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݁ ˖ִ ࣪ᯓ✮ to the stars who listen, HOBBIES AND INTERESTS ✶⋆.˙
☆ crochet ☆ painting ☆ love dr stone so much i'm employed full time to glaze it ☆ big fan of one piece ☆ avid manhwa reader ☆ a step mother's marchen taking the cake right now ☆ followed by return of the mount hua sect ☆ love my princess kaiser if you couldn't tell ☆
݁ ˖ִ ࣪ᯓ✮ and the dreams that are answered, MY BLOG ✶⋆.˙
☆ i write strictly for dcst and bllk ☆ absolutely loathe writing for jjk but i make a reluctant exception for my princess vampy ☆ write for any genres besides nsfw content ☆ requests are CLOSED as i try to complete the current ones ☆ i try to upload something every week ☆ take a look at my schedule which will be updated on a regular basis ☆
݁ ˖ִ ࣪ᯓ✮ to be a star you must burn, SCHEDULE ✶⋆.˙
☆ jotaro fic + isagi or senku fic maybe... ☆
݁ ˖ִ ࣪ᯓ✮ the stars that shine the brightest, MY PERSONAL FAVS ✶⋆.˙
☆ your eyes tell ☆ uno ☆ a carrot for a bunny ☆ owlette and catboy ☆ princess tangled ☆ wounded love ☆ pretty privilege ☆ cola contrails ☆
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☆ torucosmetics ☆ galette des rois ☆ accidental confessions ☆ mehndi night ☆ ch 6 - a diary's guidance ☆
݁ ˖ִ ࣪ᯓ✮ the stars that guide us, NAVIGATION ✶⋆.˙
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If there was one part of soccer Sae didn't care for, it was the mindless interviews.
A post-match interview? Fine.
A sponsorship shoot? Tolerable.
One of those painfully awkward videos where they sat professional athletes in front of puppies and expected them to reveal their deepest secrets?
Absolutely not.
Most interviews followed the same formula.
'How does it feel to score?'
'What's your workout routine?'
'Who inspires you?'
Questions that have been asked a thousand times and would be asked another thousand after, so when Sae entered the media room after his match, he was already halfway checked out.
The journalists sat in neat rows, hands poised over notebooks and laptops, waiting for their turn. The first few questions went exactly as expected.
"How do you feel about today's victory?"
"It was expected."
"What do you think separated your team from the opposition?"
"We played better."
The room collectively deflated with every short answer.
Good.
Maybe they'd end this faster.
Then someone spoke from the third row.
"During the second half, you stopped making overlapping runs and started occupying deeper spaces."
Sae's eyes shifted.
You weren't even looking at your notes.
You were looking directly at him.
"The commentators said it was because the opposing midfield was pressing higher," you continued. "But from where I was sitting, it looked more like you were baiting their defensive line into stepping forward."
Several reporters blinked.
One quietly stopped typing.
Sae tilted his head.
For the first time all afternoon.
"...Go on."
The moderator looked surprised.
You didn't.
"When their center-backs stepped up, they left space behind them. Twenty-three minutes later, your through ball created the winning goal."
You glanced at your notebook.
"Was that adjustment planned before the match, or was it something you recognized in real time?"
The room fell silent.
Because that wasn't a fan question.
It wasn't a tabloid question.
It was a gameplay question.
And a good one.
Sae leaned back in his chair.
"It wasn't planned."
A few heads snapped toward him.
Long answers were apparently a rare event.
"Their right center-back kept abandoning his position whenever their midfielder lost possession."
You nodded immediately.
"The number four?"
"Yeah."
You scribbled something down, it wasn't anything of substance you just wanted to look a little more put together.
Sae found himself watching you longer than necessary.
"Did you notice it before halftime?" you asked.
"I noticed it after twelve minutes."
A slight pause, "You?"
"About seventeen."
One of the reporters nearly dropped his pen.
Sae stared then, unexpectedly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Slow."
A few journalists looked genuinely horrified.
You simply shrugged.
"I wasn't on the field."
The moderator looked like he had accidentally wandered into a private conversation.
The rest of the interview continued similarly.
Every question you asked dug deeper.
It was like there was no one else in the room. No other interviewer dared to ask a question, likely because they were trying to write down everything he was telling you.
Not once did you ask about his dating life.
Not once did you ask who he was friends with.
Not once did you ask him to rank teammates or reveal embarrassing stories.
And for perhaps the first time in years, Sae found himself answering because he wanted to.
By the end of the interview, he'd spent nearly twenty minutes speaking almost exclusively to you.
Something that didn't go unnoticed.
As the session wrapped up, the moderator thanked everyone for attending.
Most reporters immediately packed their things.
You did too, no attempt to linger or a request for a photo, you just grabbed your bag and left.
۶ৎ
Sae watched you leave.
"...What's her name?"
The moderator nearly choked.
"The journalist?"
"Obviously."
The man blinked then told him. He felt so starstruck that Sae Itoshi was talking to him that he handed him a card with the name of your company and some of your contact information.
Sae committed it to memory before standing and walking away.
Across social media, clips from the interview exploded within hours.
'WHY WAS SAE ACTUALLY TALKING???'
'HE ANSWERED IN FULL SENTENCES.'
'Who is that reporter???'
'Not him smiling because she challenged him.'
'Did anyone else catch him asking for her name after the interview????'
'SAE ITOSHI YOU ARE NOT SLICK.'
Even the players noticed.
The next morning, Sae walked into training to find several teammates waiting.
With grins.
Dangerous grins.
"Good morning, Sae," Shidou sang.
Sae immediately turned around.
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm going to say."
"Yes, I do."
"That journalist seemed nice."
Sae kept walking.
"She understood soccer."
The entire locker room erupted.
He'd never admit it, but they were right. He did remember you and he already told his manager and publicist that you were the only person he wanted to be interviewed by for the foreseeable future.
watching the wc rn and idk wtf SK's goalkeeper just did so I turned it off and decided to write about the BEST soccer player ever :3
I was just scrolling on tumblr and itshowed me blogs I last checked out I think, and I’m staring at ur blog and for some reason it says follow meaning I’ve yet to do it
I was just scrolling on tumblr and itshowed me blogs I last checked out I think, and I’m staring at ur blog and for some reason it says follow meaning I’ve yet to do it
☆ In which: you’ve been stuck in a petrified body, with the only thing left to do is mull over the pathetic mistakes of your past life and how you ended up being saved by the greediest man in the world - whose desire desires all of you.
☆ contains: gn!reader, inaccurate depiction of supermoons, season four spoilers, no beta we die like men
☆ A/N: HiHi! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ FINALLY! I’VE FINISHED!! I know I am a few days late, but here we are! I love this fic so much I think it’s honestly my favourite. I cried when I finished writing this. I really hope you all enjoy it! I might write for Dcst a bit more regularly since I have a Senku series I’ve been meaning to write, but we’ll see!!! Anyways I love you all and happy reading! ヾ(＾ ∇ ＾).
Wc: 9,390 words [ second longest fic I’ve ever done!! ]
You hated Ryusui Nanami
The world feels as though it was frozen in time. Every fibre of your body being consume by the shining green light is all that you could recall. What was one skin turned into solid stone as you stare - petrified. The only thing not stuck in place is your mind. Your brilliant screaming spinning mind.
What are you thinking of? Many people would’ve assumed it would be panic. Perhaps even a ridiculously accurate counting system if you are insane. Yet, neither are right. Nor are any other logical conclusions others might have thought of.
What you are thinking of was rather simple. Rather idiotic if you are being honest. It was something so silly and dumb and childish that it makes your heart ache in such a familiar way.
It is your research.
Perhaps it is habit after being a self-proclaimed scientist for so long, yet all you could do was quietly try to interpret your final piece of data before the paper before you decompose. No matter how useless its knowledge is, it’s still knowledge. It’s still a step into the future. A small one yes – but a step nonetheless.
Oh look at you. You’re just trying to cling onto the hope that everything you dedicated your life to was actually important. You’ve been doing this your whole life. You know better.
If your body isn’t frozen in stone, you would’ve pulled your limbs together. You would’ve cover your mouth trying to stifle the noises that came out. Your eyes would water and blur as you’d try to pretend it is all worth it in the end. But, it’s not.
How could measuring radio waves from the moon be any useful? How could understanding every crease and crevice be any useful? How could measuring the weight of every stone bird be useful? Maybe they were right.
For how could any of it be useful if you can’t bring yourself to talk about it?
It sucks. Words and conversations feeling like sharp needles poking at your throat anytime you want to say anything. You can barely manage a grocery run. Let alone talk about some silly passion project.
You want to talk about your project. You want the fame and the value of your work to finally be recognized. Yet, you are so scared. You are terrified of everything you’ve been thinking about being said out loud. You are scared of hearing the words you told yourself for months.
You’ve only ever voiced out what your research was about once. There was one unfortunate soul who heard. Who sat there for hours as you mumbled about how these waves don’t seem to be thermal; how something was off about those stone birds. You quietly pitied him when you came to your senses and realized what you’d done.
You pity Nanami Ryusui.
Ever since you both were young, he’s sit and listen to your little rambles. He’d beg, whine and cry for you continue. He’ll exclaim that he desired all the knowledge you had in your head. His hand would grip onto yours as he listens so passionately.
Did he understand what you were talking about? You doubt it. Yet his brown eye shined with an unfiltered desperation. The desperation for you to continue. That was your first mistake.
No, in fact that was your third mistake. Three mistakes that culminated into a long game of cat and mouse. A game of tag that left your legs aching and your heart pounding after every interaction. A game you could finally rest from.
When that green light of petrification washed over humanity, you accept it like a blessing from an omnipotent force. Your petrified face is one where your mouth relaxed into a smile. Your eyes staring straight at the beam. As your vision disappears and your heart is pounding you just wanted to scream in joy.
For you are finally free. Free from all the fears of finding him again. Free from all the judging overlooks of society. Free from all the pressure about the worth of your work.
You are all practically dead anyways; what else is there to do then analyze? Well, maybe you could keep count of how long you’ve been petrified. Maybe you could’ve been analyzing something useful. Maybe you could’ve done something better.
As a familiar ache in your heart reappears you question, is this a free field or just another prison yard?
You suppose it didn’t matter. The answer won’t free you in any way. It would just give you acceptance over your current blind and deaf state. Either option leaves you immobilize.
If you could, you would’ve stop your thoughts there. Yet you had a curse. A curse of analysis and thirst for knowledge that can only be kept alive with your subconscious. So for each change in season - every passing year - you thought.
Before long, sight became something you can’t recall. Sound comes soon after. Movement stop acting as a concept worth considering. You stop wondering whether or not you could ever escape; accepting the still reality of your future.
