#with house would be but this is so interesting cause its oddly vulnerable for house of all people to disclose this to the courier

[dykedvonte]

thinking abt what you said with house viewing Benny as a son and I’m obsessed. Like. The man spent most of his life before the war presumably alone, and then after the bombs fell he was alone again, save for AI he himself devised. Then he decides to pull in some Tribes, and one kid shows promise! So sure, treat him well, train him, groom him to be his protege, then next thing you know UH OH he’s got developing paternal feelings towards this guy. Wanting some semblance of a family when the time has long since passed, yet fostering that feeling all the same seems so accurate for him. Benny meanwhile only views him as a boss, and not a particularly good one at that. makes me wonder how House must’ve felt when he found out about Bennys plans

I view it as House blames only himself for this, cause he kind of does in canon (strap in this is a long one).

When reflecting on the issue of Benny, House chastises himself first and foremost for not acting quickly enough when it comes to priming Benny. He describes Benny as being ambitious, ruthless and capable; compliments coming from a man like House. House has an ego and while he is logical enough to understand there was never any evidence Benny saw him as a father-figure, he lacks the humility to admit he let his own views on his relationship with Benny blind him to the activities happening behind the scenes.

I doubt that House was as aware as he makes out about what Benny was doing, he knew early on but certainly not early enough to stop Benny from hacking and obtaining a securitron along with getting the chip in the first place. I take it he was distracted by all the possibilities he was calculating of Vegas' success and growth with him steering and Benny as the new figure head, not because of any normal affection for Benny but the admiration of his capabilities. It's to be noted that House believed menial incentives (likely caps, booze, basic needs, etc..) were enough to keep Benny tame like the other Chairmen but, as evidenced by the Omertas and Mortimer in the WGS, this is not enough when it comes to more driven Vegas citizens. This implies he still undervalued Benny and created a space in which Benny felt the need to rebel.

House in my eyes is not sentimental in the traditional sense. I can imagine his pride was severely scorned as someone he certainly deemed dumber than him was, albeit only for a little, able to out-gambit him. It would definitely hit home seeing how his brother also betrayed him but I feel like that's why he's so apathetic when he tells the Courier to do as they see fit with Benny. I doubt the way he terrorized his brother brought him any emotional satisfaction other than a "Now who's in charge!" ego boost. Putting that same emotional intensity towards Benny isn't worth it because who does it benefit? Wasted time, wasted planning, and most importantly wasted potential are all he gets from continuing to be hands-on with Benny. I say the closest example is not being able to throw out old toys due to the memories attached but knowing it's necessary as they are broken or just taking up space for new ones, and then asking someone else to do it so you don't need to get caught up in the feelings of throwing something you put so much effort into. It's not Benny House cares about in my mind, not in a way that sounds healthy to any non-emotionally constipated individual, but what he could've represented for him, which is why he so quickly offers the same position to the Courier.

As for Benny's view on all of this, it was a long time coming. Benny didn't and doesn't believe House is a completely shitty boss. He admires what he's been shown and admits House knows how to run the strip, but disagrees with the directions. Ideologically, House is an anarcho-capitalist while Benny is just an anarchist. House wants to run the strip to profit, though money is not what he's concerned with being rich with anymore. Benny wants a free state that he wishes to become a place for the people, except for the Chairmen who would be on top (I like to remind people that Benny's motives were selfish but not for personal gain/power as was it for the people he actually saw as family). Benny was never looking for a father but a future. He was not interested in being adopted, or having the chairmen adopted, as bigger names still overshadowed in House's legacy.

Truly, it's easiest to summarize as House feeling strongly and thinking positively enough of Benny to start incorporating him into the future of Vegas (a huge honor actually) while Benny was so disillusioned by House's ego and indifference that he thought the only way Vegas could be the future is with House gone.

#tdlr House saw Benny as the perfect face of his Legacy while Benny saw his legacy as a stagnant mosquito infested pond #its more complex as house certainly would of been irate if he hadn't known and the courier came to kick benny's ass #but more someone being mad youre fucking with their things #i likely thing that even in a more traditional father son relationship House is conditional and would force Benny to confrom more to his #standards as I also believe the Chairmen are more tightly monitered due to bennys unique relation to house and being the first tribe #so itd be smothering and oppressive for someone like Benny even though imposing his beliefs and standards would be how House shows affectio #and fatherly praise which would result in Benny probably wanting to act out even more. like the only way a father son dynamic is healthy an #works is if house would relent some control and show he sees benny as an equal which would never happen cause its house but its still tragi #to me cause house has that longing for something more personal to him than Vegas and tries to fill it with progress cause its rather hard #to create those bonds in the state he is in and benny was the closest thing to that and even that he inadvertently ruined #but on benny house kinda ruined him cause the chairmen for all intents and purposes liked and trusted benny as a leader after bingo who #benny really only killed because of the illusions of grandeur house put into a young impressionable mind and how bingo refused to hear him #not to absolve him of his wrongdoings and being a dick but benny didnt just attack bingo he challenged him and won and in the end while #nostalgic none of the chairmen choose to leave and go back to the old way which says something cause they can leave #this is long and honestly should a seperate post on benny cause i have thoughts on him and how more people need to add his all roads traits #to get a cohesive picture of how hed really act #benny gecko #benny fnv #fallout #fallout new vegas #robert edwin house #mr house fnv #mr house #ask #anon #sorry if this is confusing I have very indepth thoughts on all aspects and possibilites on how unhealthy and power inbalancey anything #with house would be but this is so interesting cause its oddly vulnerable for house of all people to disclose this to the courier

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fanfiction #corpse fic #corpse fluff #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse husband is ruining my life #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #corpse angst #angst #request #requests open #x reader

[genesisrose74]

Up Late -> S. Ishigami

Hey I physically cannot get Senku mf’ing Ishigami off my brain and it is one in the morning, so time for nighttime concepts written by ya girl :3 This is sorta a headcanon/short oneshot scenario combination that I made on the spot. Hope you enjoy it!

Good gracious I just love him and wanna give him a hug, is that too much to ask for

*****

As much as he claims to be against the thoughts of himself in a romantic relationship, Senku would sacrifice a limb for the people dear to him in situations of vulnerability and the like (ahem,,, nearly crying after hearing his friends’ voices over the phone after so long apart, making cola for Gen on multiple occasions, etc.). Therefore I reject the idea that you’d always have to be the one to initiate intimate moments between you both, and will today entertain soft Senku appearing at night time. He’s very often awake later than others in the village because he has a hard time reigning in all his thoughts and plans quickly, and if you happen to catch him at these hours it is a blessing and a half. Not that you’ve told him that.

He’s still his joking and oddly charismatic self, of course, but he’s noticeably more attentive. Things like, “you need rest if you’re gonna keep working tomorrow” and, “it’s not the smartest to be out in this colder weather, you know” fall from his mouth and into the crisper night air if he encounters you milling about without much rhyme or reason. If he’s working on something smaller in the little observatory house, you’ll get invited up to look through his telescope at all the gorgeous stars — ones that seem to twinkle that much brighter in the comfortable presence of each other.

One moment Senku’s tinkering with one of his little projects to wind himself down, and the next he’s quietly watching as you lean out of the makeshift observatory’s opening, looking up at the sky with such contentment reflecting back from your own observing gaze that it makes him unreasonably intrigued.

“Wouldn’t you rather see everything up there a bit closer with the telescope?” He inquires a bit jokingly, the subtle smirk in his tone clear as the night display above. Yet your mouth only twitches upwards at his question, and the scientist who almost always has a logical explanation for things simply grows more interested.

“It’s pretty just taking everything in at once, too,” you hum thoughtfully. “Don’t you think?”

He does. As much as he likes seeing all the pieces that make up the contents of the universe beyond, looking up at it now in one big framework seems to give him that usual feeling of exhilaration.

Maybe you contributed to the scene as well, as Senku takes note of the way you balance on your tiptoes before rocking back onto your heels, really for no good reason but entertaining him all the same. And he’s barely even thinking about it further as he places his things safely to the side and stands to his feet, wandering over to get a better look at what you’ve become so enraptured with.

Your eyes swim with the light of billions of stars that stare down at the village, glossy with something that neither you nor him can really pinpoint, and Senku offers a light nod in response to your earlier question. The little gesture in your peripheral causes you to crack a smile, and it only sticks around longer when the crimson-eyed boy slips off his winter jacket to hand over.

“If you stay out of bed any more today, the cold won’t be very forgiving,” he notes, and to his satisfaction, you take the warm article of clothing without further persuasion.

“I might stick around for a bit,” comes your reply. “The walk back does not sound all too appealing at the moment, but I’ll get the motivation eventually. Hopefully.”

He scoffs lightheartedly with a shake of his head. Stubborn, he thinks, just like how you would sometimes get before the whole petrification phenomenon. He quite liked it. Back then and right now.

“You know,” he starts, slowly turning away from the roof’s opening, “if you’re that opposed to going back, there’s room here.”

The offer is menial and simple, something Senku would offer up no matter the person to which he was speaking, but he’s truly hoping that you’ll say yes to the proposition. You shift in position to lean your jacket-covered back against the wooden wall, soft smile and warm figure the only thing running through the young scientist’s head as he tilts his head to look back at you.

“If you wouldn’t mind housing me for the evening, I’d very much like to take up that offer.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I minded,” he points out, the faintest of grins tugging at the corners of his lips. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

And you do - both of you. And maybe he lets you hold onto that winter coat until morning, because you melted into its warmth with so much ease that sleep overtook you in minutes, a gentle smile ever present as you nestled into the cozy fabric.

After the next few times that it happens, Senku gets a jacket made similar to his own and stores it beside the telescope, just in case you’d like to stay the night with him again.

#senku ishigami x reader #ishigami senku x reader #senku x reader #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami #dr stone fanfic #dr stone #dr stone anime

[spitpr1ncess]

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

-

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

-

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

-

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

-

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #Nanamin #nanami fanfic #archive of our own #spitprincess #spitty #my own work #original content #nanami x femme reader #kento #kento nanami x redaer

[karasunovolleygays]

UshiIwa Fic Recs

(that nobody asked for)

Hello! It’s my distinct pleasure to welcome you all to UshiIwa hell! I’ve been malingering here for years, but with new developments in canon, it looks like I am no longer stuck on Gilligan’s Island (me plus the six other sad bastards i’m stranded with). 

As a long time sufferer of this ship, I would like to introduce you to some of my favorite UshiIwa stories, including a few of my own bc tag smol. :’)

Rating: G/T

I Lose Control by voices_in_my_head Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, OMC (Coach) Summary: "He looks to the bench, where Iwaizumi’s eyes dance from player to player." Words: 1,538 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: this is an interesting study of how Ushijima would deal with an injury at a crucial moment when everyone is counting on him, plus a dose of priority.

Cordially Uninvited by Karasuno Volleygays (that’s me) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Possible Current Manga Spoilers, Established Relationship, Paparazzi Summary: Paparazzi haunting notable people has always been a problem, but Hajime and Wakatoshi opt to clear the air on their own terms. Words: 1,279 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I thought it would be interesting to see how Ushijima would deal with celebrity and subsequently strangers poking their noses in his personal business.

Three Doors Down by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, More Fluff, pretty bara men bonding over dogs Summary: When Ushijima inherited a property that had seen better days, he found himself spending a lot of time and effort in a new part of town restoring the house to its former glory. However, he didn't expect a litter of puppies in a yard a few houses over to revive his spirit, as well.

He certainly didn't anticipate their owner stirring something to life within him, either, but that was a development he didn't need much coaxing to get used to. Words: 13,145 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: I have no excuses for how fluffy this is.

you're good, too quickly admitted by pyrality Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Coffeeshop AU, College AU, Fluff, Getting Together, Awkward Flirting Summary: Iwaizumi sits back in the chair, "Oikawa thinks I could do better."

Ushijima swallows, eyes still on his laptop screen, "And what do you think?"

"I think I'd like to go out to lunch with you sometime."

He looks up at the other boy, feeling warm at the sight of Iwaizumi's crooked, barely there smile, a challenging twinkle in his eye.

"Oh," Ushijima manages before he recomposes himself, "I'd like that.” Words: 2,731 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: UshiIwa dating to spite Oikawa is too good to turn down.

Alight by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Time Skips, Rivals to Lovers Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime can't believe his soulmate is the guy who just wiped the floor with his team, but there is no denying the fact that he is irrevocably linked to Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 4,504 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you’re interested in them getting to know each other through their failures and vulnerable moments, this is probably your jam.

Baby It's Cold Outside by RarePairGremlin Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Winter, Cuddling, light grinding, hints to smut but nothing is described, jaw kiss, Kissing, Fluff, Established Relationship Summary: The childish grin spread over his lips again as he faced them, his gaze roaming up them slowly as an idea formed. Ushijima, ever prepared, was fully dressed in thick socks a pair of blue sweats, which they had tucked into their socks like the crime against fashion they are, and a thick hoodie. He knew for a fact, since he’s stolen it enough times, that the hoodie was fuzzy and soft on the inside. Beside them lay a steaming cup of tea, the bag still steeping inside as they liked their tea strong, and the aforementioned throw lay comfortably across their lap. A perfect image of warm and cozy.

It would be a shame if someone was to disturb that now wouldn’t it? Words: 1,471 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly what it says on the tin, plus a bonus NB Ushijima!

the ghost in your room by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Unrequited Love, Unrequited IwaOi, oikawa is a bit of a dick Summary: Hajime finds a way to get over Oikawa Words: 1,173 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s an oddly pleasurable mixture of fluff and a punch in the throat.

Good Graces by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Arguments, Mending Fences Summary: Hajime is pissed at Wakatoshi for something he admits he did until he finds out the real reason he did it. Then he feels like a jackass. Hopefully, his live-in boyfriend is up for a good old fashioned groveling session. Words: 2,059 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: Making your otp mad at each other is hard and it hurts, but the communication afterward is so important. 

lit the very fuse by mousecat Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Getting Together, Unrequited Love, Christmas Eve, Mostly Fluff, ushiwaka is a soft boy, you can never convince me otherwise Summary: Hajime isn't sure what he and Ushijima are to each other, but he knows he's still stuck on Oikawa. Words: 2,609 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: If you like FWB to Lovers, step right up and scream into the void with me. 

Once An Enemy. by BGee93 Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends, Aged-Up Character(s), Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Not Beta Read, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Volleyball, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Volleyball Dorks & Nerds, volleyball mentioned not played, Getting to Know Each Other, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Coffee Shops, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Coffee, First Dates, Awkward Dates, Aobajousai, Shiratorizawa, boyfriend sweater, Confusion, Cliche, cliches, Awkward RomanceAwkward Meetings, meme team - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Romance, very slow burn, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Bonding, Forced Bonding Summary: 'It took several minutes to catch his breath again and to stop hissing through his teeth at the areas that throbbed, until they were just a dull ache. Once Iwaizumi felt he was able to move again he slid his hands up the strangers chest, ignoring the ripple and twitches his touch caused since the situation was already awkward enough without Iwaizumi appreciating the well toned muscle under his fingertips, as he pushed himself up till he was able to look at the persons face. There was more lighting on the bottom floor, as it was closer to the illuminating street lamps outside, so he was able to make out exactly who the man was within mere seconds despite the face still being quite shadowed. And the identity shocked him into stilling every joint, muscle and fiber of his being.

Oh hell no.' Words: 20,130 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was written for me as a gift in an exchange a while back. Have I stopped screaming about it? Not bloody likely.

Rating: M

Focus (On Me) by Verbrennung Tags: Underage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ushijima is a 1st year, lots of staring, and looming, and crowding, Seijou!Ushijima, rated for ~makin' out~ Summary: Nobody had foreseen future Super Ace Ushijima Wakatoshi transferring from Shiratorizawa to Aoba Johsai for high school. Everyone's curious to know why, and as Iwaizumi discovers, some of his reasons are... unexpected.

An AU in which everything is mostly the same except Ushijima is a first year at Aoba Johsai and has a huge, looming crush on Iwaizumi. Words: 12,454 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This should probably be rated T instead, but whatever. If you ever wanted to know how much of an awkward bastard both of them are when they’re into someone, this is your jam.

Point Blank by Karasuno Volleygays Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Future Fic, Brief (but pertinent) Mention of Homophobia, Slow Burn, Financial shenanigans, Scary Men with Guns, Minor Character Death Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime accepted a position at a company that was going places, and he knew he had a bright future ahead of him if he just kept his head down and worked hard — a future his family desperately needed him to achieve. He didn't count on an old rival working in the same building, nor Ushijima Wakatoshi's surprisingly cordial demeanor, yet he managed to make an unlikely friend and an even more unlikely roommate.

But when Iwaizumi climbed up the company ladder and into some of the more shadowy recesses of the corporate realm, he knew they would both get more than they bargained for, and the only person he knew he could trust was Ushijima. Words: 44,981 Chapters: 12/12 My notes: This was my first UshiIwa and I still think about it a lot. Imagining these guys in regular jobs is strange, but kind of endearing when you get a feel for how they live their lives after volleyball.

Rating: E

Flare by fish_wifey Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, From dislike to like, Tension, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Dressing Room Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial Summary: Ushijima's forwardness makes Iwaizumi edgy, but after they figure their shit out, it's Iwaizumi who brings Ushijima on edge. Words: 7,687 Chapters: 2/2 My notes: Enemies to lovers speed run ahoy!

