still, it had been easy for Levi to trace the view to the two blondes next to each other, seeming nervous as they made their way through the crowd then to the table with the questionnaires. There was an awkward air about them, but he couldn’t help but notice the subtle smile plastered on both of their faces.

It only pushed Levi to look more closely at the papers as they were submitted to Petra. Petra had conveniently piled them on top of the stack and Levi followed it all the way until the mods table.

He looked over the answers.

All Yes boxes were ticked. Did they trust each other? Yes. Did they think about each other a lot? Yes. Levi double checked the question on the remarks filled up by a facilitator.

Did the love alarm ring? The ‘Yes’ box was ticked on both papers

"It looks like the Love Alarm can tie up romantic loose ends," Hange commented.

Levi only noticed when she had spoken up that she had craned her neck to read the questionnaire next to him. It looked like she had been listening the whole time. She gestured towards the exit of the gym where the two blondes seemed to be deep in conversation. From the distance, he noticed the red tint in both of their cheeks.

Then one raised their hand slightly, the other clutched it. Then Levi conceded, there was some truth to Hange’s comment. But he was tempted to challenge it. "Maybe because they mustered the courage to confess," Levi suggested as he encoded the numbers onto the spreadsheet. “They allowed themselves to feel whatever they were actually feeling.”

"Well, circumstances were in their favor right? I'm sure there are a lot more cases where just admitting would be slightly more complicated than that, like those two kids you mentioned a while ago."

Levi turned towards Hange, keeping his face as serious as possible. "I wanna know, why would admitting it be hard?"

Hange hummed "Rejection maybe?" Her face seemed innocent, mockingly innocent.

A little ticked, Levi was uncharacteristically in the mood for a little back and forth. "You've been talking about reading and acting on circumstances so many times this past weekend, I'm sure you know it's not always about rejection."

For the first time in a while, Levi was raring to talk. From the messy facade of disconnect, Hange’s expression shifted to that of hesitance, nervousness. For a good few moments, she was frozen on her seat. And he started to realize why he had been so strangely talkative since a while ago.

He was in a strange state of mind, he desperately wanted answers to questions he couldn’t yet articulate. Was he just not satisfied? Or was Hange just deliberately not giving them?

"Do you think it's embarrassing to feel something for someone?" Levi broke the silence with one question he managed to forage from the back of his mind.

Hange answered with a quick sentence. “No, it’s not.”

"Of course it's not, but when you think about your situation and you realize you’re not supposed to be feeling a certain way... Should you be ashamed about feeling that way?" He pressed.

"We can't assume how we feel right? Before we even delve into that, we have to consider whether or not we really feel that emotion right?"

"But when we’re sure we already feel it,” Levi clarified.

"But if you allow your emotions to play a part, all you do is muddle your own ability to analyze. I think everyone should analyze the situation first with a very cal—"

"I think that's pride," Levi said firmly. "I think pride is refusing to let yourself feel it in the first place."

Hänge hummed. "Well, then assuming that circumstances are so simple that you can just feel whatever you want… that's prejudice right? You only get past initial prejudice when you learn to analyze what's beyond the situation. The more you know, the more you understand, the freer you are."

"But you're only free if you let yourself feel, then after that, you let yourself understand," Levi said. So maybe just letting go, enough to let yourself feel, maybe that's freedom?"

Hange shook her head. "Thinking while letting your emotions run free? It's not that easy. You’re just gonna end up a slave to your emotions."

“Well, would I rather be a slave to my cold calculating brain or to my emotions? We can’t control emotions. We can’t control circumstances either. So what now?” Levi said, looking pointedly at Hange. He only realized then when the hoarseness of his throat caught up to him, that somewhere along the way he had raised his voice.

Hange’s eyes were wide and when she spoke up again, her voice was notably softer. It looked like she had raised her voice as well. “I assess the situation, and then I decide what to feel, what to do.”

Levi sighed. "Hange, I have another theory,” he started. “What if freedom is acting logically and objectively despite emotions?" He only noticed it soon after, he had adopted Hange’s mannerisms with those last few sentences.

Hange seemed unsurprised. She shook her head. “You can take control of your emotions more easily than your circumstances.”

"I don’t agree with that. No one can control how they feel. So I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of how they feel? Why do people have to stop themselves from feeling?" Levi asked. "Connie, that guy I ran into, the love alarm rang... They're best friends...there's acceptance there… isn't what's important is what we do with the feelings? I understand the circumstan—"

"Do you really understand it Levi?" Hange asked. She gestured with her face towards what was in front of them. The voices, the background noise became somewhat clearer as he watched the scuffle in front of him.

Levi huffed. “I understand that the Love Alarm isn’t enough reason for anyone to switch up their relationships…”

Sasha’s words echoed in his head. We’ve been best friends for years...even if it is true…

He continued. “But if the love alarm was correct, if the love were true, real… shouldn’t the users just accept these feelings for what they are?” Levi only noticed it a second later, when his eyes had locked on Hange that he had mimicked her position, leaning back on the chair. “Is it really so wrong to just accept sometimes, that love is an emotion and sometimes we just can’t control how we feel right? Maybe there is still a lot we can learn from an unrequited love.”

Hange furrowed her eyebrows. “We?”

“‘We’ as in every single person, who ever had to deal with an unrequited love.”

Hange didn't respond to that, she made some other excuse about how they had to work on the next set of results conveniently stacked in front of them.

Another attempt at some light conversation had left Levi winded. The words on the paper then on the screen were starting to blur amongst one another. His head was starting to throb. He found himself lowering the screen of his laptop just a bit and staring straight ahead, just for a break from the soft white glare.

He snuck a glance at Hange, who seemed just a little exhausted as well, her shoulders dropped, her wrists falling more recklessly onto the table as she typed.

The more people that filed in through the entrance, the more Levi realized it was a busy day. They shouldn't have been spending too much time discussing the relationships of people they would never see again. They shouldn’t have spent too much time discussing some useless philosophy on love when there were more pressing things to deal with.

Levi couldn't help but wonder. How the hell did all of their light conversation topics end up so heavy?

Or maybe he was the only one feeling that way. It looked like Hange had recovered first from that casual conversation turned deep. She looked up in one swift movement and spoke up, breaking the ringing silence between them. "That's Eren, Zeke's brother," she subtly pointed her thumb towards the side and Levi had to crane his neck to see behind her.

It wasn't too hard to pick him up. Eren was a tall teenager and he was followed by a young girl with chin length hair and an almost demanding presence despite being a little shorter.

"And that's Mikasa, his best friend,” Hange added.

Levi followed Eren with his eyes to see that he had gone to that corner just to talk to Zeke. Whatever they were talking about, he couldn't tell much from his end.

He looked to Hange for answers.

There was a flash of excitement in her eyes and she looked very much like she was holding in some interesting story, torn between speaking and watching the developments closely.

"You wanna tell me about them?" Levi asked when the anticipation finally became unbearable.

Hange seemed particularly focused as she watched Zeke and Eren talk. Levi even guessed that she may have heard that hushed conversation between them.

"He and Mikasa have been best friends for years… You know it's funny, her last name is Ackerman too. Are you related?" She commented

Levi never had enough bougie connections to have any cousins in swanky private schools so he brushed that question away. "Okay, what about them?"

Hange tapped one hand on the space between them on the table then pointed their way as Mikasa and Eren started to tap at their phones, with Petra looking like she was explaining something on her own phone.

They were downloading the app.

A young boy, a few inches taller than Eren joined the crowd. Levi followed the taller boy's gaze as they landed on Mikasa.

He tried to make sense of the conversation. Lip reading had never been his forte though.

"I don't recognize the taller guy," Hange admitted.

It was someone else who answered the question. "That's one of Eren's friends, Jean."

Levi turned behind him to see Zeke, the latter making his way to the seat on the other side of Hange. And just like that, Hange had turned away from him and started to engage with Zeke. When Hange willed it, it looked like she had a way of just making her voice unintelligible to him. Levi considered craning his neck, just to pick up some of the conversation, yet it seemed almost intruding.

That was Zeke and Hange’s conversation not his.

So he stared at the trio in front of him. When he had nothing else to do but encode the stack of papers next to him or make some mental detour about how they should automate such an archaic process, he found it easy to remember the names of the three kids, all an even distance away from each other, their eyes all on their phones.

Eren, Mikasa and Jean. Levi leaned back and watched the events in front of him unfold.

The gym was a constant slew of echoes and alarms and he couldn’t really tell the exact alarm that could have been from any of the three of them. He had to rely on expressions.

Jean turned a bright red. Mikasa had made a seemingly apologetic look at Jean. Then at Eren?

Eren didn’t blush, but he had seemed a little uncomfortable at the turn of events, apparent in the way he had tensed up, the way he turned his head sharply towards Jean.

Mikasa walked in between both boys, holding her hands up as if to separate the two. Maybe the dark glare she had given both boys had done the trick. The tension remained but there seemed little to no threat of a scuffle anymore.

Somewhere along the way, Eld had appeared next to the three with six sheets of paper and three pens. Eren came from behind Mikasa, walking notably nearer to her than a while ago.

They were whispering. Mikasa turned behind her to Jean who was following behind, a wide eyed look on her face and soon after Eld left, Zeke appeared next to Eren. He looked like he was pacifying the young teenager while the latter had gripped at his two sheets a little too hard.

Talking to him? Advising him? Levi didn’t ponder for long. He decided he didn’t want to think about Zeke.

“Zeke filled me in.” Of all things, that had been Hange’s conversation starter.

Levi didn’t know if he should be grateful or just irritated that of all things Hange had to mention him. “Go on,” he said as if just speaking would be enough to get rid of that twinge of irritation.

“It looks like Eren doesn’t know yet that he likes Mikasa. Or that’s Zeke’s speculation. So Zeke expected it to ring.”

“Wow, your husband takes the time out of his busy schedule to actually speculate on the love life of his younger brother.” Levi attempted not to lace his tone with sarcasm. As it turned out, even a sentence like that sounding emotionless or even friendly would seem sarcastic.

If Hange did notice it, she ignored it. “With the looks on their faces, I’m guessing it did ring.”

“For both of them?”

“For both of them maybe,” Hange said.

Another stack of papers were dropped in front of them, a few greetings were exchanged care of Gunther and once again, Levi was sifting through the pile for the more crumpled papers.

There were no names but he could make an intelligent guess. The crumpled papers were Eren’s definitely.

Did the alarm ring with your partner? Yes.

Just under it were two more papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“That looks like Eren’s hand writing, and that one’s Mikasa,” Hange pointed out. “I knew it.”

“So this means, Mikasa’s alarm rang with both Eren and Jean,” Levi said as he ran his hands over the papers.

Did the alarm ring? Yes.

“Then maybe, Jean’s alarm rang with Mikasa?” Hange guessed, giving him an expectant look. “Jean is one of Eren’s close friends from school apparently, and according to Zeke, he has the hots for Mikasa too.”

Levi looked at Hange. Her eyebrows were raised, her mouth played into a wide grin and for just a second, Levi could have felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Well who do you think Mikasa will pick?”

“That’s her choice right?”

“Zeke told me, one reason he wanted to test the love alarm here was to get his brother in one place with all the others who were crushing on Mikasa. He wanted Eren and Mikasa to realize something. Something that only the Love Alarm can prove maybe?"

"Love? Yearning?" Levi was spouting all too familiar emotions, or more specifically, he was spitting them out, like they were laced with poison.

Hange shrugged. "The love alarm causes chaos but sometimes it can tie loose ends."

Something inside him snapped. "Then why the fuck bring it up if you're just gonna answer with something vague."

Hange didn't seem surprised at all, and the more Levi stared, the more he realized he would have been annoyed either way.

A surprised Hange meant she probably didn't care. An expectant Hange meant she was hiding something.

"Levi…" Hange started. She took her time saying his name but she didn't say much else afterwards as if she was at a loss for words.

"We've been talking since a while ago. " Levi asked. "I wanna know, what are you trying to tell me? There must be a point to all these conversations."

"There's a point to this."

"Then, What. Is. It." Levi challenged.

"I told you, I don't want to rely on this love alarm to tell me how to feel. I want to decide how to feel."

"Want?"

"I will not allow it to tell me how I feel."

"Then I guess we won't agree. Look, I don't care about changing our circumstances right now. I don't give a fuck if after all this you leave." Levi mustered up some courage to look up at Hange.

She seemed lost in thought, yet at the same time, she seemed to be staring straight into him.

Levi only saw it as opportunity to continue but he was a little more careful that time, letting his voice soften into a whisper. "The most I want out of you is just some proof that this love alarm thing wasn't a sham. You said it yourself, it's not a bug right? Why did you say that? Why did you say that and now you're suddenly pretending that nothing happened?"

Hange opened her mouth to speak and she couldn't have gone any slower. He would have liked to blame the anticipation at first, the thick heavy tension that only made it harder to move.

When a box dropped in between both of them with a thump, Levi concluded, Hange had just been slow, fucking slow.

"We have a new phone. Download the app in, let's test," Zeke ordered. Who the hell was he ordering at that moment? Levi and Hange both couldn't tell.

Yet, their responses were surprisingly coordinated. Hange went for the box, quickly unwrapping it. Levi went for his laptop, pulling credentials from the system and a download link to be sent to the new phone.

It was only halfway through, when he was sending over the link did he notice it. Reciting the log-in details, he was only silently and peacefully walking to whatever chaos awaited them at the end. Yet, somehow he couldn't stop. Hange had seemed accepting too, overly professional about the whole process of testing and possibly inadvertently exposing her strange yet very personal love alarm results.

Around the time when Hange was going through the biometrics, Levi thought it polite to resist just a little. "You sure you wanna go through with this?"

"Who said I wanted to?" Hange asked.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, what do we tell Zeke then?"

Levi couldn't think up a response to that so he kept quiet. He let his mind wander. Then he agreed it wasn't a matter of Hange wanting to do something.

It was a matter of Zeke getting what he wanted.

Levi couldn't sit still. He couldn't bring himself to even get past the first paper on his new pile. His eyes were on the screen in front of him but he had snuck glances just above him towards the crowds of people so often that he might as well have just been looking ahead.

Eventually, he dropped the pile, gave up on getting any more done. He lost all self consciousness and just looked straight ahead.

It felt like he was watching an execution. It could have been his own execution, Hange’s execution or maybe even the whole company’s in slow motion.

He couldn't answer that particular question yet. With time, maybe he could. All he had to do was get past the few minutes that seemed like years, even decades.

Zeke was taking his sweet time, murmuring sweet nothings to Hange and Hange had taken her sweet time double checking those fucking biometrics. To the point where Levi actually spent a good amount of time brainstorming how to streamline the whole registration process.

The build up had been unbearably slow. Fucking slow. Petra stood next to them, preparing two sheets of paper and Levi found himself passing the time trying to answer it in his head.

The climax came very anticlimactically.

There were less people in the gym already, especially so late in the day. So when Levi craned his neck to hear it, he could almost pick it out, that one ring on their side of the gym. He only surmised that Hange's alarm rang when he noticed the way Zeke had wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows.

Hange's back was to the moderator's table so Levi couldn't make out her face, as desperate as he was to know.

He wasn't that desperate yet. In fact, his own reaction to the chain of events didn't come as quickly as he had wanted to. Of all things, it had been Erwin’s expectant stare, the uncharacteristic panic in his eyes that had Levi standing.

“Levi could you check up on them?” It was Erwin’s order that had Levi making his way to them.

It had been the look of panic in Petra’s face that had him speeding up. And the closer he got, the more he realized how much he had wanted to see Hange’s face.

But business came first. “It looks like there’s still something wrong with the app.” Zeke’s words had surprisingly been polite. Levi’s first instinct was to search for the venom and the sarcasm and maybe he had sensed some.

For a mainly back office employee, diplomacy had seemed like the hardest part. There were only two things Levi would have been most comfortable doing then: turn to Petra and have her do the speaking or step forward, look back and take a peak at Hange who had stood unmoving since the alarm rang.

A sense of obligation was all he needed to meet Zeke’s eyes. He had to clench his jaw, he had to narrow his eyes just to keep some grip on the situation.

And it might only get worse.

He stepped forward, a few more steps then past Hange and it was only getting harder not to look back.

Zeke’s presence was domineering. His money, his power over whatever work Levi was doing was an unignorable reality. “It looks like the Love Alarm might not be working as expected," he said calmly.

Levi had his months worth of research and testing to look back to. And one thought, one long split second later, one deep breath later, he let it out, not confidently but just professional enough to at least get his point across.

“It’s working as expected,” Levi mustered. How many ways could he say something like that without insulting a billionaire? He wondered what Erwin would have said, what Hange would have said, what crazy lingo their marketing or public relations team would have come up with. Levi though had been the one who had slaved for years over that application. He would have been the only one to know the gravity of such a statement. “The love alarm is working as expected,” he repeated, just in case the message didn’t come across.

Maybe it didn’t. Zeke narrowed his eyes. “How can you be sure? Have you done the proper testing?”

“We’ve been testing this for months. Mr. Jaeger, it’s working as expected,” Levi repeated. He willed himself to keep the tone at the least, emotionless. At that moment, when he was also resisting the urge to look back at Hange it had been almost an impossible task.

Zeke let out one exhale. Then, his voice was soft, almost deathly cold. “Would you like to test again Mr. Ackerman?”

Test? Levi let his mouth drop just half way down. “Here?”

“You've taken a liking to Hange haven't you? I heard about it, if I've not noticed it myself.

Heard from who? Asking questions, Levi knew he would be only delaying the inevitable and a part of him wanted to delay it.

“Levi go turn on your Love Alarm,” Erwin ordered.

At the least, he had an excuse to look back. He caught Hange behind him for a split second. Her face was a strange mix between utter acceptance. The more Levi looked though, the easier it had been to pick out something else. A hint of pleading, too small that it could have been his imagination.

Levi looked away.

And Erwin wasn’t allowing him a second look. “Levi, is something wrong?” It wasn’t a question of concern. Levi had know Erwin enough to guess, it was merely a nice way of telling him to hurry.

Levi pulled his phone from his pocket, navigated to the application and activated in one quick motion. If he spared any more time, he might just hesitate.

There were three separate rings that filled the dead air between the four of them. At first, Levi had attributed the profundity, the implicit ringing in his ears to just the weight of the moment. Time was moving at a snail’s pace and by the time he had come to his senses, by the time Zeke had brought out his phone turning the empty screen towards him, Levi was suddenly aware that there were only three rings that graced the whole gym.

The gym had gone silent. All eyes were on them and the ringing of the three arms only continued, supplemented by whatever echoes followed.

And it would only continue unless someone moved to turn off their love alarm. Even in complete shock, Levi surmised that much.

Erwin had been the first to have composed himself. He took one to step back, then a few more. Then he was completely out of range of the love alarm.

The three alarms continued to ring.

Zeke was next to move. His face was completely unreadable and he had bent his head down, his eyes seeming glued to the screen.

From that angle, Levi could never be too sure of Zeke’s reaction.

Zeke eventually looked up, his face cold, almost expressionless. He held his phone up, only dangling it from the ground by three fingers.

The contents though were what had Levi still struggling to move. It had been expected, but to see it in the silence, when the air around them was heavy, when they were under close watch by tens if not hundreds of people, that had only served to make his stomach drop.

Zeke deactivated the alarm, and the alarm, barren of any hearts, shifted back to the title screen.

One sound disappeared. Two were left. And when everything else was silent, Levi couldn’t help but grovel silently at how annoyingly loud the ringing actually was.

He looked back at Hange. She had stood quiet and unmoving those few moments that seemed to last an eternity. When Levi looked back though, their gazes locked almost instantly.

Hange’s eyes were wide, her mouth pursed into some lopsided line and when Levi looked closer, he could have sworn he saw that flash of pleading again.

Pleading for what?

In such a fast paced world, on a Monday of all days, there was not much time to ponder. He had felt almost guilty staring, finding some way to placate her with his eyes alone. Eventually they were escorted out. Hange and Zeke went ahead and Hange as usual, had Zeke’s strong protective arm around her.

“Levi, we’re going to have to discuss this,” Erwin said. He walked ahead, gesturing for Levi to follow behind.

As always, Levi followed, slowly and sluggishly. It took him a minute more to realize he had almost forgotten to turn off the alarm.

***

“There’s no bug,” Levi repeated again. He attempted to compose himself but there was only so much he could do when he was the only one standing in the small conference room.

Zeke had settled on the sofa and as expected, no one protested. He put one hand to his chin, in mock surprise. “I could have sworn it had been working a few months ago.”

“We had a test build.” Hange spoke up from next to him, her voice was soft. It lacked the melody it usually had. “We needed the funds to continue digging into that bug so we created a build… for extra testing.”

“And I would have gladly given the funds either way,” Zeke said. “The burning question is, did you even find the bug?”

“There’s. No. Bug.” Levi kept his tone firm and professional. He wondered if the venom had made it out of his mouth.

“You gave up pretty fast,” Zeke commented.

And that was the moment Levi realized, there were things Zeke might never understand about the testing process. It was a complete waste of time explaining the difficulty of labor to someone who treated an ordinary person’s full time job as just another vessel for investment.

“Tell me, Mr. Ackerman. If there’s no bug, can you explain to me the reason behind the strange behavior of the application?” Zeke said.

The question had come as a challenge, something Levi was in no mood to take. When Erwin was giving him a long side eyed glance, he knew he’d have to make something work.

“It tests compatibility,” Levi said. “How well people would probably make as a pair, the potential to… get together.” He found himself dancing around definitions, avoiding the word ‘love’ like a plague.

But that wasn’t love. He would rather it wasn't love. Then and there, he almost considered applying for a name change.

“Zeke, love is a choice,” Hange said. “Whatever result the application gives is never going to affect this relationship. I wouldn’t let it.”

“Can you explain then why you have so much faith in this application then?”

Hange turned to Levi and nodded. “It has potential.”

“Potential for further research. You told me that before,” Zeke’s voice was only getting louder. “But can you really trust this application, this developer, after he inadvertently confesses, after your own application rings for him. And he refuses to admit to a bug.”

“Because it’s not a bug,” Hange said. “I was testing with him, I know.”

“So are you saying you’re in love with Mr. Ackerman?”

Hange dropped her shoulders, then looked straight ahead. “In another life, maybe we could have been compatible. If things didn’t end the way it did, maybe Levi and I could have gotten together and we would have been happy. I think that’s what the love alarm meant to say. Circumstances are different though. I’m married to you. I am committed to you.”

“But, are you in love with him?” Zeke pressed.

Hange shook her head. “I don’t think the Love Alarm measures love. It measures emotions, compatibility. Zeke, this thing between is, it's something we built overtime, something we grew together?”

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Hange and Levi followed his eyes back to her to see that pleading expression once again. Hange was still pleading, that time that expression was directed towards Zeke.

“Is it, Hange? Is love something which grows over time?” Zeke pressed.

Levi noticed Hange's face had fallen, her eyes widened but the pleading in her expression only grew. Then Levi made a silent yet outrageous guess.

Hange was pleading. Pleading for answers?

Zeke turned to Erwin then to Levi, his eyes once again cold and serious. "Can you give me and Hange some space first? We need to discuss something."

Maybe Zeke had guessed something similar and as Erwin led Levi out of the room, he was starting to accept that he might never know. Levi’s legs were heavy. The glass door had difficult to pull close and when he had shut the door behind him with a click, he felt like he had been lifting weights.

Or maybe he was just finding an excuse not to leave. There was that in between, something similar to the desolation of rejection and another pathetic emotion.

Denial. There was more to their circumstances for sure. Hange’s strange expression, the wide eyes, the almost seemingly curious glimmer and the pleading that never seemed to fall away.

Out of curiosity, or even desperation, Levi ended up waiting outside for a second longer, positioning himself somewhere where he wouldn’t so easily be seen.

The door was an orderly combination of frosted glass, wooden frames and transparent glass. When Levi sat on the sofa just in front of the doorway, burying himself into some social media timeline, he still had enough headspace to crane his neck up, and just make out positions just behind the frosted class.

Behind the portion of clearer glass, Levi could see Hange was still sitting on the sofa but her posture had shifted into something strangely uncharacteristic. She rested her forehead on her palm and she was bending over, staring at something at the palm of her hand.

The familiar silver of Zeke's phone. What was she staring at?

It felt almost intrusive asking, so Levi ended his own mental reflection there. Instead, he focused on how Hange had looked back up, a look of panic, concern. She was calling out to Zeke maybe?

In a few swift movements, Zeke had come right beside her, he pressed her towards the clear glass.

And he kissed her.

Head empty, thoughts elsewhere, Levi didn't feel it immediately. But eventually it did come. It was a strong wave and for a while, Levi was bombarded.

A second later, he was drowning.

Over a small view? Something between the slits of glass? When he got his grip back on reality, he let his eyes wander over the intricate design of the door and to to the only part of Hange that was reflecting some glimmer of protest.

The fingers of her right hand were pressed on the doorway and Levi continued to watch that less painful view from the one just above it. Hange’s hand continued to twitch, then it went back up and gripped Zeke by the waist. Then suddenly her arm had snaked over Zeke's back then pulled him into one tight embrace.

One tight embrace in front of him and Levi started to think it almost laughable that he had even searched for some rebellion in that intimate moment.

Why would she rebel? She told him herself, she loved him. Yet, why was he still searching for something? Why did he hyperfixate on such a subtle movement that could have meant nothing in that grand scheme of things.

And when Levi mustered the courage to look away from the hand, back up to the view of their heads pressed against each other, he noticed Zeke was looking in his direction. When their eyes met, Zeke narrowed them and raised his chin up in some strange indignance, some vague threat. Then his curled up into a small smile, not wide enough to have ever been genuine.

And the overall expression had Levi dropping his shadows in some cruel realization. Why did he feel like he had lost something? Not just someone but some game.

Had he even been playing?

With that strange expression directed towards him , Levi deemed his very small yet personal search useless and suspended it altogether.

Something pricked at his eyes, his lips trembled and by god, did he want to call it a day. His legs were jelly, deadweight at the same time. His hands didn't feel like his. Still, he moved mechanically to nothing, one step at a time towards the door.

Suddenly aware of social graces, he shook his head and scolded himself once again for getting in the way of such an intimate moment.

He met Erwin outside and by the time Erwin had asked why he had taken so long, Levi had already found ways to compose himself. “Just had to check something on my phone.” It didn’t make much sense but at that moment, sense was the last thing on Levi’s mind.

"I'm going to have a long talk with Zeke about that contract."

"Do you need help?" Levi asked.