Until you hear a crack.
A sharp piercing crack. It is followed by subsequent louder crunches. The once muffled world broke into harsh snap. The sudden thuds of the fallen stone fill your ears as the stone crumbles around you.
Your vision fills with white as you open your eyes. The sun’s unforgiving rays blinding you as your hand covers your face. Trees and foliage blur into one as your eyes readjust from the previous darkness. Figures and faces go ignored as your mind drifts to your hands.
Your now bruised hands. Bruised from sliding against the ground as you fall back. A sharp pain running down your spine as you make impact with the ground. Your exposed skin getting scratched and clawed at as you lay limply.
It is too bright. It is too loud. It is too painful. Which could only lead to one thing. One thing you’ve been debating whether you dreaded or anticipated.
Freedom.
You take a sharp breath in as the feeling of the fabric - that you once wore - is replaced with a new material. It is softer, more breathable. It is something that someone must have cared to make.
You are no idiot. You can’t have revived yourself and spawned in new clothes. You know you aren’t alone. You can’t be. How could you be alone when multiple people stand before you?
As the fuzzy blindness of the light begins to fade, your eyes concentrate on the looking shadows before you. Shapes and forms that can’t be anything if not human. Your voice seems to get caught in your throat as you look up. Eyes analyzing you from overhead.
“What the…” your curse dies on your tongue as your eyes meet one man in particular. Your body tenses as you push yourself back. It feels as though you are about to choke. It feels like you are going to die. It feels like you are running back into the thing you tried to escape from.
The wounds scattered around your body ache with each movement of your body as you revolt backwards. You can’t let him notice you. You can’t let him see you. You can’t relive that life.
You are finally free. Yet freedom was nothing more than an another maze. A labyrinth filled with temptations of pleasure that lead to traps. You want to cry. How much of a sinner were you in the old world to be damned to such a fate?
For your eyes gaze into shining hazel ones. Eyes so wide it felt like they were trying to consume you whole. Every detail - every movement - was being watched. You are being watched.
The figure watches you as he extends a hand to your fallen figure. A wide grin pulling at his face as you stare at his fingers. Blue marks littering them. For a moment, you could pretend it wasn’t him. You could be ignorant. Wistfully away is your sanctuary of denial.
Until - of course - you touched his hand.
It was a moment of stupidity. A moment of idiocracy. A moment of being too trusting. Yet, you found yourself pressing your hand into his. Your fingers curling around a calloused covered hand.
You can feel every rough patch on his skin. Every part where skin was being worn and strengthens through years of sailing. You could feel each bump and inconsistency. You could feel his hand again.
It’s unfair. It’s unfair how his hands are still so warm. How his fingers are so soft. How - underneath all of the bruises and scratches and new skin - is the same small hand that held you captive all those years ago.
It’s unfair that despite running, you find yourself back in this endless dance.
The floor feels uneasy beneath you as you try stabilize yourself against the ground. Your hand retracts the second you could stand. Soft breathes from the various other members fall on deaf’s ear as you stand face to face with him.
Your hands clench around nothing as he prepares to speak. Your chest tightens whilst you anticipate what he’ll say. Praise? Insults? Admitting this was all a mistake and he recognized the wrong statue? You can’t seem to decide which could possibly the worst outcome.
“Do you remember the moon signals?”
“The moon signals?”
The syllables taste weird on your tongue. Your mouth forming odd shapes as you try recalling whatever he’s referring to. Unfortunately, The odd sound of your voice is what your brain chooses to single in on; ignoring the moon signals. Had you always sounded so hoarse?
As your mind begins to drift, you watch as a familiar gloved hand covers Ryusui’s mouth. A polite smile is shown at you as firm hands lead you to sit down on a near by rock. The once white gloves are stained as they patch up the scratches on your arm. A gentle voice eases you out of your tribulations.
“Master Ryusui, I apologize but you must remember that they have just been revived,” Francois speaks with a soft yet firm tone. Emphasizing any word that can evoke empathy. “Please wait.”
“You should listen to Francois, Ryusui-Chan!” A cheery voice you once heard over the radio years ago reaches your ears. Your eyes wonder to the infamous magician himself - Asagiri Gen. When did these two meet? Last time you checked he was in America while you and Ryusui were here in Japan.
“Ahh yeah,” A young boy with spiky white and green hair appears beside Ryusui. His attire folding and moving as he walks closer to you. His red eyes staring at you up and down. “There’s no answer they can give that would be useful without context.”
There was no answer that you could be useful, is what you wanted to argue. But your mouth is preoccupied by a piece of bread offered to you by a young child. Your mind drifts in and out of focus as you try to listen to what these new individuals were telling you. But you can’t.
All your mouth can taste is the bread. It’s bland. Not particularly soft. It tastes like something a bakery made that you’d buy in the afternoon. Yet, you keep chewing.
The bread grinding against your teeth felt oddly comforting. The familiar sensation of sustenances filling you feels, healing. Whether you were physical or emotionally hungry is unclear. It was unclear back then too.
The sun was particularly bright in that cafe. The soft afternoon light draping over the words written on your page. Scribbles of different questions that had haunted your brain were written across your books. The only thing separate was a lone bread.
The lone neglected bread sat before you; watching you trying to solve another aching question. Perhaps it was wondering what you were doing. Why you were wasting time. Why you weren’t studying, or socializing. You were sent outside to go ‘talk to people,’ so why are you so blatantly disobeying orders you normally run to fulfill?
Well, who were you to talk to?
To these people, you were nothing more than a middle school student. Scribbling away at what ought to be homework. To your classmates, you were the quiet agreeable somewhat weird science kid. To those you’ve emailed about your questions, you were a brat. So, who could you speak to.
It’s not as though you particularly wanted to speak to anyone either. You couldn’t stand it after all. The choreographed responses. The unsaid prompts you were meant to reply with. The tightening on your chest as you try to push words past your lips. It was torture you’d happily avoid.
However - as most do - you were undeniably lonely. Afterall, a scientist longs to share their discoveries. That’s how science has evolved. Yet, you could push down your instinct in fear.
But, how can you push down instincts when faced with acceptance?
You can’t really recall when the both of you met. Your mothers were well acquainted. Yet, you never could remember being introduced to him. He was simply there.
He was there in your life like how he was here in the cafe. Loud voice echoing as he placed his order. His hair almost appeared golden in the sunlight. The sight of him almost made you want to regurgitate the bread.
Yet the opposite is true for him.
For before you knew it, he sat before you. The only thing separating the both of you, were your walls of research and notes. The only thing separating the both of you was your bread. The only thing separating the both of you was your silence. A silence you choose to maintain.
The soft clicks of the clock acted as a musical score to your silent ballet. Your hand would write various notes, whilst his eyes followed your writing. Your mouth would occasionally mumble theories while his would remain shut. Your constant bites of food would be matched with his drinks.
It was almost like clockwork the way you two worked.
You had originally planned to shoo him off as you normally do. He was nothing more than an immature boy was he not? Always demanding for the world. It was only logical.
Yet something seemed to stop you. It wasn’t your childhood bond - if you could even call it that. You could barely recall a meeting with him you enjoyed. You’d spent afternoons trying to hide in the Nanami’s estate, hiding from this rambunctious boy.
After all, he’s spend his days whining and demanding the world. He was trying to pry out everything he could from you. He was trying to make you lose composure. He was trying to desire you too.
However love doesn’t come without trust. Therefore you ran. You were running from the fear of being something someone would desire. Something someone would look for. Something someone would remember. It haunted you.
Yet, you didn’t seem to fear that as you sat before him. For he didn’t speak a word. A desire never left his lips as he watches you work. Even as people filter in and out, and once full plate turn empty, he stayed quiet. It was as though your presence domesticated him.
Therefore he could stay.
You let him stay till you decided to return home to dwell for longer about various space missions. You let him stay till you ran out of paper to work with. You let him stay till you made a mistake. For you made a grave mistake that day.
A mistake that haunts you. A mistake that poison your blood and striped you raw. A mistake that holds you in the limelight of a circus. For it was a mistake that was the first of three. What was it?
It was the mistake of letting Ryusui fall for you.
You weren’t an idiot. You knew what love was. You knew what it looked like. You knew when Ryusui’s eyes shined brightly up at you, that it wasn’t something friends did. You knew when he clutched your hand and asked your to come over to his, you both were no longer platonic.
Was it because you let him stay? Was it because you let him watch you work? Was it because you stayed? Perhaps. Yet hypothesis can only be confirmed through repeatable results. Unfortunately for everyone, people often only love in the same way once. Therefore you may never truely understand his mind.
All you could deduct is that he no longer desired the world. He no longer desired a future as the heir to the Nanami Conglomerate. He no longer desired any vain thing others would desire. Instead he desired a person.
You.
You hate how you could still see his love now. The way his eyes practically glimmer as Francois helps you to rest. The way he watches your expression to ensure you’re following along. The way he sighs in relief at each of your nods. You hate it.
You hate how your mind chooses to focus on him instead of the words being aimlessly thrown at you. A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you try listening to Senku once more. Your mouth parts slightly as the situation at hand becomes clearer. A weak nod is all they receive as you daze off.
“So tell us,” Your eyes look up at Senku; watching the boy’s mouth breaking into a grin. His red eyes shimmering. “What do you remember about those Moon radio waves?”
What do you remember? You almost want to laugh. The last thing you remember doing was measuring the frequency of an odd message being sent down to earth. He should be asking something more practical. You could tell him everything.
“I don’t remember anything,”
Yet you don’t.
Concerns and light whispers circle around you. The pain caused by Francois’ alcohol makes you want to flinch. Yet you can’t. All you could do is sit there and listen to the gossip and rumours that ran your life.
Your eyes focus on the trees behind everyone. The way the sunlight filters through them turns blurry as you continue to stare forward. The cool rock beneath you presses marks into your skin as you press your fist stronger against them. You allow yourself to flinch at Francois’ touches.
Perhaps there is a part of you that wanted to share and explain. But you can’t. It is the truth you had learned to live with. The truth not everyone could accept.
A larger warm blue highlighted hand is pressed against your shoulder. It’s rough texture scratches against your shoulder. Your fingers curl with the need to push Ryusui off. Yet once again you can’t.
“Right then! Let’s head back to the village and you can get some rest!” Ryusui’s voice is almost soothing as he nudges you to stand. Your legs feel weak beneath you as you lift yourself up. Yet, his hand is there — stabilizing you.
It’s awfully mundane. You’d expected to at least feel some sort of guilt for not saying anything. Yet, you don’t feel any difference. Perhaps the weight of guilt feels light to trained arms.