Tangled Webs by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Black Widow AU, Assassin Iwaizumi, Crime boss Ushijima, alcohol use, Drugging, dubcon elements, Angst Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime is a seasoned killer, with wit sharp enough to cut and reflexes to match. He's never missed a kill. That is, of course, until he meets his new mark — Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Can Ushijima offer Iwaizumi what he truly desires, on top of a night of heated passion that can only end one way? Words: 4,120 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This was some fucked up stuff, but sweet baby jesus it was a wild ride to write.

Unraveled by Karasuno Volleygays (Restricted) Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Bondage, Knife Play, Edging, Rough Sex, Flogging, Breathplay, Toys, Dubious Morality Summary: After his liberation from his past life, Iwaizumi adjusts to life with Ushijima. But something is missing, and Ushijima picks the strangest (and most erotic) way to give it to him. Words: 5,145 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: It’s cute that I thought the first fic in this series was fucked up. This one was clearly more so, but noragerts.

Poly/Multiship ft. UshiIwa

4 AM by ApparentlyAda Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, this is so stupid, I'm Sorry, Oikawa and Ushijima talk about dogs, Iwaizumi is Oikawa and Ushiwaka Trash #1 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: "Ushiwaka."

"Yes?"

"What if one day you woke up as a chicken?"

"What if one day you shut the fuck up?", interrupts Hajime groggily.

(Or, simply put, the awful(ly amazing) conversations these three dorks have during sleepless nights) Words: 1,064 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: I hope you like banter and Oikawa roastage haha

Bridge the Gap by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Polyamory, Established Relationship, Divorce, Past Child Abuse, Lawyer! Oikawa, Police officer iwaizumi, Flower Shop Owner Ushijima, child kageyama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Meet the Family, chap 6 is the familys ongoing mission to keep kags hydrated, chap 7 is meet the parents edition, Internalized Homophobia, just a touch of it really Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru and Ushijijma Wakatoshi love each other more than anything, but sometimes that’s not enough, especially in a world that doesn’t love them back. Tiny cracks begin to widen, ever so slowly, until the gaps they leave seem insurmountable.

They find their answers with each other, and surprisingly enough, with the little boy loitering outside their window.

—-

Or, a story of disconnects and the love it takes to bridge them. Words: 121,443 Chapters: 18/18 My notes: It’s long with a lot of heavy themes, but if you look at the tags and think you can get through them, it’s so worth it.

a taste of heaven by beatboxbmo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Polyamory, Birthday baking, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s) Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: tooru comes home early on his birthday to see his two boyfriends asleep on the couch. they baked him a surprise. Words: 2,141 Chapters: 1/1 My notes: This is exactly as warm and gooey as it sounds.

Three's A Crowd by FindingSchmomo Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Romance, Comedy, Romantic Comedy, Miscommunication, Dating, First Kiss, a mess, These Boys are a MESS, Chatlogs, Light Angst, Polyamory, OT3 Relationship: UshiIwaOi Summary: Iwaizumi loves Oikawa.

Oikawa loves Iwaizumi.

Neither of them will say anything.

Then, suddenly, Ushijima is there.

And things get very complicated. Words: 32,385 Chapters: 9/10 My notes: Normally I don’t put WIPs on rec lists, but this one is close to completion and it’s so, so worth it. Boys are dumb and you should appreciate them.

adolescence and all its glory by pageleaf Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Wooing, Future Fic, College/University, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Fluff, Flirting, Established Iwaoi, eventual OT3, Threesome - M/M/M, Manga Spoilers Summary: Iwaizumi was supposed to meet new people. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do, when you go to a different university from your best friend? Now that his life isn’t filled with Oikawa, he should have been making new friends, trying new things, whatever.

Instead, he shows up barely on time to his anatomy class, hears a small noise from beside him, and turns around to see Ushijima Wakatoshi. Words: 20,024 Chapters: 2/2 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Accidental rivals to lovers? Enjoy the sound of me screaming into the abyss, and the abyss screams back.

Close For Comfort by Leryline Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, NSFW, ushioi - Freeform, really sinful but great, Angst, it has a happy ending i promise, iwaoi - Freeform, Phone Sex, Rough Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Threesome, Double Penetration, Spitroasting, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, Cheating, but look it's integral to the plot ok, ROMANC E AHGHGNJD it's so gay, turning a oneshot into a multi-chap out of spite: a novel by me, also: don't cheat on people irl my dudes it's not cool. not cool.like legit please DO NOT Summary: Oikawa Tōru has always seen his future with Iwaizumi Hajime - solely, utterly, completely. After all, Iwaizumi is his pillar, the only person he needs in the world.

...right?

[or: Ushijima Wakatoshi comes in and fucks everything up, as usual, but Oikawa has never given in easily, and neither has Iwaizumi, for that matter.] Words:61041 Chapters: 15/15 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: If infidelity makes you uncomfortable, even if it has a happy ending all around, I would pass on this one. The smuts, however, are top shelf.

Privacy by plumtrees Rating: E Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, House Party, Alternate Universe - College/University, Future Fic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Riding, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Partner Swapping Summary: Iwaizumi reaches for the knob by his hip, easily twisting it open and getting them both inside. They stumble in with their lips still sealed over each other’s, silent giggles passing between mouths as Oikawa hurries to flatten his hand against the door to shut it and crowd Iwaizumi against the surface, other hand winding around his waist to pull him close, keep him there—

But then an alarmed noise rips from Iwaizumi’s throat, the hand steady on his shoulder suddenly pushing him away Iwaizumi’s looking behind him, expression a mix of shock and mild horror and Oikawa follows a split second later, just in time for a moan to resonate past the muffled music being carried over from downstairs.

“Oikawa.” Ushijima greets, only the slightest tremor to his voice as Shirabu sinks down on his cock. “Tendou didn’t mention you’d be here.” English Words: 9,736 Chapters: 1/1 Relationship: UshiShiraIwaOi My notes: Good lord this is spicy. This is ‘swinging’ in its truest form.

Show Me You Own Me by preciousghouls Rating: E Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Threesome - M/M/M, Threesome, Rimming, Barebacking, BDSM, Daddy Kink, on oikawa's part, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom!Iwaizumi, bottom!Oikawa, top!oikawa, top!ushijima, switch hitter oikawa, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, i have sinned, sleeping drug in five lines, Consensual, Begging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Petplay, Collars, Cuffs, Butt Slapping, Spanking, Butt Plugs, domestic AU, Crossdressing Summary: It's Oikawa's idea, of course. But Iwaizumi finds himself loving the way Ushijima has Oikawa wrapped around his fingers, and before long they're both moaning at the hands of Ushijima.

aka the kinkiest shit I've ever written in my life. Words: 20,819 Chapters: 4/4 Relationship: UshiIwaOi My notes: Sometimes wanting to be dommed by ushiwaka is a communal mood, ya know?

Tumblr Fics

(mostly not rated/tagged; proceed with caution and at your own discretion)

Untitled by notsuchasecret

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by worthlesspride (this is definitely E)

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by raspberrydevil

Untitled by deathbelle

Comfortable by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Morning Kisses by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

Meet My Nephew by raspberrydevil Relationship: ushiiwaoi

#ushiiwa #iwaushi #ushiiwaoi #ushijima wakatoshi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #hq chapter 395 #hq manga spoilers #manga spoilers #fic recs #haikyuu fic recs

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

photo credit Jim Huylebroek for the New York Times

* * * * *

Michael J. Tallon

“I've been thinking about Afghanistan over the past few days, as many of you have, as well. It's obviously a crazily complex and chaotic system right now, and it would be hard to predict how things play out in the coming weeks or months. There could very easily be a confrontation between Taliban forces and US/Coalition forces in Kabul. That really depends on unit cohesion and chain-of-command durability on the Taliban side - with the big question being, "How far can we push them during the evacuation?" 

After a hideous day or two at the airport about a week ago, it seems that something like an orderly evacuation is in process. Sure, it's crazy. Sure, there are thousands of people outside the airport, desperate to get in. But no one is flushing onto the runways. That happened in an understandable panic when the Ghani government fled (with hundreds of millions of dollars in their luggage), and the Taliban emerged from all over Kabul. Note this: You never saw video of an army triumphantly marching on the capital city. Why? Well, eerie as it may be, it's because they were already there. 

As of two days ago, C-130 flights have been leaving on the hour, and we're clearing about 5000 people a day. Given that we've set a schedule of last-wheels-up for August 31, that means we'll move about another 50,000 allies and vulnerable families out of the country, and to make sure we are maximizing those efforts, it appears that some forward actions have been taken. French forces went and grabbed some of their people two days ago from a house in Kabul. Yesterday, a Chinook helicopter hopped over to the Baron Hotel, a few hundred meters from the airport to grab some folks. More of that will likely happen, which might - just might - cause a reaction from Taliban forces on the ground. That could get very ugly, very quickly, and I'd imagine there are lines of communication open between Taliban leadership and US military leadership to prevent that from happening. Oddly, as politics make strange bedfellows, the Biden Administration, the US Military, and the Taliban all want the same thing right now. They want the US out of Afghanistan, and can likely be marshaled in that direction. Still, near-term chaos could ensue if someone on the ground gets pissy. 

That stuff is all really unclear. But blow the perceptual lens out a bit - to the next few years - and things get a little clearer. 

1) Very soon, western military forces will be gone from the country, at least in sizeable formations. Never doubt the penetrative capacity of US Special Forces, but the force presence will likely be down to dozens, rather than thousands. 

2) The Taliban will need to figure out how to run a country. They clearly have some capacity for taxation and enforcement, but the rest of it - maintaining a power grid, providing water and electric infrastructure, some semblance of healthcare - will be an enormous challenge. Also, as they'll be attempting to fund a state, they'll need significantly more resources than they have required so far for the support of an advancing army. The 2019 GDP of Afghanistan was about $20 billion dollars. For comparison, the GDP of New York State is $1.5 trillion. So, it's not a rich country, and for the past 20 years, a sizable percentage of that wealth came in from US military largess - and most of THAT got siphoned off to a corrupt cadre of elites who managed to be such awful people that their countrymen would rather have the Taliban in charge - and that's something. 

The GDP of that troubled nation is going to take a massive hit this year, on top of which, the Biden Administration has recently frozen about $10 billion dollars of Taliban funds that they had secured in US banks - which is mindblowing in and of itself. 

So, how do they get that money back? How do they entice other foreign investors to provide the needed resources? How do they do that in a region of the world where there are predators on all sides? It's gonna be mighty tricky, but one potential way forward would be to TRY and reform their most brutal of practices.

No one has any illusions about the Taliban becoming liberal adherents of Enlightenment principles, but maybe there will be a push for fewer public execution festivals in the town football pitch? Maybe rather than banning all women and girls from reading, they'll keep the schools open, but demand the girls dress in burkhas. I don't know if that will be the case, but there are at least some early signs that some "moderate" Taliban will lean that way.  This leads to the next likely scenario a year or two out. 

Civil War. 

3. Go back through your history of radicals taking over as governing forces. The French Revolution is the most commonly used example of what happens when purists are put into the position of actually running a state. Though you could also look to Ireland in 1922-23. This is admittedly analogy as history and might be completely wrong, but my sense is there's a real possibility of the Taliban fracturing along "reformist" and "purist" wings. IF the Taliban leadership tries to live inside the rules of the community of nations; if they try to moderate their practices to encourage investment and growth, THEN you might very likely see the rise of a revanchist faction who really, truly believes the world should be returned to the fashion of seventh century Saudi Arabia. 

Add to that potential chaos the reality that small fiefdoms of well-armed local leaders with significant self-interest in controlling the flow of limited resources will emerge all over the country, and these past years could end up looking rather peaceful by comparison - which would bring us to the next point - Afghanistan is in an ugly, ugly neighborhood for geopolitics. 

4. Afghanistan is bordered by four major geopolitical forces. Pakistan to the south, Iran to the west. China to the east, and Russia (under its regional proxies, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, and Tajikistan) to the north. For the past twenty years, the United States has been on the ground, and that served to limit (but not stop) their influence in the region. Of the four major players, Pakistan has been particularly active in supporting the Taliban and allowing them to have cross-border safe-havens which made defeating them practically impossible. 

But how in the hell will those four power centers resolve the coming decades in what will likely be a very chaotic, poor, corrupt, and broken land? Russia and China will both be working hard and brutally to blunt the spread of militant Islam on their borders. Pakistan will now need to deal with its violent attack dogs as a neighboring government, potentially destabilizing the political reality of Pakistan itself. As to Iran . . . my Lord, I have no clue. All I know is that the Taliban are Sunni and the Ayatollahs are Shi'a - and that's its own 1000-year-old can of worms. 

-----

I've been writing this now for an hour or so. I do that sometimes just to try and think through the complexities, and I end where I began. No matter how ugly these past few days have been, I think that Biden both made the right choices, and is doing a pretty damn good job, all things considered. The pressures on Afghanistan are brutal - the poverty, the corruption, the geopolitical crucible in which it sits, the religious divisions, the tribal rivalries, the forces of modernization and radical revanchism, the international finances. Ugh. 

Back in 1820, Thomas Jefferson wrote a letter to John Holmes. The subject was the Missouri Compromise which threatened to destabilize the nation by expanding slavery to the West but kept it whole by allowing Maine to join in the East - thereby balancing the interests of Northern free-staters, and Southern slavers. He understood that slavery ultimately would provide to great an internal pressure to keep the country whole - and he feared the day those forces would eventually tear us apart. He wrote of slavery that "we have the wolf by the ear, we can neither safely hold it, nor safely let it go." 

That's been the case with Afghanistan since we first invaded nearly 20 years ago, and as the fourth President who had to make this choice, Joe Biden finally accepted it was time to make Afghanistan someone else's problem. Yeah, he got bit by the wolf. Yeah, a lot of people are going to suffer. But when you look ahead at the absolute horrorshow of Central Asia in the next fifty years, my sense is that history will determine he made the right terrible choice.  

Love to you all.

Thanks to Michael J. Tallon

#political #Afghanistan #Michael J. Tallon

[thoseofgreatambition]

NLT pt 2 || ash

pointing out the truth resulted in you being pushed away in one of your more desperate hours. you learned that people often disliked honesty despite their protests otherwise. you refused to shrink from the truth and its consequences, even if it meant the boy you used to think you’d marry ran off again. for now, he seemed to be standing firm. 

genre: romance, angst

warnings: alchohol, smoking, family troubles

pt 1 

a/n: hello loves! glad to be back. the idea for this hit me and i had to take it. let me know what you think!

Your bar was grungy, had several holes in the wall from drunken duels, and often smelled like cigarettes. It was absolutely your favorite place in the world. This was the place you had carved for yourself through blood, sweat and tears. You’d been cursed at by your mother for such a disgraceful career, your father had withdrawn all love, but this was your place. The tables had been made by your hands. 

To you, it was as sacred as holy ground. 

Which made you all the more protective of it. You dumped out the ash in the ashtray at the bar, annoyed at the late night drunks who’d stumbled in. They always seemed to be the worst amount of trouble. “Oi! If you lot don’t settle down I’ll drag you out of this place by the ear.” 

One of the more drunken ones piped up from the back, “Anyway you can drag me back to your flat instead?” 

He dropped one of your pint glasses. Magic could fix it, but that felt beside the point. With a flick of your wand their drinks flew behind the bar, and you walked over to the table, back straight. “Out. All of you, get out.” 

Draco watched from the bar with an expression of dry interest as he sipped on his drink. If he was more of a gentleman, he would have kicked them out for you. 

You always had a handle on these things though. Nothing ever seemed to phase you. You seemed impervious to any sort of comment that came your way. Impervious to his apologies, even. 

It was odd. As much as Draco was trying to make himself better and stronger man, he could not figure out how to crack you open again. It was his fault you were closed off. He was shocked however to find out that you were not closed off to everyone. 

It seemed impossible to get back to the point of friendship. Much less love. 

With much moaning and groaning you’d kicked out your rowdy customers and wandered back to behind the bar. “Why’re you looking at me like that, Draco?” 

“You’re nice to your friends.” 

“Ah, I can see how that’d be shocking to you. A new concept I’m sure.” you grinned at one of your regulars as they came up to pay off their tab, making small talk before wishing them a good night. 

There was a frown on the blond man’s lips. He hadn’t expected to be mocked this much. His mouth opened to speak, and instead was interrupted by you. “Why are you here?”

“I came to make amends.” 

“Paying me money and being a customer isn’t making amends. Small talk isn’t friends.” You lit up a cigarette with the tip of your wand and took a drag. “Things aren’t that easy, Draco. I stopped associating with the ‘pureblood’ lot years ago.” 

“I’m not part of ‘that lot’ anymore.” At your disbelieving look he picked up his voice to defend himself. “I changed. I was wrong. I’ve made amends.” 

“It’s more than just changing your mind, Draco. You ought to know that. You treat muggleborns and squibs now don’t you? Half-bloods too. Do they forgive you? Do they trust you?” 

His whiskey burned as he took another sip. The smell of your cigarette was terrible. He struggled to understand why this wasn’t working out like he thought it would. “I don’t talk to my patients about that. I just treat them and stay respectful and empathetic.” 