Erwin shook his head. "No, this is between me and Zeke. Focus on the alarm."

"I will… No, Hange and I will." Adding her name had only made the prospect of bouncing back from such an ordeal almost stomachable.

But it had worked for only just a few minutes. When Hange and Zeke had left the office, it backfired magnificently.

And all he needed was that one-sided exchange to bring him back to that point of utter desolation.

"Hange, I'll see you tomorrow?" Levi asked.

Hange didn’t respond. Notably, she had been walking faster towards the exit of the gym, only trailing behind Zeke.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Hange…" Before he knew it, he had followed her through the campus grounds. Before he even felt it, he had clutched a shaking hand.

'Levi, let me go, will you?" Hange didn’t seem at all angry. Hell, she had been smiling since even before their eyes locked. Her manner of speaking, her words, then that last expression before she turned her back on him, they all seemed to have a calming effect.

It was easier to let go of her hand, easier to watch silently as she and Zeke turned the corner towards the open parking lot.

But her final parting words burned into even the recesses of his mind. And those words stayed there, the whole train ride home, the whole trek back up to his small studio apartment.

For the first time, Levi went straight to sleep. Of course he would, it had been a long day, too many things happened and he was fucking tired.

But extreme exhaustion was never just exhaustion. Sometimes, he even forgot how much control emotions had over the physical.

Out of curiosity, he opened his alarm to make sense of that strange exhaustion. He noted the blur that came with his own bleary view.

Then the colors and contours settled. Then he noted a pale sky blue.

***

Levi had always been a stickler for cleanliness.

Hange's writings on the whiteboard was a nagging antithesis. They were a conglomerate of careless scribbles, some parts faint other parts dark. Hange never bothered to write over them, never bothered to write on the white board with the same pressure every time.

And she never even wrote in a straight line.

Wingsoffreedom123

Wingsoffreedom213

Wingsoffreedom231

Wingsoffreedom321

Wingsoffreedom312

Wingsoffreedom132

The lines only bent, fell over or climbed as she wrote them and they only acted as some sort of distraction especially when Levi was in a constant process of organizing and reorganizing both his thoughts and his actual belongings.

Yet somehow, Levi couldn't stop staring at the lines of used emails and the check marks next to them. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to erase it and write over it, despite the codes, the plans running through his mind, demanding to be let out.

Maybe he could ask her for permission, maybe scold her for not cleaning up.

At around ten that Tuesday morning, he called, only to receive a dial tone. And he listened to that dial tone for a few minutes longer, while staring at the messy white board on front of him.

Hange was an utter mess. He thought loudly to himself. Then he found himself a little more ticked to have a whiteboard with shitty scribbles on it.

The eraser was right under the board. Yet as easy as it would be to erase it, somehow he couldn’t.

He turned back to his computer, opened his workflow tracker and started a new project just for both of them. He added the resources, the codes and the latest build of that birthday present he had created just for her.

He opened a virtual drawing board on his tablet, drawing plans for new colors, plans to quantify emotions and plans to connect a phone to some desktop view dashboard.

He didn’t know what Hange would need, what Hange was envisioning or however way he could make sense of numbers or assign them into each emotion just yet.

If he just created a few formulas, suggested a few codes, Hange would give her feedback anyway. He booted his phone up and opened his chat with Hange.

11:00 AM

Hey, you’re going to the office today?

Lunch break passed without any hitches so Levi decided to stare at the whiteboard again just to annoy himself enough to want to message Hange again.

2:26 PM

Are you done with the whiteboard? I’m gonna erase what you wrote.

She didn’t reply.

He sent over those same questions, those same threats multiple times a day over the week and every time, the result had been the same.

No response.

As week turned into two weeks, then three, he realized he had never planned on erasing it in the first place. Somehow, he wanted that antithesis, that glaring reminder that it hadn’t just been his office space anymore.

Work and responsibilities had become some sort of a solace, a godsend in their own little way. With enough post release questions to answer, with enough data from the testing to make some sense of, Levi was constantly busy. With bugs constantly rearing their ugly heads, demanding to be solved, Levi had at least managed to pretend he wasn’t always thinking about her.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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danwhobrowses · 3 years

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WWE Wrestlemania 37 Day 2 - Review

And we are back! Wrestlemania hit hard with Day 1, good shit and big moments fitting of the show

So let's see if Day 2 can match up to it, lots of big matches on the card, we'll see how it goes.

See the Night 1 Review Here

Spoilers for Night 2 and References to Night 1 included, you have been Warned

Pre-Show Like the last Night, no matches on the Pre-Show, just drivel and promos. So the same criticisms really, Lawler saying 'Wrestlerainia' doesn't make it any better than when Cole said it, his attempts at jokes were awful even when they were his material. When they recapped Night 1 though they should've shown footage of Ford celebrating with Bianca rather than just say it - a Picture says a Thousand Words. Standard Promo Package lies apply too, 'Rhea Ripley has brutalized everyone she's come through' ...except Io Shirai and Raquel Gonzalez, similar went down for the second half of HOF because Great Khali is only there to pander to India - also what did the Mayor of Knox County ever do for WWE? Sonya also popped up again, strangely to talk about the Nigerian Drum Fight - which Booker T talked about the most, if I wanted to watch a bunch of old dudes talk over Sonya Deville I'd be drinking bleach. She also stuck for Sami vs KO, and barely talked in that too.

Also the promo they had about Kofimania was rough to watch, considering how it ended and how Kofi fared on Night 1, all this to promote a cheesy Cricket commercial about him not touching the ground...

The 24/7 title even got a continuation of ads, but it was more a 'to be concluded on Youtube' - honestly the belt has run its course, Truth has ran out of jokes and it's been reduced to an Old Spice ad crossover.

Main Card Starting once more with 'America the Beautiful', replacing the boob window with a bright yellow hat. It was fine, as a Brit 'America the Beautiful' does nothing for me.

They then did the same intro package as night 1 just with some different clips, skippable. And the shoddy camera switching is still there.

Hogan and Titus came out again this time in pirate outfits, there was noticeable boos in Hogan's bits with cheesy pirate puns. In the end the host concept was wasted on them. Reminder that names in Bold are those I predicted to win.

Randy Orton def. The Fiend [w/Alexa Bliss] (Pinfall via RKO) Orton opened night 2 in white tights and a fairy long-winded entrance, the melted Fiend then walked through a corridor of fire LEDs as CGI burned away into his original Fiend look...but Alexa's Firefly Funhouse music hit. Cutesy Bliss approached a giant Jack in a Box commentary act like just 'appeared'. The Fiend arose from the box in a combat vest, posed then dove right at Orton. Red lights cover the match throughout, Uranage and a neck snap started the match as the Fiend continued to do his spooky thing, it looks like he was gonna set up the punt but Randy rolls out of the ring. Randy hits the back body slam on the Announcer's Desk but it's no sold into the Mandible Claw, rope break and apron DDT from Orton only staggers the Fiend but rebounding his neck off the ropes grounds him momentarily. Orton tries to methodically beat down the Fiend but the monster hits back hard, a missed Senton and a senton follows some head kicks and another apron DDT, he sets up for an RKO but the Fiend gets the Mandible Claw (which commentary no sold even though he has won titles with that move), he sets up Sister Abigail but the ring posts pyro like Kane and before Fiend is Bliss with new makeup, dripping in black goo she extends her hand to the Fiend from the jack in the box, RKO and...3!? Post match Fiend and Alexa stare down, the electricity shorts out and both members disappear.

That's it? That's what we got? The Fiend was burned alive and survived but 1 RKO does it? The Fiend no sold so much in his career and one RKO felled him. The fuck man, this was as bad as the last time these two went at mania, you'd think like the brilliant Firefly Funhouse Match last year we'd get some course correction. But nope, Fiend's story is just being taken over by Alexa and this daft-ass black goo stuff, I don't get the motivation either. Fiend helped Alexa straddle Orton for a 3 count at Fastlane, talked all big for months about how the Fiend was going to obliterate Orton and it lasted about 8 minutes, the entrances lasted longer! Last year the Fiend was great with a cinematic match, but WWE have somehow managed to systematically destroy one of their most inventive characters time and time again, not a good start.

Backstage once again Bayley gets buried by the Hosts and this time Eric Bischoff as she tried to push Ding Dong Hello and got jealous of them talking up Bianca vs Sasha from last night.

WWE Women's Tag Championship - Shayna Baszler & Nia Jax (c) def. Natalya & Tamina (Ref Stoppage Submission by Baszler on Natalya via Kirufuda Clutch) Not a promising sign to follow the opener with this match, the challengers entered quickly with Natalya having a slightly altered attire. Jax and Baszler came in with red, black and gold. Natalya and Baszler start the match with some mat wrestling, Natalya almost gets the Sharpshooter so Shayna tags Nia in, Nia shoves Natalya and demands that Tamina - her old tag partner - be tagged in. Both trade headbutts, Tamina almost lifts Nia but fails, she tags in Natalya for the double back body drop and drops the blind tagged Shayna onto her partner. Natalya tries a Sharpshooter but is schoolboy'd for 2, Natalya retaliates with a German Suplex, whipping Shayna into a Clothesline, then launch pad into a superkick. As Shayna strikes back an advantage she stiffs Natalya in the mouth with a knee (legitimately, there was a picture of a welt before) Nia brawls with Tamina outside, hitting a powerslam outside of the ring. Another knee strike floors Natalya for 2 as Shayna works on the leg, kneebar and then an ankle stomp, Nia follows up with a Legdrop over the injured leg, another kneebar and then combos of swing/knee strike and irish whip/powerslam. Nia runs into the turnbuckle as Natalya floors Nia with multiple lariat attempts, Nia though hits back with a Chokeslam/Powerbomb thing they called a Spinebuster but the pin is broken by Tamina. Tamina gets the hot tag against Shayna, Baszler tries to weaken the leg, then the Kirufuda clutch but Tamina powers into a Samoan Drop. She goes up for a Superfly Splash but Shayna kicks her, Nia looks to do an Avalanche Samoan Drop but Natalya pulls Tamina away, she lariats Baszler but Nia hits the crossbody on both opponents for 2, favouring the knee after. Talking trash to Tamina she gets hit with a slam, Nia's repositioning couldn't be missed by the wide shot as Tamina goes for the Superfly Splash, but nobody home. Natalya's tagged and she goes for Baszler in the corner, Baszler counters and blind tags as Nia lifts Natalya up, but she wriggles out, floors Baszler again and sets the Sharpshooter on the now not legal Nia. Baszler cinches in the Kirufuda clutch and the match is over.

The fact that this was more eventful than the opener speaks volumes. It was a match, I don't think there's many people who feel like Nia and Shayna deserve this spot. Shayna was great in NXT but she's not doing herself any favours stiffing her opponents, Nia's rubbing off in a bad way. I had the challengers to win because I'm bored of them still being champions - only briefly giving it to Asuka and Charlotte so Charlotte can add that to her list - they should've either dropped to NXT or let the Riott Squad win, there was nothing in this match to invest in.

Rey Mysterio is used to promote 2K22. A surprise since we thought WWE and 2K's partnership was done, I am a huge fan of Rey so it was nice to see, much nicer if he was actually on Wrestlemania and getting a push...

Kevin Owens def. Sami Zayn [w/Logan Paul] (Pinfall via Stunner) JBL is the guest commentator for this...for some reason. Sami struts to the ring in dark green trying to pull off a Che Guevara look, a mini tantrum at the ramp before heading to the ring and grabbing the mic to introduce Logan Paul, who walks to the ring as Sami dances super embarrassingly in the ring. Owens then charges into the ring with vigor to get the crowd amped up. The bell rings, Sami tries the Helluva Kick and gets hit with a Pop-Up Powerbomb. KO punishes Sami in the start, dropping Sami gut-first on the ropes, corner clothesline and Cannonball as the camera awkwardly keeps cutting to Logan Paul. Sami gets a suplex on the apron to get back some momentum as he demands for Owens to be counted out, Owens rolls in at 8 but Sami continues to club at KO's head. Cole calls a Michinoku Driver a Blue Thunder Bomb but this time gets called out on it, pinfall is 2 and Sami gets into the ref's face. Attempted Superplex leads to a fistfight in the corner, Owens headbutts him off and Frog Splashes for 2, tries the Pop-Up powerbomb, Sami leapfrogs, Sami tries the Michinoku Driver but Owens reverses it into a meaty Pumphandle Neckbreaker for 2. He goes for the Package Piledriver but Sami hits the corner exploder, tries for the Helluva Kick but misses, KO tries the Stunner but it's reversed into a Blue Thunder Bomb for 2 as well. Two Exploders and a Brainbuster for 2 frustrates Sami further, brawling in the corner, he tries for a Superplex but gets hit with an Avalanche twisting Fisherman's Suplex. KO hits Sami with some corner clotheslines but as he runs to bounce off the other corner he runs into a Helluva Kick, Sami catching his collapsed friend as he sets it up again, 2 Superkicks from Owens and a Stunner finishes Sami off as Logan Paul applauds. Post-Match Logan checks on Sami and congratulates Owens, which Sami takes umbrage with. Logan shoves Sami as he storms off, Logan holds KO's arm in the air to boos, cheers start to rumble as Paul is hit with a stunner to a pop.

KO and Sami rarely disappoints, I don't think they really got to get out of second gear but it was still a good match. The Logan Paul stuff though was stupid and unnecessary, sure we got him to eat a Stunner but the ends don't justify the means. Also why was JBL there?

Backstage Riddle scooters across to Great Khali, stoner comedy doesn't land as Khali no sells it, RVD shows up to wish Riddle luck. Segment was meh.

US Championship - Sheamus def. Riddle (c) (Pinfall via Brogue Kick TITLE CHANGE!) Sheamus arrives blinding white but no special gear, Riddle scooters down in an Evil Knievel jacket, hologram doves with pirate hats and eyepatches adding to the cheese. Sheamus uses his power to start, but Riddle comes back with some chops, Sheamus hits back in each of his attempts; knee to the gut, then driving Riddle's sleeper in the corner, then a reversal swinging slam. Irish Curse gets 2, Riddle tries a Tarantula Armbreaker but Sheamus hits his Beats of Bodhran, he goes up high but Riddle reverses with a Spanish Fly Belly to Belly on the top turnbuckle. Riddle rallies with strikes, hits a Pele Kick and a Senton, to slight Goldberg Riddle hits the Jackhammer on the second time of trying but only gets 2. He tries the Bro Derek but Sheamus rolls back, Riddle kicks Sheamus away but in his slingshot lands into a Brogue Kick, 1, 2, No. Alabama Slam, 1, 2, No. He tries a White Noise on the Apron but gets pushed into the Ring Post and then German's on the Apron. An Apron PK and Moonsault keeps Sheamus down enough for Riddle to hit the Twisting Moonsault, he locks in the Reverse armbar but it's reversed into a deadlift powerbomb, Riddle then latches the sleeper for the rope break. Sheamus tries again for a Top Rope White Noise, Riddle tries to Sunset Bomb but fails, Riddle tries the Spanish Fly Belly to belly again but Sheamus grabs him. A stumble means that the two hop off the Turnbuckle for a normal White Noise, Sheamus goes up with a Knee Drop but it only hits 2. Sheamus calls for the Brogue, gets rolled up but catches the Knee strike, Riddle dodges the lariat, goes for a Springboard Moonsault but lands into the Brogue, 1, 2, 3. Post match Riddle is bleeding from the mouth, he angrily stares at the gleeful Sheamus who leaves with the title.

A good title match and much deserved from Sheamus, who has delivered in many matches on the later stages of of the Wrestlemania year, shame he was on the wrong brand to complete the set, he only needs the IC title to win everything. Riddle doesn't do it for me in this gimmick (which as I gather is mostly himself stoned) but credit where it's due, he put a good performance and that was a strong finish.

An odd package followed where Triple H handed Bad Bunny a golden briefcase with a skull microphone, which he opened atop his truck. The briefcase says Tour 2022 to promote his future tour.

Nigerian Drum Fight for the IC Title - Apollo Crews def. Big E (c) (Pinfall via Dabba Kato Chokeslam TITLE CHANGE!) The promo really hurt my ears to hear Apollo's accent devolve into this foreign heel gimmick. Wale though performs to enter Big E, more questionable camera cuts to E and the Fireworks. E's jacket represented Feeding Tampa Bay as a nice nod to the food bank, Apollo came out in Nigerian colors with his scarf and Spear. Commentary's line saying 'this isn't about percussion' falls kinda flat when there's drums around the ring.

Both men roll out to grab Kendo sticks, trading blows which E gets the power advantage over. E grabs the giant cymbal but Apollo knees it away, hits E with some more Kendo Shots back into the ring. You can hear the WAFT of Apollo's missed shot as E knocks him away and then does the out-of-ring spear. E sets up the lower steps near the apron but gets hit with a DVD on the apron, pinfall gets 2. Crews grabs the top half of the steps, lays E on the one he sets up and throws the other steps at it, but E rolls away just in time. On the apron Apollo hits a big boot, but on the second attempt falls into an Uranage onto the flat steps (which Cole called an Uranage Suplex for some reason...), after some trash talking E gets a table set up in the ring near a corner. Apollo kicks back and flurries E with a Kendo Stick, he rolls E onto the table to go for the frog splash, but E rolls away sending Apollo crashing through the table. E hits the Big Ending, but Dabba Kato/Babatunde in a military jacket breaks the pin, a sorta Samoan Spike and a Chokeslam leads to him dragging Apollo onto E for the win. Apollo gets a lot of unnecessary pyro and shakes his new comrade's hand.

Bit short that, the gimmick didn't really come into play. I mean, I'm glad Apollo gets a chance to hold another title and E can look towards the top of the card but I don't think this was really the way to do it. It didn't need to be a 'Nigerian Drum Fight', could've just been a No DQ, Dabba Kato gets his third repackaging since Greatest Royal Rumble probably as Apollo's 'General' which is kinda no different to what AJ and Omos are doing just with more foreign heel-isms. But yeah, bit disappointing on the means of it but the outcome was right, just...kinda stop faking a thick accent it's getting you nowhere acting like you're on the set of Black Panther.

Again we look back at Night 1, this time with minor clips of Ford congratulating his wife, but should've been a segment on its own rather than a flash-through recap. Stone Cold Mania 38 Texas promo and the HOF promo they did on this Pre-Show happens again which is unnecessary but the hologram of a ghost ship was cool, the HOFers come out and Kane gets the entrance, he does his pyro and that's it - that's how you do it, Hogan.

Raw Women's Championship - Rhea Ripley def. Asuka (c) (Pinfall via Riptide TITLE CHANGE!) THIS IS MY BRUTALITY! performed live as Rhea wastes no time coming out, leather biker outfit this time, no Vegeta costume. Silly camera cuts to Rhea and the Singer AGAIN though, stop it WWE it's distracting. Asuka dances down the ring in a bit of a Jason mask, but the camera keeps cutting to Rhea which is off-putting. Also commentary on 'she has never seen Rhea Ripley up close and personal', they were in a tag match together a week and a half ago and in Survivor Series 2019 she faced her in Team NXT as part of Team RAW, seriously WWE...

Asuka starts hot with her athleticism, dropkicks, rebounds and rollups met with more shoddy camera cuts, Rhea leaves the ring to take a moment as Asuka taunts her, she baits Asuka out of the ring as she rolls in but her leg is caught, pop-up knee strike returns Rhea to the ring but she misses the hip attack, gifting Rhea the slamming facebuster for 2. Rhea wears the champion down and taunts her with leg scissors and hits a couple of clotheslines, Asuka reverses the third into an ankle lock but Rhea rolls into a Release German Suplex. Rhea grinds away at Asuka's back and sets up for a super German but Asuka elbows her away and lands the Missile Dropkick, Release German, Hip Attack, a strike combo, another Hip Attack but it only gets 2. Asuka goes up top but is dropkicked to the outside, Asuka tries a PK on the apron but is caught into an Electric Chair position and dropped chin-first onto the apron. Trying to roll Asuka back into the ring, the champion returns to hit a DDT from the apron to the outside, after breaking the count Asuka only gets 2, stomps at Rhea but her running knee gets caught, Rhea stomps at Asuka and sets up the Texas Cloverleaf, Asuka rolls out and into the Armbar but Rhea swings Asuka into the bottom turnbuckle. Deadlift suplex back into the ring for 2, Asuka reverses a waistlock into two armbar variations and then an Asuka Lock, Rhea rolls back for 2 and the hold to break but gets gutted with kicks to the chest, Rhea demands more so Asuka runs to the ropes, Rhea catches her, Riptide, 3!

That finish came out of nowhere, which was not a good thing. We were having quite an enjoyable match which ended around the 15 minute mark, it wasn't short but the narrative wasn't quite there yet. I'm happy for Rhea, who I predicted to win but like Sasha/Bianca it came with the heavy heart. Like Sasha, Asuka has often been slighted especially at Wrestlemania, she deserves her moment too, especially Asuka who carried the Women for most of the Empty Arena era.

WWE recapped the opener which was a bad idea, Hogan and Titus thanked all the viewers at home and the fans but were interrupted by Bayley who demanded and got her pyro, then out came the Bella Twins. Bayley got a good zing by calling them Elmo but then Nikki slapped the mic away from her when she says 'John Cena isn't here tonight', Bellas said 'Ding Dong, Goodbye' and beat down Bayley. This was shite really, Bayley had been buried across 2 nights and her 'comeuppance' is the Bella Twins, not the woman beginning with B I was hoping for, and the John Cena comment was heavily forced, fans know they broke up ages ago Nikki has a kid with her husband who is not John Cena, fans aren't stupid WWE.

WWE then promoted 'Wrestlemania Backlash' for May 16th, a whole month away. They say it'll be a whole new season for WWE so I'm wondering if it's just a storyline reset...y'know how Wrestlemania is supposed to be, slapping Wrestlemania on other show names doesn't make it Wrestlemania-tier guys.

Universal Championship - Roman Reigns (c) [w/Paul Heyman & Jey Uso] def. Daniel Bryan and Edge (Pinfall on Edge and Bryan via Con-Chair-To) To the Main Event, one of the few storylines in Mania's card that was consistently good in build. Bryan comes out first, camera angles flashing during the YES! chants. Huge pops and smoke rage for Metalingus and Edge enters in white and Red (bookending with Orton), fireworks camera shots though. For once, Roman Reigns enters the Main Event without a chorus of deafening boos, but he takes his time to come out, in his red wreath flanked by Jey Uso and Heyman, cameras cutting to each opponent's faces a bit too much, especially to Bryan. Bad call not to bring in Justin Roberts to announce Edge either. Roman makes sure to hoist the belt while facing both his opponents before the bell.

Reigns starts by suckering Bryan and then going after Edge. He throws Bryan out of the ring where Jey superkicks him and sends him into the steps thanks to Triple Threat rules. Edge eats a superkick from Uso too when he's thrown out as Roman cleans up the announcer's table, as Edge is grabbed by Uso, Reigns is hit by Bryan's suicide dive but eats an Uso superkick, this gives Edge time to throw Uso into the steps, pinballing Reigns against the barricade and apron until bouncing off of the ring post. Edge then sets his sights on Uso, hitting a DDT on the steps to take him out of the equation, medical team swarm Uso as Heyman halfheartedly looks concerned. Edge chases Heyman away and enters the ring with Bryan - a moment which would've been sold better if the camera didn't cut to a close up of Roman alive and well on the outside. Bryan gets the Yes Kicks in the corner but his Super Rana is reversed into a sunset flip, Edge-o-matic but it's only 2. Roman comes back on the apron both men attempting to suplex the other, Bryan slides under Roman and cuts Roman's legs from under him - jawbreaking Edge on the ropes - he hits the Missile Dropkick on Edge, kips up and hits the uppercut, after dodging the lariat he tries to suicide dive Roman but he's caught by the champion and hit with a belly to belly suplex. Edge brings Roman to the ring but gets hit with a clothesline, Roman sets up the Superman Punch but Edge turns it into an Edgecution. He sets up the Spear but Roman knocks him down, Roman sets the Spear but it is reversed in a Sunset Flip, both men collide with spears to take each other out. During a wide shot Bryan goes up top, he lands a diving headbutt on Edge, then on Roman, he pins Roman but only gets 2. Yes Kicks to both men, Roman dodges one and pushes him towards Edge, but Bryan ducks the Lariat and hits the Buisaku Knee, Roman tries the Superman Punch but is kicked in the gut, Buzzsaw Kick! 1, 2, No! Bryan stomps on Roman's head and sets up the Yes Lock, but Edge breaks the hold, so Bryan puts Edge in the Yes Lock and Roman breaks the hold, clubbing at Bryan and powerbombing him onto Edge. After dumping Bryan, Roman pauses before setting up half the steps near the Announcer's Table, he's incited by the 'Roman Sucks' chant and powerbombs Bryan through the Announcer's table, but is then blindsided with a Spear! Edge goes to bring in a chair but Roman keeps his foot on it, he pulls the chair away and tries the Guillotine but Edge locks in the Crossface, as Roman powers out Edge grabs a part of the chair leg that fell off and uses that in his Crossface - a humorous face from Reigns as I pause the vid as well XD - he's about to tap but Bryan grabs the hand, and locks in the Yes Lock! Annoyed that his win is stolen, Edge demands he break the hold, but Bryan refuses, leading to a headbutt fight and Bryan pounding at Edge. Bryan then stomps at Edge's head and looks for the Buisaku Knee, but gets hit by a Spear! Roman tries a Spear but Edge hits one of his own! 1, 2, Bryan pulls the ref out of the ring. Furious, Edge introduces more chairs, hitting Bryan and Edge one after the other. He sets up Con-Chair-To to both men, hits it on Bryan but Jey Uso returns to attack, eats a Spear and a load of Chair Shots, Reigns hits the spear on Edge, hits the Con-Chair-To, drags Edge over Bryan and pins both for the win.

The show closes with pyro and Fireworks as Roman talks trash on his opponents and holds the title aloft, ending Wrestlemania 37.

It was a very good back and forth match, Roman of course relying heavily on Jey's interferences and the animosity between Edge and Bryan to come out on top. Keeping the Spear and the Con-Chair-To for last was the right move and the latter was definitely impactful enough to ensure that Bryan could sleep for a few minutes, especially with his and Edge's history of neck injuries. I bet on Roman because of his past record, how after finally turning heel he gets the right heat and because in Triple Threats involving a Heel Champion and 2 Faces, you either bet on the third man or the heel champion, since the story was that Roman could lose without being pinned I chose the latter, the heel often finds the escape. All three men had great chemistry together and I hope for more, SD's world title scene having an absolute slew of competitors waiting to challenge the head of the table.