Perhaps instead of feeling guilty you heart was too preoccupied by worrying about Ryusui.
The hand on your back is a constant reminder of him. A light force suggesting the path to you. The side of his thumb pressing deeper into you. It is all so evoking.
Evoking of what? You aren’t too sure. All you can focus on is the sound of your syncopated footsteps and the blow of the wind. It is almost hypnotic.
Silences between the both of you had always been comforting. Yet this one felt particularly so. There is no need to speak. There iss no need to explain. There is no need to do. All that is necessary is to exist. That you are grateful for.
The trees of greens and browns turn into blurs as you continue to walk along side Ryusui. It’s so odd. In another life you’d be running away down roads and streets. Yet now, you’re simply walking besides him. Is it wrong to say that this felt like a break?
It is almost serene. Almost peaceful. It is as though you were back in the stone, only with the luxery of movement. For a moment, you understood the joy Ryusui found in your shared silences.
The hand behind you presses a little harder into your back. Firmly urging you to quicken your pace. The soft crunching between your feet still sounds as though you were walking. Yet, you can’t deny the growing distance between you and the group.
Surprisingly, there is no hesitance in your steps. You walk forth as though you know your way around the stone world. It’s funny. It’s funny how a simple touch can provide trust like no other.
“You remember don’t you?” His voice sounds different now. It’s hoarser, quieter, softer. He almost sounds scared asking. No. Not scared. Careful. “The radio waves from the moon?”
A sigh leaves your lips. Your gaze lifts to the blue skies overhead. You can’t see the waves, but you can’t deny something you’ve spent your life understanding. You nod your head softly.
“Of course I do,” you look up at him as you confessed. You are expected a look of disappointment. Perhaps frustration. Maybe even anger.
Instead he laughs.
A deep hearty laugh that seems to flow with the wind. His shoulders moves with each laugh. His eyes shut as his mouth closes into a large grin. Eyes crinkling around the edges as he looks at you.
His lips press together into a soft smile. His gaze is focused before the both of you. His shoulders drop as his laughter leaves. It is as though he was finally breathing.
“I’m glad you didn’t change,”
His words linger for a moment as he stares ahead. The soft warm light making his hair appear golden. His hair softly blows in the wind. It framing his face effortlessly.
His eyes are wide as he watches the horizon slowly approach. They are a warm brown. The highlights in his eyes turn into little stars; stars holding all his desire in the world.
A sweet smile is on his face. His shoulders relaxed as his hand continues to press against you. The freckles on his face appearing softer. It is as if there is no where else in the world he’d rather be.
He looks, ethereal. No. Ephemeral. You’d always found him ephemeral. Beautiful in moments of silences yet irritating anytime else. Yet, this kind of beautiful feels a little different.
His hair never glowed like this. His eyes never shined like this. His face was never this endearing. Perhaps he was never ephemeral. Perhaps he was only pretty. A pretty you are too petty to acknowledge.
The thought haunts your mind for the remainder of the walk. The various tree and animals does nothing to sooth your thoughts. The crunch of the leaves only acts as background noise. Even the sound of the rest of the group - when they finally reach up - goes ignored.
It is only when you approach civilization again your mind stops. Your eyes pan over as you see various huts and structures. They are nothing compared to the various sky scrapers and apartment complexes you used to walk past — yet they were nice. Quaint if you will.
There is almost something domestic about seeing little children run around. Almost something sweet as you watched various people engage with trade with each other. It all feels too human watching the village live. Which is perhaps why you sigh when you are brought towards a ship.
To call it a ship is an understatement. For a ship isn’t close to being as grand as the vessel before you. It’s wooden structure is sturdy and something beyond your imagination. The size of the ship made you take a step back to appreciate its beauty.
“She’s pretty ain’t she?” Ryusui says besides you. His smile turning into a grin of pride. “This is our Perseus! We’re planning to make a voyage around the world to gather materials for a space ship to head to the moon,”
“That isn’t happening if we aren’t sure on our lead of the moon,” a deeper voice says beside you. Senku sighed as he stares up at the sky. “It’s only a hypothesis that our enemy is up there. There no way we can confirm where the radio signals are from,”
No. No there is a way to confirm where they are from. That’s what you desperately wanted to say. Yet, your information goes undisclosed as you all stood there in silence. Your mouth is sealed as you boarded the ship for a small tour.
The ship is even grander the second you step on. Its vastness made you feel almost minuscule. The soft rock of the waves beneath you feels familiar. The wind pushes your hair back as you stare at the various structure.
Yet the thing that keeps your focus were the floors. The plank floors. Floors that thump when you walk across them. Floor that creak when you jump on them. Floors that remind you of the floors you once ran on.
You can remember that evening almost perfectly. Your shoes thumping against wooden surfaces as you hid from Ryusui. Hiding maybe the wrong word. You were perhaps waiting for him.
The desk of his ship was wide and vast. It felt like enough space to scream and run around yet small enough it felt safe. The dark nature of the night sky and the docked nature of the ship left you to be alone as you set up a small telescope of sorts. You waited while watching the clock tick.
Your foot tapped against the wooden floor as you waited. Your eyes traces constellations as you waited. You heart pounded as you waited. You couldn’t help but get excited.
For perhaps for the very first time you’d see the subject of your investigations in its full glory. Perhaps you’d uncover what those unidentifiable radio waves were truly saying. Perhaps you’d see the man on the moon you’ve been talking to. Maybe none of that will happen.
Maybe the only thing that would happen is you and Ryusui staring at the moon. Maybe the only thing that would happen is small talk between the both of you. Maybe the only thing that would happen is a wave good bye as the sun will behind to rise. It was too early to say.
Yet, it wasn’t too early to call Ryusui late. Normally you’d panic. Perhaps be annoyed. Yet, this time you felt a bit more lenient.
For normally Ryusui wouldn’t recheck his eldest brother’s room in case of his return. Normally Ryusui wouldn’t walk up and down the hall in solitude before Francois would remind him of the time. Normally Ryusui wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his desire of you. Yet, life wasn’t very normal.
Most people say you’re far too caring. A bit too lenient on the boy. Sure it’s been over years since Sai left, yet, it only felt recent. It felt recent to you at least.
It must be recent if everything still felt new. It must be recent if you still struggled to say no. It must be recent if you are still leaning against the ships rails and staring at the night sky overhead.
If you were still enough, you could see the clouds moving away from the stars. If you were still enough, you could see how everything was changing so fast you couldn’t see the changes. If you were still enough, it almost felt like it’s been a few days since the start of your operation. Everything moved a bit too quickly didn’t it?
You sighed as you stared at the water beneath you. Your eyes raking over your appearance. You shook your head softly, before noticing a new figure beside you, one whose blonde hair shone in the moonlight.
“So what is it that you would like to show me?” Ryusui’s voice lifted with a grin on his face. His eyes stared at yours through the water. “It’s not our reflections is it?”
A small laugh left your lips as you shake your head. Your fingers get to work adjusting the telescope. Yet, the telescope was useless. For the real beauty was seeing it with your naked eye.
You and Ryusui looked up at the moon. It was bright shining brighter than usual. It was bigger, closer to us both figuratively and physically. It was entrancing.
Your hands released the cold metal of the telescope as you pointed to the shape in the sky. The answer to all your questions. The final destination of your research. The only thing you could ever desire.
“It’s a supermoon,”
The words slip out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You doubted Ryusui even knew what a supermoon was. It was barely a scientific term itself. He likely couldn’t even tell the difference in the moon. Yet, you said it anyways.
“It’s when the full moon happens at the same time as the moon reaches it’s perigee,” you were rambling now. Your eyes never left the spherical shape before you both. “It can causes the moon to appear 14 times bigger and 30 percent brighter,”
Your eyes scanned over the moon. You had seen it millions of times. Yet, there was something peaceful about seeing its beauty with someone else. It was perhaps a link between you both.
“They happen 3 to 4 times a year and normally in clusters,” you whispered out. A soft smile was on your face. “This might not even be the biggest one. But I felt like you needed to see something nice.”
Ryusui fell quiet at your words. His eyes stared at the figure before you both. He was dying to spot anything you’ve mention. Yet, even when he doesn’t he pretends he does.
“Ah is that why the tides were so high today?” He pondered softly. His words faded into a chuckle as his eyes gazed upwards.
“Mhm,” the both of you stood in silence as you both stared up at the lunar figure. Perhaps it was only you who could see any change, yet either way something felt different between you both.
The cold wind pressed hard again the clothing on your body as the waves beneath you crash against the ships body. The wooden floors underneath you hold strong as you both continued to stand there. It was idyllic. Standing together under the moon that is.
“You said that these normally in clustered right?” He asked as you suddenly. You hummed in agreement as you looked over at him. His gaze fixed on the horizon before turning to you.
At the sound of your approval, he grinned. His teeth shone as his eyes widen. His fingers lifted up snapping extravagantly as he laughed. A sweet loud real laugh.
“Then I desire it!” His eyes never left yours as he made his proclamation. “I will see all of the supermoons with you. Together we’ll see the biggest ones.”
You could’ve said no. This was your final escape. Final warning. Yet, you were an idiot. Especially when he smiled like that for the first time in forever. So, your agreement was predictable yet still regrettable.
For that was your second mistake; letting Ryusui trust you.
Since, you did watch all the supermoons with him that year. You did stand together on the deck comparing the various sizes of supermoons. You and him both there; shining under the moonlight. It was a constant you were both afraid to admit you needed.
As you walk down the wooden path with Ryusui in this new world, you miss it. For it’s uncertain if you both will ever have the time or the knowledge to find another supermoon again. It makes your heart claw and twist in way that’s felt so odd. Is it regret?
You don’t necessarily have the heart to answer. For before your thoughts could finish you have arrive at the main room. Next to the door are metal acoustic horns, all neatly lined up. It is as though they are waiting; waiting for you.
A man with a yellow cap sits down and adjusts some frequencies. You peer over, interested in what you are meant to be listening to. The seated man nods at Senku. Who subsequently nods back.
The change in the room is electric.
You take a step forward, before taking three back. Your eyes wide as you stare at the horns. Fingernails pressing into your palm. Your mind seems to scream as you listen.
Listen to the man on the moon you’ve been conversing with.
You have never heard him before. The basis of all your research are the waves themselves. Yet your computer and lack of equipment means you could barely get any further. However you can dream.
You’ve always imagine the man on the moon to have a deep voice. Perhaps a bit raspy. You’ve always imagine him being serious and say nothing more than what needed to be said.