You seemed unimpressed, and suddenly Draco found himself just as unimpressed with himself. 

“I’m doing my best, Y/N.” 

It was hard to drum up any sympathy for the man who was still on good term with his parents after switching career paths, when you’d been disowned for the same. 

“Doing your best doesn’t mean results come the next day.” 

Draco stood up, put his payment down on the bar top before polishing off his drink. “Maybe you’re right about that. But I won’t stop trying.” 

Your brow twitched upwards at that comment, it sounded surprisingly sincere, coming from him. “Very brave of you to say that.” 

There was a sad smile on his face, “I can be brave, you know. Don’t need to seem shocked about it.” 

You hummed in response, and watched as he walked out the door. Maybe you were going to be surprised about this. 

In the cold London night you wandered the streets, only lit up by the lamp-posts you walked underneath. A bus whizzed past you, and you let out a puff of air. You wanted to smoke at the moment, after breaking things off with your muggle lover, but you’d been informed that muggles took smoking in public especially bad. 

A very good reason to get back to the wizarding section of London. Not to mention the unfortunate fact that your family’s home was only a few blocks away. They’d gone the way of another notable pureblood family and charmed a house that didn’t appear to muggles. 

It was all a farce really, you never understood why your parents wanted to live near people they hated. 

Prats. Fools. Idiots. Prideful bastards who cared more for wealth than anything else. For image. For the ‘bloodline’. 

You’d been screamed at when things with Draco ended. They’d been sympathetic at first, their child’s first broken heart and all that. Then you’d told them it was because he was a death eater. That it was a despicable thing. 

Your parents, who were providing monetary support and time to that cause did not take kindly to it. 

The last year of your education had been spent homeless. 

It was worth it. That was what you told yourself at least. 

You’d never gotten on with Potter’s lot. You fell into an odd sort of crevice. A neutral niche, where you had good ideals and morals, but lacked the courage to fight for them. 

Standing your ground had been the bravest thing you’d been able to do. 

Your cheeks stung for some reason, and you realized that you were crying. 

Maybe you weren’t that brave after all. 

You set course back to your flat, opting to take it on foot. 

It gave you more time to think. 

You glanced to your left and watched a blue car roll past you, a young man with blond hair at the wheel. 

Naturally, your thoughts drifted back to Draco. 

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said you’d forgiven him, and then roundly rejected any attempts on his part to reconnect. Was it because he said he still loved you?

You didn’t think so. That just made you feel bad for the poor bastard. You’d held on to your feelings for him for over a year, convinced things would change and your heart had been roundly broken. 

Holding onto that emotion for five years sounded terrible. 

There was a part of you, a terrible part of you that was hell bent on the truth, no matter who it hurt. Typically, others were the ones to suffer because of that side of you. 

This time, you were bearing the brunt of it. 

You related too much to him. It was far too hard to look back at someone making the same journey you had so long ago. It tugged at your heart in an odd way, and strummed at the strings of your empathy. 

It was an awful thing really. 

This was far more easy when you could put him out of your mind. 

You’d told him you would give him a chance at friendship. It seemed you weren’t doing that yet. 

Ducking into an alleyway you gritted your teeth. You damned yourself, and your need to be truthful and honoring your word. It was the most annoying thing about yourself. 

With a pop, you found yourself in front of a black apartment door. Safely out of the muggle quarter, you took out a cigarette and was in the process of lighting it up when the door opened before you, revealing a surprised looking Draco. 

“Y/N?” 

You brushed past him and strolled into his apartment. “Tell me why you became a healer. Not just that you wanted to help or not follow your father, why healing?” 

He stared at you without comprehending for a moment, as you sat down on his couch and transfigured a coaster into an ash tray. “What?” 

“You said you wanted friendship. Small talk doesn’t make friendship. Real conversation does.” You mustered the best smile you could. This felt oddly vulnerable, even though he would be the one to do the talking. “So are you going to tell me or not?” 

There were a few more beats of silence before a look of comfort came over Draco. “I will. But first, want something to drink?” 

“Of course. And don’t think I won’t know what the good stuff is, Draco.” 

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #death eaters #my writing #my imagine

[ufonaut]

I feel in Stargirl we never saw Larry’s vulnerable side! Perhaps Larry being comforted by Jordan and/or Pat.. via sex? ;)

as vulnerable as larry gets babey

---

Jordan's grown resigned to spending his evening buried neck-deep in late-night paperwork and the tragic remnants of any hopes and dreams of making it home before midnight. By now, he's even reached a self-appointed break and he's got his phone in hand -- halfway engaged in a conversation with Cameron that's managed to stretch long past what's conductive to waking up in time for school tomorrow -- when a call comes up on the screen. Jordan freezes, in more ways than one, and can't find it in himself to understand what he's seeing.

Crusher Crock is what the display reads, accompanied by a picture of--

Well.

It occurs to Jordan, somewhere underneath the rush of blood in his ears and the ice spreading underneath his fingertips, that Larry must've changed his contact picture while he'd been otherwise occupied during one of their more recent... encounters. That's the best explanation Jordan's got for the fact that he's staring at Larry's dick, eternally grateful to be alone at this exact moment. A little frustrated to recognise it on sight, too.

"Larry, hi!" Jordan says the same instant he decides to answer, habitually forced into phone-appropriate cheerfulness. It might be the office that's encouraging him. "Is everything okay?"

For one thing, Larry's never once called him, Jordan knows that much. News of his exploits are usually conveyed by a simple The Gym Rats are at it again courtesy of Anaya Bowin or other interested parties. He doesn't expect Larry to sound downright distraught either, that's enough to get Jordan moving.

---

In fact, it's enough to carry Jordan through picking up an inexplicable takeout order, like this is the kind of thing they just do, and all the way to Larry's doorstep. He knocks once. Twice. Three times. Anxious with the delay, Jordan tries the door, finds it unlocked and steps in. The house remains dark, especially intimidating in the absence of moonlight. It's not the first time Jordan's gotten the distinct impression of being Larry's prey, just the first time it's happened without the mania in those too blue eyes fixed on him.

"It's Jordan?" he calls out. "Jordan Mahkent?"

As per a night that's already gone well into the bizarre, Jordan immediately proceeds to trip over a baseball bat that's been abandoned in the hallway -- a permanent fixture of the Crock household, no doubt -- and lose the fight with gravity. No one's more surprised than he is when he fails to smash his face into anything in particular and, instead, ends up in Larry's arms. At some point or another, he's emerged from the shadows. Just in time, if Jordan's got any say in the matter.

"Whoa, easy there, bud!" Larry exclaims and for a fraction of a second, his easy grin slips back into place, delighted at the sight of Jordan. If he's surprised to see him, he gives no real indication, lets Jordan dust himself off in peace and even turns the lights on as he makes it back to the living room and the couch he'd been lounging on.

In the dark.

Surrounded by, as Jordan can now see, bits and pieces of the Sportsmaster suit. Notably, the mask gazes up menacingly from the coffee table.

“What happened?” Jordan asks, setting down his paper bag next to the hockey mask. It’s hard to tell whether food had been a good idea, harder still to gauge Larry’s mood. Jordan’s already taken off his coat when the belated realisation that there’s nowhere to put it hits. In the end, he leaves it over the back of the nearest chair and joins Larry on the couch.

There’s a momentous interlude of silence.

As present circumstances would have it, the lack of eye contact is concerning enough. Larry never hesitates. He’s all in, always has been.

And yet, with his hand now gripping Jordan’s knee, it takes him another minute to come around. “She lost,” Larry says, plain and simple. It’s the same thing he’d said on the phone but Jordan’s yet to uncover its meaning. “She lost to the goddamn Civic City Atoms! The Atoms, Icy! The one team in this freakin’ world that’s named after the little guy from the JSA! Who names a team after him? Who even remembers the Atom?”

Jordan, in all honesty, doesn’t. Not really, at any rate. His once-encyclopaedic knowledge of the JSA has been gathering dust for some years now and the Atom hadn’t been on the roster for decades now to begin with.

“Wait.” Jordan frowns, thinking it out. “You said you had an emergency because-- Artemis lost a football game? I was at work, Larry!”

Looking unfazed, Larry gives Jordan a once-over and tilts his head.

It takes Jordan a minute.

“Crusher!” he agrees, indulgent, “I meant I was at work, Crusher.”

“Was that so hard, bud?” Larry laughs, patting Jordan’s knee and then, while he’s at it, a bit further up, too. “And yeah, duh, it’s an emergency. Paula took Art to train some more ‘cause they couldn’t sleep but I’m telling you, this is the first game she’s lost. It’s-- Hell, it’s devastating. We all need some comfort, y’know. C’mon, of course you do, you’re all about this touchy-feely stuff, aren’tcha?”

It takes something of a valiant effort not to dwell on Larry’s definition of the sort of loss Jordan’s familiar with. Kindly, he lets it go.

Just this once.

The less-than-subtle touches, the empty house. Jordan knows what he’s being asked here and oddly enough, he doesn’t mind it. Not what he’d expected, sure, but even he’s got to admit it beats late nights at the American Dream. It’s the first time Larry’s bothered to take the first step, Jordan’s dangerously flattered. The fragments of Sportsmaster left laying around hardly hold him back and Jordan wonders whether Larry had been on the hunt, if that’s what’d had him craving-- this. “So, um, what-- what do you want?” Jordan asks. He clears his throat, loosens his tie just enough. The temperature’s already dropped a couple degrees.

Larry reaches out to cup Jordan’s face, thumb tracing the contours of his bottom lip, ice-cold already. “Whaddya say, baby? Can you go all frozen?” he asks but he’s kissing Jordan before he’s got any chance to answer, falling right into the usual push-and-pull, hands roaming all over. Larry’s as attentive as he is impulsive.

“Yeah, yeah, I can,” Jordan breathes out once he gets some air, patches of skin gone crystalline, cracking with ice as he goes down on his knees, a touch more eager than strictly necessary.

It’s always nice doing a friend a favour.

#sportcicle #stargirl #jordan mahkent #larry crock #icicle #sportsmaster #fic #UH I HOPE THIS IS GOOD #anon #ask

[thenovelartist]

An Impromptu Proposal, 24-25

<<Previous Next>>

24. Giving up

Hospitals were soul-sucking voids. True pits of despair. It held a weighty air of hopelessness, and the smell of antiseptics was a reminder of just how many illnesses were floating around the place. Adrien was thankful that the miraculous cure always fixed everything because he never wanted to end up here.

Marinette was clinging to his hand, pulling strength from him as well as giving him the strength to be here. He clung to her tighter, needing everything she so willingly gave him to be able to get through this visit.

He knew the way to Nathalie’s room all too well. No one could figure out her ailment despite every single person in this wretched hospital knowing she was growing worse. They’d told him before that the best they could do was make her comfortable as possible. It was one of the worst things Adrien could imagine being told. That his family member was suffering and the doctors, even with all their advanced medicine and medical practices of this day and age, couldn’t do anything.

When he opened the door to Nathalie’s room, he was greeted with the typical yet no less heartbreaking sight of an all too white room that housed Nathalie: a once strong woman who was now frail in a thin hospital bed. Tubes were everywhere, in her arms and connected to the air mask on her face. The soft beeping of a heart monitor was in the background, only adding to the eeriness of this place.

“Hey Nathalie,” Adrien softly greeted, immediately pulling the only chair in the room up to her bedside.

She grunted then glanced over at Marinette.

Oh yeah. I hadn’t told her. “Ah, yes.” Adrien reached out to grab Marinette’s hand again, pulling her to sit on his knees. She was small enough to fit, and unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a choice.

“Nathalie, meet Marinette. She’s a designer’s assistant at the company, but she’s a friend of Nino’s. You remember Nino, right?”

Nathalie gave a weak nod.

“So, Marinette and I have known each other a while, and when Nino and his girlfriend started pushing us together, we found we really fit. And recently… we just got married.”

Nathalie’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I know,” Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s surprising, but we fit together really well and I’m really happy with her.”

“It’s really nice meeting you, Nathalie,” Marinette said. “I wish it would have been under better circumstances.

Nathalie gave what looked to be a shrug before she reached up to grab her mask, pulling it away from her face. “On the table,” she said, pointing a shaky finger towards the table next to her bed. “A pin.”

Adrien glanced over at the bedside table, seeing a blue and gold pin laying on it. He reached over to grab it, looking over the oddly shaped pin.

“Needed… to tell you,” Nathalie said, her voice shockingly weak compared to the once strong and authoritative tone she carried. “That… that pin… I need you to give it… to Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

His gut positively dropped. No. “W-why?” he asked, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

“Its… miraculous,” she said, before holding that air mask over her face for a moment. She took a deep breath before pulling it away. “Tell them… I’m sorry.”

No no no Adrien thought. No way. His mouth was dry, his tongue feeling like sandpaper. “You… were Mayura?”

The words almost couldn’t come out, yet he forced them. And a pang hurt his heart when he saw the guilt on Nathalie’s face. “I was,” she answered. “I… I only did it for Hawkmoth.”

“The original Hawkmoth,” Adrien clarified.

She nodded. “Your father.”

The words were so blunt, they almost went over Adrien’s head, yet they still hit Adrien in the chest, making it shockingly hard to breathe. “My father?”

Nathalie nodded. “Wanted… to bring your mother back.”

His world was going blurry around him, dark spots encroaching into his vision.

Marinette’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, her fingers slowly stroking the hair at his nape. The gesture, something akin to what Ladybug would do for Chat to keep him calm, kept him still in reality when all Adrien wanted was to fade away.

“Adrien’s father was Hawkmoth to bring back his mother,” Marinette repeated, clearly seeking clarification. “And you were Mayura in order to help him.”

Nathalie nodded. “But… Lila Rossi… Backfired on us.”

Adrien couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she said, wheezing. “For everything.”

Numbly, Adrien reached out to guide the mask back over Nathalie’s face. “Take it easy, Nathalie,” he said. “You’ve spoken a lot. I don’t want you to have a coughing fit.”

Her next words were muffled, but Adrien could still hear them. I’m sorry.

After Adrien removed his hand from her mask, Nathalie pulled it off again. “Forgive me,” she said. “And forgive your fa—”

Just as Adrien knew she would, she broke into a heaving coughing fit.

“Nathalie!”

Her heartrate had skyrocketed as she heaved, gasping and clinging to her mask.

Nurses came rushing in, asking him to leave, and ultimately, it was Marinette who pulled him out of the room.

“Adrien,” Marinette called, clinging to his arm. “Adrien?”

He barely heard her, sparing her a glance before looking down at the peacock miraculous in his hand that Nathalie had given up.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered, coaxing him out of the hospital and towards the car.

He barely registered the fact she slipped his keys out of his pocket so she could be the one to drive home. Probably for the better. Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off the miraculous in his hands most of the drive home.

 ...

25. Hawkmoth’s defeat

Nathalie was stable for now, but Adrien knew what the doctors meant by “it could be any day.” She’d looked paler than he had ever seen her, but it was her words more than her condition that had taken his whole world and tilted it on its axis.

She was Mayura, And his father had been Hawkmoth.

It was a lot to accept, and two days was hardly enough time.

When he’d gone home that night, Marinette had held him all night long as he cried, and then he called out sick that next day because he was in bad shape and he knew it.

But he couldn’t call out today. Today, Lila was meeting him in his office for a “lunch”, and he was hell-bent to get that miraculous off her no matter what it took. He didn’t care if that meant pinning her to the floor and taking if from her screaming.

He’d get that brooch, and he would end this.

His phone buzzed. He quickly checked it, only to see a message from his lady. You’ve got this. XOXO <3 You have all my ladybug luck, mon chaton.

He felt tension leave his body as he smiled at his phone. He was still anxious, but just knowing his lady was there wishing him luck…

It made him determined to succeed. For her and their future.

A knock sounded on his office door, and a quick glance at his phone proved that Lila was here for lunch. She’s here he texted back.

Got it. On my way up to back you up.

Thanks, bugaboo. He put his phone down and called out, “Enter.”

Lila opened the door, flashing him a smile. “Hey, I brought you something from my favorite place.”

“Perfect,” Adrien said, staring at the brooch attached to the ribbon on her neck. He just had to get close to her and snatch it. That was all.

She sat down on the other end of his desk and unloaded the food from the bag. Throughout the lunch, they chatted, Adrien doing everything he could to make Lila as comfortable as he could.

“You know,” Lila said, their meals nearly gone. “I… I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but now that we’re alone, I feel like I can finally come clean. I… I’ve been in love with you for the longest time.”

The smile that Adrien gave her was about seventy-five percent real. The only reason it wasn’t more was because he was trying to withhold that predatory smirk that wanted to surface. This is my chance. “I feel like you’ve alluded to as much.”

She giggled shyly. “I suppose I did. I just… it was hard to come out and say it. I’m not as direct as you,” Lila said, giving him a shy smile and even a blush. She’s a good actress. “But…I’ve had these feelings for a while now. And… I just had to tell you, I couldn’t hold back much longer.”

“Well… I’m really flattered,” Adrien said, glancing away and rubbing the back of his neck as though he was embarrassed. The thought of Marinette teasing him over her noticing that habit and teasing him about how cute it was was surely enough to put a blush on his cheeks. “I… I can’t say if I return the feelings or not, considering I don’t feel like I know you well enough to say.”