Conclusion Overall another good night of wrestling...just not better. There were some super baffling and poor moments in the first half of the show and 3 title changes in a row (as well as 2 live performances in a row) was probably not the best card layout Night 2 could've done. Overall it was still a good show though and as a whole Wrestlemania 37 was a success, if not without its glaring flaws. But it goes to show that a 2-Day Wrestlemania continues to flourish as a new season of WWE kicks off.

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backtothestart02bts · 4 years

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He Kisses Me When - Dr. 6-10 | westallen fanfiction

More drabbles. :)

...

6. When I am relaxing in the bath

An audible sigh escapes me as I slowly sink into the warm bath water, my hair up in a bun and my body aching from the long day of running around the city in pursuit of evidence for a serial killer that caught my interest. My Dad and Barry don’t know about it. Only Cisco does, and mum’s the word. I just have to hope he won’t tell Caitlin, because she – ironically – can’t tolerate secrets now and will go straight to Barry (he’ll take to her better), who will then try to process how to respond to the situation.

I didn’t lie to him this time, so he can’t be mad about that. (I feel guilty every time I have to do that when I believe so strongly in a story that if false promises need to be made to keep my husband from preventing me from following through on them, so be it. I’m glad I didn’t have to do that this time though.) This time I was simply very crafty and kept all knowledge of what I was doing from both of the very protective men in my life.

My dad will naturally walk in on my husband trying to decide how to react and give his very strong opinion, which will convince my husband to have that same opinion and to carry out his wishes, which he will no doubt do, albeit much nicer than my dad would have done.

In the end I’m mad, so I’m hoping Cisco is a good secret-keeper and that at least my dad doesn’t know. Barry I can calm with kisses and love declarations and sex. Dad is a little harder.

Throwing all that to the wayside, I let my thoughts slip away and close my eyes as the water swallows me whole save for my head pressed against the far side and my toes peeking out by the faucet.

I’m so content I don’t hear or feel the wind from the door opening and closing, but I hear his voice and know I’m in trouble.

“Joe told me what you were digging up today.”

My eyes flash open, and I turn to look at him, I can explain on the tip of my tongue.

“Are you mad?” I ask instead, nibbling on my bottom lip.

He shakes his head and crosses the room to me.

“You’re not?” My brows fuse together.

He chuckles. “No. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you.”

I grin as he leans down to kiss me and then gasp as he climbs into the bathtub fully clothed save for his shoes, socks, and jacket.

“Barry! What are you-” I squeal, but he only laughs and settles himself on the other end, having to bend his knees up considerably so he can fit the full length. I laugh too then because he just looks so uncomfortable. “Barry,” I coo, shaking my head.

“This idea was better in my head,” he admits.

So, so in love with him, I get on my knees and crawl over to him, climbing into his laps and well aware of how his eyes keep drifting down to my breasts.

“Let me make you comfortable,” I say, and this time I’m the one to kiss him.

7. When I am searching for something I lost

I can’t find them anywhere. They’re pretty jewels hanging from a pearl strand that go perfectly with my dress, and I can’t find them anywhere!

Barry’s trying to help. I know he is. But he doesn’t know how I organize my make-up or my clothes. I’m supposed to expect him to know where my jewelry is?

No, I don’t think so.

Still, as I pace back and forth throughout our bedroom and bathroom, I can’t help but be aware of him standing in the middle of the bedroom, not moving to avoid me running into him, and running his hand through his hair, gripping his locks because he doesn’t know what to do to help me and he’s afraid to do nothing.

“Iris…”

“Yeah, Barry?” I ask, still digging through drawers of jewelry and make-up.

And then it must occur to him what he can do, because he takes one step, halts me with his hands on my arms and kisses me before I can stop him, his lips pressed to mine in a surprisingly sensuous kiss.

Something occurs to me, and I break away.

“What? What?” His eyes are wide.

“My coat pocket.” I grin wide and instantly take off for the stairs.

He follows me quickly and watches as I reach the door, then the coat hangers, then my dress coat and reach inside.

“No,” he says in disbelief.

My smile spreads somehow further as I turn to dangle the earrings before him.

“Guess you’re my lucky charm, Allen,” I say, and I know I’ve boosted his ego, but I don’t care.

Barry Allen is my everything.

8. When I am mad

I’m boiling, absolutely infuriated. Nothing could make me madder in this instant, but Wally – who has just woken up from his night over on the couch – somehow achieves that feat by asking what the big deal is.

“Oh, no,” Barry says as I turn to face my brother, my fingers curled into fists at my side so I don’t start clawing his eyes out with my fingernails.

“What’s the big deal?”

“Sorry for what?” Wally asks aloud, and I know Barry has just mouthed to his brother-in-law to apologize. “So your editor didn’t like your story. Write another one.”

I stomp toward him, unable to decide which infuriates me more, him not realizing what the big deal is or him not feeling bad about the fact that he’s made me so mad.

I finally see him worrying for his own safety at least as I get closer because he’s backing up and has himself pinned to the wall before I’m inches away pointing my finger at him.

“The ‘big deal’ is that this story will change lives. The ‘big deal’ is that I risked my life getting the information to write this story-”

“Wait, what?” His eyes widen and Barry’s face falls into his palm.

I probably shouldn’t have informed my little brother about that part. Oops.

“The big deal is-”

“Uh-uh, you’re not getting out of it that easily. Your life? What happened, Iris?” He’s suddenly soft with me, and part of me loves it, but the part of me that’s still mad at him doesn’t. How dare he be concerned when he could’ve cared less about the story two seconds ago!

“Iris?” Barry tries, and for some god forsaken reason I turn around and address him.

“What?” I demand, though he hardly deserves it.

He walks up to me, sets his hands on my shoulders, and looks me in the eye.

“If anyone can change that man’s mind, it’s you.” He lowers his head to kiss me, and I reciprocate – much to Wally’s annoyance. “I love you.”

I melt. Completely melt into his embrace.

“I love you, too.”

“Ugh. Get a room, you two,” Wally says, and actually leaves the loft. I don’t care. He’ll be back later for pizza and telling me how great of a writer and big sister I am – if history has told me anything.

Right now my husband is kissing me, and there’s not much more to care about than that.

9. When I talk too much (to shut me up)

I’m unaware – completely – that I’m rambling almost as fast as my husband can when he’s excited. I think said husband is listening intently as I rail on about something that happened at work, something stupid, something that was both good and bad and I can’t stop talking about.

“And so then-” I stop talking to laugh. “I can’t believe it. Can you believe that, Barry?” I smack his chest lightly. He winces, but not because it hurt.

“He – they – it actually, oh my God.”

He forces a smile. “Mhmm.”

“Barry, are you listening?” I frown.

He nods. “Yep.” So I continue again.

It’s not until several minutes later when honestly I’ve forgotten what I was talking about before I started repeating myself and laughing at what I remembered but didn’t say aloud and how Barry has been awfully quiet, and I think to myself have I been talking this whole time???

“Barry, what was I talking about?” I ask, the fact that he was falling asleep beyond me and not worth discussing because it hasn’t really hit me yet.

“Um…”

“Oh, nevermind, I remember.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He sits up quickly and leans in with a rush.

“What- Mmm,” comes my muffled moan, and I think to myself, maybe kissing is better than talking right now.

10. When I am scared

I’m hiding under the desk in my office. There’s been a citywide alert for a new meta that can control electricity. Several people have been electrocuted and now the whole city’s power is out, gathered up in this meta’s body.

Barry’s running around saving people. Cisco and Caitlin are busy helping him out from STAR Labs, where I should be. Barry and my dad told me to stay put. They don’t want me to be the next person electrocuted. For some reason I listen to them, since I have no protective gear and STAR Labs isn’t exactly close.

But because I’m not helping out, all I can think about is how scared I am. Not just for me, but for the whole of Central City, for Barry, because he’s my Barry, and I won’t feel safe until he’s in front of me again, warm and happy and safe himself, even if the city-wide power outage is still in place.

The lights turn on, and my phone rings. My cell. I see who it is and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Barry?” Hope and tears are in my voice, and in a flurry he’s there before me, his grin faltering for a moment when he can’t tell if I’m okay. “Barry.” Relief spills off my tongue, and I nearly crumble until he’s there catching me and holding me close.

“I’m okay, Iris. Everything’s all right.”

He’s stroking my hair tenderly, holding me up, and I’m telling myself to believe what I’m saying.

“I know…I know…”

Oh, his chest is so solid, his arms so strong, his words a sweet lullaby against my skin.

“Iris…” he urges softly, and I lift my head, tears welling in my eyes.

“You came back to me,” I say, though he always does. I shouldn’t doubt it by this point.

He nods, smiles shakily, cups my face in his hands and kisses me, warm and soft.

“Always,” he whispers when we part, and suddenly, I’m not scared anymore.

#westallen fanfiction #he kisses me when

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verus-veritas · 5 years

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Male Transformation Blog: “Step By Step”

A longer story by “Bill Rowan”. A slow start, but there’s lots of details and pretty sweet love story. Made some changes to the pronouns to suit my taste, but all credits still go to the original writer! /Verus

This is Brad in a picture he posted when he was running for senior class president. He is the hottest and most popular jock in school and I’m absolutely in love with him or should I say I am absolutely in love with his body and wish it were mine? Unfortunately one person can’t become another, no matter how much a person wants that to happen. Ah but I look at Brad and all I can do is wish so hard… so hard I had that body.

One day I am walking down the hall and not really looking out where I am going when I bump into Brad. My heart nearly stops when my eyes look upon that perfect model of young maleness and all I can do is hope that he doesn’t notice how bothered I am getting.

“So…so…sorry Brad.” I manage to stutter out, just too awed to say anything else.

“Watch where you’re going next time dweeb.” Glaring at me, he walks away laughing with his friends. I guess I will be the butt of his clique’s jokes for the next thousand years or so.

Leonard helps me to my feet. He and Brad used to be a couple, and according to everyone at school they were the perfect couple until douchebag Brad decided to cheat on him with one of the quarterbacks. He didn’t deserve that as he is one of the nicest people I have met. He will talk to me pleasantly instead of making fun of me.

“Are you alright, man?” His voice has a genuine ring of concern in it and oh how I wish he was in love with me instead of Brad. I guess that is one more reason I am so envious of Brad and want to be him. I would never hurt Leonard’s feelings or break his heart.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” I can feel my face becoming hot with embarrassment. I must be sixteen shades of red and I keep my eyes focused on the floor for fear that he will see the longing in my eyes. If only you were mine…

“You know Sam that you are so much nicer than Brad. You really shouldn’t envy him so much.” What? How could he possibly know how I feel about Brad? He laughs.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. In fact, maybe we can do something about that desire you have. Come over to my house later, say around seven. See you then.” Did he just invite me to his house? Suddenly I’m walking on air, my day having just brightened by infinite degrees just from him asking me to his house. Wait… is he playing some sort of joke on me? Why would someone like Leonard who could have any guy he wanted easily, ask a nobody like me to his house?

The rest of the day drags as I can’t wait to go to his house, even if he is just playing a joke on me. But somehow I can’t see him as the type of person to be that cruel. I don’t think Brad will ever know just how much he lost when he broke that handsome and sweet boy’s heart.

Seven comes and I am standing at his doorstep. His house is a very old Victorian style mini-mansion. At Halloween it is the creepiest house on the street but today in fading sun of fall it is quite magnificent and not scary at all. I ring the doorbell. When the door opens Leonard is standing there smiling at me.

“Come in, Sam. My parents have gone out for the evening so we have the house to ourselves.” He ushers me inside and I lose my breath as I behold the grandeur.

“Thanks Leonard. You have a beautiful home.” How dorky does that sound?

He laughs and his face lights up with a most handsome smile.

“Please call me Leon. Leonard is just so strange sounding all the time, especially from a friend like you.” He considers me his friend? Be still my beating heart!

“Come on, man. Let’s go up to my room. I have a surprise for you.” Can this day get any better? I follow him up the stairs until we come to a door at the end of the hall. This must be his room. Dummy… of course it’s his room. Duh. He takes my hand and leads me to the biggest bed I have ever seen. “Sit.”

Me sit on his bed? My heart starts to race as he sits next to me. How can he not know I am in love with him? Maybe he does and he is just ignoring it so he won’t hurt my feelings. He would never hurt my feelings. We chat for a while until the clock in the hall strikes ten. Where has the time gone?

“Would you like something to drink? Of course you would.” He hands me a big glass of what looks like water but has a sweet taste as I eagerly gulp it down my parched throat. I guess all that talking must have dried it out. He goes over to a table and picks something up then comes back to me, handing me a black vest.

“This used to be Brad’s. Want to try it on?” Try Brad’s vest on? As kinky as that sounds I actually am quite eager to wear something so personal to my idol. I take my own shirt off, exposing my pitiful excuse of a chest, and pull the vest over my head. It is way too big for my scrawny torso and I am absolutely swimming in fabric. A strange twinge goes through my body and my little Sammy (yes, even that is little) feels very odd. Just as quickly though everything returns to normal and Leon is helping me out of Brad’s vest and on with my own shirt. He hands me the vest, now neatly folded and in a bag.

“Here take this with you.” He is giving me Brad’s vest? Why?

We walk back downstairs and he kisses me sweetly on the cheek as he sees me out the door. “See you tomorrow in school Sam. Pleasant dreams.”

I’m flabbergasted from the kiss and can barely squeak out “Thanks... Leon. Have a good night.” Can I sound any dorkier? He laughs again and closes the door as I start my way home. Brad you’re such an idiot for letting that guy get away from you.

I get home and immediately rush to my room, saying goodnight to my parents so I can check out my treasure. Brad’s vest has now become my most prized possession, not just because it is something personal of Brad’s, but because Leon gave it to me. This is a night I will long remember.

I undress and go to bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. Strange dreams haunt my sleep but when I wake in the morning I can’t remember any of them. It’s time to get ready for school.

I head into the bathroom to start my morning ritual: pee, brush my teeth and rinse, take a shower, and get dressed. I whip little Sammy out but something is very odd this morning. I can’t feel my hands touching my penis. Instead I am feeling very aroused as though I am stroking myself into a frenzy yet Sammy is as flaccid as he can possibly be. The feeling dissipates and I start to pee but I still can’t feel my hands on my Sammy. Is there something wrong with my dick? I start to brush my teeth and as I do so I begin to experience warmth on my body like warm water running down my body. What is happening this morning? I finish up, get dressed, and head downstairs to eat breakfast. My mom pours the oatmeal into the bowl but I’m not feeling all that hungry for some reason. In fact my stomach would probably wretch if I tried eating so I just grab my gear and head to school.

The halls are amazingly quiet this morning. Usually Brad and his buddies are holding court by their lockers before class but not today. I start to head to homeroom when Leon comes running up.

“Good morning, man. How are you feeling today?”

“Hi Leon. Okay I guess.”

“Rumor has it that Brad is out sick, something about a touch of the flu. You should have a nice day without Brad here. See you in class.” That was odd. Why would he take the time to tell me Brad wasn’t feeling well? I nearly fall as I enter the classroom. I can’t sense myself walking. Rather my legs seem like they are stretched out under some sort of covering. My body is doing very strange things today. I make it over to my chair but I still can’t tell what my legs are doing unless I look directly at them. I can tell I am sitting in the chair but I sure feel like I am lying down instead.

The day goes by somewhat normally, albeit without the usual bullying from Brad and company. Normal that is until lunchtime comes. I’ve gotten somewhat used to not feeling anything from the waist down and I can compensate for that when I walk or sit but now my torso is beginning to go numb. Well, not exactly numb but what I am feeling is beyond anything possible. I rush to the bathroom as fast as I can possibly go under the circumstances. Fortunately no one is in there and I lock the stall as I enter in. I lift up my shirt to see if there is something wrong with my stomach. Nope. Same old skinny stomach, except I am feeling tightness like rock hard abs.

I sit on the toilet to relax, hoping this sensation will pass. Instead I begin to moan. My dick is being stroked into orgasm by invisible hands and with no sign of stirring showing. Suddenly I can feel a blissful release as I spew load after load. Except when I look down I am perfectly dry, no sign of any jerk off session anywhere. Still my mind is coming off a high I have never had before in my life.

I hurry out of the bathroom and to the nurse’s office, telling her I am not feeling well and need to go home. My afternoon is mostly study halls and gym so she OKs the permission slip and I head home as quickly as I can. Fortunately no one is home at my house so I drop my books and rush upstairs to my room.

My clothes are snug against my body yet when I look down they are just as baggy as they ever are. I strip but I still feel like I am wearing very form fitting attire. Whatever shirt I sense must be so tight that it shows off the two mounds of meat on my chest… except I have no upper body definition at all! I cannot feel my own body even as I run my hands up and down my torso. From the neck down I am numb as though I have been quick frozen. My brain however is telling me a different story. It is sending impulses to nerves in a very well developed body, the body of an athlete and as I stare at myself in the mirror I get a flashing image of a body I know all too well. Just for a moment I could swear I am looking at Brad!

The doorbell rings. I can’t answer naked so I go to the window and look down. Leon is standing at my door. Has school let out already? I holler down to him to come on in and up to my room. I better find my robe fast before…

*Leon walks in the door and I am still naked.*

“Don’t worry Sam. You don’t need to be embarrassed. This will all be over soon.” Huh? What will be over soon?

He locks the bedroom door and leads me to my bed. This situation does not seem to surprise him at all, almost as if he was expecting to find me this way.

“Lay down Sam. I don’t want you to fall down when the last wave hits.” What is he going on about?

“Last wave of what?”

“-I told you yesterday that I had a surprise for you. Brad’s vest was only the beginning, a catalyst so to speak. You want to be him so very badly and I want revenge for his fling with that quarterback. We both win. In a few minutes you will completely possess Brad. You will be Brad, have his body, his knowledge, and all of his skills. But you will also have your own compassion mixed in so as Brad you will not be the jerk he is now. No one will be the wiser. I know how much you love me as well. We can be together, the perfect couple you and I. People will just think that he and I reconciled. Unfortunately when you possess Brad your body will be soulless and will die as though from a heart attack. Brad’s soul will be trapped in his own body, unable to do anything other than observe life through your eyes. Now close your eyes and sleep.”

This is all very shocking. How can someone possess another person’s body? I can’t worry about that now. I am just so sleepy. I can’t keep my eyes open. I….

“Brad! Brad wake up!” Huh? Whose voice is that? I am very disoriented and groggy. I open my eyes, only to find I am not in my own room. I turn my head towards the voice and I see Leon smiling at me. I smile back. I raise myself up so I am sitting in bed, Leon helping to support me. I feel so much heavier yet I feel an energy I have never known before. He swings my legs over the edge of the bed and helps me to stand. I am taller than him now, much taller! He guides me to a mirror where I can only gaze in amazement. The body I have longed to have for so long stares back at me. I am Brad. Leon tenderly kisses me on the lips.

“Welcome home, lover.”

#possession #bully #love #jock #permanent #mypost

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natasha-cole · 5 years

Text

Worlds Collide Chapter 28

Summary: Reader and Billy take some time to enjoy their new engagement privately.

Word Count: 1821

Warnings: just fluffiness

Notes: Just a short little chapter to follow up on that proposal.

Masterlist

It took you a few minutes to comprehend the fact that Billy had actually accepted your proposal. He hadn’t said no, he wasn’t emasculated because you had been the one to ask, and he wasn’t running away from you just yet.

Instead, he was watching you adoringly, seemingly amused by your state of shock now that his has worn off in the aftermath of your sudden question.

Honestly, you didn’t really know how to react because you didn’t even plan any of that out. It had all been so spur of the moment, you just acting on a feeling without having thought through it first.

“Did you get me a ring at least?” He asked, trying to make light of the situation when he realized you were speechless.

“Uh, no…”

You felt your face heat up, embarrassed that you just acted in the moment without really planning things. He deserved better than this, but he had still said yes.

“I guess I’ll let it slide,” he grinned.

“Did you- did you really just say yes?” You asked finally.

“I did. Please don’t tell me that you were just joking when you asked, because I’m going to be really embarrassed if that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t a joke,” you assured him. “I just- asked without really thinking about it… I thought for sure you’d laugh at me.”

“So, you don’t want to marry me?” He asked.

He looked almost hurt as he tried to piece together what had just happened and why.

“That’s not what I mean,” you said quickly. “I mean, I did ask… and I meant that part. I just- I was thinking it and didn’t realize I’d ask it out loud. I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Hey, the love of my life asks me to marry her, I’m gonna say yes,” he smiled.

“You’re really not embarrassed that I asked you?”

“Not at all. If you hadn’t asked me, then I’d have to ask you and I’ve been a mess for months thinking of a way to do it.”

“You were gonna ask me?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” he answered. “I just didn’t know if you were ready for that.”

“And you think I’m ready for marriage just because I asked you first?” You laughed. “I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. Seriously, it just came to me and I blurted it out without even asking myself if I was ready for it… without asking you if you were ready for it.”

“We’re ready,” he replied, taking your hand in his again to reassure you.

“How do you know?”

“I just- have a feeling about us,” he said with a grin.

You decided not to argue about this one. Sure, you had surprised even yourself with asking him to marry you, but he seemed thrilled about it anyway.

You still had a long way to go when it came to bettering yourself and handling emotions, but at least in this one moment, you actually felt good about your sudden decision to go ahead and spend the rest of your life with this man. Some things were just okay as they were and didn’t require questioning and reconsideration. This moment was your first chance at really making a big life-changing decision without worrying what anyone else had to say about it.

You no longer had a publicist who was trying to separate you and Billy. You no longer had your mother constantly telling you that you didn’t deserve love. All you had was the man that you loved and even if your marriage proposal was unplanned and probably crazy, it was at least your decision to make. Something about that made you feel more free than you ever had before.

Neither of you said anything else about the proposal for the rest of the day. It was sort of exciting to have this little secret for yourselves, just like when you first started dating in secret. Only this time, it wasn’t because you worried about what everyone else would think or say about it, but because it was your moment together that you wanted to keep between you at least for the day.

The two of you stole knowing glances through the last few hours of the day, excited that you were taking this step together. Honestly, you were surprised that no one else had noticed your little display in the green room when you proposed. But, you were just fine with keeping it to yourselves for a while longer.

When the day finished up, you and Billy turned down invitations to join everyone else for dinner that evening. Most of the group would be gearing up for karaoke later, and you knew the remaining friends would definitely insist on drinks after dinner.

The two of you managed to get out of the expected hangout time without much of a fight from anyone, and found a quiet place to sit and have dinner together. It was unusual for the two of you to have much alone time during conventions, but both of you decided you would insist on at least this one night considering the events of the day.

It may have been an unplanned and unexpected proposal that wasn’t at all traditional, but you were both quite serious about it. The least you could do for the other was take a moment to just be together.

After dinner and drinks, you and Billy walked hand-in-hand back to your hotel, smiling the entire way and basking in the idea of being engaged to each other. You talked a lot about it during dinner and maybe even already discussed possible dates.

More importantly, the two of you were able to talk about something as serious as setting a date without you freaking out. Normally, the finality and seriousness of something like marriage scared you. Normally, you wouldn’t even believe that anyone could love you enough to even consider being this serious with you. Over time, those insecurities had faded mostly. The idea of spending your life with Billy didn’t scare you at all. That’s how you knew you were making the right decision.

***

When you stepped into your hotel room, you immediately kicked off your heels and sat on the bed. You watched as Billy discarded his jacket, taking just a moment to admire how perfect he was. Not only was he seriously the sweetest and most amazing man you had ever known, he was certainly easy on the eyes.

Just looking at him never failed to turn you into a lovesick mess. You realized then that he deserved a lot better than what you had given him in terms of a marriage proposal. Just as he thought you deserved the world, you thought the same about him. You wished that you could go back just a bit to perhaps plan that whole thing better. You felt sort of empowered that you had been the one to propose, so there was no way you’d want to take that back; but you could have at least tried a little harder.

“I’m sorry that proposal was… the way it was,” you said as you watched him from the bed.

“Sorry?”

“I mean, it wasn’t even romantic,” you laughed. “I just blurted it out in the greenroom during downtime. I mean, you would’ve gone all out, right? You would have come up with this huge romantic display and gotten down on one knee and had a ring and everything.”

“How do you know I would’ve done all that?”

“Because that’s the type of guy you are,” you reminded him. “Disgustingly romantic. I, on the other hand, don’t know how to be romantic.”

“You said some pretty romantic stuff,” he responded, defending your proposal. “I also think it’s really cool that you were the one to ask me, by the way. Everyone expects the guy to propose, and I really dig the fact that you are such a rebel now.”

“I’m hardly a rebel,” you said as you rolled your eyes at him. “Honestly. I don’t know what to do next. Do I really need to get you a ring since I asked? I don’t think I can afford an engagement ring right now… are you a princess cut kind of guy? It’s like I don’t even know you.”

“No engagement ring for me,” he laughed. “And honestly, we can do whatever we want. It’s our engagement and no one gets to tell us what to do. We make our own rules.”

“Because we’re rebels?” You asked.

“Yeah. We’re… untraditional. I can get you a ring though. You know, to make it official.”

“Wouldn’t that defeat the entire purpose of me being the one to propose?”

“Are you saying that you don’t want a ring?” He asked.

“Well… I didn’t really say that…”

“Then I’ll get you a ring,” he smiled.

“Now I just feel bad,” you sighed as you plopped down on the bed. “It was my idea and I didn’t even get anything for you.”

“Hey, I’m just really glad you’re the one who did all the real work,” he said as he laid down next to you. “Seriously.”

“Still, it would have been nicer if I gave you something to seal the deal.”

He hummed in response, moving closer to you so that he could kiss you. He nuzzled against your neck, placing soft kisses against your skin, instantly teasing you. He knew this move made you weak and he often used it to his advantage.

“All I need is you,” he said. “It’s all I’ve ever needed.”

“Now I feel worse because I didn’t turn down the idea of you buying me a ring,” you replied.

He shifted then, pushing himself up so that he could maneuver himself over you. He crashed his lips against yours and you grasped onto his waist, trying to pull him closer to you.

“Well,” he breathed out as he reached down to pull your shirt up, taking a moment to touch your skin.

Your breath hitched and you watched him intently, wanting him more than ever right now.

“You could tell me that a ring isn’t necessary,” he continued. “You could tell me that since we’re doing things sort of untraditionally, maybe we shouldn’t do rings at all.”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, biting your lip as his hand wandered farther up your shirt, stopping just below your breast. “But, I really want a diamond.”