Your expectations are close enough. For this man too has a deeper voice. It isn’t quite raspy but rather choppy. As if he isn’t saying words, but combining syllables. It is all too unnatural. All too fake. It sounded all too much like—
“Our friend Why-man here has been using my voice this whole time,” Senku explains. His hands moving as he recounts their events with Why-man. “He seems pretty set on not revealing his voice. I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve heard it too?”
You nod in confirmation. Once again staring at the acoustic horn. You have never tried listening to him. Not only of account of your equipment, but he never said anything. Only Morse code.
Yet now, he’s repeating a single phrase. A phrase over and over again it’s ingrained in your mind. Two numbers and two measurement. Repeated again.
“12,800,000 meters, 1 second” you repeat softly. You lips pressing against each other at the sound of your own broken voice. “He keeps saying it,”
“The petrification device is activated through saying the diameter of the petrification range and the time it will take to complete,” says the man in the yellow hat - who you later find to be called Ukyo - calmly. He looks up at you with a knowing look as your fist clenches tighter.
12,800,000 meters. The diameter of the earth. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that the man you’ve been studying had been the one who bestowed your centuries of freedom. Perhaps it was a thank you, or perhaps it was an attempt to kill you before you found out more.
“So you need me to confirm the location of this ‘why-man’ right?” You ask as Ukyo finally stops the message. A few nods and agreement fills the room. You sigh as you shake your head. “I’m not sure if we got the same guy,”
Your why-man always spoke in Morse code. Your why-man always repeated the phrase why. Your why-man never even attempt to communicate. How could you be sure they are the same?
“I’m sure we do” Ryusui grins as he walks next to you. His brown eyes glimmering as he looks at you. “He started sending us messages is Morse code,”
His fingers tap against the table in a familiar patterns. Dot, dash dash. Dot dot dot dot. Dash, dot, dash dash. It doesn’t even take a moment for you to realize what it could mean. You’ve heard it millions of times before after all.
Why.
Eyes fall onto you as you think about a response. You can tell them their answer. You can just say he is on the moon. Yet they’ve already figured that out haven’t they? Aren’t you useless in their eyes? Isn’t everything you worked for useless?
Yet, despite all this, they keep looking at you. He keeps looking at you. Ryusui keeps looking at you. They keep awaiting an answer, a confirmation, anything.
“Why-man is on the moon,” you manage to breath out. You fixate your gaze away from the group; staring away. Cheers and celebrations go ignored.
Why are they waiting for something stupid, is beyond you. Perhaps it is charity work in your eyes to entertained so many fool. Perhaps it feels too cruel to keep them waiting. Perhaps - just maybe - you want to share your research too.
A weight is placed on your shoulder as you look up. Your eyes widen slightly as Ryusui’s face once more enters your vision. Neither of you say anything. For the small nod he sends your way says everything it needs to.
Your shoulder that has been tensing this whole time drops. A small smile cracks onto your face. Your cheeks aching from the motion. You advert your gaze momentarily, just long enough for him to start laughing.
“Well then! It’s a cause for celebration!” Ryusui’s fingers click as he boastfully announces. His smile turning into a grin. “Would you like a tour of the ship?”
You open your mouth to agree before Ryusui’s hand is replaced with another. One that is small and lighter. One that pulls you slightly away. One that comes with a warning.
“Trust me say No,” the blonde girl beside you warns. Her blue dress brushing against you as she whispers into your ear. “He’s going to talk your ear off for hours!”
You tilt your head slightly at the information. Your eyes land back on Ryusui as you thought about your next action. You can retreat. You can go rest. You can perhaps even go eat.
Yet, how could you say no to him? Not when his eyes are staring at you with a small glimmer. Not when his eyes are as wide as they were when you were both young. Not when you -instead of Ryusui - see a small boy. A small boy begging you to play with him.
“Let’s go Ryusui,” you hear the girl beside you sigh and send you a parting prayer as Ryusui runs in front of you. His expression is nothing more than pure bliss, as he invites you go around the ship.
The soft glow of the sunset filtered through the windows as he shows off the control panel. It was almost like a painting. The room is enveloped in warmth as you stare. The cool silver almost appeared gold like this.
You feel somewhat bad. Ryusui and Senku are talking about science and purpose of the ship - yet you can’t pay attention. Not to Senku at least. For your eyes are transfixed onto Ryusui’s demonstrations.
His skin almost appears golden now. His dark brown eyes shines in the light as he shows you the steering wheel. The steering wheel doesn’t particularly seem like much. Yet, he talks about it with so much vigor you couldn’t help but notice the details.
Every little knack feels familiar to look at. The wood itself looks identical to something. Ryusui’s fingers curling around the wood almost felt right. It is like Deja Vu.
Except you know where you’ve seen this wheel before. You know why it’s so prominent in your mind. You know why it unsettles you slightly. For it looks like the steering wheel he was fixing then.
The soft sounds of Ryusui’s muttering consoled you back then. You were gazing out of his ship’s windows as he tried readjusting the ship. As always, silence enveloped you. Yet it made you particularly uneasy that night.
You didn’t want to be there. Yet, he begged that he needed ‘moral support’ to finish the ship before Sai visited. So you showed up. Albeit begrudgingly, yet you were there.
However - now as you stood on deck - you regret that mistake. Your heart was tightening in your chest as you stared aimlessly out of the window. Your vision got blurry. Your hands clasped each other.
For, something with your research went wrong. The lead didn’t make sense. All the waves didn’t seem to match with previous data. Were you analyzing radio waves or were their microwaves? Maybe there was no outlier but your research was just inaccurate? Maybe you were just a—
“You ok there?” Ryusui’s closeness scared you. You took a gasp in as he stands before you. His head tilted to stare at you. His eyebrows scrunched up.
“Yeah it’s just,” you shook your head. You tried to laugh off your worries. Your eyes landed back on the wheel, no flaws seeming too apparent. “Anyways did you finish your steering wheel? It looks good! Well you don’t need me here so I might j-“
“No,” his answer was short as he blocked your pathway to the doorway. His hands hover against your arms, trying to decide whether to hold you or just stand there. The latter took place as he sighed.
“I didn’t want you here just for you to leave,” Ryusui said softly now. His voice broke like it did when you both were younger. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Talk?” His eyes were wide as he nodded softly. A small pout on his face as his eyes wander to the scenery behind you. The sparkle in his eyes were no where to be seen.
“It’s been a while,” it was always so odd seeing Ryusui so soft. It felt raw. It felt real. It was beautiful in a way.
Yet - what you weren’t expecting - was to feel a similar way at his next question. You don’t know what happened. Words pushed past your mouth as you just talked. You keep talking.
You should’ve stopped when the tears came. You should have stopped when he pulled up chairs for you both to stop and talk. You should have just stopped.
If you had, you wouldn’t have made your third mistake.
Yet you couldn’t. It almost felt instinctual to tell him everything. The highs. The lows. Everything. All the mistakes, all the inaccuracies. It all came out in a mess of words that you were sure he’d laugh at.
Yet, he didn’t. Perhaps he was expecting that response when he asked his question. Perhaps he didn’t. Either way all he did was stare.
“How is your research going?” That was what broke you. That was the words that turned you like that. Those five innocent words.
That once curious question had caused him to console you. His silence was comforting enough as you spoke. He didn’t say anything. He just listened.
Which was your third mistake; letting him listen to you.
For once you were done, you both stared aimlessly at the ship. The weight of your words hanging between you both. It was nice. Your sobs had died down and the silence felt nice. It was nicer than the critisim imagined.
“I don’t think they are microwaves,” Ryusui said simply. You looked over at him as he stared blankly ahead. “I think he’s trying to communicate with us,”
Communication. It would be more logical to use radio waves rather than microwaves for that. Yet the data didn’t make sense? How could something of that frequency be a radio wave?
“I don’t fully understand the science but,” his head tipped back as he stared at the ceiling. His hands moved behind his head. “I’m sure we both know that this science is beyond the both of us,”
You kept silent. What else were you meant to do? He was right after all. The science was beyond anything you could do. That why they laugh. That’s why they didn’t take you seriously. That’s why you were ignored. It was all too complex for them to want to acknowledge.
“Haha!” Ryusui laughs as he looks over at you. Not a mocking laugh, but a knowing one. As if laughing at how predictable you were. His laughter turned into a grin as he made you a promise. “Then I desire it! I desire all the knowledge you’re uncovering!”
His hair was as golden then as it was now. His smile was softer. His soft lips shining in the light. His freckles framing his face sweetly. Warm eyes stared at you as they stare at you now.
Warm sparkling eyes look at you.
The soft thumping against the floor of the Perseus echos as you listen to Ryusui’s words. Senku had long left to deal with other matters; leaving you with Ryusui. You don’t particularly mind. It is rather sweet hearing him speak of his travels aboard the Perseus.
“Finally, this is our deck!” Ryusui exclaims taking a few steps; allowing you to looking around. You sigh as you feel the cool breeze push your hair back. You admire the structure presented.
Sunset has long since passed by now, the deck being illuminated by light bulbs and the night sky. Minimal activity took place. Most other crew members are dwindling down for the night. Before long it is just the two of you.
The soft rocking of the boat continues as you walk towards the side. You lean against the cool wooden ledge as you stare at the vast ocean before you. A shimmering deep blue. You can almost understand why Ryusui spent all his time here.
Faint chatter from the crew is still audible as yours and Ryusui’s conversation died down. It’s been centuries since you’ve both stood like this. Over 3,700 years. Yet, to you it feels like just yesterday you were both leaning against Ryusui’s ship.
It kills you to know that for Ryusui, he’s spent a year without you. It kills you to know that he felt every moment of separation. It kills you to know no one was there to listen to him. Sure Francois was there, but she’s master the art of evading Ryusui’s rambles. A skill you were eager to learn.
For, the past hour between you two were filled with recounting stories. Recounting events. Recounting the year of his life you missed. His descriptions were so vivid. It was as though he wanted you to live them as well.
The cool breeze of the ocean hits your face once more. You stare into her blue waves. It’s always been so odd that the ocean is what brought you both together. Moon and waves. Astronomer and sailor. Friends and friends.
“I figured you like the deck?” Ryusui says. His expression unreadable in the reflection of the water. “I designed it based on your preferences after all!”
A small laugh leaves your lips. Are you surprised he did? Of course not. You aren’t stupid you know this was his attempt at courting you. Yet, it still adorable how sure he is of your revival.
“It’s nice,” you reply. You stare at his face. His gaze distant and a small smile forming.
“I’m glad,” he turns to face you now. His back leaning against the ledge. His eyes moving to gaze over the open deck. “I figure you’ll spend a lot of time up here on our trip to America,”
You breath hitches as you heard him. You chest tightens slightly. Your eyes widen as you look at him; trying to find a sign of lying or teasing. Only to find none.