“That’s okay,” Lila assured, suddenly standing from her seat to round the desk. “I think that that’s fair of you to say. So, what about we take some time to get to know each other?”

With her new spot perched on the edge of his desk, she began rubbing her foot against his leg, sending him a sultry sort of smile.

He returned it, his opportunity becoming clearer. “I think we could work something out,” he said, standing from his seat and placing his hands on either side of her hips, allowing him to lean close to her. Please don’t kiss me he mentally begged. He would flirt that miraculous right off her neck, but he drew the line at a kiss.

She giggled, her shoulders shaking playfully. “How about this?” she said, placing a hand on his chest and causing his heart to pound uncomfortably. “I take you out to this fancy club I know. It’s a perfect chance to mix and mingle with people with connections.”

He hummed, leaning forward in a way that pushed against her hand, coaxing her to lean back. He hadn’t expected to get her all the way down on his desk, but he supposed she was more vulnerable that way. “That sounds good to me.”

“Why, Mr. Agreste,” she purred, a new gleam in her eyes that he hadn’t expected to appear. “Quite forward, aren’t we?”

“I prefer to get straight to the point.”

She chuckled, a dangerous kind of chuckle that he wasn’t comfortable with. “Do you do this to all the girls you meet with?”

“Only the ones I find interesting.” Which was actually not a lie. He was very interested in Marinette, and he was very interested in the broach on Lila’s neck.

“I didn’t know you had this in you,” she purred, shifting in such a way that brought attention to her breasts.

Not that he cared about her body. But he played up this ruse anyway. “You’re just a vixen, aren’t you?” he said, reaching to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not so innocent yourself. You seem like you’ve done this before.”

“Once or twice,” he dismissed, as he slowly moved his hand from where he tucked her hair behind her ear to cradle the back of her neck. From there, he could feel the button on the back that was holding the ribbon on her neck. His smirk widened. That would be easy to pull off.

Problem was she reached up to grab his tie, slowly pulling him down. “Well, want to make it a third?”

He looked at that broach, a rash plan snapping to his mind. “Sure.”

He leaned down the rest of the way, shocking Lila into gasping. But in a flash, he grabbed the brooch with his teeth causing her to shutter and her grip to loosen, giving him just enough time to undo the button and pull away from her.

“Thanks for the gift, Butterlie,” he said, her eyes widening in shock as she propped herself up on her elbows. “I’ll treasure it.”

She was stunned speechless. “W-what?”

But he was already making his way towards the door, slinging it open to reveal Marinette standing there.

“Seems like I didn’t need to intrude,” she said with a smirk.

“Of course not, bugaboo,” he said, glancing over at Lila. “I had it all under control.”

“I knew I could trust you, kitty,” she returned, also looking at Lila with a wickedly victorious grin on her face.

“W-what’s going on?” Lila said, her voice shaky with betrayal as she stood from the desk.

“Poor butterfly looks a little stunned,” Adrien purred out.

“Then let me explain,” Marinette said. “After you caused us so much trouble with all these akumas and all our failed attempts to steal your miraculous and your wonderful little ‘Anti-Superhero Fanclub’, we knew we had to try a different approach. Lucky for us, you couldn’t keep your sights off my husband, so we decided to use it against you.”

“You… you’re…” Suddenly, her expression went from stunned to furious.

“You’ve lost,” Marinette firmly iterated. “Go home, and we’ll let you off the hook. Otherwise, you’re gonna have five superheroes shamelessly haunting you. It will be easy enough to show off what the butterfly miraculous looks like and prove you were the one who wore it.”

Lila’s face grew red, but she was still speechless.

Adrien pointed to the door. “You better go, or I can call security to take you away?”

She growled, stamping her foot like a child. “You’re disgusting! I hope you both live miserable lives for tormenting me like this! Stealing that thing I worked so hard to get. Do you know who the original Hawkmoth was?”

“My father,” Adrien coldly answered, shocking Lila once again. “Go home, Lila. You’ll never torment Paris again.”

In a flash, she shoved Adrien, slamming him against the wall and reaching for the miraculous in his hand. But Marinette was quicker, yanking her off of him and tackling her to the ground.

A green figure and yellow one suddenly appeared, each grabbing Lila and holding her securely against the ground. “Whoa there, girl,” Carapace said. “I think Chat Noir and Ladybug here gave you a pretty good deal. But if you don’t want to take it, we’re happy to make you public, aren’t we, Rena?”

“Very much,” Rena said, appearing in the doorway, phone in hand. “I’m sure the Ladyblogger will love to see this.”

“I’m sure everyone in Paris will,” Queen Bee agreed, helping Carapace pull a restrained Lila off the ground. “After all, the Police are waiting outside and they’ll love to know just who makes their lives so miserable by causing chaos around the city on a weekly basis. Akuma attacks take up a lot of resources, don’t you know.”

“No!” Lila cried, resisting every step that Queen Bee and Carapace forced her to take. “You can’t do this!”

“We already did,” Marinette said. “It’s your fault, really. Had you not used the moth miraculous for evil, it wouldn’t have come to this. But when it comes to villains, anything is fair game.”

With one last cry, Lila was forced to march toward the elevator.

Marinette walked over to Rena to pat her shoulder. “You should go with them. Thanks for catching that.”

“No prob,” Rena said with a grin. “This is headline gold.”

Marinette chuckled as Rena quickly ran to the elevator and slipped inside right as the doors closed, leaving Marinette and Adrien standing with the butterfly miraculous.

The last one that had been corrupted.

“Well,” Tikki said, peeking out of Marinette’s jacket. “I think that went pretty well.”

“Well?” Plagg challenged, appearing from his spot in the desk drawer. “He was flirting with the enemy. And I thought it was bad when he and Ladybug are all googly eyes at each other.”

“That’s enough, Plagg,” Adrien chastised. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get this thing to Master Fu as quickly as I can.”

Marinette nodded her agreement. “I think that sounds like a really good idea.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladynoir july 2019 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #nathalie sancoeur #lila rossi #the villains fall #rena rouge #carapace #Queen Bee

[tslasvegas]

Finale Episode: “This has been AMAZING.” - Pat

Drama? Caused. Immunity? Mine. (hopefully) Maybe I should've just voted Liv to cause a super messy re-vote but this was an okay outcome I suppose. Now I just need to win immunity OR convince Keegan and Pat to vote with me for one more round. :) Balls to the fucking wall. I'm here to win. 

So final 6 tribal council was a bit of a shitstorm. But I’m still here so it turned out not too bad and Kailyn, the one person I’ve basically never talked to got the boot. Pat played an idol I didn’t know he had, Jaiden played a legacy advantage on himself and Livingston played an idol on me. Bless his heart. Liv is the best. If I can’t win he absolutely deserves to. And now we have a stupid endurance type challenge that requires 6 hours of dedication and I don’t want to do it, because I feel like I could make better use of my day tomorrow but whatever. We’ll see what happens. I would ideally love to have Jeff gone next, and then Jaiden. If it’s a final 2, I’m going with Liv, whether or not he beats me I don’t care. There’s a case to be made for taking Pat out instead of Jaiden. But we shall see how this challenge goes.

....five seconds later

I hate this challenge

....five seconds later

Why'd this challenge have to be 6 hours? I get that we're at final 5 but man this is awful. Sorry Dan, Sorry Jake but I hate this challenge. 

Okay so I don't really remember when the last time I gave a confessional was. So we're just gonna cover the Xavier tribal and hope I didn't already do that lol. This tribal was extremely good for my game, and along with likely the John/Super Idol tribal, will be the time I use as my defining moment in the game, as it shows that I wasn't entirely reliant on Jaiden to get me places, because that seems like the most likely argument against me winning. I could very well see people coming in with a preconceived notion that I was in some way carried by Jaiden, or the fact that I'm alive is because of him. This tribal, where Jaiden thought he could take me out since he knew what the vote count would be with my vote steal, is evidence of that. Luckily for me, I had one more card up my sleeve with the extra vote. And this is why no matter how much you may trust someone, always have an ace in the hole. But on top of that, blowing nearly every advantage in the game, while also being vulnerable at that tribal, is about the best that things could've gone for me. It shows that despite voting out Joey, I still had the trust of Keegan and Liv, and it shows that I had plenty of my own agency in the game. With the next challenge being a logic puzzle, I was not feeling confident going into it. I'm alright at them, not notably great, but when I was practicing, the average times there were something like ~2-3 minutes, which I was just not able to match the pace of. But I did the challenge, and managed to pull off a clean 4 minute time, plenty to spare to win the challenge which I was happy about. This also gave me some breathing room after being to close to going home for comfort. Going into the next tribal, I do know that I have to be wary of Jaiden. The way he talks about him having received legacy from Xavier, saying that Xavier went home with an idol, a lot of his actions there were very sus and I know that I can't take everything at face value. Because of this, I decided to take advantage of being immune, and tried to get Liv on board for a potential F3 of Pat/Him/Me. The caveat would be that Keegan goes home here, just because he has strong potential of winning challenges, which is very true. Liv seemed skeptical, and said he'd sleep on it, which really should've been my first inclination that something is wrong. But I asked him again the next day, and he said "he was open to it". That should've been strike 2, and I'll admit, I was being a little over confident. At that point, Jaiden starts talking to me and is really paranoid about things going wrong, acting like he's going to get voted out. But he insists he has legacy, so everything is fine. I'm just letting him be paranoid, but I also explain that if he's not going to be straightforward with me about what he's thinking for tribal, I'm not particularly interested in exploring possibilities that can hardly be considered possibilities. Come tribal, and what do you know, Jaiden was right. 2 idols and a legacy get played, and Kailyn goes home. Which even if a roundabout way, is what I intended on happening if Keegan had had an idol, so I was not upset about the outcome at all. This also works to my advantage, because it gives Jaiden an "I told you so" moment, and should make him be more confident in going to FTC with me, should I lose these immunities. I just need to get to FTC and I can tell a great story on why I should win. Making it there is the hardest part though

Really gonna go 6 hours posting every 5 minutes. I hate this.

General thoughts on how I think end game should play out from my perspective: My main reasoning for why I think I’ll win though, is just who my alternatives are. Liv won’t win the game. Too small of a player, too defensive of moves. Could be considered an underdog, but in general not pulling much. Keegan, probably too quiet, and like Liv, too defensive. The ideal “contrarian” candidate though, due to general likability and not really doing anything wrong. Pat, should in theory be a budget version of me. From what Jaiden says, he’s less social than me, although admittedly, my social game has fallen off hard throughout the end. It’s difficult to keep up so much though when I don’t have a life to speak of for myself. Jaiden, the clear other option, at least from my perspective. Had had many failed moves, not always a clear direction on what he’s doing or where he’s going, could be seen as second fiddle to me. I think that FTC would mostly come down to, in a me vs Jaiden scenario, which of us people see as the second to each other. People could take my survival as due to Jaiden keeping me safe, but Jaiden calling the shots. People could take me as being the one really in the middle, controlling moreso how each vote turned out. Personally I think the thinking in my favor is more likely/reasonable, but Jaiden has the personality that people will want to support as well. If jury is more game oriented, I probably win. If they aren’t, Jaiden may come out on top. 

I feel like this is my Tumblr Survivor breakthrough. I finally made it to the final four. The finale episode. I'm not on the jury quite yet. The end is so close I can literally taste it. But my work isn't done just yet. With Jeff gone, I oddly feel a lot of weight lifted off my shoulders and I can finally breathe again. It wasn't the primary or even secondary plan I had going into this, but if I want a chance to win this game, I have to take care of him first. It also seemed as though there was an opportunity for me to create a little chaos in the event that this game becomes a final two instead of a F3. People are going to want to cut me at the first chance they get I think, but now that it's a F2 they can hold it off one more vote, no? I tried to plant a seed into Pat's head that Livingston and Keegan are a tight duo and while we could totally get rid of Keegan tonight, we could do Livingston instead and have better odds at the F4 because Keegan/Jeff are going to be laser-focused on going after each other. But then Pat went and told Jeff everything in the chat we have together so I flipped it around and made Pat responsible for going after Livingston. So now I go back to Keegan and tell him that Pat was doing whatever it took to keep Jeff safe and that I was the person keeping Pat on focus to get rid of Jeff. It became way more logical after Pat started throwing Liv's name out there for real for me to get rid of Jeff, because either Pat votes Liv and looks like a fucking shady bitch in the F4, OR Pat votes Jeff with me and we share the blame for getting rid of Jeff equally. Keegan owes me - I just saved him from getting voted out. I could've easily voted out Keegan tonight! I could've left two guaranteed votes in his direction but I didn't. Pat owes me - I convinced him the necessary moves and walked him through two big plans heading into tribal, but I kept him up to date on what he wants. At the end of it, he still begged me to tell him what we needed to do - he flipped back to Liv and then told me, then begged me to tell him what he should do, and I told him to do Jeff. He voted correctly because of me. Livingston owes me - As far as he needs to know, Pat and Jeff were going to vote his ass out of here with me had I not turned Pat's vote back and kept Keegan on close watch. Livingston and I have a decent relationship, but I've now saved him more times than I've voted against him (again, as far as he knows) and that's gotta count for something. This season wasn't about making best friends. It was about winning Tumblr Survivor, so yes, I've backstabbed along the way and voted people out mercilessly. But if I make it to the final two, I kept it real with the friends I made along the way but also put my game first. I feel like I can justify that because I made it this far without anybody ever writing my name down and everything I've done, whether its voting out Kailyn or using the powers of suggestion to drive a deeper wedge between Pat and everyone else, has had a bigger purpose than just surviving one more day. It has felt like a huge house of cards up until this point. I didn't play the simplistic "speaks for itself" game that I wanted in the beginning. Instead, I am going to have to justify every single move if I even make it to the final two. It's crazy. I expected to go home tonight had I not won immunity, and now I'm expecting to go home every night until I reach the finish, but like I said there's no more stress now. I'm fully galvanized here. I've been through the worst of the worst, now all I have to do is close my eyes, exhale, and let go. If I can pull off just two more challenges, I think I'm going to be the winner. You know, it's funny, I didn't come into this experience wanting to play a perfect game. It's so.. unrealistic especially with the type of game that I play, but it might happen? I'm not entirely sure. It would be such a good gift to me on my birthday if I do it because its looking like the FTC will happen on my birthday so umm.. Tumblr Survivor gods I know I've been praying to you a lot this season, but truly, please let that happen LOL

So Jaiden won immunity which is fine. Because Jeff didn’t win and that is all that matters at this point. So after some discussion and some Jaiden freaking the absolute fuck out, we ended up unanimously voting out Jeff. And for some odd reason, Jeff decided to switch a vote from me to Livingston. So I currently only have one vote against me and it was blocked by an idol. Yahoo!! I am in a very precarious situation at this point. Liv and I have a final 2 deal. Jaiden and I have a final 2 deal. Liv and I also agreed to vote out Jaiden in 4th place once Jeff was out. So.... I’m actually hoping that Jaiden wins this next immunity challenge so that can’t happen. And at that point we just vote out Pat and everything is good. That’s the absolute best case scenario at this point because it guarantees I make the final 2 regardless of who actually wins the final challenge. And believe me, if that’s the case I’m throwing the challenge LOL Liv will take me. Jaiden will take me. Why should I win? So yeah, fingers crossed that Jaiden wins this Cards Against Humanity game so we can have the best case scenario happen in this game. 

JEFF IS VOTED OUT AT F5

If I don't go home tonight I will be completely shocked

JAIDEN IS VOTED OUT AT F4

Final 3! One more challenge to go! And I win a fire making challenge. Suck on that! Also don’t come to my DMs whining that I voted for you when you voted for me too. And we’re just playing your game? Honey, you wouldn’t have had a game without us there. There’s this thing called threat level management. Learn it some time. Glad us three undeserving Palazzo members are the final 3. Time to win this final immunity challenge.