This made him laugh out loud and you followed suit. He nodded in response, understanding the fact that you were sort of joking in the moment, but actually quite serious about the ring.

“Okay,” he agreed as he made eye contact. “Whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you smiled as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck to pull him back to you. “Right now, I just want you.”

“Like I said, whatever you want.”

***

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#worlds collide #billy moran x reader #billy moran rpf #louden swain rpf

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summerseachild · 5 years

Text

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I rewatched season 3.

The story so far: For those of you following along, I’ve been gearing up for watching the GoT I haven’t seen (the back half of season 5 and beyond) by rewatching the stuff I HAVE seen. It’s been... an experience. I’m coping with my fury by squeeing over the things I loved and foaming at the mouth over the things I hated.

The finale aired between my season 2 and 3 rewatch, and I am full of snark, but everything is also hilarious.

3x01

1. GHOST IS THE GOODEST BOY. Also everyone BE NICER TO SAM. Every time I see Kit and Rose together on screen I go, “Awww they’re gonna be married.” So happy this show brought them together.

2. Ciarán Hinds as Mande Rayder was SUCH epic good casting. I want to watch all of Rome now.

3. Davos is a salty old cat with nine lives and I was SO happy to see him alive. And then he RISKS ONE OF THEM being loyal to Stannis. That’s some Ned Stark levels of honor.

4. Michael McElhatton’s voice is so amazingly creepy I love and hate it all at the same time.

5. That first scene we get with Tyrion and Tywin is A LOT. Tyrion just wants a little bit of recognition and it’s SO SAD. (Also how did Tywin have the lions put up in his office so soon? SO EXTRA.) And wtf is up with Tywin intimating that Tyrion might be a bastard? So glad they dropped that. Who ended up Lord of Casterly Rock though? DOes AnYoNE EveN CaRE?

6. Sansa and Shae playing the game with the ships is... so cute. We overly imaginative people have all had that friend like Shae who’s like WHAT IS THE POINT OF PRETENDING.

7. Ok teenage Drogon cooking his food in midair before eating it was pretty cool.

8. Is that the Stranger on the wall of the building where Margaery talks to the orphans? In the middle of the seven pointed star? It looks CREEPY.

9. The epic Queen-off between Margaery and Cersei IS ON. (For the record Cersei’s armor dress is FANTASTIC.) Also, Jack Gleeson saying “charitable” like it’s a word in a foreign language he’s never heard before is GREAT.

10. You can see the seeds of Missandei being a fantastic diplomat for Queen Daenerys. :( Also, I wonder if Jorah knows she speaks Valyrian as he watched all of this unfold...

3x02

1. I wonder if what Talisa says about how Westerosi are viewed across the narrow sea, as barbarians who smell, is accurate. It makes sense...

2. OH SHIT THEON GETTING TORTURED IS IN THIS EPISODE I WAS NOT READY

3. Latest on a List of insults Brienne puts up with from Jaime: “giant towheaded plank.” He is such a shit. And the way he SWITCHES on a dime from so obviously baiting her to being DEAD serious with the “we don’t get to choose who we love” line... so very him.

4. Sansa and the Tyrells! Those gardens are SO incredibly pretty, and Diana Rigg is SO GOOD as Olenna. May I have half her wit when I’m her age. Getting info out of Sansa on Joffrey was SMART.

5. I love that we get a sense that there are different cultures and languages North of the Wall.

6. HOLY SHIT HI MACKENZIE CROOK I FORGOT YOU WERE IN THIS YOU ADORABLE STRING BEAN.

7. Reeeeeds! Jojen and Mira were so exciting when we first met them...

8. BROTHERHOOOOOD Without Banners SO COOL. And underused.

9. Jaime and Brienne are AT A BRIDGE and NOTHING IS OK enjoy the hand while you have it ,Jaime my love.

3x03

1. Lannister family musical chairs is SO GREAT and Tyrion and Cersei have SUCH BITCHY FACES AT EACH OTHER.

2. They tell Chuck Norris jokes about Brynden the Blackfish, don’t they.

3. Stannis: Men have been trying to kill me for years. Me: Well maybe they need to send a WOMAN TO DO IT. (yeeeeaaaaah Brienne)

4. Dany is a woman with a plan and watching Jorah and Ser Barristan freak out about her possibly giving up one of her dragons is kind of funny.

5. I had forgotten how COMMITTED Ramsay is to his “helping Theon” ruse.” Fuuuuuck.

6. Jaime losing his hand DOES NOT GET ANY EASIER TO WATCH.

3x04

1. Jaime Lannister and the No Good Very Bad Deathwish huuuurts meee. It’s so good Brienne was around.

2. Varys and the sorcerer in a box.... SO CREEPY. Do we ever get resolution on that?? Anyway it made me flat out terrified of the implacability of Varys’ revenge at the time, and Conleth Hill PLAYS IT.

3. The Sept is SO PRETTY way to go CGI folks. That whole scene is just GORGEOUS with the light framing Margaery and Joffrey and Cersei moving in and out of shadow...

4. Theon’s “all he had to do was be” re: Robb hit me RIGHT IN THE FEELS also wow show Theon was really Gay For Robb and you will not convince me otherwise. (Watching him pour his heart out to Ramsay makes me physically ill... whYyYYy am I sober...)

5. I still maintain that show Brienne is WAAAAAY meaner than book Brienne about Jaime’s “leave me alone I’m dying” phase in ways that are really out of character and I HATE IT. Also losing a HAND is not “a little bit of misfortune.” And SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT.

6. Cersei being like “I’ve been listening more than your sons” to Tywin. And Tywin being an ASSHOLE in response instead of FUCKING TELLING HER HOW TO DO BETTER with Joffrey makes me so angry.

7. “If Robb Stark falls Sansa Stark is the key to the North” YOU DON’T SAY VARYS

8. I am... sadder than I remember being about Jeor Mormont dying.

9. I. Like. Anguy. What HAPPENED to him? Also Beric is... intense, but I love him. (And Thoros was IN THE KEEP the day the baby Targaryens died?)

10. And ARYA GETTING TO TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT MYCAH TO ADULTS WHO LISTEN YES GOOD.

11. Dany hands that Dragon over COOL AS A CUCUMBER WHAT A QUEEN and theN the reveal that she SPEAKS FLUENT VALYRIAN AND DRACARYS AND I THINK I LOVE HER EVEN MORE OUT OF SPITE THIS TIME

3x05

1. Sandor Clegane trying to CHOP HIS OWN WOODEN SHIELD OFF HIS ARM because it’s on fire... wow. That whole scene is IMPRESSIVE. That was a fight that was TRIGGERY AS FUCK for him with all the fire and he still came out on top.

2. This is the episode where Jon and Jaime both get baths! Jon’s was a lot more fun. He got to have sex first. Jaime’s is preceded by being like “take any more of my arm than you have to and die” to Qyburn and a lot of screaming.

3. I CAN BE YOUR FAMILY ALSHAKDHSAG I AM SO ANGRY ARYA AND GENDRY DON’T END UP IN THE SAME PLACE. IT DIDN’T HAVE TO BE SCHMOOPY IT JUST NEEDED TO BE TOGETHER.

4. Every time I see Catelyn looking empty and far away in these scenes I see the Lady Stoneheart that could have been.

5. ROBB DON’T TRY TO BE YOUR DAD LISTEN TO YOUR MOM AND WIFE AND UNCLE. UGH RICHARD’S ACTING IN THAT EXECUTION SCENE THOUGH IT HURTS ME.

6. Beric Dondarion’s voice is amazing. I’m noticing voices more this time around...

7. Shireen Baratheon! What a precious little Princess! Her friendship with Davos is the best thing ever and SHE DESERVED BETTER.

8. Jaime and Brienne in the bath is funny when Jaime’s a shit until it gets very very serious and everything hurts and both of them are better actors than this show deserved. Jaime remembering URGING AERYS TO SURRENDER PEACEFULLY MAKES WHAT HAPPENS IN THE END HURT. He... hasn’t told that story to many people in its entirety and aaaaahhhh my feelings and him telling Brienne MY NAME IS JAIME I CANNOT WITH THEM.

9. Grey Worm is so handsome, and the more I see of Jacob Anderson in the behind the scenes stuff the more awesome he gets.

10. Ugh Cersei my love don’t be so smug about Tyrion and Sansa (Also Tyrion BRINGING UP TYSHA HOLY SHIT I FORGOT) Cersei and Tyrion both look so miserable at the end of that scene I just want to FUCKING THROTTLE TYWIN. Which is how I felt in the books here so KUDOS TO ALL INVOLVED.

3x06

1. I LOVE that we get to hear the Faith of the Seven’s version of “Jesus loves me” and I love that it’s Sam who sings it.

2. Meera holding Jojen while he has his vision/seizure like she’s done it a thousand times before... so sweet. I love that taking care of those who need it is just... part of who she is, and we need more people who are caring AND badass.

3. I forgot that Arya got an archery lesson from Anguy and I love it.

4. Melisandre being like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RAISED BERIC SIX TIMES to Thoros is great. Who knows what any of that means now but in the moment wow. Also WTF I FORGOT THEY GAVE GENDRY TO MELISANDRE

5. Ygritte asking Jon if he’s staring at her ass while climbing is so great. Way to know how good you look, girl!

6. Everyone at Riverrun: GROW UP EDMURE.

7. Jaime Being like BRIENNE DO NOT STAB BOLTON I GOT THIS = friendship goals

8. Cersei and Tyrion talking about their impending miserable marriages and not being entirely awful to each other gives me a bit of joy even as I weep for all of them.

9. I laughed for a long time at Varys line calling the Iron Throne “The Lysa Arryn of chairs.”

10. That last shot of Jon and Ygritte kissing is SO PRETTY. Everything at the top of the wall is, really.

3x07: GET BEHIND ME WENCH DON’T YOU SEE THE BEAR

1. Oh GRRM wrote this one. Cool.

2. Brynden Tully calling Walder Frey a wet shit is delightful. I love him so.

3. Do we ever find out if Talisa was telling the truth about writing to her mother? Or any sort of mention of her again since she’s nobility in Volantis and it might be a thing that she got murdered? No?

4. TORMUND TALKING ABOUT FOREPLAY IS HYSTERICAL HE IS THE BOYFRIEND BRIENNE DESERVES

5. Protective Dragons are Protective

6. Please TAKE OUR SHIP AND OUR GOLD AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF ESSOS: the Yunkai emissary, basically.

7. Poor Gendry. What a way to find out your dad was King Robert... Melisandre has a flair for the dramatic.

8. Jaime is bad at goodbyes especially when Brienne called him Ser Jaime instead of Kingslayer.

9. Ygritte threatening to blacken Jon’s eye if he tears her hypothetical silk dress.. THIS is how you write a badass girl who also likes pretty things.

10. Jaime jumping into that ring and continuing to throw his influence around for Brienne... yes good. He’s lucky that bear didn’t get his FOOT TOO though. And that last “Sorry about the Sapphires” to Locke as he’s leaving.... he just can’t help himself he HAS TO POKE PEOPLE VERBALLY EVEN WHEN IT’S DANGEROUS.

3x08: the One with the Other Other Wedding

1. Travels with Sandor and Arya is such a good show.

2. Davos trying to read is SO CUTE. And Stannis coming to Davos for advice and free him says a lot about a Stannis’ character at this point in the show.

3. Hey! It’s the first Daario!

4. Tyrion tried so hard to be kind. I’m glad he and Sansa seem to end on good terms.

5. Cersei being like “I see how you are trying to be my friend and I want NONE OF IT” to Margaery and then telling the story of house Reyne is a power move.

6. Joffrey moving Tyrion’s step stool at the wedding was a DICK MOVE but I love the look Tywin gives people who are laughing. (And Tyrion And Sansa making the best of a bad situation and Sansa weakly smiling at him when he makes the the joke about the wine before the ceremony is sweet)

7. NOBODY CARES WHAT YOUR FATHER ONCE TOLD YOU YES CERSEI MY QUEEN 👑

8. Tyrion pretending to be drunker than he was to get him and Sansa out of that room and away from Joffrey and the bedding ceremony is SO SAD but smart.

9. Sam cooing and fussing over that baby is the sweetest thing ever.

10. SAM KILLING THAT WHITE WALKER IS LIKE NEVILLE KILLING NAGINI CHANGE MY MIND WAIT YOU CANNOT HE’S SO BRAVE AND I LOVE HIM

3x09: The Rains of MY TEARS ABOUT THE RED WEDDING

I have a RUM and coke ready to go let’s do this

1. Robb asking Catelyn’s advice after he didn’t listen toher about Theon and the Ironborn :...(

2. Those POOR FREY GIRLS are they ok? I hope Arya didn’t kill any of them since they didn’t ask to be Walder the Worst’s daughters and granddaughters.

3. Grey Worm stepping into a leadership role ❤️

4. So... was Castle Black abandoned at the END of Jahaerys’ reign? I feel like the castles were mostly manned at the beginning of his reign? Gotta check on that.

5. In which Jon and Arya are both concerned about innocent small folk.

6. I FORGOT HOW CLOSE ARYA GETS TO THE TWINS

7. I ALSO FORGOT HOW CLOSE BRAN AND RICKON GOT TO JON. And... So much warging and direwolf action!

8. Daario Grey Worm And Jorah make a badass team gotta say.

9. HOLY SHIT MY WIFE JUST POINTED OUT THAT ROSLIN IS ANNE FROM THE MUSKETEERS. I knew I loved that face in a way I hadn’t before when she took off that veil!

10. Byyyyyyeeee Shaggy and Rickon and Osha!

11. Robb and Talisa decided to name the baby Eddard right before shit went down and I am NOT OK.

12. Fuck me that song HERE WE GO FOLKS.

13. Ugh Catelyn figured out what was about to happen right before. I had forgotten that. All the things that weren’t ok any of the other times are still not ok.

14. GREYWIND NO and now the crying

15. Catelyn with her knife to that Frey girl’s throat is so desperately sad Michelle Fairley BROUGHT IT and I hate everything

3x10: Of Course I’m watching this right after the Red Wedding what do you suggest I do instead? Sit on the couch and cry? (Because that’s definitely what I was gonna do if I didn’t start the next one.)

1. I never noticed Sandor picking up the FREY banner very intentionally smart man. Which I am choosing to focus on because...

2. if I never see Robb’s body with Greywind’s head again it will be too soon.

3. Tyrion and Sansa talking about how to get back at people who laugh at them like they’re friends ❤️❤️❤️

4. Any man who must say I am the king is no true king TELL IT LIKE IT IS TYWIN.

5. Tywin: 1 Joffrey: -15 I’ve been waiting for that throwdown for a while now.

6. Tywin really believes what he’s saying about putting family first. And that STORY ABOUT NEARLY DROWNING TYRION OMG.

7. Ugh Sansa knooooows about the RW and Tyrion just walks away because he’s the last “family” she wants to see.

8. Scary stories at the Night Fort! Like the Rat King... Bran’s a good ghost story teller.

9. WHAT A TRANSITION TO WALDER FREY after all that talk of guest right

10. Can’t wait for dogs to eat Ramsay because Theon’s pleas to be killed turns my stomach and make me see red all at once LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU BASTARD

11. Oh jeez this is where we get the Reek thing in the show. Theon says his own name twice before Ramsay hurts him enough he calls himself Reek and Alfie is SO GOOD I HATE IT

12. Oh right Sam & Co are in the Nightfort too!

13. Yarra not being ok with Balon abandoning Theon GIVES ME LIFE. She’s just so disgusted with her dad AS SHE SHOULD BE.

14. Greyjoys DO NOT DO AS THEY ARE TOLD and I love Yarra.

15. Don’t talk too much shit about highborns Gendry You’re gonna be one.

16. Varys and Shae talking is SO INTERESTING. I... think Varys has some points, and I think she should have listened, taken the diamonds, and peaced out of King’s Landing.

17. That Cersei and Tyrion scene where they talk about her children keeping her alive HURTS MY SOUL SO MUCH.

18. Arya stabbing the fuck out of that Frey bragging about sewing Greywind’s head on gives me SO MUCH SATISFACTION. Also Sandor being like “TELL ME next time we’re gonna do murder, ok kid?” Is THE BEST.

19. I love that Davos is the one we get to see reading the letter Maester Aemon writes.

20. DAVOS MAKES A CHOICE AND IT’S THE RIGHT ONE. Do you know how to swim?? No. ... Don’t fall out. 😂

21. Jaime is hoooooome in King’s Lannister and I have Lannister feels spilling ALL OVER THE PLACE.

22. Oh right and Dany has a whole bunch of people calling her mom in whatever variety of Valyrian they speak in Yunkai. That was a thing.

#summersea has feels about got #summersea got rewatch 2019

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crimsxnflxwerz · 6 years

Text

Like The Dawn [ch.2]

Rating: Teen+ Summary: Sometimes it takes opening your eyes to find what you’re looking for.[ or Persephone gets reborn as a baby boy named Ryan, and Hades takes the human form Shane in a desperate attempt to find his love once again. ] Pairing: Ryan/Shane Tags: greek mythology, Hades and Persephone, reincarnation, oblivious Hades is oblivious, memory loss Author Note: This is both my own take on the classic Greek myth of Hades and Persephone and how reincarnation in Gods work and such. Original ideas stemming heavily from mythological texts.

ps. i changed Ryan to a transguy when i edited the story for a03, so that’s canon now! hope it doesn’t turn anyone off ;;v;;. also, Sara’s in the fic because she deserves to be in ever fic. happy thanksgiving!

Ryan was drowning.

Maybe drowning wasn’t the best word for it. He’d been walking along the dark shore of a vast, choppy river, bare feet walking delicately on thousands of small, round pebbles. The horizon was a white light that bled up into a black sky like a watercolor painting. There were no stars, no moon, no sounds but the waves lapping at the rocks. He’d been walking for miles, but he wasn’t tired. He’s been watching the water for hours, but the image hadn’t changed. The light stayed the same, the air remained chill, the darkness absolute.

And he had walked into the water like it was the most normal thing he could have been doing. As soon as his foot touched the water, it felt like he’d been bitten. Like a thousand teeth were piercing his skin. The water physically recoiled, moving as a single body, steam hissing upward.

He wasn’t drowning. Drowning would imply accident. This was no accident. He’d stepped into that black water to die, and that had been that. He could remember why he had done what he did, what he was escaping, but the pain in his chest outweighed the fear of the water. There was a voice in his ear.

“Once you do this, you cannot go back,” it said. “Unless he finds you, you may not return to what you once were.”

Ryan heard the words, but held his resolve. Eventually the water engulfed him, and he opened his mouth, letting it in. It felt heavy, and cold, but he couldn’t leave now. He’d made his choice, and that was to die.

The last thing he heard was a name, his name he thought, but it said, “Persephone.”

Ryan jolted awake. He looked around his bedroom, eyes scanning frantically for his clock. His eyes located it on the floor, probably knocked over at some point in the night. It’s neon blue digital numbers read 3:30 am. Sweat was covering his entire body, soaking through his pajama shirt and into his pillow. He threw the covers back away from his legs and sat up on the side of his bed.

Another dream about it. He stood shakily and went to turn his shower on. Another dream about drowning. He peeled his pajamas off and tossed them in his laundry basket as he waited for the water to warm up. What could the dreams mean, he thought, staring at himself in the mirror. He ran his fingertips along the thin surgery scars on his chest. They were pale enough by now to not be very noticeable. Maybe the dreams were from the shots. It didn’t make much sense, but he figured he might as well look it up later.

He hopped into the shower and washed all the sweat off his body, the hot water pouring down on his shoulders, loosening up his muscles. Despite having a general fear of water, he loved showers. He figured since you couldn’t drown in a shower, that it was relatively safe. They look less time, too. If he was feeling particularly timid about water one day, he could just get in and out and still feel clean.

Ryan had held a fear of water and drowning since he was a baby. His mother used to only fill the tub up an inch or else he would start screaming and crying. She had no idea why he would be afraid of the water, they both agreed that nothing had happened to him to justify the fear.

In middle school, Ryan’s friends liked to joke that he had died by drowning in a past life. Although he didn’t believe in that kind of thing, he always found himself feeling forlorn or lonely whenever the subject was brought up. And now, living on his own, the idea continued to haunt him, but this time through vivid nightmares.

Though he had a fear of water, it didn’t hinder his other loves. He loved exploring, writing, and filming. The first thing he did with his new laptop was set up his own Youtube channel. He only had his laptop camera, but he would talk for hours about conspiracy theories and things that he found on his many nature walks. He wasn’t very good at cutting his videos down, since he thought everything was pretty important, but he learned through trial and error. Then he got his first camcorder for his 16th birthday. It was small, but unlike his laptop camera, he could take it with him on his journeys. He documented everything he could, the videos gaining some more viewers now that the video wasn’t just of him.

He wasn’t bad looking, but it could get boring watching just someone’s face for almost an hour.

Today, he would be filming again before he went to work. Since graduating college, he hadn’t gotten any kinda job that really went along with his major. It was hard to find work in film, especially if the thing you wanted to film was myths, ghosts, and local legends. His job was to take calls and transfer information. Basically, a secretary. He wasn’t mad about it though. It wasn’t a hard job, it paid for his new recording gear, and it had good hours.

He got out of the shower and threw on some flannel, jeans, and boots. He wanted to go out in the woods today. He’d been researching fae and other mythical creatures that hung around wooded areas recently. In fact, he’d been kind of into reading mythology, too. It wasn’t that he thought the stories were real, they were too fantastic, too magic. Ryan did believe in some unexplainable things, but there had to be at least a little logic to it.

He was mostly interested in things like fairy rings. His mother had told him once that they were active spiritual zones, and they were caused by tiny spirits sleeping on the Earth. She said that she wasn’t sure if they were good or bad, they just were. He was hoping to find some of those today, maybe study them further.

As he walked from his apartment, he felt deep inside him that something about today was just—off. For lack of a better term. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to be off about it, maybe his gut was just fooling him or something. He held fast to his camera bag as he waited for the bus. He wasn’t in a bad part of town, but the bad feeling was making him a bit paranoid. He didn’t need to be in a bad part of town for something bad to happen, anyways. He sighed in relief when the bus pulled up and he paid with his bus pass.

The bus generally took him to work, so he felt a little out of place being so dressed down. At his job, he didn’t really need to wear a suit, but he did wear a button up and slacks, sometimes a tie. He looked around and saw that other people were wearing nicer things, carrying laptop bags and briefcases. He was glad that his stop wasn’t too far down the road.

Stepping off the bus brought on a sigh of relief. Ryan looked ahead, across the street, to the state park he had chosen to explore today. Along with the bone-deep fear of water, Ryan also had an uncanny relationship with nature. Ever since he was a child, both animals and plants have had connections with him. He could nurse any house plant back to health. Deer would approach him on his walks in the woods. Dogs and cats acted calmer around him, as if he had some kind of aura that spoke their language, like he was telling them that they were safe now. All the better for his journey in learning more about the world around him. He remembered once, when he didn’t have his camera, he had been approached by a fox. It sniffed his hand and trotted along behind him through his walk that day. It had been so magical, if only he’d caught it on camera.

He dug his camera out of the bag and flicked it on as he crossed the street. He figured he’d just take the first trail he saw, and soon spotted one that was marked with stones. As he stepped into the woods, the feeling from earlier came back, but he brushed it off yet again. There was no need to worry, right?

Sara: Do you wanna hang out at your place today?

Shane squinted at the screen of his phone. He looked at the clock, but remembered that he’d actually unplugged it last night, so it wasn’t on. Judging by the light outside, he’d have to guess that it was around noon. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and let out a small groan.

Six months. Six months, he’d been a human without going back down, even once. He’d never been in the overworld for this long at once. It was exhausting, really. As a human, in his human body, he needed to do things, like eat, and sleep. In the underworld, he never needed to do these things. Drink nectar for pleasure, bathe to pass time, and lay in his bed covered in furs to see if they still smell like her.

Oh yes, he’d been in the overworld for six months, because he could have sworn he was getting close.

He wasn’t sure why he felt this way. There was no indication besides a tightness in his chest, an anxious feeling in his gut. His very soul reaching out, feeling hers reach back.

Shane: No, you know the rules. Corner café?

Since living in the overworld, Shane had discovered many things about humans. First of all, if you slip up and call yourself something like Hades, people don’t take you seriously. Shane did some searching on babynames.com to find an average kind of name for a male. Shane seemed like a pretty good name, and so that’s what he became. Eventually, it became natural to refer to himself as Shane, but in his slip up period, he hadn’t made any friends.

Well, he had made one friend.

Sara: okay fine… just so you know, your “rules” are dumb.

Sara was like a blessing. Shane had thought it was a good idea when he came up to the overworld to start his search via dating apps. Truthfully, he just didn’t know how or where to start searching, and he already had a curiosity about human dating, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try it out. He’d made a profile for himself, and the only person to actually respond and come through was Sara. They chatted online for hours at a time, and finally met up at a café.

Shane already knew that Sara wasn’t Persephone before they even physically met. He was sure that when he found her again, something in his chest would ignite. When he started messaging Sara, he’d been excited, but nothing seemed to click. They went on two dates before he told her this. Well, he told her that he didn’t think they were gonna work out, but followed it up with a friendship invitation, claiming he needed a friend because he was “new in town”. Sara had taken it really well, she almost seemed relieved when he asked if they could just be friends.

Shane: you know you like them ;) see you there.

Sara was interested in finding out more about him. She figured out quickly enough that he was looking for someone specific, not just anyone. Not someone he hadn’t met yet. Maybe it had been the faraway look in his eyes when his eyes happen to catch a bouquet of flowers. Maybe it was the desperate arch of his shoulders, always looking, head held up in search. Somehow, she knew, and she just wanted to help.

They were meeting today for coffee.

Shane threw on a flannel and sweater with jeans. Feeling comfortable, he grabbed his wallet and laptop bag. He discovered quite quickly that he couldn’t do much in the overworld without some form of currency, and apparently gold coins were a thing of the past, so he had to make due. He found a place that traded jewelry for cash, and happily traded some lesser crafts for enough money to live in the overworld. He left his apartment and walked down the street to the café to meet up with Sara. She lived closer to it, so she’d probably be there before him. He wondered if he should text her what he wanted, or just wait until he got there.

On his way to the café, he kept looking across the street at the state park. There was something about the park that was calling to him today. As he walked, the feeling grew stronger. He looked on curiously at the forest, wondering the world was trying to tell him something. If he did go into the park, what would he find there? The feeling was coming from an ancient part of him, one that has been searching for decades, for millennium, just to find her.