A trip to America? A trip? That you are going on? You’re going to laugh. Why would you go with them to America? Your work is done. All you had planned to do is wait aimlessly until someone calls upon you. That is always the plan.
Yet, now he’s proposing you join their crew? The crew of their best? The crew of highest priority. You almost want to laugh at the association. Yet all that comes out was a chocked reply.
“What?” You breathe out; staring at Ryusui, whose gaze doesn’t even attempt to meet yours. It as thought he thinks everything is normal.
“Well maybe you’d spend more time with Senku in the lab b-“
“No what,” your voice is firmer now as you look at him. His eyes offer you a glance in confusion. “What do you mean a trip to America?”
“Did I not explain? We’re going there to get the corn! So we can make infinite revival fluid,” Ryusui explains. His demeanor never changing.
“Yeah I know that,” you started carefully. “What do you mean by our trip? It’s your trip.”
“No our,”
“No”
“Yes”
“No,”
“Ye-“
“Ryusui Nanami,” You don’t even realize you got louder. You don’t realize you got close to him. You don’t realize until the silence got so loud. You take a step back and look away. “I’m not going,”
“Do you not want to go to America?” Ryusui asks tentatively. He tries to step closer, but he can’t. “I mean it’s more like a voyage around the world,”
“No, I don’t and I’m not going to,” you tell Ryusui firmly. “Why should I? I’d just be extra weight you don’t necessarily need me on board?”
“Yes we do,” He tries to argue. His hands becoming more animated. More desperate. “We always need another scientist on board. Especially someone who can help interfere if Why-man communicated again,”
That’s what finally made you stop. Your breaths turns into pained laughter. Laughter that echoes over the rushing waves and wind. Laughter that dies down after you realize he was serious.
“Interfere?” You question. “I can barely research him. I can barely understand what he was saying. You think I can interfere?”
“Of course you can,” Ryusui says. His eyes gazing up at you, yet the light makes them appear black and almost empty. “You can,”
“No I can’t,” you exclaim. Your throat hoarse from screaming. Your hands flipping up as you push yourself off the ledge. “Even if I could uncover everything about Why-man, I’d discover it too late. I’d discover it too slowly. I’d never be able to explain it to anyone.”
“Yes you would be able to,” Both of you are screaming now. The sharp rocking on the ship beneath you almost goes ignored. The wind is barely a presence between you both. “You’ve always been able to explain it!”
“To you Ryusui!” Your voice is breaking now. “Just because you were too stubborn to leave, I could tell you. But I can’t. I can’t tell anyone else I’m trying but I can’t! You’re the outlier!”
The final syllable echos around the deck as you both stare at each other. His blonde hair appearing dim now. His eyes black as he stares at you blankly. He shakes his head and sighs.
“I won’t stop you from leaving,” Ryusui says; turning back to the sea. Voice quiet now. His eyes gazing above. “It’s your choice if you want to go either way. But I did not pick you since I desired you to work in the lab,”
The rocking waves crash into the boat as you watch him look down at the sea. His hands clenching hard at the wood. His eyes shut as tight as they could. Before he breaths out his answer.
“I just desired you,”
You knew he desires you. You knew he loves you. You knew he is greedy for you. Yet, it feels different hearing him say it now. His voice was so soft. Not to console you, but himself.
His arms aren’t wrapped around you after all. They rest loosely beside him; offering him all the comfort he never got. Comfort he desires most of all.
“I don’t desire you as a scientist,” he breaths out. His voice shaky. “I desire you as a partner in life. I desire your silences. I desire your inability to speak. I desire your knowledge. I don’t even desire you any more,”
“I love you,” his voice is gone by then. His eyes staring back up at the sky. Even if his face is concealed from you, but you know how it looks.
The waves rocks the Perseus in a melancholic rhythm. The wind pushing you away. The starlight is nothing in comparison to the light of the ship and the village. The wood presses against your side uncomfortably; begging you to leave.
“I’m not looking, you can leave now,” Ryusui whispers out. His voice cracking like it did when you are younger. His hair flowing to the side softly as he waits.
Wait he did as you walk closer to him. Your shoulders touching as you both look at the sky now. Shimmering stars overhead as you both stand on the same rocking ship. Your breaths falling in beat as you stood in silence.
Your eyes scan the sky before it lands on one thing in particular. The moon. It is larger than usual. Brighter than usual. It is like staring at a friend who you haven’t seen in a while. You almost want to ask him how he’s been.
“The moon is beautiful isn’t it?” You whisper out. You both stare up at the moon. It’s reflected moonlight shining at you both.
“Yeah,” Ryusui whispers back to you. You look up at him for a moment. The tears on his face shining with the moonlight. “It’d hurt less if you just left you know?”
“Why would I?” You reply, your gaze staying on him. His eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes. “You haven’t finished showing me the ship. If I’m going around the world, I’d like to know my vessel,”
The smile that breaks onto his face is almost, childlike. A wide uncontrollable smile that creases his eyes. A smile that mimics the one he’d flash anytime you used to come over. A smile that made you heart ache. His face is radiant.
His laughter is almost contagious. He snaps his fingers as he stares at you. He wanted to say something, but he doesn’t.
Instead his arms wrap around you. His touch is warm. His hold is strong. His breath was warm as he held you. Too scared to let you attempt to leave him again.
“I love you,” Ryusui whispers once more as he holds you a little tighter. His fingers memorizing the shape of your back. “Thank you”
That’s when you let yourself cry. Crying for you could never imagine being held like this. Crying for you can never imagine hearing those words. Crying for you can never imagine being stopped from leaving.
Your arms wrap around him. Pulling him even closer. You are too scared of leaving him. You couldn’t leave him. How could you?
That is when you made your fourth and final mistake. The mistake that left you stuck with him forever. The mistake that left you hugging him like you are going to die otherwise.
Your fourth mistake is letting him love you.
You both finally pull apart after too many tears being shed. Your eyes both turn towards the moon once more. Your pinky fingers still intertwined as you both stood closer to the edge.
“Tonight’s a super moon isn’t it?” Ryusui says gently. You nod in agreement. “This is the biggest I’ve ever seen the moon,”
“I think this is the first one this year no?” You ask him. Receiving a nod from him as well. You smile softly at his starstruck expression. A soft pale pink spread on his face as his eyes glimmer in the moonlight. “Well then, we need to see the other moons to see if they get any bigger,”
Ryusui nods. Before long, your conversation flows back and forth between ships to the moon to the trip. Neither of you moving. Neither of you attempting to leave. Neither of you willing to remove your hands.
You’ve always hated Ryusui Nanami.
He is greedy. He is the embodiment of entitled. He desires the world. It is his confidence in his desires that always annoyed you.
He always is sure he’d get everything he wants. He is always so confident on the surface. Yet it annoys you that people hate him, not knowing how he looks when he cries for others. It annoyed you how he desired all of humanities pain and treasures. It annoys you how he desires everyone.
Yet, what annoys you the most was how he always got everything he desires. Including your love;
Synopsis: Everyone at Hakuho has their own theory about Nagi Seishiro. Some think he’s cursed others think he’s lucky, but nobody really knows him. So when you and your friends find him sleeping through yet another class, you decide to wake him up. It’s not like curses are real anyways… right?
Nagi Seishiro was a strange one, or at least, that's what everyone said.
But really, all he'd ever wanted was a calm, peaceful life. A life where nobody bothered him, and he didn't have to bother with anyone else. A life free of trouble and effort. Or, as he would put it, a life without any "hassles."
He wanted to relax. To take things easy. To drift through life without wasting energy on things he didn't care about.
If he could choose his perfect future, it would be simple: sleeping and playing video games. That was all he liked doing, and more importantly, it was the only thing that didn't bore him.
Studying? Boring.
Thinking about the future? What a hassle.
Why waste time worrying about what comes later when he could just enjoy the present? Why put effort into something that wasn't happening yet? He didn't see the point.
So he didn't.
In fact, he avoided putting effort into anything he considered unnecessary.
When people tried talking to him, he'd simply walk away, or continue gaming as if they weren't there.
When students chased after him, begging him to join their sports clubs because of his impressive height, he'd do the same thing.
Ignore them.
So why would today be any different?
Especially when his homeroom teacher was giving them another lecture about the future. About seizing opportunities, joining clubs, participating in activities, working hard, and giving everything one hundred percent.
Nagi couldn't care less.
Now that he'd earned the reputation of Hakuhou's unmotivated weirdo, things had become much easier.
Nobody tried recruiting him anymore, nobody challenged him, nobody went out of their way to talk to him, no teasing and no conversations.
It was nice..
Quiet, peaceful even.
Putting no effort into life had become even easier now that there was nobody left to ignore. After all, why should he bother doing anything when he could simply be...
Sleeping.
-
“Hey, you guys think we should wake Nagi-kun up?”
You were just about to leave the classroom alongside your two friends when one of them suddenly stopped in her tracks. The next lesson was being held in the chemistry room, meaning everyone needed to get moving unless they wanted to be late, but there was still one student occupying the classroom.
Nagi Seishiro.
Fast asleep at his desk.
You glanced over at him. His head rested comfortably on his folded arms, messy white hair spilling over his face and obscuring most of his features from view. As far as you could remember, he'd spent the entirety of the previous lesson sleeping.
Actually, now that you thought about it, there was a decent chance he'd been asleep during the lesson before that as well.
Slowly, you found yourself wandering closer to his desk, intending to wake him up before the teacher from the next class found him still passed out in an empty room.
Before you could get very far, however, your gyaru styled friend grabbed your arm with surprising force.
“Noo! You can't!” she exclaimed, staring at you as though you'd just announced your intention to jump off the school roof. “If you talk to Nagi Seishiro you'll be cursed! You'll get bad luck just from hearing his voice!”
You paused and looked at her, trying to determine whether she was joking. Judging by the genuinely alarmed expression on her face, she unfortunately wasn't.
“My friend talked to him once,” she continued, lowering her voice into a dramatic whisper whilst casting a suspicious glance towards the sleeping boy, “and the very next day her boyfriend dumped her! I'm telling you, he's got this weird negative energy gathering around him all the time. He's the spawn of the devil!”
How strange.
Sure, Nagi was strange too. Everybody knew that much. He barely spoke, slept through classes whenever he could get away with it and always looked as though he'd rather be literally anywhere else. Still, you'd never understood why people treated him like some kind of supernatural phenomenon.
As far as you were concerned, he was just quiet and sleepy.
Maybe a little antisocial.
But nothing more than that!
“Well, that won't happen to me since I don't even have a boyfriend,” you replied dryly, earning a groan from your friend.