Y'all really thought my extra ass wasn't going to write one last confessional? Yeah right! This is probably the last one I'll ever write in a main season so let's make it good. First things first, some acknowledgements. I want to scream this from a mountain top, I really am just so thankful for the opportunity to play and Jake and Dan have my whole heart forever for giving it to me. I can't thank them enough and I really think this will be a positive experience that I hold in my heart forever. So yeah!! If you're reading this (but who is, really?) just know that Dan and Jake are KINGS!!! I also want to acknowledge how lucky I am to have gotten to where I was in this game, because luck did have a lot to do with all of this. I know that my game might not have been as good as it could've been in particular moments and maybe I boxed myself in at the end in a couple different ways, but luck always found a way to get me out of some sticky spots and I am humble enough to admit it. After I got voted out, I wasn't particularly upset with myself because I knew that if I didn't win the immunity, I'd be going out in this spot. I'm surprised that I had to make fire, but I wish that I had spent some time learning how to do slide puzzles really quick because honestly my performance in it was pathetic. Either way, not mad about it, that's just how the cookie crumbled and I probably would've lost to Livingston, too. The relief to all of this is that I got to join the jury full of people that I genuinely wanted to talk to again because I didn't have anybody left in the game that I particularly found great interest communicating with anymore. Keegan treating me like I didn't just spend my valuable time actually being his only friend was probably the lowest moment of the entire game for me. I wasn't even mad that I was losing as much as I was mad that he lied to my face when I confronted him with the truth, then called me a bitch because I told him I would have kept my word to him had he not tried to take me out. For me, that was fucking awful. The petty side of me wants to make final tribal particularly awful for Keegan, but the new and improved side of me wants to just tell him off and let him lose like about a thousand other Tumblr Survivor flops have over the past several years. When I came into this game, I didn't fully expect myself to make it as far as I did and have really had this gigantic transformation like I did. At the same time though, I'm not surprised that I did because I was living the transformation for like two years since I last showed my face in this community. The Jaiden seen in Las Vegas is the Jaiden that I'm finally in love with. It's the player that I've never been stable enough to be for almost five years now, and I am so proud to say that now. Without a doubt, I dominated this season. I know that. So many outcomes went the way that I had set them up, from getting rid of Stephanie to Joey handing me the legacy advantage. Even when they didn't go my way, I didn't become the next big target even though I said I was going home literally every single tribal since the beginning. There's a lot more gamewise that I could say, but I know Dan and Jake are aware of that and they're probably the only people even reading this now. So I guess that part will just stay between me and them. When I made my entrance to the jury, I was a little surprised to see such an overwhelmingly positive response from people like Kailyn, Joey, John, Xavier, and Andrew. It made me feel so validated as a player, a feeling that I have literally never had before in my whole entire time playing these games. It's so great how much that boosted my real-life confidence. After being part of the org community for like seven years by now, I've been able to separate the real world with the online world pretty well, but while devastating losses in the past haven't truly rocked my real world much, this positive reception will have a lasting impact on me for a really long time. I can't say how much it all means to me, because it's so profound and I can't explain it all in words. It just makes me feel optimistic despite being a chronic pessimist. Phew! Although I'm not the winner that I should've been, I am truly proud of myself. I feel like I've finally rolled that fucking stone ball up the hill and thrown it down the mountain on the other side, letting it tumble and kill my enemies on its way down. I think I came into this thinking that I was Sisyphus, but by now I've realized that I'm actually Kratos, the divine personification of strength and power. So maybe my story of never feeling complete from these silly games was never the problem I was looking to solve. My journey was about finding the strength and power I never knew that I had before. The confidence of being able to be at my lowest in games and real life, and somehow finding my way out of the darkness of both realms in tandem. I am basically living in the golden hour of my 23rd year of life, and this game just happened to take part in the midst of that. Good and bad, I am so thankful to have had these experiences shape what this period meant to me. I am living in a world now where the truth is that I am worthy. Not only because of this silly game, but like I said, the confidence gained here affirms that truth. I will never forget it. I'm not at all a religious person, but there's one verse in the Bible that I've always felt drawn to, and more so right now than ever before. John 8:32 - "Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." And now, with this last confessional to wrap my journey up, I am free. 

LIVINGSTON IS VOTED OUT AT F3. 

This is it. This is the end. I’ve done everything I can do and now it’s up to the jury to decide. This game was a blast, a true gamble actually playing. I’m proud of what I’ve done and how far I made it. I’m no longer a 5 time flop! 

I cannot believe this season had the end game that it did. Winning final immunity was a check off my bucket list, but getting there how I did was very well done in my opinion. I really hope that’s it’s respected by the jury. It’s nerve racking when the other person winning is valid. I hope o shows my impact on the end part of the game being influential enough to get votes. I may have been messy by being incorrect but I think I did well over all. I just want Jeff to know that that his vote off was really the hardest of the season. I hope lulu really was a benefit to me winning by making a final appearance. Queen lulu. Honestly no matter what happens I am so proud of myself. I know I’m getting at least one vote so that’s means good things, if I win this game I will be ecstatic because it’s been five years since I entered this whole community through tumblr survivor. I hope my game is respected and that I am to be rewarded. Thanks everyone for an amazing game this has been AMAZING 

[plumoh]

[NatsuYuu] hydrangea • sincerity

Word count: 1215

Summary: Natsume meets one of his cousins again, and they have a heartfelt conversation.

Note: AO3 link. Written for @ichigo-ichie-zines NatsuYuu Blooming Zine!

Through his disorientation and surprise, Natsume wasn't quite sure what to make of himself.

“I'm sorry to show up unannounced,” his cousin awkwardly mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was in the city for a business meeting, and I remembered you were living here...”

His distant cousin, Mori Yuuma, the son of the last family Natsume had been with, had never judged him for what he did (or did not), not openly at least; Natsume was grateful he had not once questioned him about the strange happenings at his house.

“I wasn't expecting to see you,” Natsume admitted nervously, his knuckles turning white around the strap of his bag. “It's quite a way from your home.”

A home Natsume had messed up by trying to catch an insignificant youkai—a home close to the mountain where he had once sealed a one-eyed youkai that threatened to eat them. Yuuma sighed, and Natsume berated himself for acting awkwardly with someone he hadn’t left on bad terms with. At his feet, Nyanko-sensei shuffled closer; his weight on his shoe was oddly comforting.

“That came out wrong, I'm sorry,” Natsume amended.

“It's alright, don't worry.” Yuuma attempted a smile. “How have you been? Do you get along with the Fujiwaras? How is school?”

He looked genuinely interested in the answers, his face softening after such a clumsy start. Yuuma had never been one to be angered or upset easily, not even when his parents were fighting about the boy causing them such unnecessary stress; his calm demeanor was probably one of his greatest assets. Natsume found himself starting to relax, as he had used to do around him.

“Everything is fine. I'm...glad to live with Touko-san and Shigeru-san. They've given me more than I thought I ever deserved.”

Natsume's shoulders drooped and he bit his bottom lip, suddenly self-conscious about his words and fearing that they would come across as insulting towards the Mori family. He really needed to learn to properly keep his emotions in check if he didn't want to be misunderstood (hadn't it always been an issue?). He averted his gaze, fixing it instead on the endless trees beyond the large fields. Yuuma followed his line of sight, and when he spoke, his voice expressed anything but irritation.

“I'm happy for you, Takashi-kun. I know things haven't always been good for you, so I'm really happy you found a place in this town.” He paused, his lips stretching into a warm smile. “Let’s go on a walk? It’s a nice day.”

Memories of the two of them going home at sunset side by side sprang to Natsume’s mind, and he couldn’t refuse such a request.

They walked on empty roads and climbed stairs, shadows of tree branches falling over them and noises of bikes and cars reaching their ears. Yuuma walked quietly, admiring the scenery that was much different from the city. He asked questions about the flourishing lands and the far-away temples and the sweet smell of pastries that Natsume happily answered. This town harbored so many treasures that he came to cherish, and sharing them filled him with a sense of pride he never quite experienced before. His enthusiasm must have been clear, since Yuuma was looking at him with unconcealed contentment.

“I never said anything when my parents were being so harsh to you. I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t the first time Yuuma had expressed apologies on his parents’ behalf, and back then, Natsume had to admit with shame he’d thought it was simply to ease his own conscience—why would the son of the family be so kind to someone like him? But right now, looking at his cousin’s face, he realized it was stupid of him to have thought that way. He shook his head.

“There’s no need to apologize, Yuuma-san. It’s not your fau…”

Natsume trailed off, every fiber of his body going rigid as a pale wrinkled hand hovered above Yuuma’s ear, and lightly touched his hair. Natsume’s mouth opened and closed, eyes wildly searching for the youkai, and found them lounged on the low wall next to them. They gave him a toothy smile once they noticed his staring.

“A heartfelt emotion deserves a heartfelt manifestation.”

And they vanished without another word, leaving Natsume speechless. He glanced at Nyanko-sensei, who didn’t seem to be giving any mind to that peculiar encounter.

“Takashi-kun?”

Natsume snapped back to attention and intently stared at Yuuma, looking for any signs of a curse, and was baffled to see pink and white flowers adorning Yuuma’s hair. The delicate and fresh petals formed a shape resembling a heart, round and generous. Yuuma didn’t look like he was bothered by this addition, or even remotely aware of it. That was...good, right?

“Nothing, I just spaced out.” Natsume shook his head, and smiled. “I’m glad you came to see me.”

A slight frown was the only indication of Yuuma’s confusion, but then he nodded and kept the conversation going, always at ease. Natsume, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring at the flowers. They were inexplicably evoking a powerful feeling within him, like they had been specifically made to draw his attention. He had seen this species before, though he had never learned its name; it was difficult to forget the way the petals opened towards the sky, as though they were welcoming rays of sunshine into their core. Natsume didn’t dare touch them, for fear of making them crumble away.

It was almost sunset when they parted ways, hours later. Yuuma patted Natsume’s shoulder and promised to come visit whenever he could.

“I hope we can talk more in the future.” Yuuma nodded at Natsume, grinning.

Natsume could only return the same grin. “Of course. Thank you for today, I had fun.”

Yuuma waved it off with a laugh, then left. They had spoken more to each other in a single afternoon than they had in the few months they had lived together. Then again, people changed, and so did the relationships they maintained. Or perhaps, their heart was still the same, and the thing that had changed was  the way they showed their intentions.

That was probably the reason why Natsume had always tried to believe in the goodness of others.

The flowers scattered in a flurry of bright pink and pure white as soon as Yuuma turned away from him, though Natsume still remembered its fragrance and its radiance all the way home. Even if he couldn’t touch them, to him, their soft glow and warm presence were proof of the genuine feelings they carried.

Seeing that, Nyanko-sensei rolled his eyes. “That youkai meddled in others’ affairs and exaggerated everything.”

Knowing full well he wouldn’t get the story out of Sensei, Natsume looked up the meaning himself. Youkai liked to be evasive and mysterious, but their actions always had a flavor of intent Natsume still couldn’t quite grasp—though he was starting to understand their desire to help, at times.

Poring over Touko-san’s thin book on gardening, he found the meaning of apologies attached to the sweet colors of a flower beating like a heart—the hydrangea. Natsume closed his eyes; he recalled Yuuma’s expression when he’d said those words, open and vulnerable but resolute—a heartfelt emotion indeed.

#natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume takashi #madara #my fanfic

[skip-to-my-lup]

that’s not my name pt. 5

Previous

The fifth time hurts a bit.

It's been over a month and Taako has yet to hear from this Lup girl.

He shouldn’t be all that disappointed. There was also a part of him that understood all of the logical reasons why. They didn't even know if they were really related.  They were effectively strangers. And, if they weren’t actually related. Then, there was no real reason for them to include each other in their own lives.

It's just... there's another part of him, a small part mind you, that's almost worried. Did something happen to her? Did she second guess all of this?

Is he not worth her time?

No matter how much he's tried to reign in his hope, it had grown ever since that first old man first mistook him for this Lup girl. And while he has gotten used to forgetting about his childhood hopes to find his family (a family, really). The thought that he isn't completely alone in this world has rooted itself deep in his heart and refuses to let go, despite his doubts and attempts to get rid of it.

Waiting it out takes a lot out of him, though. And Taako was already tired from his job all of the time. So he does his best to forget about all of it.

Kravitz and his son, Angus, fill a lot of his time, which helps. A lot.

If Taako is being honest, involving himself with someone who has a child scared him quite a bit at first. He's more of the free-spirit type. And he didn't usually do the whole kids... thing.

Much to Taako's surprise, though, Angus is easy to get along with.

It helps that the kid is smart. And not even just book smart, which he very much is, he is also, oddly enough, quite street smart. He's always looking into mysteries and his ability to suss out a situation could be downright terrifying if the kid wasn't also kind of cute.

And, to top it all off, he only got annoying when Taako was tired. Which, all things considered, isn't because Angus was actually annoying. It's not like the kid can help Sazed's worsening attitude or something.

And Kravitz...

Kravitz is a godsend.

Granted, their first date alone had been pretty... awkward to say the least. Not like he could really blame the guy. He loves his kid with all of his heart. It was only natural that he had to make sure Taako wasn't going to just waltz in and out of their lives leaving a brokenhearted kid behind. It's something that Taako respected immensely that night and can't help but admire more and more as the days go by.

Once he knew that Taako wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, though, he warmed almost immediately. Now he gushes about the things he loves (mostly Angus). And, to top it all off, he isn't afraid to give Taako the best hugs that he's  ever received.

Best part was that they didn't have to do the whole song and dance thing that usually came with dating someone. No awkward kiss after the third date. No posturing to appear to be so much cooler than either of them really were. Since Kravitz and Angus are a packaged deal, skipping to just chilling at the McDonald house just... made sense. And felt so much more natural than any sort of dating formula that Taako used to follow.

They did go on a fancy date or two. But it was probably going to be an infrequent thing. Which would make them special. And Taako adores the idea of planning a special night instead of worrying about if he can afford lavish dates. Not that he wouldn't take Kravitz on as many wonderful dates as he could. There just wasn't any rush.

Today, though,Taako is out and about with Angus.

Kravitz had mentioned needing to find a baby sitter for the kid so that he could go to an event or something for his job. He'd also mentioned how he'd love it if the two of them bonded on their own. Now, Taako isn't a genius, but sometimes he comes up with baller ideas. And, the idea of killing two birds with one stone was almost too easy to come up with.

Kravitz was ecstatic when he mentioned it to him

Taako had been so proud of himself for coming up with the idea. But, now that he's out with Angus, by himself. It scares him a bit (a lot) to be wholly responsible for another person's well-being. Also, impressing this kid seems super impossible.

But, in the end, it's surprisingly easy, all things considered.

All of the places they visit are places that Taako normally wouldn't go to by himself: the park by the lake, a local cafe, and the library. Taako'd had no idea how to entertain a kid, so he'd asked Angus to take him to all of his favorite places. And the kid had delivered, quite enthusiastically. And, while they're all in wildly different places in the city, he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed. Despite how much his feet hurt from the day before...

The kid's excitement is far too infectious for its own good.

They're in the library now. Angus can't stop talking about the latest book that he wants to read. He looks around as he gestures wildly. And while Taako can only follow along so far, he’d have to read one of these books to really get what this kid was saying, it's still pretty adorable to see how excited it makes him

After a while, Angus turns to Taako, smile wide. "I have to show you a book, sir!"

Taako tries to tell him that he can drop the sir shtick, but Angus is suddenly pulling him towards the back of the library with more force than he’d expected from such a small child. He can't help but notice that, while the kid is still talking excitedly about this book, his posture is stiff and there’s an urgency in his steps that wasn’t there before. It's quite suspicious.

Once they're in a secluded part of the library, Angus picks up a book at random. Then, under his breath, he says:

"Someone is following you, sir."

Taako goes to check for himself, but Angus shoves the book into his hands and mimics pointing something out on the page. Taako look down at pictures of plants, unfocused on the page.

"Don't be so obvious," the boy chastises. As if he's done this before. Which, he probably has, from what Kravitz has said about his sleuthing escapades.  

"Who is it?" Taako asks. He pretends to be interested in what's on the page. Something about poisonous plants, he half notices a picture of bella donna in the corner.

"I've never seen her before. But, she's been following us at least from the cafe.

Which had been two hours ago, half of which they’d spent riding a bus from the other side of town.

Taako turns to Angus, was this kid nuts?

"Why didn't you say something earlier?!"

Angus shushes him and mimes pointing to another picture, bell flower.

"I wasn't sure if it was a coincidence or not until she followed us into the library." Angus looks up and nods. "You can look now, sir."

Taako follows Angus' gaze and find a woman pretending to be overly interested in a book. There's a shock of white hair on her head (he'd kill for a dye job that good) and her clothes are conservative in a way Taako could never wear, but this woman pulls off really well. Maybe a business professional?

"Sir."

Taako turns. "Yeah, Ango?"

"I think I can cause a distraction if you want to make a break for it."

Taako's blood runs cold.

Was this kid suggesting that he just leave him here?!

Ok, he's definitely going to have a discussion with Kravitz about allowing Angus to read any more detective books. Didn't matter that the kid wasn't technically his, he really didn't like that his first response to a would-be stalker was to run interference for him, the adult, leaving him, the child , vulnerable to bring abducted.

"We're not chancing a kidnapping today, kid."

"I can take care of myself! Besides, she's not paying any attention to me. She's only been watching you the whole time, sir"

Taako frowns. If that's the case...

The likelihood that she's a part of that weird-ass group of people that he keeps running into seems pretty likely the longer he thinks about it.

Well, if she wasn't going to seek him out, then it's on him, he supposes.

Better to get it out of the way so that he and Angus can get back to hanging out.

"Yeah, well Taako can take care of himself, too."

He doesn't give Angus any warning before he walks over to the odd woman.

"Can I help you?" He asks once he's nearby.

This straightforwardness throws her for a loop. She looks to be the type to not be easily flustered. But she's obviously never met Taako before so...

She clears her throat and composes herself in record time.

He'd have been impressed if she hadn't been stalking him all day.

"I'm not sure we should really do this now," she says, looking at Angus, pointedly.

"Pretty sure the kid can handle hearing about whatever beef you have with me. Right?"

Angus nods.

The woman sighs. "Alright. I wanted to handle this with delicacy, but if you insist..."

Taako raises an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.

This ought to be good.

Giving up all pretense of pretending, she shuts the book in her hand and places it carefully back on the bookshelf. She takes a deep breath and turns to Taako anger burning coolly in her eyes.