He managed to pull himself away for now, since he was nearly at the café, but it didn’t leave his mind.

The café door jingled when he entered, and he saw a girl life her head. She had short, curly hair was had been dyed a deep purple. She immediately beamed at him, waving him over. Shane came over and saw that she had a number on her table.

“Order something already?” he asked.

“Oh, don’t worry, I got you something,” she grinned. “You like tea, right?”

He blushed at the thoughtfulness. “Y-yeah, I love tea.”

“Oh! I’m glad I remembered, haha,” she said. “I got you tea. I figured, since I was already here…”

“That’s very nice of you,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Oh, how are you?”

Sara shrugged one shoulder and absently picked at a peeling bit of paint on the table. “Eh, I’m okay, better now that I have company!”

Shane moved his chair a little closer to her, draping an arm over her shoulder. “Oh, what happened?”

“Just another date fell through,” she muttered. “It’s so hard to find someone these days.”

“Oh yeah, tell me about it,” he laughed. She smiled up at him. Their conversation was interrupted by a server coming over and asking them if this was their order, and set down a tray. The tray had a steaming cup of tea, a mug of coffee, a bagel, and a bowl of yogurt with oats and fruit. Sara nodded enthusiastically, and the server left them, taking the number on their table.

“Is that all yours?” Shane asked, but then she handed him the bagel and cup of tea.

“Oops, looks like I got more food than I can eat…” she muttered, trying not to grin. Shane blushed.

“You didn’t need to get this…” he said, but smiled about it anyways. After making friends with Sara, Shane had realized how lonely he’d been all by himself for so long. It was good to have a friend. In the underworld, he never had any friends. Well, he didn’t try and make any either, but still.

“Well, I needed to pay you back for all those things you’ve done for me!” she insisted. Her hand ghosted over the necklace she was currently wearing. It was a small diamond moonstone on a silver chain. The moonstone was one of his favorite gemstones, and he basically hoarded them in his palace. They always gave off a calming aura, or at least it seemed like it. It reminded him of the underworld, or at least the good parts of it. Like standing on the white shore of the great river Acheron. Unlike Styx, Acheron was peaceful and pleasant. The yang to Styx’s yin.

He’d given her that necklace the day after they decided to just be friends. He wanted to thank her for sticking around. There weren’t many people who did that for him.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” he smiled, before spreading some cream cheese on his bagel. “But this bagel will do just fine.”

They talked for a bit, sipping their drinks and simply enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, though, the pull from earlier came back. Like a magnet in his gut, being attracted to something in the woods across the street. He gazed out the window, feeling himself zone out. He imagined his beautiful wife, the night before she killed herself. She was wearing a gorgeous crimson sheer dress, roses and sticks of red berries woven into her hair. The last place he saw her was when he had left her lounging on their bed, neck red from kisses, blinking sleepily up at him.

He shouldn’t have left her that night. He hadn’t been that busy, it could’ve waited, whatever it was. That had been so long ago. He’d let so many memories go, but not that one. Her dark eyes, heavy lashes, the curve of her body, the softness in her voice. It was all so clear, and yet, he had overlooked all the signs.

She hadn’t really been happy with him. There was always something calling her away. She was like a caged bird, a chained animal. She sang and smiled and laid down to be touched, but it was all for show. She might have loved him, but he wasn’t enough. He had never been enough, and he never would be. He didn’t own her, because no one could ever own such a spirit.

“Earth to Shane,” he was brought back by a hand waving in front of his face. Sara looked at him quizzically.

“Something on your mind, buddy?” she asked. He felt his chest tighten when he looked away from the window. He brought out his wallet and plucked out a few dollars.

“Hey, I gotta go, here’s some money for the tip,” he said, hurriedly.

“Wait, you’re leaving already?” she asked, looking a bit disappointed. She rolled with it, however, and called after him as he left the café. “Well, text me later, I guess!”

He looked into the woods across the street as he waited for the light to change. The feeling inside of him grew stronger the longer he stared. The feeling told him that she was close. She was there, in the woods.

“I don’t know if you’re really out there,” he whispered to himself. “But I’ll find you, I promise.”

#buzzfeed unsolved #gods au #hades and persephone au #shyan #skeptic believer #my fic #hope you like!!!#happy thanksgiving guys!!!#alreadydone99

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saturninemartial · 6 years

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Me and You - Chapter 2

Rating: Mature/Explicit. Ship: Shyan (Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara) Warnings: Thar be dicks. Series: I love you more than I ever loved anyone before, or anyone to come. Synopsis: The boys go to bone zone. Itl’s just 5000 words of fluffy, romantic smut. Notes: This is the end to the very first part of a series I’ll be writing, which will include other ships like Standrew and Zagene. See the AO3 post for more of my plans.

AO3 link

They finally head back to the car when it starts getting dark out. Ryan’s skin looks a shade darker; and when Shane peers into the rearview mirror, his cheeks and nose are a little pink, which will turn into either freckles or a slight tan. The walk to the car and the drive back home are both comfortably silent, broken only by half-mumbled comments about their surroundings.

Ryan’s gears are turning again. Shane can tell because of this very specific facial expression, that mostly comes from the way the younger man sets his jaw. He’s deep in thought the entire time he drives them back, the entire time they’re eating leftovers for dinner, and the entire time he’s drying his hair off from his shower. He wouldn’t possibly be having second thoughts about this whole…arrangement, would he? The only thing he could possibly be thinking about is their engagement.

Shane feels a little—no, a lot warm when he thinks about it being an engagement. It’s kind of pleasant.

Though they’re not totally exhausted yet, they’re worn out enough to eventually make their way to get ready for bed, even if that means laying down and talking or playing around on their phones for a little while as they wind down. Ryan is curled up under the covers, already wearing his pajama bottoms, no shirt, when Shane comes in from the bathroom. He’s hardly gotten his ass on the bed and stretched out when Ryan is swooping from under the covers and straddling Shane’s legs, the most determined expression on his face. It’s almost a little scary.

“What’s all this about?” Shane gestures to the younger man admittedly trapping him. Ryan is kind of heavy, after all.

“I need to talk to you about something.” The scary look on Ryan’s face somehow intensifies. It’s pretty comical, and Shane would laugh if he knew his boyfriend—no, fiancé wasn’t kind of worked up over something right now.

“So why the…” Shane gestures again.

“So you won’t try to escape the conversation!”

“That’s stupid!” Ryan bears down even harder, and Shane sighs, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

Ryan rubs the side of his face, glancing away, the expression on his features changing dramatically. Whatever this is, he’s rehearsed this in his head all afternoon and probably still isn’t happy with the way he’s decided to ask it. “Earlier, I—You just—Are you serious about us getting married?”

Shane blinks, then furrows his brow slightly, something softening in him. “Ry, get off me.”

“Answer the question first, dipshit.”

“Get off me so I can answer your question.” They have a very short staring match, which Ryan loses; and the younger man slides off with a sigh. Shane deposits his glasses on the nightstand and shifts to lay on his side facing Ryan, propping his face on his hand. “What brings this up? Have you really been thinking about this all day? Those gears in your head—you really need to oil them, they’re very loud and squeaky.”

“Don’t talk about my gears like that, they’re perfectly fine!” Ryan huffs, crossing his arms against his bare chest. He’s leaning against the head board, obviously a little…shy? afraid? of looking Shane in the face right now. He’s an emotional guy, and sometimes it embarrasses him how wrapped up he gets. It’s totally endearing. “We always joke around with each other and stuff, I just wanna know if it was for real this time. Were you fooling around? Were you just joshin’?”

“Ryan…” His name comes out of Shane in a sigh, exasperated but still loving. “It was real. I’m sorry I didn’t have a whole fancy proposal planned out, and I know how you are about romantic things. But I swear on my life it was genuine.”

Ryan chews on his lip. “That doesn’t hold much weight considering how many times you’ve just begged to be killed by demons or spirits.”

“Ry,” Shane chides, louder than before. “I’m serious. I mean it. We’re gonna get married, for real. And even if I was joking before, the look on your face when I gave you that makeshift ring would have made me serious about it anyway.” Shane reaches out and takes one of Ryan’s wrists, unfolding the crossed arms, and brings the younger man’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. This garners an immediate reaction from Ryan, who’s looking on with some sort of…flattered embarrassment. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna get married and we’re gonna do it whatever way you like.” He’s laying it on thick.

Ryan looks like he might cry, but in an ‘overwhelmed by emotion’ way. As long as he doesn’t actually shed tears, it feels like an accomplishment. “Shane…” It’s quiet and wavering and affected. Shane finds it to feel amazing, to be able to make someone act and feel like this.

“Hey, hey—“ Shane is moving again, now laying himself on top of Ryan’s legs. He’d totally lay himself on top of all of the shorter man but Ryan is sitting up. “Don’t you dare cry. You haven’t cried at all during any of this.” It’s admonishing, but there’s a hint of a grin in his voice. Ryan is tight-lipped, trying to control himself, but there’s a little bit of a smile there.

“Would you rather I cry now, or bawl like a fucking baby when we finally do go through with this?”

“I mean…I’d rather you not cry at all if we can help it.”

“Well, that’s too fucking bad because I’m gonna cry at some point.” But Shane is successful, as Ryan is grinning now, the tears hopefully no longer threatening him. The younger man cups Shane’s face in both hands and pulls him closer, and Shane obeys. “I love you, even though you’re a fucking idiot sometimes. A Jack Links wrapper, really? I like to think I’m worth a little more than trash.”

“Trash spray painted gold, maybe?” Shane suggests, and this earns him one of the famous wheezes.

“You’re the fucking worst.” Ryan’s expression and tone are fond though, and he pulls Shane up into a kiss. Loving and sweet, it’s like the epitome of Ryan kisses; and as soon as Ryan wants to break for air, Shane just chases him down for another one of those kisses. It’s like drinking a fruity, sugary cocktail: so sweet it will hurt your teeth, and unexpectedly intoxicating.

Shane mentally kicks himself in the head for coming up with a stupid metaphor like that while he’s kissing his beloved.

Ryan gets his breath in, and grins crookedly up at Shane. Which is just—it’s so fucking cute and Shane absolutely cannot handle it, especially in moments like these. The shorter man wriggles a bit and then slides down so he’s no longer leaning against the head board and instead mostly laying on pillows. The hands are removed from Shane’s face (after a quick smoosh), and this time it’s his that find Shane’s, and their fingers are interlocked. And now—now, Ryan has their hands on either side of his head, as though he’s pinned down by the hands. And, well, this is something they both enjoy, usually a show of possessiveness and control by Shane.

It’s weirdly heart-warming right now, he realizes; it’s some sort of metaphor for Shane having Ryan under his control, or…or something about Ryan giving everything over to him, which is even more evident by the big, trusting eyes the younger is giving Shane right now.

And maybe—just maybe, the marriage idea sounds even nicer now. The ultimate show of ‘this one is mine, hands off’. They belong to each other, of course, it’s a nice give-and-take, but Shane has more outward possessive tendencies; and, well, they both get off on it.

“You know,” Shane starts, now pressing down on Ryan’s hands and shifting a little bit to be a little more in control physically. “Ryan Madej does have a nice ring to it, now that I think about it.”

“But Ryan Bergara doesn’t have a ring at all.” He grins up, cheeky.

Shane rolls his eyes with a groan, though it’s good-natured. “See, now you’re getting greedy.”

“I think I can afford to when I have such a catch.” Even underneath him like this, Ryan can sometimes manage to be so charming out of nowhere.

“Good save.” Shane leans down and catches his fiance’s lips with his own. Ryan is still smiling as they kiss, tilting his chin upwards and drinking it in. The younger man wants attention, and love, both things he knows Shane is more than willing to shower him in. And it’s a little bit of a special night, right? Ryan deserves all of this and even more, more than Shane would ever reasonably be able to give him.

“I love you,” Ryan breathes before Shane kisses him again, drinking in the words. It’s hotter, deeper, more insistent. You belong to me and that’s final. As much as he loves pinning Ryan down by the hands, one of his own hands gets a little distracted and drifts down to Ryan’s side, stroking the skin lightly and eliciting a gasp from Ryan, muffled by their kissing.

Ryan is intoxicating, and Shane thinks that it might be himself that’s the greedy one, as he steals kiss after kiss. It gets messier, like Ryan’s breathing, but there’s probably no other way for Shane to show his adoration for the younger man than repeating kisses that seem to flow into each other. It’s clearly doing something, too, as evidenced by the tiny gasps and nearly inaudible whimpers he’s gaining from the man under him.

It’s time for his lips to travel, Shane decides, his mouth smearing down the side of Ryan’s face and to his jaw, where he presses open-mouthed kisses. Ryan’s chest is heaving slightly from the heavy, shaking breaths he’s panting out, and his free hand finds the back of the older man’s head, tugging gently on his hair. Shane hums as he feels fingernails gently scraping his scalp, and his teeth graze against Ryan’s jaw gently, teasingly.

“Shane—“

“Mmm?” But he knows there will be no reply, only more quiet gasping. He’s more eager to draw more sounds out of his boyfriend—no, fiancé, so the next target is Ryan’s neck, just under his jaw. This gains him a louder gasp, and a tighter tug to his hair. As tempting as Ryan’s neck is, Shane usually resists the urge to mark it up, mostly for the sake of work. But right now, the temptation is too strong, and, fuck it, they’ll figure it out, just for the sake of showering the younger man in attention, but also for Shane to indulge himself a bit.

He presses sloppy open mouthed kisses to Ryan’s neck, messy and lazy but also devouring. Ryan sucks in a breath and wriggles a little. Shane suddenly feels like his head is being held in place. He smirks—Ryan has given himself away. His tongue lathes lazily and languidly over the pulse in the shorter man’s neck, and there’s the first moan. His teeth graze experimentally over the skin, and there’s a gasp and another hair tug. His teeth gain purchase on skin on the side of Ryan’s neck and he sucks, a hum in his own throat, and Ryan tilts his head back, unable to stop the louder moan that comes tumbling out of his mouth.

Leaving one mark is only the beginning of a process.

Ryan has always been protective of his neck against love bites, as he doesn’t really wear makeup or scarves or turtlenecks to hide them. But this time he isn’t stopping Shane, who’s leaving a sweet kiss against the site of the first one and then smearing his lips over on Ryan’s neck to make a neighboring one. He doesn’t know what they’re going to do about this, but the sound of Ryan’s groan as another love bite is sucked into the side of his neck is too intoxicating for Shane to stop and think about it. Even Ryan the over-thinker doesn’t seem to be holding himself back from enjoying this.

The third one, on the same side, results in a needy keen. They’ve shifted slightly so their other hands are no longer together, and Ryan’s hand that isn’t in Shane’s hair has tucked itself under the older man’s t-shirt, nails digging into skin. Grasping, clinging, needing. Several light kisses are peppered against the marks forming on Ryan’s neck before Shane shifts again. There’s a needy whine/groan from Ryan when that contact is lost, but Shane leans down and kisses the younger man on the mouth again. It’s firm, a little bit fiery, and almost like a wordless affirmation, and Ryan is returning the pressure and feeling until he feels a hand palming the growing hardness below his waist, at which point he tilts his head back slightly and moans, surprised and urgent.

“Shane.” It’s long and drawn out, needy, practically begging. Just the way Shane wants him to be.

“Hmmm…?” The older man’s lips have found themselves on the unmarked side of Ryan’s neck, priming the skin with pecks and a dragged out lap. And lower down, he gives a little squeeze to Ryan’s length through his pajama pants and boxer briefs. The squeeze leads into a brand new suck on the side of the younger man’s neck, and Ryan writhes and cries out from the combined sensations.

“Shane, please, fuck!”

“Please what, baby?” he teases softly when he’s finished making this mark, lips still grazing lightly against Ryan’s sensitive skin. “Can’t really do anything if I don’t know what to do.”

This earns him an exasperated groan, and Shane chuckles quietly. Sometimes it’s fun to tease, though it’s also difficult on him as Ryan’s beautiful reactions get him turned on too. These foreplay sessions don’t ever last terribly long as they both get each other so wound up so quickly. If Ryan were in a better position, his hands would have started wandering too. But even though it looks like Shane is control, Ryan has the older man wrapped around his finger.

“You know how I feel about teasing–” Ryan grunts, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly.

“I mean, I do have a pretty good idea of how you feel right now in general, baby,” Shane coos in reply, giving the length another playful squeeze. Ryan’s hips jut upwards and he whines quietly.

“Get fucked, prick,” Ryan growls when Shane laughs.

“So no more of this?” Shane lightly strokes up and down the clothed cock underneath his fingertips, eliciting another moan.

“Stop fucking teasing!”

Laughing again, Shane pulls himself up so he can peck Ryan’s forehead, the tip of his nose, then his lips. “So we headed to bone zone?”

Ryan stares up at him, then furrows his eyebrows, his expression morphing into something confused and a bit horrified. He’s obviously searching for words, opening his mouth and closing a couple times as he fails to think of something. “Bone zone? Really?”

Shane is trying his hardest not to laugh. “Yeah!” he replies earnestly.

“When you put it like that, it sounds a little unsavory. Like a frat boy’s apartment. Welcome to the bone zone.” Ryan wrinkles his nose.

“Okay. Do you wanna have sex or not?”

“I dunno.” Ryan pokes Shane square in the chest. “I don’t want you to peter yourself out before we get to the Mister and Mister Madej thing, old man.”

“Well…” Shane rolls his eyes to the side. “You don’t have a proper ring right now, so how else are you going to remember you’re going be Mister Madej eventually?”

The younger man licks and bites his lip. “A valid counterpoint but now I’m expecting you to live up to that promise.”

“If there’s one thing I am, it’s a lover, baby.” Shane kisses him again, sweeter than their sassy bant; and he shifts so he can lower himself, Ryan watching him descend with a small grin.

“I’d say you’re a lot of things, actually.”

Shane’s lips have met Ryan’s chest, and he looks up with the smallest raise of eyebrows.

“A fool, for one.” Ryan cards a hand through the older man’s already disheveled hair.

“Just a fool for you, Ry.” Shane pulls his gaze away as he plasters kisses to his fiance’s chest.

“A fucking idiot and just a doofus.”

“Only because you make me that way.” His lips are working their way down Ryan’s body, and he glances up–Ryan is staring at him with this look in his eyes that turns Shane into goo.

“You’re just…terrible. The worst.” His voice is soft and affectionate.

“Terribly in love, and the worst possible candidate for you.” His lips have landed on Ryan’s stomach, and he can tell the younger man is having a harder time keeping his breathing even.

“Shane, don’t say that…” His hand gently cups the side of the older man’s face.

“You deserve so much more than I could ever give you, Ryan Bergara.”

“But what if I only want you?” Ryan’s voice is so soft it’s almost a boner kill. “I’m lucky to be in love with my best friend. And you’re an idiot only because you don’t realize how much you’re actually worth.”

Shane presses his lips together in thought. Ryan is too sentimental for his own good, but sentimental is apparently what they’re going for tonight. He pulls himself back up, dropping kisses on the younger man’s stomach and chest on his way. “I love you, Ryan,” he murmurs against the younger’s lips before giving him a kiss. “You are my heart, and don’t you ever forget.”

“You’re a fool for thinking I would ever forget,” Ryan replies with a soft, crooked grin.

“Can I get back to business now?”

“Business away.”

Shane pulls back and surveys Ryan. He’s so gorgeous, so beautiful, no matter what. There are a million bullshit metaphors about Ryan being like the sun but none of them would ever really properly encapsulate the way Shane actually feels. His fingertips tuck under the waistband of the shorter man’s pajama pants and tug them down. Oh yeah–even after all that mushy pillow talk, Ryan is still hard, his boxer briefs concealing next to nothing. Does Ryan Bergara actually get off on emotions? The mystery is no longer unsolved.

Shane punches himself for the terrible, terrible joke; it feels inappropriate, especially with the way his fiance is looking up at him: eager eyes, open expression. “It’s sorta unfair and kinda comical, the way you’re attractive. Almost like a caricature of what someone would find hot.”

Ryan’s expression changes to one of confusion again. Okay–that probably didn’t sound like a compliment. “Are you calling me funny looking?”

Shane internally slaps his forehead. “No. I’m saying you’re so attractive that it’s funny. Like, you’re too attractive. Like a character in a book.”

Ryan still looks a little lost. “Ah… Thanks…?” Well, there is no saving that lost time. “Take off your shirt, at least, so we can be sorta equal.”

Well. Though Shane wouldn’t say he is ashamed of his body, he’s always more comfortable in layers of clothes, unlike his counterpart who sometimes wears maybe too little clothing. Not that Shane found Ryan’s predilection to wear more revealing things to be a bad thing; it was the fact that the younger often expected the same of him. Rolling his eyes, Shane complies, tossing his t-shirt somewhere. This lights up something else on Ryan’s face. More eagerness? Whatever it was, it was kind of flattering.

“Now shut the fuck up and make love to me already,” Ryan declares with a squeeze to Shane’s thigh. Well…that’s exactly what he’s been planning to do; but admittedly they both run their mouths way too much at inopportune times. They’re both ready to get down, though; so Shane just tugs the boxer briefs off of his fiance’s hips. Ryan looks electrified when his cock is freed; and he gasps when Shane wraps a hand around it, giving it another squeeze. “Sha-aaaaane!” It’s needy but also reprimanding in tone.

It’s a good time, Shane decides, to reach over into the nearest night stand and fish out a bottle of lube, then tuck it under the covers just to warm it up a little bit. Ryan’s eyes are glued onto him and every move he makes.

“Patience, baby,” Shane soothes, leaning down to peck at the younger man’s chest. “It’s never smart to rush into these things; and I know you’ll complain later if we do rush, even if you told me to hurry.” His fingertips are stroking up and down Ryan’s length, ensuring the other stays wanting.

“C’mon, it’s not winter in Illinois, it’s not gonna be that cold,” Ryan grumbles, referencing the lube. Which is true enough. The coldness of the lube is typically only a momentary complaint.

“Alright,” Shane shrugs, fishing the bottle out from under the bedspread.

“Hey.” Ryan snaps and points to Shane. Specifically his lower half. “You too. Take ‘em off.”

Shane blinks at his still-clothed legs, then shrugs mentally, shedding his own pajama pants and underwear before settling again with the lube. Ryan looks more awake now, more alert, watching as Shane fiddles with the bottle. Shane sort of sits beside of him, easing one of Ryan’s legs up onto his thigh; then deposits some of the fluid onto his fingertips, smearing it.

He watches his fiance’s face as his fingers move in, watching for any sort of reaction–regret, changing his mind, anything. But Ryan is just holding his breath until a slick finger meets his entrance. “Breathe, baby,” Shane reminds him; and Ryan releases a breath, colored with a pleased groan. This part is always fun to Shane: working the other open so he relaxes more, and pushing the needy sounds out of him. As Shane sets a steady pace with his one finger, Ryan arches his back, the beautiful series of noises only just beginning to amp up.

The bottle is stolen, and then Ryan is clumsily squeezing a little bit of lube onto his palm. Shane is curious until said palm is closed around his own length. He sucks in a breath and bites his lip, relishing the unexpected sensation. This isn’t the first time Ryan has ever done this; but it’s a clear show of the emotion driving them tonight. Give and take, ebb and flow, two parts to a team.

A second finger finds its way inside of Ryan, and he tosses his head back with a keen; it also causes him to deliver a nice squeeze to Shane’s cock; which, in turn, earns a grunt from Shane. “Fuck, Ry…” He gets a needy moan in reply from Ryan who’s doing his best to keep pumping, to make this a fair exchange.

Three fingers means a deep groan and a hand loosening from its grip on Shane’s girth. This whole time, Shane has been purposely avoiding the prostate, just to make Ryan needier, and make it really count when Shane gives him what he wants.

“Shane… Please… I think I’m ready,” Ryan manages breathlessly and pleading. Shane knows Ryan would take his length as soon as possible if he didn’t need working and easing open. They’ve tried it before but Ryan is too tense by default to allow that. It’s been enough this time, though, that Shane wordlessly agrees and adjusts so he’s in between Ryan’s legs.

“Sit up a second.” Ryan obeys, and Shane reaches to do a little pillow adjusting so Ryan has a little more support. “Alright.” The younger leans back onto the prop and wraps his legs around the older man, looking up at him with so much trust in his eyes. Shane first positions himself so he can guide his cock and carefully push the head inside of Ryan. Ryan gasps, and Shane murmurs a reminder to breathe.

That’s something that happens a lot, no matter what they’re doing. Ryan forgets to breathe, and Shane gently reminds him.

Shane slowly pushes all the way in, a groan bubbling up inside of Ryan’s chest and throat the whole time. Until finally Shane is in and Ryan is panting as he tries to remember to breathe.

“Alright?” Shane murmurs, barely audible, as he sweeps affectionate fingertips across Ryan’s face. He gets a quick little nod in reply, followed by a rough swallow. “Mkay. Gonna move.” Shane’s hands find Ryan’s and pin them down onto the bed, on either side of Ryan’s little pillow prop. He slowly pulls out about halfway, then starts a rhythm with his hips.

“Shane–” Ryan is immediately whimpering in pleasure and need, tilting his chin back and displaying the marks that Shane made earlier. He’s a work of art. “Shane, fuck, please–”

“I gotcha, baby.” He picks up the pace a little bit. Anything for Ryan. This is enough to make Ryan’s cries rise in volume. Shane has been admiring the younger man the whole time; and when Ryan’s chin tilts back down, their eyes meet, and it feels like they’re worshipping each other, wrapped up and entangled in each other, nothing else and nobody else in the entire goddamn universe.

“Oh god, Shane…” “I know, Ry. I know, baby.”

Shane leans down and indulges them both in an open mouthed kiss. He drinks the whines and moans right out of Ryan’s mouth when he switches it up for a suddenly much faster pace. Kissing doesn’t last long though, and Ryan is tilting his head back once again, crying out louder and louder as Shane hits his prostate, again and again. Shane hammers into him, his face tucked against the younger man’s neck.

Shane normally doesn’t let himself get sappy about sex unless Ryan has dragged the sap in; but this is divine, and he’s determined to come up with some awful metaphor later about Ryan being the gospel he wants to preach.

He tells himself he’s thinking too much, like Ryan always does.

Oh, Ryan…

Perfectly imperfect Ryan, always so bursting with emotion, trying to pent some of it up, but ending up so tense. He teases Shane for his less emotional ways, but finds his own unbridled feelings to be a curse. Shane is glad, at least, to have this gorgeous man under him, crying out with every thrust, not thinking about anything else, just loosening up for a little while.