Before she could argue back, your other friend suddenly chimed in.
“I don't think he's cursed,” she said thoughtfully. “I've actually heard quite the opposite.”
“The opposite?” the gyaru repeated incredulously.
“Yeah. Apparently you'll be blessed if you talk to him~” A grin spread across her face. “I heard some girl spoke to Nagi-kun and ended up getting together with this really hot guy afterwards. He's basically a human four-leaf clover.”
You couldn't help smiling at that, the stories people came up with about him were honestly ridiculous.
Your eyes drifted back towards the sleeping boy. Even now, completely unconscious to the conversation happening around him, he looked perfectly peaceful. His breathing was slow and steady, and with his face partially hidden by his arms and hair, there was something oddly harmless about him.
“I mean, look at him,” you said, taking another step closer. “He looks kind of cute when he's sleeping. Just... peaceful, I guess. Honestly, how could he-”
“Y/N! Are you serious?”
You nearly jumped as your gyaru friend seized both of your shoulders.
“Evil works in mysterious ways,” she insisted with complete sincerity. “The fact he looks sweet is exactly how he deceives people!”
She immediately rounded on your other friend.
“And that girl didn't get lucky, she got tricked! ‘Hot’ guy? Do you know what else is hot?”
“Don't say it.”
“Hell!” she declared dramatically. “I'm telling you, this weirdo is casting spells on all of us.”
You exchanged an amused look with your other friend, both of you trying, and failing, not to laugh. Seriously, where did she even come up with this stuff?
“Do you actually believe any of that?” you began.
Before she could answer, a low groan suddenly interrupted the conversation.
All three of you froze.
The sound had come from Nagi.
It was quiet and muffled by his arms, little more than a sleepy complaint as he shifted slightly in his chair. One of his hands twitched before going still again, his expression remaining completely relaxed despite the noise surrounding him.
To you, it sounded perfectly normal.
To your friend, however, it may as well have been the gates of hell opening.
“SEE?!” she shrieked, immediately taking several steps backwards. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?”
“It was literally just a groan.”
“No, it wasn't! He's possessed! There is a demon inside him, I swear!”
“Oh my god.”
“I am NOT staying here when he wakes up.”
And with that declaration, she spun around and bolted from the classroom at full speed.
Your other friend stared at her in utter disbelief, only for a moment, before running after her.
“HEY! I'm not carrying your stuff! Get back here!” She hurried out after the fleeing girl, leaving you alone in the suddenly quiet classroom.
“Ah- guys?!”
For a moment, you simply stood there.
Then your gaze returned to the sleeping boy.
Well.. Somebody had to wake him up.
You approached his desk properly this time and crouched down beside it, resting your fingertips lightly against the edge. Up close, you could finally see him properly, or at least as much as his unruly hair would allow. White strands fell across his face, hiding his eyes completely from view, whilst his arms remained folded beneath his head like a makeshift pillow.
For somebody allegedly cursed, possessed, and capable of manipulating fate itself, he looked remarkably normal.
Leaning forward slightly, you tried to peek through the curtain of hair.
“Um.. Nagi..?”
No answer.
You hesitated before stretching your arm out again. Your hand hovered uncertainly above his wrist, second-guessing yourself the entire time. Was it weird to touch him? Maybe. Was it weirder to leave him asleep in an empty classroom? …Probably not, but you'd already committed to this.
Carefully, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Nagi..?" you tried again, your voice quieter this time.
A sigh escaped him.
It was quiet and tired, the kind of sigh that sounded deeply inconvenienced by the mere act of existing and slowly, his fingers twitched beneath your hand.
Then, with all the enthusiasm of someone being dragged back from the dead, Nagi lifted his head.
At first it was only slightly, just enough for his face to emerge from the shelter of his folded arms. White strands of hair slipped away from his eyes as he blinked once, clearly still trapped somewhere between sleeping and waking.
But his gaze landed on you anyways. Though surprisingly enough, he wasn't angry, at least you didn't think he was.
He was just looking at you with almost no expression at all! No smile, no confusion, no irritation, nothing.. and somehow that felt infinitely worse.
It felt like you were being observed rather than looked at.
As if he were staring straight through you, as if he could somehow see every embarrassing thing you'd ever done.. Every failed test, every awkward conversation, every stupid decision, every secret and the silence certainly wasn't helping.
Most people would've said something, a greeting, a complaint, a sleepy "what?"
Nagi did none of those things.
He just stared.
And stared.
And stared.
The longer he remained silent, the more intimidating he became, you were beginning to understand how people came up with all those ridiculous rumours about him.
Now, if your friend told you this guy had crawled out of a cursed well seven days ago, you'd probably believe her this time.
He didn't even look human right now.
He looked like some supernatural entity that had been disturbed during a centuries-long hibernation. Which reminded you of your friend's words
He's possessed! there's a demon inside him!
Then, as if he had read your mind, he blinked.
Just once.
A slow, sleepy blink.
You snapped out of your thoughts, jumping backwards so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance and within seconds you'd scrambled to your feet.
You weren't scared, no..
Just...
Creating distance.
For safety, you know, just in case!
"Ah- s-sorry!" you blurted out, waving your hands frantically. "Sorry for waking you up!"
Nagi's gaze followed you and even now his expression remained completely blank, eyes half-lidded from sleep.
Gulp.
You swallowed hard.
"Y-you have chemistry next, right?" you continued, speaking far too quickly. "I just thought maybe you'd want to get there before all the seats were taken because it's the lab room and there aren't many chairs and everybody already left and-"
Oh no.
No.
You were doing it again! You were rambling! Badly..
The worst part was that you could hear yourself rambling.
You knew it was happening but you just couldn't stop.
"I mean, obviously sleeping is nice, I get that, but if there aren't any seats left then you'd have to stand and standing sounds way more annoying than waking up so I thought maybe it'd be helpful if I woke you up and-"
Please stop talking.
Why were you still talking?
Nagi still hadn't said a single word, he was only looking at you and that terrifyingly neutral expression somehow made everything worse.
At least if he looked annoyed you'd know what he was thinking but instead he just watched.
Silently, like he was waiting for you to finish embarrassing yourself.
Yup, this is the end! You had officially decided your fate. Not by curse or possession, but by sheer humiliation.
"...Oookay!"
You laughed nervously, terribly. One of those laughs people made when they were actively falling apart inside.
"And I'm going to leave you alone now! Sorry for bothering you! Hah! H-have a nice day!"
Without waiting for a response, you were out the door.
Gone. Vanished.
Meanwhile, Nagi remained exactly where he was.
For several moments after you'd disappeared from the classroom, Nagi simply stared at the doorway. The room had fallen quiet again, leaving only the distant sounds of students moving through the corridors and the faint hum of the air conditioner overhead. The peaceful atmosphere he'd been enjoying before being woken up had slowly returned, though his mind was still trying to catch up with whatever had just happened.
One moment he'd been asleep, and the next there had been a girl crouched beside his desk, speaking so quickly that he'd barely managed to process half of what she'd said. He vaguely remembered hearing something about chemistry, something about seats, and then an endless stream of apologies before she'd abruptly fled the classroom as though she'd committed some terrible crime.
Maybe he'd accidentally scared her.
That seemed like the most likely explanation.
His eyes had barely adjusted when he'd looked up at her, his vision still blurry with sleep and his eyelids heavy enough that keeping them open had required effort. He certainly hadn't meant to stare, but judging by the way she'd immediately retreated across the classroom, there was a good chance that was exactly how it had come across.
Not that there was much he could do about it now.
People avoiding him generally made life easier anyway. Nagi preferred quiet, preferred being left alone, and most importantly preferred not having to waste energy on things that felt unnecessary.
With a soft sigh, he pushed himself out of his chair and stretched. His chemistry lesson had probably already started filling up by now, meaning he should get moving before all the seats disappeared.
As he stepped around the side of his desk, however, something near the floor caught his attention.
A small object rested near one of the desk legs, partially hidden beneath the shadows. Nagi bent down and picked it up, expecting some random piece of stationery.
Instead, he found himself staring at a keychain.
The tiny figure swung lightly from the chain as he turned it over between his fingers, genuine surprise flickering across his face. This wasn't just any keychain, it was a character from bono bono, a niche manga, his favourite manga. Most students probably wouldn't even recognise the character, which made finding a keychain of it lying on a classroom floor strangely unexpected.
His gaze drifted briefly towards the doorway.
The answer was fairly obvious.
The keychain had most likely fallen from your bag while you'd been crouching beside his desk. There hadn't been anybody else near him all afternoon, and considering how quickly you'd left, it wasn't difficult to imagine you hadn't noticed it slipping loose.
For a moment, he simply stood there looking at it.
He could have just left it there, on the floor, that option would save him the effort of tracking you down himself.
Yet despite thinking through the alternatives, he made no move to put it down.
Maybe it was because it was Bono Bono.. or maybe it was because you had done something nice for him.
Well, being woken up wasn't exactly nice.
But you had only done it because you thought it would save him from a bigger inconvenience later.
A smaller hassle to avoid a larger hassle.
Nagi could appreciate that logic.
And honestly? For Nagi, losing things was troublesome.. Having to search everywhere for something you'd misplaced was a pain, he knew that better than most.
So maybe he'd return it.
Just this once.
You'd helped him avoid a hassle.
Maybe he could help you avoid one too.
notes: heavily inspired by the light novel lol, but ofcourse I changed the story. I will be making a part two of this.. eventually. I’ll see if I need to continue it after that and if people would want it to continue. Ty for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
in today's broadcast: your soulmate's scars appear on your body as well, hurting you all the same. bunny iglesias has carried the guilt of harming his destined partner ever since the first gash landed across his skin. "forgive me, amor," he pleads in his interview.
cw: fem!reader (described to be wearing a sundress), soulmate au, angst to fluff, feelings of inadequacy and guilt, mentions of child abuse on bunny's side, mostly in bunny pov (written before bunny's canon backstory is revealed)
he remembers hearing about soulmates from his grandmother. two people connected by an unexplainable force, tying them for life. for better or worse.