"I have to admit. I thought better of you. Did you know that Barry's actually been planning to propose to you? Do you even care about his feelings, Lup?"

Hachi Machi.

It takes everything in Taako not to laugh in this lady's face. He can feel a stitch in his side form from the effort, but valiantly keeps his composure. Mostly.

"And all of your friends!" She continues. " Did you even stop to think about how your... your adultery would look to them? No one is going to side with you on this!"

She takes a deep breath and collects herself. She hadn't yelled, but her composure had broken.

"Did you... Did you even think of how I would feel?" Her voice breaks on that last one.

He really should stop her before she goes much further. He can't fully empathize with what she's going through, but he does feel some semblance of pity. Also it’d probably be a dick move to ruin this Lup girl’s life without reason.

And he doesn't need boy-wonder here getting any wrong ideas.

"I think you've got the wrong tall, blonde, good-looking person here, lady," he says, not unkindly.

Her brown eyes narrow, but he cuts her off before she can ingest any more of her foot via her open mouth.

"When was the last time you talked to... what'd you say his name was? Barry?"

"Last week."

"He ever mention meeting a Lup-look-a-like named, Taako a couple months back?"

Her face scrunches up. "No... Lup. I really don't think—"

"Give him a call."

"Lup. If you just promise to break things off with that man and promise not to meet up with him again, then I won't—"

"Call him."

The woman sighs. She pulls out her phone and presumably makes a call.

"It's your funeral, Lup."

"Pretty sure you're the one that's going to be embarrassed to death here, but go off I guess."

Taako looks over to Angus. He's furiously taking down notes. Great. He really hopes the kid is objective with his note-taking.

"Yes. Hello, Barry?" She starts. "Yes, I'm okay. I was just calling to see if you couldn't help me debunk something. See, I have Lup here, pretending—"

The woman's eyebrows knit together.

"What do you—" She turns to Taako. She looks him up and down.Trying to make sense of him and whatever Barry must be telling her.

Then, mortification settles on her face.

Bingo.

"Oh. I see."

Taako can't help but burst out laughing. He laughs so hard that his sides start hurting again and everyone stares at them.

"Well, tha—" He can see the embarrassment morph into annoyance. "Yeah. Yeah he is."

She rolls her eyes as she extends her phone to him. "Here."

"What?" He asks, staring at the proffered phone.

"Just take it," she says.

He does.

Then, a voice that sounds familiar, but not too familiar speaks.

"Hey, we've really gotta work on this whole phone number thing.

#Taako Taaco #angus mcdonald #taz lucretia #sgsfanfiction #taz fanfic #taz balance #the adventure zone balance #sorry this took a while! #hope you guys like it!

[ironforgedrp]

     ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔰:   ᴋʏᴍᴀᴇʀᴀ, ʀʏᴄʜᴀʀᴅ ʜᴀʀʟᴀᴡ, ᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴜʟʟʏ, ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ, ᴇɴᴅʏᴍɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀɴᴅᴇʀʟʏ, ᴋʏʀᴀ ʙᴀʀᴀᴛʜᴇᴏɴ, ᴍᴏʀʀᴇᴄ ᴄʟᴇɢᴀɴᴇ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ ɢʀᴇʏᴊᴏʏ

    as the first game to start off the second day, many of the attendees are hungover, still drunk, hard up from a long night of celebrations and wine, feasting and fucking after the first day of games were finished.   many also sported bruises and a busted lip, evidence of some not paying off their lost wagers.  though, despite all that, with many never having seen hand to hand outside of the occasional drunken squabble, the crowd looks on with interest. there is a smattering of familiar names, familiar houses, and two still unexpected yet familiar female faces.

   entering the bound-knuckle, weapon-less hand-to-hand combat is the storm queen kyra baratheon who had made it to the top five in the melee the day before and tied with fellow hand-to-hand competitor lord rychärd harlaw for the first place in the horse race.    also the kymaera, a fast-becoming betting favourite after her spectacular win against another hand to hand competitor, lord morrec clegane and third place winner of the melee the tyrell loyal azriel.  ser endymion manderly, the third place archery winner from the previous day also stands as competitor, as does lord viktor greyjoy and prince tate tully of the riverlands.

      𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 ℜ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡,

      many clearly expect the two women to be pitted against each other, and there are scattered cries of outrage when the pairings are announced, beginning with the first of the melee champion kymaera and the riverlands prince tate.   whatever doubts are cast on a woman being paired against a man are quickly quelled as the woman fires blow after relentless blow, cat like reflexes in blocking and defending herself against her opponents blows   the riverlands prince and queensguard of the dragon queen is by no means an unworthy competitor as he sweeps her feet from underneath her and attempt to pin her down - but it seems only a few exertion-filled seconds later that the kymaera once again shows her prowess and locks the tully lord in a body bind that only those who had seen oil wrestling in meereen would have witnessed and is declared round winner.  the two emerge with bloodied knuckles as they exit the arena, few cheering the name of the foreign woman as she leaves.

     next to take the slightly bloodied ground are two iron island lords, the secondborn son of pyke lord viktor greyjoy and the iron islands representative and firstborn son of harlaw isle, lord rychärd harlaw.   both men circle each other like birds of prey, waiting for one to lay the first blow. it’s the harlaw lord, a haymaker to the face that has the greyjoy man spitting blood as he lunges to return the attack.  while the harlaw lord has the size advantage, viktor proves to be another quick, strong and efficient fighter.  one can’t help but notice the similarities in their fighting styles and wonder if it is something to do with growing up upon the decks of ships.  the match drags on for near ten grueling minutes, both choosing opportunity rather than exhaustive brute force.   but inertia fights against the harlaw lord as a wild punch aimed for viktors head misses its target and sends him off balance.  quick as a snake, viktor is on him with a muscular arm around rychärd’s neck in a choke hold and they tumble to the ground, writhing. however, rychärd, knowing he is outmatched and unable to free himself he signals his admission of defeat at the hands of the greyjoy lord.

     the next fight has people careening their necks to get a better view, a few youths climbing the branches of trees to get the optimal sight of, what the betting folk have dubbed, the melee rematch.  lord morrec clegane had lost to kymaera in the final game of the previous day, and before that he had effectively eliminated the sellsword azriel from the final two.  they had both shown their fighting skills, varied as they may be, in the melee match - but without weapons... it becomes theoretically anyones game.  the two fight fiercely, viciously, like the savage survivalist they both are at heart, bloodied knuckles and grunts of exertion that can be heard in the stands give way to the winner by a knock-out is lord morrec clegane, who lands a brilliant opportune punch to the side of azriels face, connecting fully. the tyrell guard is unconscious as he hits the dirt, but comes to after only a few seconds, the clegane lord raising his bound and bloodied knuckles in triumph as the last pairing of the first round readies themselves.

     the second fight featuring a woman causes less outcry, most likely the judgmental attendees having been silenced by the efficient and victorious savagery of kymaera in the first fight. the storm queen kyra baratheon enters in her captains leathers, blonde hair pulled back as she faces down the first ranger of the nights watch ser endymion manderly.  as with the previous fights, it is one of near equal skill on each side in each pairing, and these two are no exception. the storm queen fights like an iron islander, a blunt violence and almost crude determination in her face as she cross-blocks a blow from ser endymion and retaliates with a kick towards the stomach.  the crow reels back, winded, but undeterred as the captain-turned-queen presses her advantage with a series of fast and alternating jabs that seem to confuddle the man of the watch.  the storm queen’s attacks are so quick and precise that she manages to force back ser endymion against the wooden wall of the set up arena. this is, by far, the most impressive match of the round as the two fighters seem to be at a stalemate, neither one willing to give.      the match is only decided when the storm queen violently head-butts the first ranger, causing his eyebrow to split and temporarily blind him with blood - and then she is behind him, her boot pressed back against the wooden wall and the crows arm is twisted behind his back.   with a final grunt (near scream) of exertion, the storm queen pushed off from the wall with her boot; her body pressed against the manderly man’s back and twisted arm, sending both of them crashing to the ground and effectively pinning down the nightswatchman in a hard won victory that has the crowds absolutely screaming on their feet.

     𝔖𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡,

      with one of the consistent winners paired off against a greyjoy lord who had yet to place but had just floored his opponent with impressive skill, many inch to the edges of their seats in anticipation.   lord morrec clegane re-entered the arena, new bindings on his reddened knuckles, still carrying some smears of blood and dirty sweat on his skin from his battle against the tyrell guard, and lord viktor greyjoy entered in much the same shape - though less blood had been spilled in his match against the harlaw lord. some comment that the clegane lord looks more worn out than before, some blame the melee and his brutal fighter earlier, but the fight starts with tenacity.  the clegane lord all but launched himself at the greyjoy man, thick arms truncating around his middle as they tumble to the dirt ground in a tense and brutal grappling match.  when viktor frees himself and puts several feet distance between himself and the larger blacksmith; he circles the blond - slowly creeping closer with each loop. the clegane blocks the first hit, ducks under the second and moves to swerve the third - but viktor has plotted his movements, a true tactical man who needs not rely on brute strength.  some claim it’s luck, some blame it on clegane’s exhaustion, but a punch drives his chin up and he stumbles back - the crowd cries out.  the second strike clegane anticipates to his head again, but lord greyjoy feints to a strike to the stomach followed by a front-footed kick to his sternum that sends him flying back into the wooden wall - dazed.   the last blow lands, half blocked, on morrec’s left side, a kick that topples him to the ground and gives lord viktor greyjoy a surprising but well-won win.

   but it isn’t those two the crowd strain and scramble to watch; it’s the two women that have been paired together. a fight that the crowd had anticipated as women were considered the lesser sex, they now clamored for to watch such savage fighters square off.   those who had witnessed the melee of the previous day had already seen firsthand kymaera’s stamina and skill, and whilst she and the storm queen kyra baratheon had not crossed blows in the melee despite both competing, the fight against ser endymion manderly had swayed many to her support.  the two are already battle-weary, that is true, but there’s a fire coming from both of the women as the match begins, though neither move immediately - though their hands were raised in fists.  some note that the storm queen has lessened her garments, banding and leathers similar to the bindings beneath the kymaera’s body paint.  and then the first strike is laid by the melee champion, a quick-striking fist to the face and blood beads from the storm queens split lip but the retaliation by the blonde is just as quick with a three-punch combo to the ribs, stomach and finally face.  kymaera retreats ready on her haunches like a savage feline as the storm queen lowers her stance in a mimic they stare each other down once more.   the crowd is oddly quiet this round, enraptured by the sight before them; with each blow being met with an equally effective block, the two woman appear to move almost as if engaged in a dance for a period of time; each woman’s vulnerabilities attempting to be exploited by the other and a block maddeningly appearing each time in its response.   in a nearly identical move seen before, queen kyra begins to press kymaera back towards the wall as she had with ser endymion.  there’s a span of approximately 1000ft between the women and the edge of the arena and all of a sudden the melee champion seems to snap, stopping her effecting counter attack and instead firing rapid blows over all parts of the blonde woman’s body, seeming unbothered that most were blocked.  a roundhouse kick delivered from kymaera meets it’s target though and the queen stumbles, bleeding from the mouth and off balance, wide open. in an unexpected move, the meereenese fighter does not strike but instead turns and flees towards the wall with the storm queen, enraged as she spits blood, close on her heels - intending to press a suspected weakness.  the crowd screams then as, in a graceful and terrifying show of skill and agility the kymaera sprints the length of the seven feet wooden wall, her body arcing back to flip over the top of the stunned westerosi captain.  kyra’s turn is too slow, her reaction time not enough, and kymaera’s limbs suddenly seemed to wrap around the storm queens body.  taken to ground like a strangling vine around a tree trunk, the crowd roars, sure that the melee champion was destined to move on to win the hand to hand. the scuffle causes clouds of dust around the two women, as they appeear to fight like two snakes entwined in a death match. the black haired woman seems assured to win again, but a burst of strength seems to come from within the storm queen, giving a shout of exertion as she slips from the muscular grasp of the kymaera’s legs.  she grabbed both kymaera’s bronzed shoulders, her short but strong nails digging in hard enough to break skin and spill blood as the two tumble, ending with kyra astride the meereenese woman. kyra grabs her shoulders and slams her into the ground, stunning the kymaera with the rebound of her head against the hard-packed ground.  and relentlessly, the storm queens fist plowed into her competitors face, sending a spray of blood across the dirt.  the crowd gasps and hollers at the show of savagery, but it continues as many exclaim they are more fierce than the men, a palm to the underside of the storm queen’s chin is enough to stun her momentarily, her teeth piercing her lip and the flow of blood from the pale womans lips increasing to stain her chin, neck and shirt.  kymaera’s agility, stamina and flexility plays in her favour again, worming her legs between the two and propelling the storm queen off her body in an effort to seperate the two and gain an upper hand again, but as the kymaera rises back to her feet she is suddenly floored by a roundhouse kick that knocks the melee champion off her feet and to the dirt, motionless.   the crowd goes silent... all that can be heard is the storm queen’s panting as she stands bloodied, dirty and victorious, and then a deafening, thunderous roar.

    𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 ℜ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡

     a break is taken after that last match, the crowd whipped into a frenzy and the storm queen in need of maester’s attention and bandages to stem the blood-flow from the wounds she’d had at the kymaera’s hands.  lord viktor greyjoy, the other finalist has already been tended to and his knuckles re-bound and hair tied back off his face, and a quarter of an hour later the storm queen kyra baratheon joins him.   undoubtedly, both competitors growing increasingly tired from their efforts and having both recently both beaten favoured fighters in savage brawls, the crowd releases noises of shock as both waste no time in attempt to lay low and sneaky blows to draw an end to their fight, quickly, but their similarities prove a downfall.  both are captains upon the seas, both used to fighting in the slick and against those who did not obey rules, they both sought to use the same weaknesses, both knew how to counteract them in their own ways.   and then, the crowd moans in dismay as the storm queen falters after a successfully blocked, but powerfully delivered, kick aimed for the side of her head.   lord greyjoy hesitates at the potential final blow, and that is enough - kyra launches herself at him in the moment of hesitation without any defence, a wild move that draws a gasp as the two slam against the ground in a roll that sends the grappling fighters half way across the arena, each struggling for dominance.

     when the dust settles, the greyjoy lord has regained the upper hand and his arm is pressed against the storm queen’s throat - she is pinned and her face is red from exertion and lack of oxygen.  screams and shouts come from the crowd as some tell the woman to tap out in defeat, her legs kick from beneath him, but to no avail, some cheer on the greyjoy lord and yell for ‘to the bitter end! to the death!’ but she has no intention of that being a problem.   she sinks her teeth into the wound of her own lip, flooding her mouth with the acrid iron taste of blood which she spits directly into the greyjoy lords face, effectively blinding him for a few seconds.  and again, that few seconds is just enough as she gathers enough strength to jolt her body upwards and again head-butt her competitor, sending him reeling back in pain & shock, releasing her throat.  in a manner of seconds she is atop him wasting no time, her legs wrapped around his neck & head, his face forcibly pressed into her muscled thigh - akin to a headlock but with a smothering effect.  she cried out as he bit at her leg in a last ditch attempt to free himself, but she clenches her legs tighter, her upper body strength spent... and after a few more seconds of kicking and struggling, the greyjoy lord smacks his hand against the ground - signalling a surrender and the storm queen releases him, flopping back onto the ground panting and blood-smeared before slowly getting to her feet in triumph.  the crowd around the two screams and shouts as the storm queens name is yelled out as; CHAMPION, she raises both fists - a bloodied warrior queen worthy of song,     and while many expect lord viktor to be bitter in defeat but he simply booms out a laugh.

CHAMPION: 500 Gold Dragons to winner QUEEN KYRA BARATHEON.

#plot point: tournament #;; i had dtoo much fun

[a-memory-of]

Kazha'a Anhsari kept pace with Laurens, walking at his side and not at his back, or too far ahead. He seemed outwardly content, at the least, as much as he could be. The way his ears flicked and followed sound, however, showed his guard was not relaxed. Every now and again, he'd scan the treeline. He did not want to expect his clan. Most would not dare come close to a settlement, save the two that had followed him to Laurens' steps and took his sight.

He'd catch a glance now and again, and shoved his hands in pockets, turning away just as fast. He knew what Laurens was thinking. Or at least he had a guess. "You don't have to worry about me all the time." It came as something of a surprise when Kazha'a spoke. Laurens Lalier openly looked to him, letting the words sink in and process before he nodded slowly. "I know. But just because I don't have to be doesn't mean I'm not concerned about your well-being. I don't want them showing up here, either."

Laurens wasn't paranoid about it. He could, most of the time, forget that there was a whole band of Keepers who would gladly eliminate the one of their own who was staying there with him. But leaving those walls and their immediate surroundings reminded him of that vulnerability. "I can't leave all the worry solely to you." Kazha'a sighed again, slowly drawing his hands out of his pockets. No matter how long had passed, it seemed he could not shake the odd feeling it have him to know someone else was there. Someone else was helping to keep an eye out, and someone else cared about his well-being. He almost opened his mouth to say that  he wasn't worried. But it would have been a lie.