“Shane, please, I’m so close!–” It pulls Shane out of his weird reverie that might have lasted a little too long, and he realizes that the pace of his hips might have faltered.

“C’mon, Ryan,” he breathes in urging, lips meeting the younger man’s neck again, then his lips, pulling out more sounds as he slams into the younger. Pleads seem to be on the tip of Ryan’s tongue, judging by the way he moves his lips, almost forming words that never quite come out.

When Ryan gasps softly, that’s when Shane knows he’s successful. The whole emotional buildup of the day has more easily brought them close to the edge. It’s understandable enough. The dick and the heart are connected in…some way or other. Shane keeps fucking Ryan slowly through Ryan’s climax, making sure to ease him down from the high. Shane hasn’t finished yet, and Ryan realizes this once he has finished spilling onto his own stomach. The younger man grips the older’s hands a little more tightly, both sets still bearing down on the bed; and he squeezes around Shane’s length just a little, obviously trying to help him finish.

The encouragement is useful, and Shane stills as he comes, still deep inside the other; Ryan, still sensitive, bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. They both enjoy this feeling a little too much.

“I love you, Ryan,” Shane breathes, all but panting. Ryan opens his eyes, all big and shiny and loving; and moves his hands from under Shane’s grip so he can hold other man’s face.

“I love you too, big guy.” The kiss they share is all too sweet and loving for what just transpired; but with them, everything is always about extremes.

When they untangle from each other, cleaning up is a regular chore, an automatic process. Ryan wants to do it since he thinks Shane might be hurting from the pinning down thing; but Shane insists on his regular duty. There’s no real argument–it doesn’t matter who does it, as long as it gets done, and Shane makes it happen.

Ryan is already curled up under the covers when Shane slips back into the bed. The expression on the younger man’s face is untraceable–he looks blissed out, maybe full of adoration, but for once Shane can’t tell what’s going on in his head. He figures that once he’s taken the big spoon position, words will come out.

“That was…wow. Intense,” Ryan practically whispers when he feels Shane’s arm locking around his middle.

The older man kisses his fiance’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“The feelings, I guess,” Ryan answers with that laugh he uses when he’s embarrassed with his own feelings.

“Don’t worry. I was feeling feelings too.”

“Like how much–” “Like how much I love you,” Shane cuts him off before Ryan can come out with some jokey insult. Ryan blushes just a little; Shane has been pretty straightforward with his own feelings today. A rare occurrence, a Bigfoot joke waiting to happen. He knows that Ryan feels reassurance when he talks about feelings too, that Ryan isn’t just crazy and that it’s all one-sided.

(And why in hell would it ever be one-sided? Even if Shane doesn’t often say things that suggest it, he privately worships Ryan, loves him with his whole being, would do absolutely anything for the man. He hates that Ryan still doubts himself. Or Shane’s ability to love him.)

“I hope you save some of that for later, Mister Madej. I’d hate for the marriage to go unconsummated.” Ryan breathes out a laugh, clinging onto the arm protectively holding him.

Shane tuts. “First you want me dead, now you’re already thinking about married sex. Is this some sort of ruse? Has the plan the entire time just been you wanting to re-enact Ghost? Is that what you’ve been aiming for this whole time, after all these years?”

Ryan laughs, and Shane smiles, nuzzling and kissing the nape of the younger man’s neck. “I don’t think ghost sex would give me anywhere near the kind of warmth I experience with you, at any given time.” Ryan looks over his shoulder with love in his eyes; he’s probably implying more than just physical warmth. “Also a ghost would be a total boner kill, so.” They snicker together, the arm around Ryan tightening even more. Ryan is clearly the perfect match for Shane, the older man thinks.

#shyan #bfu #i love you more series #i stayed up until 4 to post this garbage hi #skeptic believer

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sapphyrelily · 6 years

Text

Seijoh 4 Week Day 7

LMAO GUYS THIS IS FOR SEIJOH4WEEK 2016, AM I LATE OR WHAT

Prompt: Secret Agent AU

Warnings: Minor character death

External link: AO3

The tall brunet hoisted his backpack higher onto his shoulder and smiled grimly.

Deep breath. Cheery smile. You can do this.

His posture slackened, relaxed into the easy-going gait of a confident, cocky teenager.

He stepped forward, through the gates of Aoba Jousai High School.

x.x.x.x.x

A short, muscular boy picked up a ball and served it over the net. It hit the floor cleanly, the first bounce echoing with a note of finality.

He grinned, a feral, wild thing, and picked up another ball.

x.x.x.x.x

A tall, sleepy-looking boy prowled the halls, eyes sharp beneath hooded lids. He stopped in front of the trophy case, looking at the awards with an almost bored expression.

His gaze landed on an award – no, just an honourable mention – and he smiled slowly, the gears in his head beginning to turn.

x.x.x.x.x

A pink-haired boy sat on the roof, looking out over the field as he munched on a profiterole. His eyes glinted as he spotted a small, beat-up car drive into the school’s parking lot and park at the far end.

He popped the rest of the pastry into his mouth and licked his fingers clean, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

x.x.x.x.x

“Class, we have a new member today. Please welcome him.”

The tall brunet stepped forward and flashed a peace sign, winking with his tongue stuck out.

“Nice to meet you! The name’s Oikawa Tooru.”

x.x.x.x.x

“We’ve got some new members today.”

“Oh? I thought the club wasn’t accepting new applications.”

“Special case. Their transfers got delayed, but they actually made it into Aoba Jousai last year.”

“A whole year’s delay?! That’s crazy!”

“I know right? But I hear they are super strong. The volleyball club will make it to Nationals this time for sure!”

“Nice. Who are they?”

“Wow, you really don’t know? The amazing setter from Karasuno, the middle blocker from Nekoma and the wing spiker from Fukurodani. Add them to our ace stolen from Shiratorizawa, and we’ll have the best team this year!”

“Wait a minute… Those are the guys?!”

“None other.”

The second year duo turned to eye their ace, who was practising his serves on the other court.

The ball hit the court with pinpoint accuracy, power ringing in the way it slammed against the floor.

“Seems like we’re going to have a very interesting year.”

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa’s eyes flicked left and right, seizing up the members of the volleyball team. He had but one mission, but it couldn’t be completed unless he set the groundwork right.

Spotting the ace of Aoba Jousai, he bounded over and threw an arm over the boy’s neck. “Hey, you’re the ace right? Can I set to you sometime?”

The boy glared at him, and though it looked mostly harmless, he detected a sliver of steel in his gaze. “You’re the new guy. Oikawa.”

Oikawa threw up a peace sign. “That’s me!” His arm dropped, as did his casual expression. “Come now, let me set a few balls for you. I want to see how well we can work together.”

The boy raised an eyebrow – half-amused, half-thoughtful. “Very well. Let’s see how you hold up.”

He shrugged Oikawa’s arm off his shoulder, bowing shortly. “My name is Iwaizumi Hajime. Let’s play well together.”

Oikawa hid the glint in his eye. “Oikawa Tooru. Let’s play well together.”

Show me your weakness, and the best way I can kill you.

x.x.x.x.x

Iwaizumi slammed the ball down, only for it to be blocked by the new middle blocker. The ball flew over his head, and was sent back up into the air by Watari. He called for another ball, Oikawa setting it to the perfect height. He spiked the ball again, this time at an angle that the middle blocker couldn’t catch.

The ball hit the court, and his team let out a whoop of celebration. The opposing team's middle blocker laughed lowly, the sound almost dangerous. But when Iwaizumi turned back, the boy's expression had not changed. He still looked sleepy and uninterested, except for the faintest quirk of his lip that betrayed his amusement.

“Your spikes have a lot of power. What’s your name?”

Iwaizumi's eyebrows went up. He told him his name. The middle blocker's mouth popped open. “Shiratorizawa’s other ace?”

Iwaizumi bristled. “I’m Aoba Jousai’s ace now.”

The boy chuckled. “Of course, of course. You’re famous, you know. Would you happen to know of me, spotlight boy?”

It was a stupid nickname, and Iwaizumi felt his temper rise. “No, can’t say I have.”

The boy clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, that’s a pity.” He grinned ferociously, eyes brimming with bloodlust. It was but a momentary flash, and then he looked bored again.

“My name is Matsukawa Issei. Let’s work well together.”

x.x.x.x.x

The strawberry blond darted out, sinking into a crouch and sending the ball back to the setter. “Alright!”

“Nice!”

“Left!”

“Open!” It was him again, darting out from the back for a pipe attack, hitting the ball hard enough that it glanced off the opposing receiver’s arms.

“Nice kill.” Matsukawa walked up to him, extending a hand for a high-five. The boy slapped it, the impact sharp with how brief it was. He grinned lazily, canines flashing provocatively.

“Thanks. I like how you block. I’m Hanamaki Takahiro.

“Let’s work well together.”

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa set off for home with Iwaizumi. Turns out, they lived in the same direction. He hid his grin in the darkness, pulling out his other persona and teasing Iwaizumi cheerfully.

The ace barely responded except to scoff at him and push him away for ‘being too familiar'. Oikawa pouted.

“But I want us to be familiar!”

“Well, I don't.”

Oikawa continued jabbering excitedly, as if he didn’t notice the bite in his tone. “I need to give you a nickname if we’re going to be more familiar! Hmm, let’s see… I know! I’ll call you ‘Iwa-chan’!”

“That’s so childish. No. I refuse.”

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan~”

“Shut up, you– You– Shittykawa!”

Oikawa was properly stunned for a moment. “Iwa-chan, that’s so mean!”

“It’s nicer than you deserve, Assikawa!”

“Mean! Meanie Iwa-chan!”

“Gah! Leave me alone!”

Iwaizumi threw the volleyball in his hands at his head, using a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. Oikawa’s head was completely thrown forward, though he kept his feet.

There were many things running through Iwaizumi’s mind, but his primary thought was: Oh, shit.

Did I kill him?

Damn it, he’s a civilian!

But Oikawa straightened up after a beat, clutching the back of his head and whining about mean Iwa-chan and are you trying to kill me?

Iwaizumi threw the ball at him again.

But later, much later, when he was writing his report for the day, he thought back, and wondered, how did I not kill him?

Iwaizumi Hajime knew his own strength. He knew his limits, and his accomplishments.

And he knew, that that ball should have been enough to kill Oikawa, or at least give him a concussion.

Yet the boy had walked away with nothing more than a throbbing skull – not even a headache.

Either Oikawa Tooru was exceptionally hard-headed, or he was something else. Someone special.

Iwaizumi made a note of it on a sticky pad, but did not put it in his report.

He wanted more evidence first.

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa slipped into the soundproof room, picking up the secure phone and dialling the lone number in the contact list. It rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Suga-chan. Nice to hear from you.” Oikawa greeted cordially, less cheerful persona and more of his ruthless nature.

Suga chuckled. “You called me, not the other way around. But formalities aside, how was your first day?”

Oikawa toyed with a throwing star, turning to face the corkboard. “I scouted out the school, memorised the escape routes. I’ve identified the target, though getting him alone will be a bit of a problem. He’s got a bodyguard.”

“Oh?” The sound of a pencil scribbling could be heard over the line. “Does the bodyguard pose an issue?”

“Yes, actually.” Oikawa paused, lifted his hand and threw the star. It hit bull’s-eye with uncanny accuracy. “Iwaizumi Hajime, Year 3 Class 5. Captain of the volleyball club, has a devastating serve. He almost killed me tonight.”

“What?!” The sound of the chair overturning made Oikawa grin. Toying with Suga was always so much fun. “Why didn’t you report this?!”

“Because I’m still alive.” Oikawa told him. “It’s that simple, isn’t it?”

He walked to the table, picked up another star. “I don’t think he did it on purpose. But he might suspect something about me now. That hit I took was really powerful.”

“Where are you injured?”

“I took a volleyball to the back of my head. It’s all good.”

“That is not ‘good’, Oikawa! You might have brain damage!”

“Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Oikawa grinned, a feral twist of his lips. “Oh, and Suga-chan?”

“What?” Suga sounded weary.

“Look into the transfers from Nekoma and Fukurodani for me. They seem normal, but three transfers at once is way too suspicious.”

“…the information will be in your inbox tomorrow morning.”

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa plugged his headphones into his 3DS before slotting a special cartridge in. He booted up the device and slid the headphones over his ears, tapping the correct code to get into the chatroom.

A series of beeps and bloops greeted him, and he quickly pressed several buttons, sending back a garbled message of his own.

A thumbs-up icon appeared on his screen, as did two familiar faces. Matsukawa grinned, typing out a salutation. He might have had amazing technology, but that didn’t include a microphone function – necessary precautions, for fear of being overheard. Besides, as of yet, no one had managed to crack one of Kenma's codes. He was perfectly safe.

On the screen, Kuroo mimed out a series of actions while Kenma typed out what he was saying. The sign language was faster to read than the code, but Matsukawa waited until the message had been fully received before typing out his own response.

He was unable to convey his excitement and findings fully through code, so he put the 3DS down and began miming rapidly, counting on Kenma to transcribe his words.

Kuroo's jaw dropped as he related his story, shaking his head grimly. He mimed back a question, and Matsukawa shrugged. He picked up the gaming device and tapped out his words, nodding seriously when the duo looked at him for confirmation.

Kuroo and Kenma exchanged a look, before sighing and sending a message of approval. Matsukawa's sleepy visage fell away when he was notified, a look of determined, intense concentration replacing it. He nodded shortly and signed off with a promise to check in again soon.

He ejected the cartridge and set it in a safe spot, then pulled out a toolbox and implements.

He had work to do.

x.x.x.x.x

Hanamaki leaned out of his window, hooting a five-tone call. Within seconds, a bird threw itself out of a tree, flapping steadily towards him.

He stepped aside to let it into his room, tapping it on the head trice to deactivate it. Then he reached for its belly, detaching the plate and setting it flat to peer into the cavity.

A small scroll was inside it, and he eagerly read the messy handwriting, followed by the neat lines of his instructions. He allowed himself a small grin as he read about their antics, then set a lighter to the note, having already memorised the instructions. After blowing the ashes out of the window, he grabbed a paper from a compartment in the bird’s belly and began penning his report.

Brief report complete, Hanamaki slipped it into the bird’s cavity, then spoke to it with a different bird call. The bird woke up and shifted from foot to foot before launching itself out of the window for the long distance trip to Tokyo.

Hanamaki smiled up at the moon, fingers tracing his hidden throwing knives. Then he turned around and began planning his next move.

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa padded round the side of the gym, slipping in through a window that he had oiled previously. It was 3 a.m., and most civilians were asleep. There were bound to be a few night owls, but no student would enter the school compound at night.

Prowling about the gym in the dark with nothing but the blueprint of the building in his head for guidance, he reached the front door with no interruptions, and began setting up his first distraction.

Once that was complete, he went to the storage room and positioned a small bomb under a stack of precariously stacked equipment. A trigger wire was set up from the equipment to the mops, so that anyone who picked up a mop would set off the bomb.

Several harmless light and smoke bombs went around the gym next, hidden in crevices or along walls, easily camouflaged but invisible to the untrained eye.

His final distraction went into the shower area, hooked up to pipes and attached to the ceiling.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he quietly crept from the gym, making sure to sweep the dust from his entry point away.

x.x.x.x.x

Iwaizumi was in shock when he opened the gym the next morning.

The moment he unlocked and pushed open the gym doors, there were several loud popping sounds, and a storm of something light and grainy rained from the ceiling, spreading out to cover what he assumed was the entire gym. He looked at the settling dust in horror before his training kicked in and he bent down to inspect it.

It was still fairly dark outside, and the light switches were all the way at the other side of the gym. In order to get to them, he would have to pass through the cloud of dust, and he still had no idea what type of dust it was. Logically speaking, it should be nothing more than a stupid prank, but what sort of prank involved such huge amounts of whatever this was?

(What if it wasn’t a prank, and the dust was flammable or explosive?)

He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, sweeping the light over the gym floor. Shiny specks winked up at him, blue and red and green, gold and silver and pink; a whole assortment of colours spread in little hills over the wood.

He pressed his hands to his face, grinding out a weird sound that was a mix of a groan and a growl.

Glitter. Someone had glitter bombed their gym.

When he found that person, they were dead to him. And then the coach could have his turn at killing them.

Oh, no.

What if Coach found out?

He picked up his bag and dove into the gym, kicking up flurries of glitter as he ran for the light switches.

He hoped the rest of the team got there soon. They had a lot of work to do if they wanted to clean up the mess before the coach arrived.

x.x.x.x.x

Hanamaki entered the gym and let out a bark of delighted laugher.

Whoever had planned this was a genius.

He was by no means late, but half the regulars were already present, staring at the sands of glitter covering the court and doing nothing about it.

When his instructions said that he would be getting a distraction, he had not expected it to come so soon. Nor had he expected it to be so enjoyable.

From the far end of the gym, Iwaizumi yelled, something about get your asses here and help, before Coach comes in and we all die.

It wasn’t the most motivational of speeches, but everyone scrambled to dump their bags in a corner and slip their trackpants and jackets off before running across the glitter to the storeroom.

He did the same, although at a much slower pace, drawing faces in the glitter but hardly disturbing it. He didn’t want to get any glitter on his clothes, because knowing the way Fukurodani and their allies worked, there was bound to be something else besides glitter in the mix. He didn’t intend on being the one to find out what it was.

He dropped his bag and removed his outerwear at a snail’s pace, watching an increasingly frazzled Iwaizumi try to knock the team into a reasonable cleaning squad. The captain was preoccupied and seemed like he had not noticed him, so he slipped out of the gym and headed for the staff room.

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa diverted his path the moment he got the news.

He wasn’t sure how Suga knew, but his new instructions were to complete his mission ASAP, now that someone had kindly provided a distraction.

Get in, get out. Easy.

It probably wasn’t.

The target was by no means a stupid man. He could not have evaded so many people over the years unless he had some sort of backup and game plan in mind, and that meant more factors had to be considered.

For instance, he could not have been so stupid as to leave the information lying around at his place of work, though the best place to hide something was in plain sight. However, without any extra intelligence, Oikawa had to start somewhere and this was the obvious option.

He wasn’t all that fond of this part of the job.

The staff room door was locked, but a few jiggles with his lock-picking set and he was in. He left the door closed but unlocked for a quick exit later on, and began searching for the target’s desk.

He had just found the desk and noted its position when he heard the door open. He dropped and rolled under the table, quickly sitting up and scooting over to the adjoining teacher’s desk.

The person who opened the door was silent, their footsteps inaudible, if they were moving at all. Yet every now and then he heard the scrape of a chair as it was pulled out and pushed back in, and he grew faint as he realised what it meant.

They knew there was someone in the room with them.

Damnit, he should have locked that door.

He listened more carefully, straining his ears to check the direction that the sounds were coming from. They sounded a ways off, going in the opposite direction from the table he was situated under. But that did not mean that he could move, for the person would surely see him.

He wondered how the bodyguard or the target had managed to lock on to him so quickly.

There was a slight creak, and Oikawa’s heart stopped.

A new set of feet stepped in. The door slid shut and the latch turned.

He wasn’t sure he remembered how to breathe anymore.

He was locked in a room with two people who could potentially kill him, and the best he had were a dozen shuriken and his lock-picking set.

He was doomed.

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa had just managed to wedge himself under a table when he heard the footsteps stop and open the staff room door. He slowly twisted the revolving chair so that it was straight again, breathing as shallowly as he could.

He heard the door click shut, and the latch turn.

Oh, for the love of mercy.

Now he was trapped in a room with somebody who knew what they were doing.

He only hoped that it was his supposed ally, the mysterious one that Kuroo and Kenma confirmed was the best.

He braced his hand on the cabinet next to him, feeling the cool metal under his fingertips. His index finger got caught in a little groove and he traced it absentmindedly, wondering which teacher would knowingly deface school property.

His hand stilled. Trailed back up to the start of the grooves and started reading the words carved into the metal.

He could hear footsteps not two rows down from him, but he couldn’t help it; a big smile split his face.

x.x.x.x.x

Hanamaki took a deep breath after he closed and locked the door. He could taste the disturbance in the air, the displacement of stale molecules as someone rushed to hide. Standing stock-still, he listened carefully, slowing the thump of his heart.

Somewhere in the room, fabric rustled.

He grinned and twisted in the direction of the noise, inhaling deeply. The air in that direction was undisturbed, but he could almost smell the tang of fear riding on the dust motes.

He licked his lips; a subconscious reflex. Lifted his foot in the direction of the hidden person, but paused.

Who would be in the staff room this early, and not turn on the lights?

Surely not the target.

He cocked his head, thinking.

He supposed it could be his ally.

He didn’t think he would meet them so early in the game, but it didn’t hurt to seek them out and bend them to his wishes.

Hanamaki tucked his sinister smile away and padded towards the source of the sound.

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa was close to passing out.

The footsteps were loud, almost thundering, as if the person knew he was there and was announcing their presence.

The footsteps were ten steps away. Eight. Six. Four.

The chair of the table was pulled out, and a light shone on his face.

He immediately threw his hands up to protect his eyes, and heard the person bark a surprised laugh. “Oikawa?”

He knew that voice.

“Makki?” He lowered his hands, squinting against the light. “What are you doing here?”

Suga’s report said nothing about him being an agent. In fact, it said that he was clean.

He was definitely going to have some words with Sugawara Koushi later.

(If he survived until later.)

“I could ask you the same.” Hanamaki's tone dipped, taking on a dangerous edge. “I don’t suppose you’re looking for dust bunnies under that desk?”

“Dust bunny breeding is all the rage now, you know.” Oikawa crossed his arms, glaring back defiantly and refusing to be cowed. He was at a disadvantage, but until he knew what Hanamaki was there for, he couldn’t leave. “Maybe I was looking for better techniques on how to cultivate my dust bunny farm.”

Hanamaki snorted, but he stepped back, opening up an escape route. “Fine then. Don’t tell me what you were doing under Ayame-sensei's desk.”

Oikawa scrambled to get out, dusting the dirt from his pants. “Well, if you must know, she doesn’t have any porn magazines.”

Hanamaki’s eyes glinted. “None at all? How’d you get into her cabinet?”

Oikawa's heart stopped. Damn, I set myself up for that one.

He laughed nervously. “My dad taught me how to pick a lock. Said it was an important life skill.”

“Wow. Nice dad. Is that where your lock pick set from?”

Oikawa’s heart plummeted when he saw his set in Hanamaki’s hands. “Yeah. It started out as a skill, but it’s kind of fun as a hobby. The more difficult a lock, the greater the challenge, you know?”

“Hmm. I think I do.” Hanamaki flipped the box over and over in his hands, suddenly tossing it at Oikawa. “Since you like a challenge, open these drawers for me.” His finger pointed to the target’s desk.

Oikawa snatched the box out of the air, fumbling a little. He hoped that Hanamaki thought he was just a random trespasser, and that the fumble was a sign of nervousness. “Okay? Aren’t these locks just the same as the rest of them, though? I already opened Ayame-sensei’s cabinet, why do I need to open another?”

“Just open it for me before someone comes looking for us.” The threat in his voice was unmistakable, and Oikawa unintentionally let out a squeak as he hurried to comply.

As he picked out the correct implements for the lock, he asked a little hesitantly, “Whose drawer is this that I’m picking?”

Hanamaki hummed. “Coach Irihata’s.”

Oikawa intentionally dropped one of the metal tools. “What? Coach's? What are you looking for?”

“None of your business, hotshot. I told you one thing, now hurry up.”

Oikawa grumbled. “At least let me look inside when I crack it. He’s bound to have some volleyball strategies in there and I want them.”

Hanamaki laughed. “You can have anything you want after I look through it.”

Oikawa was about to retort when he felt the final tumbler click into place, the lock disengaging. Hands were on his shoulders and pushing him away before he had time to protest, and when he looked up, Hanamaki was already digging through the drawer, papers rustling noisily.

A surge of anger rose in him – he was being beaten by a rival to the information. It wasn’t as if Hanamaki would find anything of use, but he did not like being one-upped by anyone. Not. At. All.

(He hated acting so fake, so shallow and dumb. If he was allowed to be ruthless, he wouldn’t have to put up with Hanamaki’s whims.)

“Open the next drawer while I look at these.”

Oikawa couldn’t help himself.

“Am I your servant, Makki?”

A whoosh of air, and there was a handle pressing into his throat. Oikawa didn’t dare to swallow. That would be a sign of weakness. Hanamaki smiled cordially, but his eyes were hard.

“Don’t mistake us for friends, Oikawa. I don’t know what you’re doing in here when you obviously don’t know what you’re doing, but I suppose I could let it go if this is just a prank. But if you’re after something else…”

Oikawa hardened his features into a scowl and smacked the torchlight away from his throat. “Now you’re just being weird, Makki. Of course it’s just a prank. Ayame-sensei is the hottest teacher in the whole school, and I was elected to look through her stuff. Why are you acting like it’s a life or death situation to get into Coach’s drawers?”

Hanamaki stared at him for a long moment before smiling sweetly. “None of your business. Keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine. Unlock the rest of the drawers for me, then take your volleyball strategies and go.”

“I’ll need to relock those drawers if you don’t want Coach finding out we’ve been in here.” Oikawa refused to budge, putting on his ‘scared but determined face’.

(He hated this.)

(This was begging. He never begged.)

Hanamaki chuckled. “I like your attitude, though your story doesn’t match up. Just unlock the drawers. The bell will ring soon.”

Oikawa glanced at the clock and cursed.

He would have to get his revenge another time.

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa closed the door of the emergency exit behind him, letting it settle slowly so that no sound was made.

He had not expected the first person in the room to be Oikawa, nor had he expected Hanamaki to be the one digging in the target’s desk. He wasn’t sure which one was his ally, and which his rival.

Nevertheless, their squabble had given him enough time to finish deciphering the words carved into the cabinet and make his escape. He was confident that they did not hear him, but Hanamaki had sharper senses than he thought.

The way he moved, his single-minded focus… He was like a bird of prey, honing in on the target and decimating any obstacles in his way.

As he snuck back to the gym, he hoped that his ally managed to get a lead on where the target was hiding the information.

He wasn’t sure that the words he found would be enough.

x.x.x.x.x

Iwaizumi was a ball of anxious energy.

No, not just that. He was panicked. Nervousness was just a small part of it.

He had found the bomb under the pile of equipment right before the juniors came in, and luckily, they had been too distracted by the glitter to notice him disabling it. It was the fastest he had ever disabled one, spurred to quickness by the threat of it exploding and blowing his cover, and also out of fear for the innocents standing barely ten metres away.