"take care of them," she said to him then. her eyes anxiously darting to the garage, where his grandpa was busy hammering away at some piece of furniture bunny was by now realizing didn't need it. "make sure they never have to experience a singular day of pain."
in hindsight, one could interpret it as a way of her telling him to keep himself safe as well, but at that point no one knew how his bond would manifest. not until a small scar appeared across his knee. one that looked like a nasty scrape healed badly. it was small, and he only knew it was there because it hurt as if he'd fallen himself. which he hadn't.
the first time it happened, bunny knew it wasn't deserved. a small boy, no older than five, he simply needed to pee. the summer festival he attended with his grandparents did not have any place where he could go, which forced his grandpa to take him home. the walk wasn't long, but significant enough to spark an anger in his grandfathers eyes.
a few beers in already, the belt buckle clinking behind the locked door, followed by a panicked child's cries.
the bruise would take a week or two to fade, the blackened skin fading in favor of the healing wound his grandmother cleaned wordlessly once she returned from that same festival. one which formed from the ornate metal buckle cutting clean across the smooth, unblemished skin.
that night was the first time he cried not for himself, but for the person now forced to bear a nasty scar across their thigh. he wondered, did they have to feel the cracking of the belt against skin, too? grandma told him not to hurt you, and yet, here he is.
"i'm so sorry," he cried quietly as to not alert anyone, "i didn't mean to."
the second time, he wasn't so sure. grandma handed him a plate of food to bring to grandpa, who was sat at the dining table with his brows furrowed already. a chill ran down the child's spine, this didn't bode well.
but all he had to do was deliver the plate, a task so menial it should've been done by now. and yet the shaking overtaking his knees, the spike in his blood pressure as he makes eye contact with the old man paired with a folded carpet corner was the perfect recipe for the plate cracking into pieces, food slowly staining said carpet and a child too terrified to look up from his spot on his knees.
a gasp can be heard from the open kitchen, and he can only imagine the terror overtaking his sweet grandma's features. one he imagines mirrors his own.
for a second it's quiet. too quiet.
breaking through the silence is the scraping of the chair against the floor, followed by heavy footsteps. his grandfathers shadow blankets his trembling form, and when he finally dares to look up even the slightest bit, his cheek is met with a sting. the impact so strong he's knocked onto his side as he gasps for air.
he's given no time before he's hauled up by the collar of his shirt. the back of a strong, calloused hand makes contact with his face again.
dropped back onto the floor, the carpet harsh against his knees, both him and his grandmother wait until the old man leaves. both of them flinching as his low, barely restrained voice demands another portion soon.
the door to the garage slams shut, and it's then that bunny realizes blood is dripping down his face and down onto his worn down sleep shirt.
locked away in his room that same evening, he can't help the flood of tears dripping onto the floor as he examines his face in the mirror. again, his grandmother cleaned him up, disinfecting his wounded face. it seems the ring on his grandpa's finger has done the most damage. a sideways cross shaped wound which will now haunt him, and his fated person, forever.
it has only gotten worse from that day on. minuscule mistakes punished by lifelong reminders.
ointments he begged his grandmother to find, to hopefully lessen the contrast of his disgustingly gashed skin. hoping that maybe they'd fade on your skin as well. nights spent crying, begging for forgiveness. on his knees before the moon, hoping you were out there and could somehow hear him.
fists clenched, eyes puffy as they look right onto the full moon his grandmother once jested was made of cheese to cheer him up however many years ago.
"i'm so sorry, amor," he sobs into the night. still young, yet forged into a tall, tough piece of man. a man devastated by his only task of never once hurting you having failed so miserably. so catastrophically.
the only piece of silver lining, the only thing that brought even a ghost of a smile to his face, was that at least you'd be recognizable. scars so telling he could tell you were the real deal with just a singular glance at your face.
which only brings him back to reality just as quickly. would you even want him? he knows you could feel the pain. do you hate him for doing this to you? have you cursed fate for it tying you to someone who harms your undeserving body?
he wouldn't be surprised if you rejected the bond upon meeting him. it's the only way to stop any more scars being shared. the pain shooting through his heart makes his brows pinch. he chuckles humorlessly, "i'm such a selfish bastard."
isn't it selfish of him to still want to have you, even when he's put you through so much? you deserve a soulmate who is actually capable of protecting you. one who can prevent even a singular hair from dropping off of your head.
but deep inside, he longs for the connection only a soulmate can provide. he has not met you, and yet he knows you'll be lovely. he'll beg on his knees if necessary. the universe has made the mistake of dooming you with him, and he'll do all he can to alleviate the torment he's put you through so far.
a black surgical mask covers his face, together with a matching cap. his body covered in long, airy sleeves, legs clad in a pair of baggy summer pants as to hide his woeful state as he goes out to grab a bite of food for both him and his grandma. the latter who's been doing much better since that old fool died not too long ago.
children run and weave their way between people on the busy streets, popsicles in hand to combat the heat and sate their needs for sweetness. barely any of them are paying attention to where they're going, and who they're bumping against.
their carelessness is something he notices when his knee is knocked right against a wooden crate from a veggie vendor, thrown off balance by one of the aforementioned kids running into his back. the wood cuts uncomfortably against the already scarred skin. a quick and unfortunate situation he'd usually write off, had it not been for a perfectly timed "ow!" he heard not too far off.
his head turns every possible way, trying to locate the origin. and he does.
the moment his eyes land on you, his whole world stops. the sun illuminating your features, body bathed in a golden glow which somehow makes your blemished skin look akin to a tigress. as a sense of calm initially washes over him, muscles relaxing, body and mind briefly devoid of any pain.
but it's when his eyes land on the one thing truly separating you from your surroundings, a cross-shaped scar across your face that he feels lightheaded. it's no coincidence your appearance has made such an impact.
luckily most of his face is obstructed by the mask and shadowed by his cap, making it near-impossible for the people around him to see the glossiness coating his eyes. rooted in his place, eyes darting over your body where you're sat at the terrace of some cafe he's seen in passing a few times.
he considers walking up to you, but something holds him back. the ugly, overwhelming guilt of knowing what the cause is behind the markings on your angelic face and the rest of your body. the pain and confusion for why this is being done to you must've been terrifying to experience.
now stuck between a rock and a hard place, does he go up to you and apologize? it could give you the opportunity to denounce him, to free yourself from his pitiful existence.
he's been so convinced he can earn you, but when actually faced with the opportunity, his knees go weak.
a wave of determination passes over him. he robbed you of a proper soulmate, one that was deserving of you. you who shared your scar with him once and learned your lesson. unlike him. the least he can do is give you a way out.
knee bleeding, he takes a deep breath before he consciously steps between the large crowd of people. he's bumping against someone here and there, much like the children who've unknowingly brought two destined people a chance to finally unite.
an older lady is with you, one looking similar enough for him to conclude must be your mom. will she be angry with him, too? will she detest him for hurting her daughter? maybe she'll force you to break the bond, unwilling to give you away to someone as careless as him.
his hand is shaky as he reaches up to tap your scarred shoulder. your expression confused, much like your mom's. unsurprising, given that his face is mostly covered.
"can i help you-?" your voice is like a balm to his frayed nerves, but you trail off once his other hand, just as if not more, shakily undoes one of the ties to his mask. with it now hanging off only one ear, the entirety of his own facial marring is visible to you. he can only brace himself for what you might do next.
you jump up from your chair, eyes wide as you examine the stranger's face. your heart nearly beats out of your chest, barely registering your mother's choked breath.
still in disbelief, you take his hands into yours. your touch feather-light as you examine the scars on your and his fingers. ones that match just like the one on your faces.
breath catching in your throat, your gaze snaps back to his glossy one. for a moment it does not matter that you're in public, in the middle of a very crowded terrace.
voice cracking, much like his heart, "it's you," you muster.
he nods, lips pursing to prevent himself from crying. his hands squeeze yours gently, unconsciously pulling you closer.
you glance back at your mom, "it's him," you whisper to her. something she barely manages to hear over the loud surroundings. she still nods, gathering her stuff as she motions for you two to go with her.
bunny eyes you in confusion, you're leaving already? this is it? but he hasn't managed to say anything yet-
"come with me," you encourage him, tugging on his hands. your mom left some bills on the table, walking ahead.
he follows you as if he's under a spell, and he kind of is. your touch is electrifying, but calming all the same. he almost trips a few times, too focused on examining every little bit of you.
hands tightly clasped in yours, you look up at him with a bright smile, "what's your name?"
bunny's mouth opens, but all coherent answers filter out of his mind. why are you smiling at him? why are you acting as if you're excited to meet him?
his hesitation causes your brows to furrow in concern. his body heat providing a comfort even amidst the heat of the day as you you pull him just a bit closer.
"it's okay, i'm also emotional. this is quite a big deal," you assure him, giving him your name in hopes it'll ease his nerves.
your name tastes so sweet on his tongue as he repeats it back to you, tone filled with such reverence it sparks a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your belly. "beautiful," he whispers, his gaze darting over every square millimeter of your face.
warmth creeps up your neck and face. your pointer nail a nice distraction to bite on so you don't squeal like some weirdo.
"bunny," he then whispers, "you can call me bunny."
"huh? is that an actual name-?"
"it'll do," he squeezes your hand, a ghost of a smile passing over his handsome features.
it's then that you realize how breathtaking he is. scars and all, they only add to his boyishly rugged look. something you didn't know you were that into until him.
your home is mere minutes away, excitement sending abuzz through your body. a stark contrast to his tightly wound muscles. "i can't wait to introduce you to my family! i didn't expect to meet you at all today so i hope it's okay my mom went ahead. she's probably preparing something for us to snack on while we get to know each other-"
your rambling is beyond endearing, and yet he can't help the heaviness on his chest from rendering him breathless. the guilt was unmistakable on his face to anyone else. except the overjoyed you, who's still yapping on and on about how happy your family will be upon hearing about you two meeting.
he desperately tried to hold in his tears which were threatening to spill over his reddened cheeks. lips pursing, the crushing weight of his wrong-doings unbearable upon his shoulders.
the prolonged silence finally catches your attention as you're about to inform him that you've arrived at your house, and you stop in your tracks right away. eyes wide and panicked, voice rushed, "bunny? oh dear, are you okay?"
squeezing his eyes shut, desperately trying to will away his tears, he nods. a strained sigh, "yeah," is all you get in response.
no less worried, you usher him inside, tugging him into your room for some privacy which seems like it was much needed because the click of your door shutting is all it takes for the floodgates to break open.
in seconds he's on his knees in front of you, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face and onto your floor. his hands balled into fists, knuckles white as he sobbed, a flurry of emotions fighting through his tone.
"why? why are you this happy!?" he coughs through his sobs, "look at yourself! i ruined you!"
the closed door likely doesn't do much to muffle the anguish he's finally letting be seen, heard.
mouth agape, tears lining your own lash line as your very own soulmate who you thought you could celebrate this joyous occasion with, is crumbling before you.