Thankfully, the road was quiet. And there was no sign of a rogue clan or otherwise as they neared the city proper. Some, not all, of the tension faded from Kazha'a's shoulders. His clan would not come here. For the time being, he did not have to worry about them. A crowded city however, was another story. As they walked up to the city gates, Laurens touched his hand between Kazha'a's shoulder blades. It was no secret that they were entering the territory of people who had little love for either of their kinds, but Laurens at least had some experience with the city. "Try to act natural," he offered by way of advice. "Don't stare and try not to look any of the guards in the eye; some will take that as a challenge."

The Wailers at the gate gave them a quick, mostly disinterested once-over as they passed through into Gridania. There were far more people around than Laurens was completely comfortable with, but he didn't have any choice in the matter. He just held the hope that once they were well away from the aetheryte plaza the amount of people would recede. Gridania wasn't Ul'dah, after all. It didn't have the same draw for adventurers seeking that quick Syndicate or Monetarist coin. With the hand at his back, Kazha'a briefly glanced up to the other but otherwise let it be. Kazha'a's ears lowered, and his face had trained back into that well-practiced scowl that had become strangely absent in his time at the cabin. The city proper was nothing like the villages nestled elsewhere in the Shroud. He had dealt with them before. But Gridania was a place he rarely desired to go.

Kazha'a did as he was told though, likely only not to cause trouble for Laurens. He didn't fear city guards and Wailers much on his own. He stuck close to the other's side, having to hold back a growl or two when people drew to close. The Miqo'te kept edging his way between Laurens and others, in an oddly protective way. He didn't say anything, or call attention when he did, he simply was there each time. The hand at Kazha'a's back didn't stay there long. Laurens withdrew it as they made their way through the main area of town, letting Kazha'a go at his own pace without any of Laurens's gentle prodding. The protective aspect of the Keeper's behavior mostly escaped his notice, at least until a bespectacled young Hyur woman came up to them and was met by Kazha'a.

"Laurens, what are-- oh, goodness, who are you?" she asked, giving Kazha'a a quick glance-over that seemed to size him up all at once.

"Mathilda." Laurens's eyes widened and he touched Kazha'a's shoulder lightly as a gesture to stand down. "Er... Mathilda, this is my friend Kazha'a. Kazha'a, this is Mathilda - my editor. Who I'm sure is off on some important business already, so we shouldn't keep her?"

Mathilda's appraising look intensified, the keen gray eyes behind her glasses narrowing slightly. "A pleasure to meet you, Kazha'a. I didn't realize Laurens had friends in the city." Kazha'a was also quick to size up the woman himself, eyes trailing up and down. She certainly didn't seem a threat, but that didn't mean she couldn't be. He blew a breath out his nose, huffing slightly as Laurens touched his shoulder. He crossed his arms across his chest, stepping to the side only enough that he wasn't fully in front of him anymore. His eyes never left her.

As they were introduced, Kazha'a's ears lowered slightly. Something about the way she kept looking at him unnerved him. He grunted, looking away with a curl of his lip, "I'm not from the city." "No?" Mathilda asked with a lift of her eyebrows. "Well, then good for you getting him to come here. It's usually quite the struggle just to get him out of the house!"

Laurens coughed into his closed fist, his cheeks darkening with a blush. "Ah, well. Sometimes there are reasons to go into the city. Other times there aren't."

"Are they the reason why you requested two extensions the other moon?" Her smile was, if not knowing, then definitely presuming to know. "But you're correct, I do need to be getting to a meeting. Have fun, you two. I look forward to hearing more about it in the future." He didn't really understand or care to understand most of what was being said. It was Laurens' own business how he spent his time, the woman should stay out of it. And then there was talk of extensions. Kazha'a blew out another breath as she left, arms still crossed. He had already decided he didn't like her much.

Kazha'a's ears raised up a bit, and he looked back to Laurens expectantly. He felt like he should say something, but he didn't know what. So instead, he slowly uncrossed his arms, and opted for a change of subject instead, "We're... looking for a place that sells books, right?"

With @ffxivaltstars

Laurens rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish and also a little embarrassed. "Oh, ah... yes. Yes, of course." He reached for Kazha'a's hand so they didn't get separated, leading the way toward the little bookshop nestled amongst the other shops and stalls. "I am sorry about Mathilda. She can be a little... overwhelming, at times. But she really is the best editor I've ever had."

The bookstore was not a very large place, but it had many shelves all around and all lined with various books of different sizes and colors. It smelled like a proper bookstore, too: dust, old books, and furniture polish. Laurens seemed to find ease here, his tense shoulders relaxing as he let his hand drop. "I'm certain we can find something here," he said with a nod. He politely - and perhaps with a bit of returning embarrassment - ignored the little stand near the front of the shop that contained several copies of the same books that sat in a box in his living room. "We'll probably want to try the first area on your right. Picture books and ones for new readers." Kazha'a looked down at their hands, then back up to Laurens' face and down again. It was his turn to color slightly. He had yet to get used to that feeling, and while he wasn't opposed, it was still such a new sensation. He shook his head as they walked, still probably a bit too hyper-aware and on edge for a simple shopping trip. Though the protective tension seemed to lift a bit while holding hands.

"Is it... true what she said? About missing things because of me?" he asked quietly, almost without thinking. He seemed troubled by it. But they had already reached the book store, and the familiar books in the window quieted him.

It took everything he had not to glare at the shopkeeper as he passed. He followed along to the directed area, glancing at the wall of books. These were different, most had pictures or drawings on the covers, unlike other books he'd seen. He scanned them, perhaps waiting for Laurens to pick something for him, until his eyes fell on a small book with the picture of a lion on the cover. He took it from the shelf with a curious head-tilt. And while he himself couldn't read it, the book promised a story of a gladiatorial lion that didn't wish to fight. "I've delayed deadlines for less," Laurens said, almost to himself. "A person's life is worth far more than fiction."

He let Kazha'a explore and skim over the books on his own, waiting until something caught his attention before reaching for a couple of books that covered the basics of letters and how to begin putting them together. For Kazha'a to have even a little interest in a book of his own choosing would certainly help; it was the beginning of a goal to work toward.

"Did you find something you might like?" Laurens asked after a moment of letting Kazha'a flip through the book and form his own opinion. "I've heard good things about Ferid the Lion, though I've not actually read it myself." Blinking down at the book he'd chosen once learning its name, Kazha'a tilted his head. He looked back to the rows of other books upon the shelves. There were some with pictures of children on it, playing. He had no connection to things like this. For some reason, at least, this one he found something perhaps.

With a quiet nod, he handed it to Laurens then began to dig in one of is hip bags for his gil. Laurens nodded his acknowledgment, picking up a few of the very early reader letter-recognition type books before he walked over to the cash register where the proprietor waited.

"Will that be all today?" the Wildwood man asked, surprisingly less patronizing than most might expect. Laurens was, after all, a fairly regular customer who spent a decent amount of coin - anyone coming along with him would be given a similar respect.

"Yes, Raulf, I think this should do it," Laurens replied, indicating the book that Kazha'a held as well. "And if you don't mind, will you add my friend here to my account? Anything he wants if I'm not here, I'll settle with you at the end of the month." Laurens took out his own gil pouch, counting out a handful of coins while the total was still being calculated. Kazha'a followed to the front desk, and did his best to train himself back, avoiding glaring at the shop-keep. He seemed surprisingly more accepting of his presence than he was used to. But as Laurens spoke the man's name, Kazha'a figured they, at least, were familiar with each other. He ought to be, with his books in the window like that.

When the attention shifted to him, Kazha'a's ears lowered back, but he relinquished his book onto the counter. He, too, had his gil out waiting for what he owed. He did far better with numbers, at least when it came to coin, than he did with written words. It was something he had to learn fast selling his blades as he did.

He made a slight face at being added to Laurens' account, raising an unsure brow. He opened his mouth to protest, but a quick glance back to the Wildwood had him snapping his lips shut again. The shopkeeper's eyebrows lifted, but he nodded. "All right. But you're paying for these, right?"

"Yes, of course." Laurens looked to the total and began to extend his hand, but stopped after a glance at Kazha'a. "My apologies, I made an assumption. My friend here will be paying for his own purchase."

The proprietor of the store adjusted the totals, collecting from Laurens what he owed for the rest of the books before turning his attention to the quiet Keeper. "Just the one for you? Then that'll be 5 gil, please." Ever the independent, Kazha'a gave Laurens a grateful look for allowing him this. Perhaps it was foolish, and perhaps one day he'd be more inclined to allow the other to buy him things, but for now, after all the other had already done for him it did not feel right. Kazha'a had few things that were his, and he took pride in what was.

Counting out the gil, he placed the amount on the counter and slide the book into his other hand. He looked down at it again, at the simple cover with the picture of a lion. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes, a muted excitement perhaps. A boyish wonder that was a little off for someone his age. But Kazha'a was quick to train it back, looking between the two Elezen as if he was wary of being seen.

#ff14 #ffxiv #rp #rp logs #roleplay #Kazha'a Anhsari #Laurens Lalier #Memories of the Lonely Blade

[turtlestanfirst]

When they first met, it was apparently night. Artemis has a hard time with, well, time. She can't see the sun or moon, the changing of the sky as the day wears on into night. Her favorite way to guess the time is to just listen. As night comes on the house becomes much quieter than during the day. And the house really can get busy. He was called Baron Draxum, after all. He's got status, and status means people come in and out of your house all day, talking about the affairs of Mystic City. Artemis is old enough to handle some of these things when her father isn't around. And he'd been gone for most of that day, so she'd been fairly busy.

Finally the telltale sound of evening had settled in and she'd settled in the kitchen, sipping on multiple mugs of tea until her nose picked up on the scent of Draxum's cologne. His footsteps reached her ears moments after- two pairs of footsteps. The other person had a smell too, one considerably less appealing than her father's. Her first guess was an enemy, someone he would likely take down into the dungeon.

But they weren't headed to the dungeon. Artemis turned her head towards the kitchen entrance as the pair approached, an easy smile on her face despite her curiosity about the person next to him. "I was starting to worry I'd have to sleep without saying goodnight to you." The smile grew as Draxum approached and planted a kiss on her head.

"Busy day, my little munchkin," he explained. Artemis nodded.

"Who's with you?" The girl couldn't see it, but she heard something like pride in the yokai's voice as he replied.

"This is Donatello, he'll be staying with us from now on." Her face moved towards where she'd last heard his footsteps and waved.

"Welcome, Donatello," she hummed, and grinned once again when she heard his quiet reply. The familiar clop of Draxum's hooves moved away from her now.

"He has had a long day as well," her father explained. "I am going to show him to his room. Will you put the kettle on for me, dear?" Artemis nodded quickly and slid out of her seat to do as she was asked.

"Shall I send a cup up for you, Donatello?" she asked over her shoulder.

"I- yes, please," he replied after a pause. Artemis nodded once more and picked the kettle up, listening as their footsteps retreated down the hall and moved up the stairs on her left side. By the time Draxum returned, she was perched on the counter, the water slowly working its way to a boil on the stove.

"How'd you get one of them to come with you?" she asked, almost as soon as he entered the room. Clip clop, clip clop, she heard him settle on the chair she'd occupied earlier. He didn't answer right away, and the weight of his temporary silence told her there was a lot on his mind.

"He was alone," Draxum offered. Artemis sat forward, fingertips clinging to the counter beneath her. "He says he feels like his... his family doesn't value him as highly as he would like."

"And you've offered to show him his worth?"

"Yes. He is incredibly talented, he deserves to know this. If he needs someone to tell him that I have no problem doing so." Her brow furrowed slightly. It sounded like the turtle hadn't been happy with his family. Draxum had told her about the turtles and Lou before. Why would the man take them only to mistreat one enough to convince him to leave?

Donnie had a question for her too, one that popped into his head immediately after laying eyes on her. It burned and burned and burned until the door to the room he'd been given opened up and a head of brown curls appeared. Her smile was oddly comforting, and the turtle relaxed on the bed.

"I got mint tea, hope that's alright," she hummed as she set the mug down on the nightstand. Donnie shook his head.

"Perfectly fine." The mug was warm, soothing to his whole body. "Thank you."

"No problem! I'm the resident tea maker around here, so if you ever need some just holler." She offered a smile and almost stepped away, but Donnie's question tumbled out of his mouth and stopped her.

"You're his daughter?"

And she understood exactly why he would ask. Draxum didn't like humans. He was actively looking for a way to get rid of them all. And yet his child was human? It was confusing, she could acknowledge that. Turning towards the bed, Artemis gave a nod.

"I am. He adopted me when I was very young," she explained. There was silence for a few moments.

"You know he's... trying to kill off all humans, right?" Her smile was still genuine, but it carried a hint of something different as she replied.

"Never met a human I liked anyway. Goodnight, Donatello."

___________________________________

To Donnie, Artemis was an enigma. She was impossible to figure out. She used his full name for a long time and acted with all the polite civility in the world. Her guard was present at all times and he didn't know how to get over it.

To Artemis, Donnie was an open book. She read and reread him, studying the turtle as well as possible. Upon learning he was a softshell, she came to the decision that he could be more than an ally. Whether they liked it or not, both had an undeniable... hindrance in their lives. She had learned to accept it. He had not. She would help him, but to do so she would likely have to make herself vulnerable as well. Once the choice was made, she informed him calmly that because they technically shared a father they were now siblings.

Donnie had scoffed. "We're not even in the same phylum." She had grinned.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. I'm choosing you to be my baby brother." Which was ridiculous because he was seventeen and she was sixteen. But she had repeated herself and Donnie hadn't felt like fighting.

That had been the night before, and the turtle had stayed up all night thinking about it. Growing up with siblings meant that their absence was hard on him. Accepting the girl as his new sister wouldn't be replacing them, right? Because even if he had left, they were brothers. Right? Of course, he was sure none of them were pleased with him. He couldn't blame them for that. He shook his head. It didn't matter; just like with Artemis, they weren't biologically related- not real siblings. He could choose anyone in the world to fill that spot, he didn't have to stay loyal to the three boys.

Right?

It was morning now and Donnie realized sleep wasn't coming for him, so he forced himself out of bed and tugged his mask on before going for his battle shell. Then again, he'd worn it nearly all day the day before and his shoulders were still a little sore from the heavy object, so he opted instead for clothes. He vaguely noted that one of his hoodies had been removed from its hanger but pushed that thought away to deal with later. The purple hoodie was chosen and moments later he meandered down the steps.

"Mornin' Donabon!" She was already in the kitchen, cooking away. "Coffee's already in the machine."

"You are a goddess." The turtle made a beeline for the referenced machine while Artemis chuckled.

"I know, consider it a thank you present."

A 'thanks for letting me steal your hoodie’ present, he realized. The dark blue material absolutely enfulged her, but she looked rather pleased about having it on and he didn't see a point in arguing.

"I was awake all night!"

"You were occupied all night, and I'm good at being sneaky." She sounded so smug. Almost like Leo. For a moment he wondered if she'd like him, what kind of chaos the two could cause if they joined forces. He didn't like that though so much and instead reached around and stole a piece of sausage from the pan she was cooking with, hissing at the burn of the hot food and chuckling at her complaints.

He spent most of the day in the makeshift lab he'd claimed as his own. He missed his old one, it had been decked out just the way he wanted, but he could work with this. He could make it his own. Artemis wandered in and out, but at some point came in with a book and a giant blanket and settled in the corner, not too far off from the softshell.

She was good company. Never asked too many questions, showed just enough interest in his work to get a thorough description of what exactly it was. Praised his talent, never pushed questionable buttons or tried drinking anything in his beakers. She sat and read, mostly quietly. He loved that.

After a few weeks of that comfortable silence, Donnie began rambling. Emotions were difficult for him to relate, he hadn't been able to talk about them with his brothers and he couldn't do so with Artemis. But he'd ramble about his projects and his general thoughts on things and even though her eyes didn't work they stayed facing his direction the whole time he talked. Her little hums and occasional interjections told him she really was listening, and that made him feel even better. Draxum was still someone he remained cautious about, but Artemis? He was forever bound to this girl.

A sister was different from brothers in many ways. Brothers got into wrestling matches and taught you how to fight hard. A sister came at you with a broom and taught you improvised weaponry and fighting smart. His brothers had always been obnoxious with affection; she was more subtle. Perhaps the biggest difference though was the way Artemis treated his shell.

For once, Donnie could say he understood why they'd been so worried. Maybe it was because he now had a disabled sister. Any time he saw her stumble, or bump her hip against the counter on the way out of the kitchen, or trip up the stairs, his heart fluttered anxiously. Watching her train made him worry because those weapons were sharp and she couldn't see and if she miscalculated even the tiniest bit...

"Let's make a deal," she panted one day. They'd been sparring and she'd tripped over his foot in close combat. He'd felt bad and ended up checking her for injury twice. Now Donnie's head tilted in her direction, brow furrowed curiously.

"A deal?"

"That's right. We're a team of hindered warriors, we've gotta look out for each other. But we aren't disabled so we won't check too much, get it? We're both capable of a lot, just... we need help sometimes. Everyone needs a little help sometimes."

Which was a weird thought. The logical part of his brain wanted to argue that blindness and a weak shell both definitely counted as disabilities, hers especially. And she might have known he wanted to argue because she spoke again. "Disability is a state of mind, Don. That's all." So he kept the argument to himself. But his mind didn’t change.