He had barely hidden the parts under a ratty old mat (a pity, because the bomb had been beautiful – clean design, easily assembled from household items, no traces of fingerprints whatsoever) when Kindaichi walked in, and he had been so frazzled that he yelled at the poor boy to grab a broom and start sweeping.

That was when he heard the first shout.

He rushed out, only to see Kunimi on his back in the sea of glitter, clutching his face and whimpering. Before he could take five steps, Kindaichi was already halfway to his friend, kicking up clouds of the shiny stuff.

He wanted to tell him to slow down, don’t panic, but then the boy tripped – and a cloud of smoke erupted from where he was standing, throwing even more glitter into the air.

If Iwaizumi had been uptight before, now he was utterly defeated and exasperated.

There was no way he could possibly clear this up before Coach came in.

He needed to report this immediately – and finish his mission as soon as possible.

(Also, he was sure he had more team members than this – where had they all gone?)

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa was almost certain that Coach would cancel practice when he came in and found the gym scattered with glitter, and the team either coughing or sitting in stunned shock with hands over their eyes.

The man did just that, and surprisingly, called the office to give them the day off. He went around to the injured students and carted them off to the sick bay, speaking softly all the while.

Unusually, it was Iwaizumi who looked the most stressed, covered head to toe in glitter and on the verge of pulling his hair out. He almost wanted to go over and reassure him (just to keep up his image) but Suga had warned him not to make skin contact with the glitter if he could.

He glanced over at the other two third years, the only ones in the gym besides him who were not covered in glitter. Hanamaki was sweeping carefully, making sure that the glitter did not fly. Matsukawa was sweeping normally – but he was completely covered up from ankles to wrists. He was also stepping very precisely, as if avoiding certain spots on the ground.

Oikawa was struck by a sudden revelation – could Suga have been wrong twice? Was Matsukawa another rival, trying to get the same information he was after?

He picked up his broom and swept vigorously, short, hard strokes to corral in the finicky grains. He was nothing short of furious, now that Hanamaki had every single paper from the target’s desk, except the volleyball strategies that lay at the bottom of his bag.

He knew he had needed an excuse, but what good were strategies when he was looking for something wholly different?

x.x.x.x.x

Hanamaki tore into the stolen papers the moment he was in a secure location.

It took him an hour to go through all of them, and he nearly set a lighter to them when he found nothing of consequence. Instead, he put them aside neatly, resolving (with great difficulty) to put them back so that the target would suspect less. Coach had left immediately after the fiasco that was morning practice, and he had heard no rumours that he was missing anything of importance, so perhaps he did not go to the staff room.

Tough luck.

He dug in the drawer beside his bed and pulled out his map, mentally calculating the amount of time needed to get to the target’s house. Assuming that the target was still dealing with the aftermath of the ‘gym terrorist', he would have sufficient time to scope out the entire place.

He didn’t have time to waste on sulking. He had a mission to complete.

Anyway, his instructions did say that the target was his first priority. The information could always come later.

x.x.x.x.x

Matsukawa sat in the storage room of the gym, waiting for the janitor to lock up and leave. He waited an extra ten minutes after the final turn of the lock before unfolding himself from the corner and breaking out of the storage room.

He was relatively pleased with himself. Though the bomb in the storage room had been diffused, no one had yet noticed his surprise in the showers.

The distraction that morning had been good but insufficient; nobody seemed to be badly injured enough to warrant the target taking action.

He was curious though. There were quite a few individuals who were completely covered in glitter – surely the effects had manifested already? He knew the target had acquired quite a layer of glitter as well when he brought the stunned boys to the sick bay. Too bad he had been wearing a full length tracksuit, but Matsukawa hoped that some had gotten onto his exposed skin. He had been helping the injured boys – surely some would have gotten on his palms.

Although Matsukawa wasn’t that a ruthless person by nature, the ‘gift’ mixed into the glitter was by no means mild. There were supposed to be casualties, and he had to school himself into an uncaring state.

(He did care, despite it all. Most of the boys were innocents.)

(The target was, well, the target. The one person who should be affected by the glitter.)

Putting the thought out of mind for the moment, he treaded carefully across the freshly cleaned floor, reaching the ladder and hoisting himself up onto the balcony. Left turn, fifteen steps forward, sidestep to the right, hands on the railing – there.

Another groove, another set of words carved into metal, a breadcrumb trail for him to follow. He wondered if it was a set-up. Why would anyone leave notes – instructions, really – carved into metal, permanent reminders of how and where to find him?

He wondered why the words weren't in sequence this time. The first had been marked out with one, a bullet point, the start of a list, the first instruction, the beginning of the set. That was what he thought it to be, for it made sense.

Yet, here it was marked again with one, a set of directions next to it.

He wondered if the target had a thing for the number one, or if he labelled all his instructions with one, just to throw them off his trail. He shrugged to himself and descended the ladder, sneaking out of the window.

He had the next location, the next breadcrumb to look for, and he would see it through, even if the trail was false.

x.x.x.x.x

Iwaizumi stopped in front of a simple house, knocking politely on the door before going in. Leaving his bag and shoes in the foyer, he approached a room in the back, knocking lightly to announce his presence.

Ushijima sat with his back to him, staring absentmindedly at a row of potted plants on his windowsill. “Iwaizumi. Why are you knocking so hard?”

Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow at his back, then grimaced at the action. “I didn’t think I was knocking that hard.”

“You were,” Ushijima confirmed, spinning his chair round to face him. His eyebrows shot up, and Iwaizumi would have laughed had his head not hurt so much. “You look terrible.”

Iwaizumi sat down heavily, placing his head on his knees. “I feel terrible. I’ve got a huge headache and my skin feels funny. I came here right after they let us go.”

“What happened?”

Iwaizumi told him. Or at least, he tried to. His head was swimming, and the pinpricks on his skin were distracting. Ushijima stopped him after a few more nonsensical sentences.

“Tell me about the glitter and what you felt after touching it.”

“Stinging, tingling, shiny, glittery, hmm, I don’t know.” Iwaizumi poked absentmindedly at his arm. “I can’t feel my skin if I touch it anymore.”

Ushijima’s eyes narrowed, and he quickly pulled on a pair of gloves from a box near his window. “How much glitter were you covered in? Was there any green glitter?”

“Covered like well-marinated steak. Lots of green glitter.” Iwaizumi frowned at the swimming floor. “Not all the glitter was shiny. Some green glitter wasn’t shiny. Matte? Is that what it’s called?”

Ushijima came over and crouched next to Iwaizumi. “Did you collect any glitter for me?”

Iwaizumi brightened and lifted his head, before moaning and setting it back down. “Yeah. My bag. Got you the funny green glitter.”

He felt the presence beside him leave, heard Ushijima unzip his bag and take out something. There were some sounds of clinking and pouring, so Iwaizumi settled himself in for a nap.

The next thing he felt was himself being shaken awake, his jacket stripped off and a cold swab on his upper arm. He barely felt the sting of the needle as it went into his arm, only making a questioning noise when it was pulled out.

“Aconitum poisoning. Wolfsbane. You’re lucky you’re still alive. I’m calling your coach. He needs to know that his students have been poisoned.”

Something about that struck odd with Iwaizumi, and he reached out to Ushijima, but his arm fell short of its target, his muscles too weak. “Coach was shiny too.”

“What?” Ushijima was back next to him, slapping his face lightly when his eyes kept crossing. “Iwaizumi, focus. Did Irihata touch the glitter?”

Iwaizumi nodded blearily. “Poor Kunimi and Kindaichi and Watari and Yahaba and Kyoutani…” He continued rambling under his breath, while Ushijima grabbed his phone and placed several frantic calls, the first being to their boss.

“Washijou-sama. We have a compromised agent.”

x.x.x.x.x

Oikawa pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear as he flipped through his stolen papers, half-tuning out Suga’s scolding.

“…could have gotten yourself exposed, or worse, killed! Tooru! Are you listening to me?!”

“Yes, mom,” he answered dutifully. Suga sighed, his anger and exasperation clear even through the phone.

“Honestly, Oikawa. You were supposed to avoid the Fukurodani and Nekoma kids for precisely this reason.”

“How was I supposed to know that the Tokyo schools train agents too?!”

“They could be assassins, not agents.” Suga pointed out. “Now what was it you risked your life for?”

“Nothing.” Oikawa said sulkily. “Hanamaki took most of the documents and I was acting stupid so all I got were volleyball strategies.” His eyes are suddenly drawn to a hand drawn box in the notes. “Hold the thought, there’s something here.”

Oikawa skimmed through the rest of the notes, finding more and more pockets of information. Practically every page had a little box, shaded in pencil and containing the exact type of information he was looking for. Oikawa felt a little thrill replace his gloominess. “Suga-chan, I got it. I got the info.”

“What? You just said you got nothing!”

“Well, I thought wrong.” A satisfied grin crept over his face, and he did a mini victory dance in the middle of the room. Take that, Hanamaki!

“Within the volleyball notes are these boxes with personal information, traits and specialities in them, as well as the academy they trained at. It’s not compiled properly, but it’s a start. I’ll scan them to you.”

“Excellent work. See, things worked out in the end.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Oikawa told him, leaning against the edge of the table. “This information looks like it’s Shiratorizawa-based only. I’ll have to find the others. There’s bound to be more information on other schools somewhere.”

“That’s the spirit. I’ll be waiting for your email.” The line clicked off, and Oikawa set the phone down, frowning at a sheet of paper in his hands.

Shiratorizawa, huh… I wonder what other lies he’s told.

He placed the sheet on top of the pile and took it to his secure scanner, marking the first sheet as IMPORTANT and IMMEDIATE ATTENTION.

The hastily sketched side profile of a certain ace glared out of the paper, alongside the box of his statistics.

x.x.x.x.x

Hanamaki received a call just before he reached the target’s house.

“Makki!! How are you?”

“On the way to Coach’s house, Bokuto.” He answered cheerfully, ducking into the small grove of trees next to the house. He quickly scaled a tree, settling himself in to keep an eye on the house. “What have you got for me?”

“Ah well, just that Coach says good job! He heard about the Seijou kids’ deaths.”

“Oh?” This was the first time Hanamaki had heard of it. “How did they die?”

“Wolfsbane contact poisoning. That’s a brillia–“ There was murmuring from the end of the line, and Bokuto’s voice drifted away, though not without a scale of complaining. Static crackled in his ear before the sound evened out and a cool, calm voice spoke.

“Good afternoon, Hanamaki-san.”

“Akaashi,” he acknowledged. “Who’s responsible for the deaths?”

Akaashi sounded slightly miffed. “We are still trying to find out. I am certain it was not you, for your mission does not cover the death of anyone besides the target.”

“Damn straight. Who are the casualties?”

“The majority of the volleyball team’s first string. Anyone who was in Aoba Jousai’s second gym today has been affected.”

Hanamaki whistled lowly. Savage. “That’s fast. They were alive just this morning.”

“Wolfsbane poisoning, Hanamaki-san.”

“I know, I know. That stuff is lethal.” He chuckled. “By the way, did you check out the glitter bomb in the gym?”

The second year paused, probably in surprise. “We did not hear of that. We only know that Nekoma was supposed to prepare your distraction, but the details were not disclosed to us.”

So, Matsukawa did it. Hanamaki mused. He was impressed by the other’s skill, if he was being honest with himself.

To slip in wolfsbane and make the target and the innocents touch it… My, the cats sure are vicious.

To Akaashi he said, “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t touch the glitter at all. Nekoma set the trap, and they killed the kids. I’m fine, the Nekoma and Karasuno kids are fine. Shiratorizawa’s ace, however…” He thought of Iwaizumi, his skin pale and drawn, caked in glitter and dripping shiny specks of sweat. “Well. He might not make it.”

Akaashi sounded amused. “How observant.”

Hanamaki would have tossed his hair if it was a) longer, or b) Akaashi could see him. He loved pissing the second year off. “Well, someone has to be. I’m entering the house soon, we can talk later.”

Akaashi made a sound of confirmation. “Bokuto-san, say goodbye. I’m ending the call.”

“BYEEEE!” Bokuto called gleefully. Hanamaki huffed with fondness as the call disconnected, but quickly refocused his attention on the house. He recalled the blueprints he had been given, and mapped out his path mentally.

Two bedrooms and a kitchen and dining area. How terribly boring, though spacious.

He dropped from his tree and approached the house, plastering on an innocent look as he prowled. Nobody came to open the door, so Hanamaki walked up to it casually and poked at the keyhole with his lock-picking set until the door popped open.

There was no sign of glitter-covered shoes in the entryway, so either the target had gotten rid of them, or he had not returned home yet. It was a stupid idea to leave his shoes behind, so he trekked through the house with them on, doing his best to ignore the voice inside his head that was screaming about terrible manners.

He moved methodically from room to room, opening drawers and cabinets, looking in every nook and cranny for the slightest thing that seemed suspicious. There was nothing incriminating in the kitchen or dining area, so he moved to the first room.

It was a small study, lined wall to wall with books of every genre, both fiction and non-fiction. Hanamaki made a beeline for the table at the side of the room, sifting through papers and haphazardly placed stationery, looking for the information.

He found nothing but volleyball related documents on the table, data on teams from other prefectures, data on strategies and tactics, records of matches and things to buy. Hanamaki was getting impatient. He knew the target coached teams for a living, so his notes made sense, but where was the information?

Hanamaki picked up yet another match review, skimming the margins lazily. A jolt went through his body when he saw his name, followed by a list of vital statistics.

He spent a long time staring at it, horror coursing through him when he realised it was accurate. Scanning through the paper quickly, he dug through the mountain of documents, searching for hand-drawn boxes that looked similar to the one in his hand.

One paper. Two. Three and four and five and six– His pile kept growing, the slightest bit of familiar or related information on the sheet causing it to join the haphazardly stacked documents.

Fukurodani. Nekoma. All of our information is here. Shit, shit, shit.

His hands stilled as he read through an entire document, crammed with information.

Our possible recruits list?!

The front door scraped open and Hanamaki jumped up, cursing himself for not paying more attention. He quickly shuffled his pile together, gathering the rest and dumping them under the desk.

There was no sound from outside.

Hanamaki folded the thick stack and stuffed it into his bag, creeping to stand beside the door. He had left it slightly ajar, and now he peered out of it while drawing a deep breath.

His heart thumped too quickly, but he could sense that the air had settled. Whoever had entered was in a different part of the house.

He exhaled shallowly, and pulled the door back.

Thunk.

A shiny shuriken embedded itself in the door, pointed edges gleaming.

Hanamaki reached for the mask hanging around his neck, tugging the fabric over his head. His other hand reached for his throwing knives while he listened, carefully, carefully, ears sharp in case the other made a mistake.

The tiniest exhale, a panicked slip of breath.

He threw the door open with one hand, grabbing the shuriken with his other. Spinning around, he rolled out of the door, noting the other figure’s position and throwing his knife.

A dull thunk had him glancing up again, only to find that he had thrown his knife into some tall piece of furniture.

Movement from the corner of his eye had him tossing the shuriken, cursing to himself as the weapon left his hand wrong. He had never been good with the thin blades, the weight too light for him to control accurately.

He thought he saw the person dive, and took his chance to run, tearing his knife from the furniture – several stacked chairs – as he ran past. His hand ached from the bad angle and the force he used to retrieve his weapon.

A slight disturbance in the air behind him had him diving – a perfect flying receive – before he stood back up and grabbed the doorknob, yanking it open. He twisted the lock as he dodged out and pulled it shut.

There was no one on the street, so he took off at a run, jumping back into the trees. He yanked a shuriken out of the back of his glove and pocketed it, determined to find out whose weapon it was and how he could track them down.

He climbed from tree to tree to make his escape, only dropping back into the street when he found a deserted alley.

He was confused when he stood back up, his bag too light – and looked back to see the white wing of a page float down and descend into a puddle of dirty water. Hanamaki pulled his bag off to find a throwing knife embedded at the base of it, having torn a jagged hole in the side, half its contents gone.

If he were a lesser man, he would have screamed.

x.x.x.x.x

The sun had set a long time ago, and only pedestrians and late night-goers were around. Matsukawa strolled through the park, keeping a careful eye out for any suspicious persons or movements.

He reached the statue in the middle of the park with little fanfare, turning his phone light on to read the words on the plague.

There was nothing unusual, nothing out of place.

He sighed and shut the light off, running his fingers over the plague, then over the body of the pedestal, and even petting down the statue.

Nothing. Nothing apart from dust and accumulated grime, the cracks of age and decay.

A failed mission, then. A false trail.

Perhaps he should have known.

He turned towards the biggest tree and hoisted himself up, fingers digging into the groves on the bark. He was nearly to the top when his hand missed its mark, fingers slipping into air–

–only to crash into a surface a few centimetres below it.

Matsukawa gripped the edge tightly, trying to calm his racing heart. He might have been trained to fall and roll back up, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t terrified of the weightlessness that accompanied it.

Once he had regained control over his breathing, he let his fingers explore, sliding back and forth to map out the emptiness. The light from the streetlamps was too dim to make out anything but the general shape of it, but he figured it must be some sort of hole.

He swung himself towards the other side, relieved to find a branch to perch on. A quick check showed that no one was close to him, so he pulled out his phone and shone its light at the odd phenomenon.

Ah. Just a hollow in the tree.

He leaned close to check what was in there. Some down feathers, a small stash of acorns, a bunch of hay. Probably just a squirrel's home.

…except squirrels didn’t use down feathers to line their nests, and acorns didn’t grow in Japan.

Looks like I got lucky.

He pocketed his phone, bracing himself with one arm against the trunk, his hand reaching into the hollow.

His fingers swept through the fluffy down, knocked over the stacked acorns. The hay was dry and crispy under his hand, a thick layer that he could press his fingers into.

He dug through the pile, sifting the stalks, tossing them to the side. It wasn’t a very big hollow, and he soon reached the bottom of it. It was slightly rough, age and its many past inhabitants smoothing the surface out. But what caught his attention was his finger knocking into something.

He traced its surface, cool and smooth, before pulling it out and stashing it in his pocket. He tried to shift the hay back into its original position, though there was nothing much he could do about the down and the acorns.

He moved back to the safety of the branch and dusted his hands off, looking out for anyone who might be around before descending and making his way home.

Back in the safety of his room, he pulled out the item he had found, searching its metal exterior for a release clasp. There was none, but there was a fine line running round the top of it, so he held his breath and pulled.

The cap came off easily, and he tipped the container over to pour out its contents. A small roll of rice paper fell out, so he put on his gloves before carefully unrolling it.

There were just three words on the crumbling surface.

I got it.

Matsukawa stared at it in confusion. It was signed off the same way the previous messages had began: with one.

He didn’t understand it at all, but one thing was for certain:

Someone had beat him to the information.

x.x.x.x.x

He was dreaming.

He was stuck in a state of suspended reality, mildly aware of his surroundings, but mostly under; drifting, drifting, drifting, closer and closer to the edge of sleep.

It was dark, and he heard the whispers with curious detachment, acknowledging that it was present, but if he tried to focus on it, he forgot it immediately.

He thought he felt a prick on his arm, a cool sense of relief spreading through his body, his heart rate slowing.

Was his heart rate elevated? He had no idea.

He thought he heard voices, one deep and measured, another biting and hysterical.

“He will not die. He must not.”

“I believe he will live.”

“Are you the doctor? No? Then cease your babbling.”

A confused grunt.

“I am merely observing that we have undergone large amounts of poison training. It would take more than this to kill him.”

“He was subject to the effects for several hours before he sought you. How he is still alive is beyond my comprehension.”

“It baffles me as well. But Iwaizumi is strong. He will not let this keep him down.”

He drifted again, promptly forgetting their conversation.

He was on the verge of sleep, close to the edge, but he couldn’t will himself into slumber any more than he could wish himself awake.

He drifted, and dreamt of worried voices and cool latex, broken sobs and fervent prayers.

x.x.x.x.x

“Suga-chan.”

“Yes?”

“The major information is gone, but I have the names from minor schools, the ones who aren’t as established.”

“Good, good. Did you find ours?”

A pause as he worried at his lip. “No,” he said at length. “It wasn’t on any of the papers.”

There was the faint shuffling of papers, the soft whirr of his laptop. “Someone else might have it, then.”

He agreed. “Should I continue to seek it?”

A lengthy silence, one he spent staring at the white envelopes on his table, mind quickly calculating and sorting possibilities.

“No.” He snapped back to attention at that word. “No. If another school has it, there is no point in trying to take it back. We have enough information to quash the smaller groups and to strike an alliance with Shiratorizawa.”

His breath caught in his throat. “An alliance?”

“I am aware you despise them, but they are our major contender. Begin with Miyagi, and then the rest of Japan,” Suga reminded.

Oikawa grumbled but protested nothing. “And my mission?”

“Yet incomplete. Try to get closer to the remaining Seijou students, and pick those with the most potential.”

“The target didn’t make it.” He guessed, and was rewarded by a sigh.

“No. Neither did the ones in the gym today. A pity, they were the best.”

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

x.x.x.x.x

Ruined. Ruined and lost.

He spread the remaining papers across his desk, counting the sheets. Less than half of what he had originally collected, and nothing of great importance either.

His fist came down, back hunched in fury. This was his fault. The shuriken user, the one who had torn his bag and made him lose the information.

Granted, it was information meant to be destroyed, but he had meant to analyse it first, to see what the target had collected. He may have had some observations that they did not make, something that could give them an edge in the game.

Damnit, why did he have to disappear and take all his skills with him? And then he had to set up a safe haven for those with the greatest potential, and prepare data sheets to submit to the government to shut down their organisations.

The sheer audacity made him boil with anger.

His phone rang, the vibration distracting him. He picked it up with a glance at the caller ID, his tone curt and clipped. “Akaashi.”

“Status report.”

“Met with a rival while retrieving the information. They cut short my search, and my bag was broken in the escape. More than half the information is lost.”

There was the lightest of gasps – the most horrified he had ever heard the second year sound. “Anything useful in the remainder?”

“Barely anything. Some recruit names, the ones the smaller schools were going to target. I had the major schools, the major information in hand. And then, that bastard–”

“Calm down, Hanamaki-san. It’s too late now. Save your anger for when you can take down that agent.”

Agent? But of course. It had to be an agent sent after him, because his ally would not have gotten in his way. No assassin would have gotten into his way.

(He was only mildly proud of it, but within the assassin groups, he was one of the best. Nobody who knew him would have tried to mess with him.)

“I’ll run an analysis and try to lift any fingerprints from the weapon I retrieved from the agent. The prints should reach you in an hour or so.” Hanamaki took a deep breath, exhaling through his teeth. “When you’re done… Let me know who I have to take out.”

“Done.”

x.x.x.x.x

The duo on the screen of the 3DS didn’t look impressed, and Matsukawa felt no lack of shame.

He had been close. He had failed.

If someone else who wasn’t an ally got their hands on that information–

It wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain.

His shoulders slumped, and looking back at the duo, he spread his hands out. What now?

The duo looked at each other, and Kuroo signed to him as Kenma typed.

Take down the agents. The remaining ones at Seijou.

Matsukawa nodded, his expression hardening.

Now that, he could do.

x.x.x.x.x

He could barely breathe. Yet he felt his chest rising and falling, and his mouth was impossibly dry. A warmth over his hand was snatched away, a voice accompanying it, growing louder and louder.

“He moved. He moved!”

There was rustling, shuffling, clamouring all around him. His eyelids were so heavy, but he managed to peel them open, just a fraction.

Their blurry faces didn’t register at first, but a few more blinks knocked the information to the forefront of his brain.

He couldn’t say their names, for the obstruction in his throat.

“Someone call Coach. He’s rousing.”

A pattering of feet, a door opening and closing. Iwaizumi looked at the rest of them, trying to ask with his eyes–

What happened? Did we succeed?

Ushijima glanced over at their fellows, and the ash blond stepped forward. “The glitter – the wolfsbane – poisoned you. It’s been two weeks, and you’re lucky to be alive.”

He remembered that much. Being poisoned. Passing out.

(Two weeks was relatively quick, given that no one survived aconitum poisoning.)

Iwaizumi's brows drew in. Another question.

Semi hesitated, and behind him, Reon spoke up. “We lost them. The Seijou kids, Irihata.” He paused, then shook his head. “Coach will want to tell you the rest himself.”

Iwaizumi didn’t want to wait – he needed to know, now.

(The kids were dead. He knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It was still too soon–)

The door opened again, the boys parting to allow Washijou to pass through, Goshiki trailing behind him.

The old man looked him up and down, nodding. “You look good enough. We'll move out in a few hours.”

What?

Washijou must have seen the question on his face, because he sighed. “We’re going into hiding. Wiping all your records, pretending to be a normal school.” He turned his back. “There’s a tape. The boys will show you when we’re on the move.”

x.x.x.x.x

The news had broken so long ago, but he couldn’t stop remembering it. It was like a broken record, going round and round and round in his head.

“The government has been notified that many high schools across the nation have been turned into secret agent training centres. We have a full list of affected schools, but to protect the minors’ identities, we cannot release that information. The individual who had stepped forward with this information has elected to stay anonymous, but rest assured that their contribution has not gone to waste.”

Oikawa hugged his backpack closer, not resisting when an arm snaked around his shoulders.

“I know. I know. It’ll be alright.”

Suga had been repeating that for days, but what would become of them now? They couldn’t possibly go back to school, where the government was sure to catch them and wipe their memories, or kill them all. There was no way out, no second choice, except to run.

“Do we know yet who did it?”

His voice sounded dull and dead, even to himself. If it had been any other situation, he would have laughed. Oikawa prided himself on being unbreakable, but to have to face reality in this way, that everything he had ever known was lost–

It was still too much.

“Sources say it was the assistant coach at Seijou.” Oikawa's eyes flicked over to the speaker, but Daichi wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t looking at anyone, head tilted back against the wall of the truck, eyes closed. “They said that the signal was Irihata's death. That they knew we would come for his information and the ones he rescued.”

Oikawa’s hands tightened into fists. “We should have stopped him.”

“We tried.” Daichi sounded tired. “Everyone did. But he wasn’t called the best for nothing. He wanted to put a stop to the agent program, to the assassin program, and he made it. He just had to make sure the government knew how dangerous it was first.”

“Would that really help? Stopping the programs?” Oikawa was angry now. “They were in place for good reason. In place so that any hostile nations that attacked would not stand, would not be able to gain a foothold. That we could defend ourselves. How is that– How could that have been bad?”