And she couldn’t blame him. Artemis had heard him ramble before about how his brothers had been so careful with him, like a fragile doll. Their intentions were clearly good to her, but they had allowed Donnie to grow up believing he was disabled. As his new sister, she made it her job to prove it wasn’t true. Choosing how to do so was more difficult than she’d anticipated, and the idea that stuck most in her mind did come with a little bit of worry, but a week after that conversation when the two met up for training, she decided to just go for it.

Training with actual blades had been frowned upon when she was younger, and Draxum’s mind hadn’t been changed still. So she trained with several fake kunai and throwing stars hidden on her person and worn down kakute on her fingers. Her trusty tachi was the only metal she had on her. To keep it fair, Donnie refrained from using the technological advancements he’d made to his bo. Artemis was glad, because it allowed her to gauge how good he was at fighting. And he was good. He was impressive. The turtle could defend himself- and this was what comforted her when she began to really fight, not just spar. 

“Artie, what the hell?” the turtle grunted after receiving a fairly harsh blow to his plastron. The kunoichi set her jaw and focused. Donnie narrowly missed taking a foot to the face, but froze momentarily when the tachi hit his battle shell. His frown deepened. “Artemis...”

Ignoring his confusion (and perhaps annoyance, she was fairly sure that was the other emotion she was sensing), she continued. She’d learned to fight by feeling the situation; the vibrations of her enemy’s feet on the ground, the sound of their voice and the whistling a weapon makes as it slices through the air. She let herself fall into her rhythm, dodging Donnie’s attacks and going for his weakness again and again.

It was working, she knew, because his normally precise moves were becoming sloppy. He was angry, she heard it in his growl. Artemis began pushing the envelope.

“Come on, Donatello,” she chided. “I know you can do better than that.” The bo was coming on her left. The hit was deflected and she landed a kick on his shell. 

“Stop it.”

“You can take it, Don.”

She tumbled out of the way of a hit and jabs her tachi hard against his shell.

“Artemis, stop.”

“Make me.”

She maybe should have anticipated his lunge. A squeak escaped her as the full force of the turtle’s body collided into hers and the two began tussling on the ground, weapons forgotten completely. It scared Donnie, how easily she’d actually managed to unlatch the battle shell. His body tensed and he waited- for what, he wasn’t sure.

Nothing happened.

Donnie slowly looked up at his sister. Her face was more serious than he’d ever seen. For a moment, neither spoke. The turtle struggled to catch his breath and calm his nerves. Then he sat up slowly and tucked his legs beneath his body.

“You better have a really good explanation as to why that just happened.” The girl’s lips turned into a deep frown.

“You’re better than that, Donnie.”

“Than what?”

“That!” Her arm gestured around to nothing in particular. “You’re a ninja, a damn good one. And when we spar I know you can take me without a problem. I know if I fought you with everything I got you’ve got the talent to compete. And I think you know that too. So why does that change when I go for your shell?” Donnie didn’t answer her question, and Artemis let out a soft sigh. “I have never been able to see. My whole world’s been this darkness. I don’t what stars are like or what color my own hair is- and don’t try and tell me, I don’t know what colors look like anyway.” The turtle, who’d been about to do exactly that, shut his mouth.

“I’ve got a problem, okay? And I had to accept it. I’m blind and that’s fine. I don’t like it, but I’m not letting it stop me from doing anything. I can use a damn sword, I can steal your clothes from under your nose, I can cook. I can live, Don. Even if there’s something different about me. And so can you. So what your shell’s soft? You’ve got the brain to create those incredible shell cover thingies! And they do more than protect you, they help you do all sorts of things! That’s fucking amazing!”

“Yeah, and you managed to get it off of me without me knowing,” Donnie grumbled. His sister’s face softened.

“You can make a fix for that, genius,” she huffed. Her hand reached out and moved against his plastron to find his chin. Then she tilted his face to look towards her own (she didn’t get the calculation quite right, but Donnie knew what she was going for and stared into her face anyway). “And you can get over the shell thing too, okay? If I did it, so can you.”

“It took you how long?” Artemis furrowed her brow.

“...A while. But you’re a faster learner than me. And you’ve got the added benefit of having me around to help! I can bring you into the dojo and whack you around a few times if you need it.” She could hear the smile in his voice now.

“Give me warning next time, okay?” he huffed. “I thought you had finally snapped for a minute there.” He chuckled as she whacked his arm lightly.

“What do you mean, finally?”

“You’re a crazy girl, Art.” Her grin was bright.

“Ah, but you love it!” His was much softer as he shook his head.

“That, I do.”

#uuhhhhh 98% of this was written at three in the morning so it's hella messy but!! #i wanted to do a thing about donnie and his new sister? #they love each other but she's a hoodie thief and he's gonna have to find a way to get her back #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #tmnt au

[stunudo]

Infiltrated: Part 2

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader/ George Foyet x Female Reader

Setting: Season 4

A/N: I got an unsub fmk-type ask. So this came from that. This is going to be darker than any other series I have done. Hope you guys like it! The reader character has a last name because she is protecting her identity. image link This one is story heavy and longer than chapter 1. Xoxo Stu

Warnings: Blood, violence, moral repugnancy, and general unsub behavior. Also violent smut.

Series  Part 1

Your name: submit What is this?

Presenting the information was overly formal, instead you improvised and had copies of your thesis sent to the members of the BAU. You weren’t an egomaniac, but this way they knew what you did and wouldn’t constantly question your presence there. Hotchner replied to your email with a simple, “I’ve read it, thanks.”

You arrived to their conference room early, early enough to feel like you were intruding on a house whose occupants were on vacation, not that you had ever done such a thing. You set up your files and Bureau laptop, brought from your desk on the seventh floor. You took it upon yourself to open two maps, one of Boston proper and another of the continental United States. Taking each in turn and tacking to the provided board pushed to the side of the room.

The Boston map was easier, each street and every avenue integral as the tracks of scars over your skin. You pushed a few pins in the safe houses George had given Roy Colson and eventually Agents Hotchner and Rossi. You also stuck pins in each of the original crime scenes as well as George’s attacks since his resurgence. The photos from the bus still clung to the dark recesses of your mind; George was shoving Hotch’s refusal back in his face. His morals had cost people’s lives, a reminder that no one simply refuses an offer from the Reaper.

“We’ll get another board in here for any new cases,” Hotch’s voice behind you was steady, while unexpected.

“Oh, right. I should have probably asked before I started setting up.” You paused between the table with your things and the evidence already on display. “Are you sure?”

“It’s fine, Turner,” Hotch nodded, mouth flat and brow heavy.

Soon the rest of the BAU filed into the seats separating you and the surly Unit Chief. After pleasantries that were not quite sincere, you remained calm as the round table began.

“We need to go back and interview everyone that was connected to Foyet while he moved between his various safe houses for the past ten years.” Hotch started off.

“Boston PD is still combing through evidence and first hand accounts. But like Garcia said he was very much off the grid, Hotch.” Derek continued.

“No one lives without some human connection in a city that size,” Prentiss pointed out.

“No, he spent time teaching his target demographic under various aliases and promptly disappeared when he slipped up.” Your voice layered with your disgust.

“Well, Colson found him, maybe he slipped up more than we thought,” Dr. Reid posed.

“Not-” “Well-” Hotch and you said in unison.

“Colson was feeding his narcissistic side. He was giving him his day in the sun.” Rossi was on the same wave length.

“Maybe what we need to be looking for, is a fan,” Prentiss’s eyebrows peaked.

“Every serial killer has them,” Rossi agreed.

“Groupies? Really?” You played up the disbelief. Leave it to Rossi to lead the team down the one line of investigation you didn’t want them taking too seriously.

You were only granted an hour of time on the clock to spend with the BAU. You milked the time as along as you could, but your SSA sent the rookie down to fetch you before long. The over-muscled guy knocked timidly at the door frame, interrupting Hotch as he assigned the spectrum of follow up details to you and his team. You rolled your eyes at the intrusion, grabbing your computer and files before it got more awkward.

Hemmings, that was the sucker’s name, insisted on making continuous comments on the BAU and your place at the table over the short elevator ride. You gave minimal responses and left him alone in the metal box as soon as the doors parted. It was going to be an impossibly long day. Which turned into a week. You kept Hotch and by extension the BAU updated on any new intelligence you received from the Boston PD.

The electronic communication caused you more worry than necessary, but your boss was on your ass about spending time on other cases. You kept your head down and got through your unit’s surveillance like a good little agent. By Thursday night you had given up playing by the sidelines, it was time to figure out just what you needed to get cozy with the profilers.

In the coming week and a half, you had a busy nightlife. Reid was an easy tail, he took public transportation and kept to himself for the most part. He had the most eclectic interests of anyone on the team. Derek was a gym rat or was spitting game. His wounded pride left him overly eager in the investigation and you wouldn’t let his leisure activities let you forget that. Prentiss was even more solitary than Reid, but she was also harder to follow in a crowd.

JJ spent her time at home, though she wasn’t considered a profiler, you knew better than to underestimate another woman. Especially a new mother. Rossi lived in a gated community and as easy as you could hop the fence or flash your badge, you decided to leave him alone. No sense getting in deeper than you needed to. That left the tech girl and Hotch. Your final targets, the most dangerous of them all; one could expose you while one could send you away without a second chance.

Going over your boards on each team member, you sipped from a bottle of whiskey. The burn short and familiar down your throat. Garcia felt like a Venus fly trap, she was dangerous because she was welcoming and recklessly curious. She drove an obnoxious, oversized car you could follow blindfolded and she rarely left headquarters for anything besides sleep, shopping or some selfless act of volunteerism. You had to play it careful on the spending and electronic traces.

You hadn’t been to Hotch’s place yet, because he was so rarely home. It seemed like the office was installed around him. If it wasn’t for his pristine hygiene regimen he would be a mess. You stared at the wall of pictures and notes swaying subconsciously on the spot.

He grabbed you from behind and pulled your waist and nape of your neck in equal force.

“How you doing there, Agent Turner?” George Foyet’s deep voice was coarse against your ear. His strong body held you fiercely, but once he spoke you melted into him, letting your head loll to the side. Like a dog exposing its belly to an alpha, you granted him your vulnerability and his jaw nuzzled into the flesh along your neck, to accept it.

“I didn’t think you knew where I lived,” You murmured as his hand dragged over your arm, pulling the bottle out of your hand. He set it on the coffee table with a disapproving clunk. He sat down on the couch, he looked oddly tired.

“Of course I know where you live, I just didn’t want you to expect me to come over. Have dinner, spoon, all that.” George was never not direct. You stood, watching him as he kicked his heels beside your half empty bottle of numbness.

“Do you want me to order food?” You smirked as he shrugged.

In the half hour it took for the food to be delivered, you explained what had happened since you had last seen each other. How you had been tracking the members of the BAU, gaining their trust during the short time you worked with them on the investigation and how your placement within the Bureau was growing more of a hindrance than a help.

George listened, but only asked questions when it had to do with the agents’ personal lives. He didn’t exactly tell you good job, but he gave you an impressed glance once or twice. You took what you could get out of him, it was better than being needy. He kept the whiskey away from you most of the night, insisting that the food you ordered should more than sustain you. After you had gone over every detail and the next few steps of the plan, did he finally touch you.

You hadn’t grown dependent on him, nor were you only sating your desires together. But it was good to know he was coming back to you, willingly. Even under the radar fugitive serial killers needed someone, every once in a while. He nuzzled against your neck his eyes drinking in the soft skin along your shoulders. His strong fingers dragged the straps of your tank top down, leaving the fabric resting on the peaks of your chest. But then, he was gone. The warmth and manic energy fading from you as he paced the room; a lion in a cage.

“Take your clothes off,” He said it quietly, his eyes staring you down. You stared back, fighting to keep the smirk from your face. Instead of continuing where he left off, you kicked off your shoes, shimming out of your tailored suit pants. You carefully folded them and draped them on the couch. You walked back to the center of the room, in just your lace thong and barely hanging on camisole. The welts he had given you last time had faded, his eyes hovering over your hips.

You made sure to hold your chin up as you dragged your fingertips along the crest of your breasts, tracing along the thin material. You caressed your nipples through the fabric, the feeling of being watched simmering between shame and exhilaration. George’s groan turned nearly into a purr as you dragged your nails down, leaving raised streaks in evenly spaced rows as you took off your top. His signature was still there, placed in the center of your chest, you felt him look for it as you slid the bunched material over your hips, taking the flimsy panties with it.

“You sure know what you’re doing, Y/N.” George teased, his pants tight against his length. “A little slut like you must be spreading that pussy over every inch of the Bureau.”

That hurt, not because of the name-calling, that wasn’t the problem. The suggestion that you were sleeping with all those pencil pushing limp-dicks on your floor made your skin crawl.

“Did I hit a nerve?” George’s voice perked with the wavering on your face.

“You know there’s no one else.” You whispered, standing completely naked as he circled around you.

“Maybe. Maybe you just need a real man to make up for all those that couldn’t give you what you need.” George’s voice was in the kitchen, he was looking through drawers for something. He reentered the room behind you. You inhaled and exhaled as his footfalls got closer.

“And what’s that?” You said over your shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about it.” George crooned.

“No, I mean. What do I need?” Your voice caught on a whimper as the rough object was pulled up your thigh.

“You, Y/N, you need to be shown what a tender piece of ass you are.”

The first blow hit against your ass, it was swift and biting. A meat tenderizer; making the blood pool to the surface as it hemorrhaged. You wouldn’t be able to sit tomorrow.

You lay curled on your stomach clutching the pillows, the night air falling on your warm skin. George had had quite the fit with your body. From your natural waist down to your mid thighs was a battering of bruises ad gashes. He would take breaks to watch your face, waiting for the pain to lessen just enough before he started again. He used the dull side more than the piercing side which meant the pain was deeper and the damage would last longer. You had given up on being intimate, the need to remain upright overcoming any primal masochistic desire. When he was done he fucked you senseless, barking encouragement as you whimpered from the friction. He was getting scarier the longer you played along.

He came over his handiwork, the fluid burning against the raw skin of your backside. You hadn’t even seen him undressed, he just put himself away to fall asleep on your bed. Something he had never done in front of you before. It was too vulnerable a thing, sleep. Sleep is what mortals did, not Fate incarnate. But there he was, spread out beside you, sleeping like a baby. The price bought for the near intimacy was etched into your skin.

The thought of covering his face with one of the pillows floated through your mind more than once. Just as you looked at the clock to estimate how long it would take to apply the right amount of pressure, figuring in if your body weight would be enough to keep him pinned down, your phone rang. Not the burner George used, your FBI issued phone.

“Turner.” You answered after limping back to the living room.

“Have you heard back from Sgt. O’Mara on the last of the interviews with the harassment victims?”

“Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“It’s one in the morning.” You shuffled into the kitchen to grab a pain killer and the whiskey George had taken from you earlier.

“It is?” He hadn’t been home, the confusion laced with exhaustion on each syllable. “It is, sorry about that Turner. I obviously lost track of time.”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry?”

“You can call me Y/N.”

“Right. I’m sorry to bother you so late. Please, just get back to me at a reasonable hour.” Hotch sighed.

“He hasn’t reached out to me, for the record. But I will check my email when I get in, in a few hours.” You hummed as you used your hip to close the fridge, instantly regretting it.

“Oh, okay then, sure.”

“Hotch?” You closed your eyes imagining him still upright at his desk, spread out before him the BAU bullpen dark and deserted. “Did you just get back from a case or have you been at it all night?”

“If I said the later would you think less of me?” Was he making a joke?

“Not at all. He gets in my head too.” You confided.

“Yeah, the problem with that is he gets off on it.” He said it like a confession. “Stopping him is the only way out of the game.”

“If only it were that easy.” You huffed. “Listen, Chief, you need to get some rest. I know you’re super profiler man, but honestly, go home.”

“Well, if Y/N Turner says so, I must be losing my edge.”

“Not in the least. I’ll talk to you in the much later morning, Hotch.”

“Sounds like a plan. Night, Turner.”

“Goodnight Aaron.” You set the phone down and took a long pull from the bottle. Your stomach pitching at the turn the conversation had taken and the alcohol. Get your head on straight, Y/N.

Aaron Hotchner set the phone back into the cradle atop his large desk. His watch ticked away on his wrist reminding him of all the lost time he had spent chasing Foyet. Something about Y/N was still bothering him, he glanced at her employment file picture atop the paperwork. She was invested in this case, but something else was drawing him to her. What bothered him was that he couldn’t figure out if it was profiler’s instincts or just unnecessary chemical attraction.

Or both.

@a-unique-girls-heaven @gummiishark @rottendaisies @sunnygubler @lovebodymindstuff @archaic-zugswang @darkheartednerdwithglasses @mikri-oneiropola @princesswagger14 @justwinchesterme96 @profiler-in-training @kennybud @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @conversations-with-you-61065  @dontshootmespence @criminallyyoursdrreid @cynbx @cherry-loves-fanfic @hotchnerfuckmeup @illegalcerebral @omallieallie @creativecody16 @kandii395 @tiny-potato-lives

#Criminal Minds #Hotch #Foyet #smut #Reader x Unsub #infiltrated #CM Fanfic #Hotch x Female Reader #foyet x female reader #violence #blood #dark and twisty