“The casualties,” Suga said quietly. “Anyone who didn’t make it out of the programs. And they also said– 'Let the children have their childhood’.”

“Without the programs, the younger ones wouldn’t even live.” Oikawa countered. “Because we keep them safe, they can grow up, until it’s time for them to become the protectors.”

“The government thinks they know everything.” Daichi replied, eyes finally opening, his resigned gaze meeting Oikawa’s incensed one. “It’s too late. We can’t do anything. They’ll fall to the consequences of their mistakes.”

“And us? What are we going to do? Pretend and hide and let the children die?”

“No. We protect them, from the shadows.” Suga squeezed his shoulder. “That’s the best we can do.”

Oikawa closed his eyes, refusing to let the welling tears fall.

Everything he had ever known – everything, gone, in an instant.

“We’ll make them see reason,” he whispered. “One day, we will establish ourselves again, and we will care for those left behind.”

#seijoh4week #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tooru #matsukawa issei #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#a whole bunch of other schools and characters im not tagging bc there's too many of them #minor character death #my writing

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grizzlefur · 7 years

Text

WWEm - More Like PerestroiKO

Broadcast date: Monday 11/Tuesday 12 September 2017

Brought to you by the function 3x+6 and the cuneiform logogram DIĜIR, this is MONDAY AFTERNOON RAW!

(should have done this earlier, fell asleep, so sue me)

and we're starting with a moment of silence

christ, yeah, it's the 9/11 episode

fun and jokes on my blog today

oh, and a sombre text crawl

great

someone breaks the silence with a woo, usa chants begin

i get the feeling i'm gonna be sighing at america a lot tonight

oh hey, and apparently brock's gonna be here tonight

woooo

and cena/strowman, which should be fun

but for now, here comes the opposite of fun

in the form of roman reigns

oh, and apparently he's fighting jason

good way to get jj over as a face, i guess

he enters, the crowd goes tepid

recap of cena/jordan from last week

that was a good match

and video of the less-good smacktalk session following that match

so now roman gets to put his money where his shit is

if roman loses this, i just want cena to turn up and laugh for ten minutes straight

oh hey, pan out to cena watching the match

preliminary scuffling, punctuated by roman perfecting his scorn laugh

and getting punched in his smug face

booker is getting very excited about roman

well, i guess someone has to

roman cocks his fist, goes for it, jj reverse into a crossface because seriously, fuck that face

pan out again to cena looking deeply dissatisfied

truly, a man of the people

that's what we all look like when roman's winning things

okay, i hate roman reigns and all the things he does, but even i have to admit that samoan drop counter was pretty sweet

but now we're back to jj suplexing him to the underworld, so all is good

corey claims jj is "driven by failure"

truly, the next great renewable energy source

booker magnanimously agrees to stop calling jason a rookie, despite the bit where he was nxt and smackdown tag champ

jason exposes his shoulders (his other fuel source), hits the rolling double northern lights for a nearfall

then crossface for a near finish

booker sarcastically calls jj "what [roman] calls a rookie"

you were calling him that THREE FUCKING MINUTES AGO, YOU COLOSSAL WANKSPONGE

roman bullfights jj really hard into the post, superman punch, goes oooooo, spear for the pin

pan out to cena looking begrudgingly impressed

tense faceoff

roman gives jj the handshake

that'll do, pig

pan out again, and now charly is there

asks cena for his thoughts, he's just like i'm gonna go out there and tell him myself

after this total bellas ad

he didn't say that last part, but i know he understands the value of his wife's brand

(wait, are they marrried yet?)

cena drops his towel on the stage, camera focuses on it for a weirdly long time

forgoes his run to the ring to do a thug strut instead

clearly the camera guy needs to work on their cardio

cena appreciates that

thoughtfully gets two mics before getting into the ring

throws roman one with a comment about his fashion sense

asks for his thoughts, suggests some helpful catchphrases so he doesn't have to talk too long

roman claims to have had more good matches in two years than cena has in his career

cena's just like dude, seriously, stop talking, you're burying yourself

calls him a one-man human centipede

keep it pg, john

cena challenges himself every day to try everything

take that as you will

cena gets up in roman's face about how he's shat the bed on every opportunity available

not inaccurate

roman calls him a bitch

devastating comeback

roman claims to be solely responsible for raw's ticket sales

paul heyman's like um

disparages cena's hollywood aspirations, offers to introduce him to a guy

cena's like at no mercy, consider me like a drug test, you ain't getting past me

crowd goes oooooooooooh

even roman smirks

and swagger off

next up, sasha banks does a thing

after this advert for lesnar/strowman

(and if their compound couple name isn't lensman, i'll punch something)

and another one for cute kids with cancer

(and the prevention of such things)

and now that's all done with, here's sasha

in an even nicer jacket than usual

fighting emma, who doesn't get an intro this time

siiiiiigh

i mean, i hate her new music, but still

oh, and alexa's materialised on announce

and inside the ring, emma has 100% stolen alexa's iron man gear

first the music, then the space cop gear

where will it end

oh hey, here comes nia

who gets her full intro despite being in street clothes and there being a fucking match in progress

cut to ads, and when we get back nia's got a seat on announce too

like oh hey guys don't mind me

oh, there's still a match happening

who knew

wow, this is tepid as fuck

like, i love all four of these, but they're still conspiring to make this segment so dull

and bank statement from nowhere for the tap

so yeah, that happened

still optimistic for the four-way, though

and not just because the fallout from that would be the perfect moment to debut asuka

but now, let's have an overdramatic recap package of braun/show coming out of their cage

(and feeling just fine)

(yeah, i stole that joke, but it's perfect, so fuck off)

apparently show got injured

so, yknow, swings and roundabouts

(and we all know i can get away with that because a) it's almost definitely a work, and b) it's the big show)

brock up next

greeeeeeat

after this advert for smackdown, now with 100% more mcmahonity

oh wait, shane got suspended

so i guess the number stays the same

just been shot with a mad science aging ray

anyway, yeah, brock is here

which is why i'm distracting myself with jokes about the mathematics of mcmahons

(mcmahoths?)

paul continues to get mad pops by saying his name and listing adjectives

paul's just like i'm meant to be here to sell you on no mercy, but it's already generated all the hype in the world

possibly untrue

confirmed: braun's announce table origami combo sounds a lot dumber when a middle-aged accountant type describes it without the aid of video replays

paul says braun will need to rip the championship from brock's hands if he wants it

paul throws in some ufc references, because apparently people still pop for that

paul calls braun out with some enormous histrionics

and here he comes

brock tries to go straight into suplexes, gets punched in his grinning idiot face

then lands one, braun just stands up like nope

and chokeslams him

this is the shit i do like

and then running powerslam

fuck you, mr lesnar

picks up the belt so he can contemplate it for a bit, then stands on brock so he can brandish it aloft

then sarcastically puts it down on brock's chest and pats it like you just take care of my belt for a couple weeks

and swaggers off while brock lies in the ring hugging his belt

apparently tonight, we have miztv with enzo

what did we do to deserve this

but up next, bray does a thing

after cole tells us about the hurricanes

the crowd stay as classy and respectful as they ever do in a serious moment

by which i do of course mean they woo like a bunch of owls on meth

and now here comes goldust

you're not bray

although it is nice to see him actually get a match rather than just sending in his videos

ah, here's bray

doing a sermon over the tron first

continuing his crusade against people who wear face paint

bray wyatt vs icp confirmed for mania 34

booker boldly theorises that bray may be more concerned with collecting his enemies' souls rather than championships

no shit, dude

did you miss the bit where he delivered a screaming promo while anointing himself with the ashen earth from the burnt grave of the devil's sister or something

bray wins in about two minutes, doesn't even need to do the spider walk

did give goldust a chance to show off that he can still do this shit, though

bray produces a handkerchief, proceeds to scrub the paint off goldust's face to the boos of the crowd

proclaims that HE'S JUST A MAAAAAN

no shit

that paint slides right off if he fights for more than a couple minutes

finn takes offence, rushes the ring and chases bray away

bray walks slowly backwards up the ramp while giving finn uncomfortable eye contact, end thing

but now, charly interviews sheamus and cesaro

and the camera guy works very hard trying to keep the three of them in frame together

it's not really possible

apparently they're gonna leave seth and dean with punctured lungs at no mercy

seems excessive

but yeah, they're fighting the good brothers next

after this advert for the myc final

(it was great, thanks for asking)

seth and dean are on announce

dean's brought binoculars and a notepad so he can scout the competition

cole's like um dude, you know we have monitors

dean teaches seth how to use binoculars

and now they're scoring gallows and anderson on their fashion sense

and then derail the kkb's entrance by shittalking them

and then getting in a fight

and anderson and gallows can't bear to leave a good fight unjoined, so run up the ramp to brawl

gallows punches sheamus so hard his kilt falls off

security pulls them all apart, announce team are like welp guess that's a no on the match

but now, have this tapout body spray advert, featuring john cena as a presumably attractive-smelling superhero

and now you get a recap video of the team brawls we just had

cut to kurt's office, seth and dean demand a match against FUCKING EVERYONE tonight

kurt says they can have it, as long as they find two partners to even the numbers

crowd knows where this is going, immedately begins the delete chants

dean promises to find some, even if they have to go to disneyworld and bring back mickey mouse and batman

kurt clarifies that their partners do in fact have to be real people

dean shrugs like w/e man i can't tell the difference i just did a whole bunch of speed and some moss i found growing under the storm drain outside my apartment well i say apartment it's a sheet of corrugated iron against a wall under a bridge well i say wall it's a bear i knifed in a fight over half a can of special brew well at least that's what mad harry who makes it calls it anyway i don't care let's fucking GOOOOOO

(possible paraphrase)

they leave kurt to be like hmm, i guess batman would be a great partner

oh hey, here's a promo clip for asuka

confirmed for raw

but then, we all knew that was coming

pan out to nia watching it like pah

alexa appears at her elbow to be like gawd all these randos turning up in our division and our matches the fuck is wrong with people

does a spot-on emma impression

calls nia her best friend, she's immediately like ummmmmm no

alexa claims all their troubles are just because she has trouble expressing her emotions

nia's like cool let's be friends oh btw i asked kurt for a match with you next week

walks off, slow zoom on alexa's face like WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT

up next, elias has a new song, after this ad for champions

i love how they're always like OMG DEBUTING A NEW SONG

has he ever reused material

well, here he is, still shedding names like a snake with some kind of dermatological disorder

crowd are weirdly supportive, then surprised when he badmouths their city

(which turns out to be anaheim)

have they ever watched his segments before

oh, and here's kalisto

one day, elias will finish a song

i have faith

cole refers to kalisto as a lucha libre

the man is his own style

i have but moments to appreciate the rusk-style elias world tour shirt he's got before he shreds it like the new regeneration of hulk hogan

wait a second, why isn't kalisto competing in the cruiserweight decision yet?

that'd be great

anyway, he gets stomped on and neckbroken for the pin

speaking of underappreciated former nxt tag champs

but up next, jaun strowna

after another ad for smackown

and here's john again

he's found his towel again

leaves it on the announce table, because it's one of the things they're auctioning

so fair enough

cena grimaces up the ramp a bit, rips his shirt off while waiting for braun to turn up

roars into the arena, fashionably late as ever

stands in the ring pawing at the ground for a bit

wait, are we meant to be getting bullfight vibes from this?

is cena going to start sticking spears into braun's shoulders to slow him down

pan out to roman watching the match, holding a towel for some reason

braun's getting like 90% of the offense in this, and it's great

frankly, any time braun strowman dropkicks soemone, i am entirely on board with it

the crowd agree

i think they're trying to get braun heel heat here, not sure anyone gives a shit

i mean, i know it's mostly to get cena further over as a face, but still

braun's built a massive stock of goodwill off trying to murder roman reigns

they keep making a thing in this of john going for the aa but not being able to get strowman in the air

i get where they're going, but we've seen him aa big show and pick brock lesnar up with one arm

these power levels are more wildly inconsistent than dbz

cena sets up a five knuckle shuffle, braun just stands up and turns it into a spinebuster

cena gets an aa off it anyway for some reason, braun makes it out of the ring

and then hits him with the ring steps for a dq

wait, they're not treating this like it's over

are they somehow arguing that braun was just holding them when cena ran into them

i understand nothing

and then braun powerslams him onto the steps, which would be completely normal usually but causes a dq here

wait

they're playing his music

are they playing that as the medics called it off?

i have no fucking clue

charly turns up to interview roman, he says something banal that i managed to just tune out entirely

give it a few more weeks, and eventually every time he opens his mouth all i'll hear will be womp womp womp like charlie brown's teacher

but up next, miztv with enzo

sighhhhhhh

after this ad for total bellas

(also sigh)

and one for the myc final

(non-sigh)

but now, dean tries to recruit random runners into their tag team

seth's like yeahhhhhh maybe not

and then they run into dean malenko and a friend?

and decide against it

and then the hardyz

there we go

matt's being even more obviously broken than usual

and here are team miz

maryse in a bright red power suit that, as ever, i would wear the fuck out of

bo still hasn't given ariya his jacket back yet

ooh, apparently miz and maryse have an announcement

maryse is pregnant

and they're both just looking genuinely happy and it's so different to normal miz segments

so of course, miz immediately takes the opportunity to talk shit about kurt angle's parenting

starts reading a prepared speech about fatherhood, enzo cuts in with his intro

what a bellend

dressed even more than the create-a-wanker 'randomise' function than usual

claims he's just coming to celebrate with friends, makes eyes at maryse

miz just immediately tears him a new one about his lack of solo prospects

i love angry miz

just like listen dude, i understand being hated, so let me tell you: everyone fucking ~haaaaaaaaates~ you

wow, yeah, this is just miz absolutely unleashing

see, enzo, this is how you talk smack that people understand

enzo responds by shouting at him about realness

yeah, enzo, copying someone's finisher is totally a heinous act that you would never do

promises to come back to raw with the cruiserweight belt and beat miz too

miz pledges to show enzo what a real champion looks like, dedicates his victory to their unborn child

yknow, as you do

cut to ads, during which kurt agreed to the match on the grounds that once a wrestling match has been proposed, it 100% has to happen

miz's opponent immediately runs out of the ring to rant on mic for once

must be unfamiliar territory for him

miz returns the favour while mashing enzo's face into the apron

and then foolishly decides to pause to talk on mic while on the top rope

gets inevitably crotched

enzo takes the opportunity to question the baby's parentage, miztourage join in on kicking yet more shit out of him

dq sounded, miz doesn't even slightly care

but up next, the 8-man tag we all expected

ads for our other shows later, cut backstage and enzo's coughing blood and reconsidering his life choices

runs into neville, who gives an award-winning cackle and walks off

seth and dean do solo intros this time

they really need to get some kind of joint intro

what would that sound like

who could say

although i am a bit attached to BURRRRRN IT DOWWWWWWWWWWWWWN

match begins, i am distracted from matt hardy's shambling weirdness by his sweet-ass trousers

matt gets sheamus and cesaro on the outside, jeff does poetry in motion over the ropes because OH MY GOD AN OPPORTUNITY TO JUMP OFF A THING

i sometimes feel like matt needs to stop enabling his brother

if you thought this match would be huge and messy, you win nothing because of fucking course it is

enjoyable though

cesaro nearly stacks it off the top rope setting up for a flying uppercut/back senton combo, matt kind of flips sideways through the ropes to get the break, gets their at about a count of five to find out the ref had stopped the count at two anyway

dean manages to escape a magic killer attempt to punch gallows in the throat

seth finally hot tags in, burns everyone down

including completely no-selling anderson's attempts to interfere from outside

matt hits gallows with a twist of fate, then the hardyz intimidate the kkb away from the ring while seth and dean hit kingslayer to dirty deeds for the pin on anderson

sheamus and cesaro stand at the top of the ramp doing their thumb thing, the faces stand in the ring celebrating their actual use of tactics for once, and so we fade

i say 'we'

but as we all know, this is the blog that never sleeps

(offer not valid when i miss updates because i overslept)

so i think it's high time we rolled on some MONDAY AFTERNOON SMACKDOWN!

oh god, it's going to include vince and his floppy swagger

fuuuuuuuuuck

daniel, queue something else instead

okay, according to daniel, our machines are timelocked and you can only change the video queue between 11:03 and 11:36

yknow, every week it becomes more and more clear to me why we get these offices for free

well, if it's gonna play anyway, let's get our down smacked and we open on the ongoing shane/kevin controversy

this remains one of the more close-to-the-bone promos in recent times

wow, this is a long recap

previously on smackdown (and assuming neither you nor anyone you know has watched it)

so yes, we're in vegas, and we're making this into an event episode because we don't have a ppv for a little while

and also because vince has sufficiently recovered from the last time he was exposed to Earth air

anyway, here's kevin

and i had forgotten how good this announce team was

kevin welcomes us to his show, reiterates his deep and abiding trauma and restraint when he didn't fight back

so now when he's sued everybody in wwe to death we're gonna get "Kevin Owens Presents: The Kevin Owens Show, starring Kevin Owens"

pledges to fire sami and make tom and byron share a suit

and cancel the fashion files

right, officially irredeemable now

calls vince out so he can talk business

foolishly calls out "Mr McMahon", so here's...dolph?

doing shane's entrance

sure, why not

kevin's like oh thank fuck a talented man who works here, i thought it was shane

lets him have the gimmick, since nobody's using it

and off he goes

kevin starts announcing more grand plans

and here's the other man who might have something to say about that

bryan just strolls into the ring like oh hey you don't actually run this show, i still exist

kevin promises bryan he'll still have a fulfilling job as a janitor on the kevin owens show

bryan hits back with a crack about kevin's weight

sighhhhh

sort it out, dude

ominously promises the imminent arrival of the vince

kevin's basically like yeah whatever -drops mic, walks off-

so yes, later tonight we have new day/usos street fight for the title, naomi/nattie for that title, and tye/aj for -that- title

and that last one is apparently up next

after this ad for cena/roman

which i just read back as 'catwoman', despite having written it myself

and now a moment as tom and corey tell us about natural disaster season

but back to the wrestles, here's aj

and a vt of the ongoing dillinger/us championship thing

here's tye, and this time they've actually synced his tron properly

bell rings, commence to UNNECESSARILY FAST WRESTLING

but then, anything to distract us all from tye's hairstyle

baron runs in, aj redirects a phenomenal forearm to hit him in the face

tye doesn't quite get the distraction pin, then fights out of a styles clash attempt to hit a really nice tye breaker

aj kicks out at 2.99994, then reverses another thing into a calf crusher for the tap

good match

like, felt short, but that's just the problem with this show only being two hours

tye hobbles to his feet, aj gives him the handshake, respect and love all around

and here comes baron to ruin everything

throws aj over the barricade, clotheselines tye, then end of days to aj on the floor

before announcing that next week, aj's opponent in the us title open challenge will be him

someone still needs to learn the meaning of 'open'

and now some woman i don't recognise interviews rusev, both of them speaking with the conviction of a hostage delivering their captor's demands

apparently bulgaria has turned its back on rusev after his failure

so now he has to kill randy to get his mojo back

or poorly-thought-out words to that effect

but up next, jinder does a thing

after a total bellas ad and a supremely tacky exterior shot of vegas, that is

here are the singhs, holding a note longer every week

and here comes the man himself, jinder mahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal

in a dark green suit/brown shirt combo that i actually kind of dig

match graphic for hiac revealed

hell in a cell 2017: this year it's METAL AS FUCK

surprisingly notable maharaja chant going there

big punjabi-canadian community in vegas, clearly

jinder promises to get inside shinsuke's head

a process that seems to consist of putting pictures of him up and laughing at them

aaaaaaand there goes the poop joke

wow

way to aim high

the singhs find this possibly dangerously funny

oh wow, calling him a michael jackson ripoff

nobody's noticed that

oh, and there's a racist stereotype

people laugh, jinder's like see, fucking americans

promises shinsuke that if he wins the belt, he too will get shat on by racists

(while being racist)

transitions into ranting in punjabi mid-sentence

cut backstage, where kevin is dictating a list of his demands as showrunner

including a limo for his buddy jimmy

oh hey, here's sami

this won't be awkward

kevin doesn't even try not to gloat

sami's like cool, whatever, literally anything will be preferable to working for you

up next, new day v usos in a sin city street fighter 3rd strike

(it's possible i should have stopped typing earlier than i did)

but first, cute kids with cancer again

and i hold myself back from being as excoriating as usual

(if you're wondering whether bottling up my pite and bitchiness like this causes me physical pain, be assured that it does)

in any case, here are the new day

only kofi and e have made it to the ring

reasonably sure xavier was there at the top of the ramp

oh, ok

they've sent him back so the usos can't say they had an advantage

seems fair

roll vt of the match we would like you to forget being the best part of summerslam

new day immediately knock the usos out of the ring and get a table

they know how to do their job, who knew

cut to ads, and suddenly e is in the corner with a chair wedged into the ropes above him for whatever reason

recaps suggest the usos put it there, so we know who it'll backfire on

oh look, e kicked one of them into it

that was quick

and then jimmy kicks it into e's face

nice spot

kofi reappears, gets his face smacked into the apron

and jimmy gets jey a kendo stick

both commence to beating on big e with it

kofi comes back, takes everyone out, gets the kendo stick

beats jimmy with it until it explodes

splinters for everyone

okay, this is moving too fast for me to narrate

basically watch the summerslam kickoff match again, but add chairs

kofi just hit jimmy in the face with a chair about six dfferent ways, then threw it at him

and then got thrown into the barricade anyway in the ugliest bump of the night

this enrages big e, who proceeds to murder jey

jey's shirt is getting destroyed, providing a handy visual identifier e splashes both of them, dances instead of going for the pin

jimmy superkicks him, he doesn't give a shit, big ending for the nearfall and then e takes a double superkick anyway

set up for a double splash, kofi kicks jey off the turnbuckle and through chekhov's table

and midnight hour for the pin

much tromboning and joviality

shot of daniel arguing with a runner backstage

graphic for naomi/nattie, during which corey completely forgets how to english

shots of the press carpet for the myc, mostly just reminding me how good steph's outfit was

oh, and ronda rousey's here tonight

oh right, we're in the women's match now

no better way to show the legitimacy and importance of your women's division than by depriving their title match of intros

naomi's got cool new gear though

and carmella's on announce

with ellsworth on a leash

because of course

all bullshit aside, this is a good match

p sure i know who wins because of video thumbnails, but we shall see

-puts in an alarm for 11:05 to change those settings-

naomi casually scorpion kicks nattie in the face like it ain't no thang nattie gets knocked out of the ring, carmella takes the opportunity to front at her with her briefcase

aaaaaand naomi planchas her and ellsworth

and nattie gets a sharpshooter off the distraction for the tap

so yeah, the outcome i expected

so that's three really good title matches down, but of course our main event will be the corporate disciplinary hearing

kevin walks in on aiden practising his opera, offers him a job singing the theme song to the kevin owens show

he freestyles something, kevin is pleased

really, i'm looking forward to this grand restructuring

more like perestroiKO

and now here's dolph

with his own entrance for once

claiming to be the single best performer in wwe history

wait, is this whole rejection of gimmicks gimmick because kfc dropped him?

has a rant, walks off, comes back as bayley

gives up halfway through after the crowd are super into it, bunches a bayley buddy

has another rant, walks off again

and now he's the ultimate warrior

this is not gonna go down well with a lot of people

has dolph just spent a lot of time on the create-an-entrance tool in 2k17?

"So this is what it's come to"

dude, warrior was around like thirty years ago

how is this new

has another rant about how no-one can do what he can and how nobody cares

throws the mic at the announce table, stomps out of the ring as it goes WHONK

somewhat ruined the moment, tbh

who am i kidding, there wasn't a moment, it was dolph ziggler

back to the ring, and someone's cleared away the dead inflatables, so here are the hype bros

to be fed to alpha 2.0

now in beta

shelton makes an impression by dragon screwing mojo through about three laws of physics

counters a rough ryder into a lovely delayed spinebuster, powerbomb-cutter combo for the pin

nearly stymied by shelton thinking chad's arms were longer than they were

learn to tag, guys

mojo shakes hands and hugs them, zack stomps off

i smell plot

but up next, oh fuck vince is here where do we keep the spirits

daniel has responded to that question with a drawing of a magnet and what i'm reasonably sure is a swarm of hornets

guess that answers that question

so yeah, one myc ad later, kevin's in ring

and here comes vince

ain't nobody got swag this floppy

and what a delightful grey/green plaid suit

(disclaimer for text: that was sarcasm, it's fucking awful)

kevin launches straight into it with a thing about how vince must be intimidated by him

a spirit long-sealed at the bottom of a dry well replies

or possibly that's vince's voice

hard to tell sometimes

oh, again with the body-negative cracks

and making fun of kevin for not fighting back because lol cowards

i mean, i know that cowardice is the ultimate insult in wrestling, but it carries a lot of unpleasant baggage

vince promises to fire kevin if he sues the company, which i'm 100% sure breaks a whole lot of labour laws

just add 'wrongful dismissal' to that docket

vince claims to have never lost a lawsuit, i don't believe it for a second

also claims the laws of the land were written for men like him, which i can believe all day

apparently shane was suspended for not killing kevin

the fuck, vince

this is seriously the worst company anyone could ever work for

vince reinstates shane, makes a match at hiac so he can murder him properly

like, i know i read too much into wrestling, but this is tying into so much rich white male dickwad shit that it's making me deeply uncomfortable

vince agrees to give him his word that he won't have any repercussions for beating the shit out of a mcmahon

so kevin hits him in the head with a mic so he bleeds everywhere

and this is why we consider contract wording, children

ref tries ineffectually to get kevin to leave, so he just kicks vince in the stomach

and i get distracted by vince's old man socks for days

vince gets up, eats a superkick

kevin throws three refs out of the way, sets up for a frog splash

that dude in the suit whose name i always forget tries to stop him

it doesn't work

kevin walks up the ramp looking like he might have realised what he just did, steph comes out in that killer pantsuit to stare daggers at him

and we fade on an awful old man bleeding from his forehead and staggering up the ramp, supported by his daughter and that dude whose name still eludes me

so hey guys, who's hyped for the myc final?

sometimes, smackdown editing outdoes itself

(it might be scott armstrong?)

(fuck, but i'm bad at faces)

right - while this blog might never sleep, the lights go out in ten minutes, so we should probably relocate

expect another post sooner rather than later, since it's no mercy on sunday

and expect a decent outro...definitely later

#WWE #WWE Raw #wwe smackdown #Wrestling

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