"r-ruined me?" your voice cracks, "what do you mean?"
his hands gently reach out to trace the distorted lines along your ankles and calves. they're shaking immensely, but so is his entire body. overcome with yet another wave of emotion he curls in on himself once his finger makes contact with the scar tissue.
unable to explain himself any further, his tongue tied into knot after knot. as if his limbs were made of lead, he makes the arduous effort to wrap his hand around the back of your knee, lifting his body up just enough to lean his forehead against your thigh.
red irises framed by the bloodshot whites of his eyes stare at you with a heartstopping amount of pain. brows pinched, bottom lip trembling.
"i'm so sorry," he creaks, "i am so sorry, amor."
finally, saying it to your face felt a whole lot better than pretending you could hear him through the moon.
what he did not expect (which was honestly even making it this far) is that you'd drop to your knees right next to him. your arms wrap around him in a hug comparable to a warm blanket on a cold winter's night.
the tightness in his body ebbs away with each second he spends with his face buried in your shoulder. his own getting just as wet from your tears, which you couldn't hold back either.
"don't be sorry," he hears you whimper, "don't you dare be sorry for what you've gone through."
that gives him pause. he stiffens in your hold, before he lifts his head to get a look at your puffy face. still just as stunning, he notes.
"what do you mean?" he sniffles, tears unstoppable.
"did you do all this to yourself?" you ask, hand reaching up to trace the horizontal line across his nose. "any of it?"
he shakes his head, reveling in your comforting touch.
"then what are you sorry for?" you chuckle through your cries, "i'm the one who's sorry. sorry for not finding you sooner, and for not being there for you when you needed it most."
your words send a whole different crash of emotions through him. disbelief, shock, confusion, even more guilt at you feeling guilty. he dives in for yet another hug, both of your sobs echoing through your room.
"i don't deserve you," he whispers, muscled arms squeezing you as close to him as possible.
your hold tightens to match his, "the universe seems to think otherwise."
a/n: still learning how to write angst but but but yeah also in case u were wondering the scars appear as healed on the other person, basically like a preview of what the inflicted wound will heal like
sae itoshi x fem! reader, a sae character study that went awry. Sae reflects on both of your lives
Sae looks at your closet door and sighs.
It's hard not to feel out of place at a given time and place in your life, but he'd never expected said time and place to be as a fully grown and functioning adult, in his own home.
The closet door is covered in photos and random trinkets you'd stuck onto it. When you first moved in, you'd insisted on personalizing your side of things, so as to "not get confused."
"I don't want to go looking for things in here and end up making contact with one of your dirty boxers," you had declared. Sae had grunted that he was hygienic, and that the chance of one of his dirty boxers making it back into the closet— yours or his— was close to zero, but you wouldn't hear it.
"You're a guy," you had sniffed. "Your hygienic is my unhygienic. Besides, there is no zero risk."
And with this little nugget of wisdom, you had left the room, leaving Sae to contemplate the newly decorated closet door on his own.
The photos are filled with happy, bright faces, some from your high school graduation, some from your time at college, and others from family. Cuomo, your brown border collie, makes the most frequent appearances, and a few of your college's flags and banners are fixed on the corners of the door ("Go Bulldogs!").
When a pro athlete gets scouted at a young age, the sentiment of competition and the constantly tense environment is inevitable. That's when isolation strikes, like a viper heading for its prey— merciless and so very hungry. Isolation doesn't make any sound, that’s what makes it so dangerous. It slips through the cracks, and before you know it, it consumes your life, and in turn, you let the sport consume you as a way to escape it. Sae's never sat on his feelings long enough to reflect on them or do something about them. They only ever sneak up on him at random, rare times.
Such as when he looks at his girlfriend's single closet door that somehow contains more life than he's ever experienced. He tries not to let the dormant green-eyed monster inside him take over, but there are times where Sae wishes he could trade his life for one more like yours. School, friends, college, family. You've done a great job acclimating him to your lifestyle and your people, but there are times, late at night, where he wishes he could've been introduced to something like this much earlier. Maybe then things would've been different. For him, sure, but for Rin, too.
You spread your palm on the back of his neck from behind, and let your fingers travel all the way to his shoulders. You thumb at the side of his neck juncture.
"You okay there?"
"Yeah," he replies after a minute, before slightly turning, placing a kiss on your temple. "All good."
As long as you're there, he can have that life. You are that life. His life.
Synopsis: Everyone at Hakuho has their own theory about Nagi Seishiro. Some think he’s cursed others think he’s lucky, but nobody really knows him. So when you and your friends find him sleeping through yet another class, you decide to wake him up. It’s not like curses are real anyways… right?
Nagi Seishiro was a strange one, or at least, that's what everyone said.
But really, all he'd ever wanted was a calm, peaceful life. A life where nobody bothered him, and he didn't have to bother with anyone else. A life free of trouble and effort. Or, as he would put it, a life without any "hassles."
He wanted to relax. To take things easy. To drift through life without wasting energy on things he didn't care about.
If he could choose his perfect future, it would be simple: sleeping and playing video games. That was all he liked doing, and more importantly, it was the only thing that didn't bore him.
Studying? Boring.
Thinking about the future? What a hassle.
Why waste time worrying about what comes later when he could just enjoy the present? Why put effort into something that wasn't happening yet? He didn't see the point.
So he didn't.
In fact, he avoided putting effort into anything he considered unnecessary.
When people tried talking to him, he'd simply walk away, or continue gaming as if they weren't there.
When students chased after him, begging him to join their sports clubs because of his impressive height, he'd do the same thing.
Ignore them.
So why would today be any different?
Especially when his homeroom teacher was giving them another lecture about the future. About seizing opportunities, joining clubs, participating in activities, working hard, and giving everything one hundred percent.
Nagi couldn't care less.
Now that he'd earned the reputation of Hakuhou's unmotivated weirdo, things had become much easier.
Nobody tried recruiting him anymore, nobody challenged him, nobody went out of their way to talk to him, no teasing and no conversations.
It was nice..
Quiet, peaceful even.
Putting no effort into life had become even easier now that there was nobody left to ignore. After all, why should he bother doing anything when he could simply be...
Sleeping.
-
“Hey, you guys think we should wake Nagi-kun up?”
You were just about to leave the classroom alongside your two friends when one of them suddenly stopped in her tracks. The next lesson was being held in the chemistry room, meaning everyone needed to get moving unless they wanted to be late, but there was still one student occupying the classroom.
Nagi Seishiro.
Fast asleep at his desk.
You glanced over at him. His head rested comfortably on his folded arms, messy white hair spilling over his face and obscuring most of his features from view. As far as you could remember, he'd spent the entirety of the previous lesson sleeping.
Actually, now that you thought about it, there was a decent chance he'd been asleep during the lesson before that as well.
Slowly, you found yourself wandering closer to his desk, intending to wake him up before the teacher from the next class found him still passed out in an empty room.
Before you could get very far, however, your gyaru styled friend grabbed your arm with surprising force.
“Noo! You can't!” she exclaimed, staring at you as though you'd just announced your intention to jump off the school roof. “If you talk to Nagi Seishiro you'll be cursed! You'll get bad luck just from hearing his voice!”
You paused and looked at her, trying to determine whether she was joking. Judging by the genuinely alarmed expression on her face, she unfortunately wasn't.
“My friend talked to him once,” she continued, lowering her voice into a dramatic whisper whilst casting a suspicious glance towards the sleeping boy, “and the very next day her boyfriend dumped her! I'm telling you, he's got this weird negative energy gathering around him all the time. He's the spawn of the devil!”
How strange.
Sure, Nagi was strange too. Everybody knew that much. He barely spoke, slept through classes whenever he could get away with it and always looked as though he'd rather be literally anywhere else. Still, you'd never understood why people treated him like some kind of supernatural phenomenon.
As far as you were concerned, he was just quiet and sleepy.
Maybe a little antisocial.
But nothing more than that!
“Well, that won't happen to me since I don't even have a boyfriend,” you replied dryly, earning a groan from your friend.
Before she could argue back, your other friend suddenly chimed in.
“I don't think he's cursed,” she said thoughtfully. “I've actually heard quite the opposite.”
“The opposite?” the gyaru repeated incredulously.
“Yeah. Apparently you'll be blessed if you talk to him~” A grin spread across her face. “I heard some girl spoke to Nagi-kun and ended up getting together with this really hot guy afterwards. He's basically a human four-leaf clover.”
You couldn't help smiling at that, the stories people came up with about him were honestly ridiculous.
Your eyes drifted back towards the sleeping boy. Even now, completely unconscious to the conversation happening around him, he looked perfectly peaceful. His breathing was slow and steady, and with his face partially hidden by his arms and hair, there was something oddly harmless about him.
“I mean, look at him,” you said, taking another step closer. “He looks kind of cute when he's sleeping. Just... peaceful, I guess. Honestly, how could he-”
“Y/N! Are you serious?”
You nearly jumped as your gyaru friend seized both of your shoulders.
“Evil works in mysterious ways,” she insisted with complete sincerity. “The fact he looks sweet is exactly how he deceives people!”
She immediately rounded on your other friend.
“And that girl didn't get lucky, she got tricked! ‘Hot’ guy? Do you know what else is hot?”
“Don't say it.”
“Hell!” she declared dramatically. “I'm telling you, this weirdo is casting spells on all of us.”
You exchanged an amused look with your other friend, both of you trying, and failing, not to laugh. Seriously, where did she even come up with this stuff?
“Do you actually believe any of that?” you began.
Before she could answer, a low groan suddenly interrupted the conversation.
All three of you froze.
The sound had come from Nagi.
It was quiet and muffled by his arms, little more than a sleepy complaint as he shifted slightly in his chair. One of his hands twitched before going still again, his expression remaining completely relaxed despite the noise surrounding him.
To you, it sounded perfectly normal.
To your friend, however, it may as well have been the gates of hell opening.
“SEE?!” she shrieked, immediately taking several steps backwards. “DID YOU HEAR THAT?”
“It was literally just a groan.”
“No, it wasn't! He's possessed! There is a demon inside him, I swear!”
“Oh my god.”
“I am NOT staying here when he wakes up.”
And with that declaration, she spun around and bolted from the classroom at full speed.
Your other friend stared at her in utter disbelief, only for a moment, before running after her.
“HEY! I'm not carrying your stuff! Get back here!” She hurried out after the fleeing girl, leaving you alone in the suddenly quiet classroom.
“Ah- guys?!”
For a moment, you simply stood there.
Then your gaze returned to the sleeping boy.
Well.. Somebody had to wake him up.
You approached his desk properly this time and crouched down beside it, resting your fingertips lightly against the edge. Up close, you could finally see him properly, or at least as much as his unruly hair would allow. White strands fell across his face, hiding his eyes completely from view, whilst his arms remained folded beneath his head like a makeshift pillow.
For somebody allegedly cursed, possessed, and capable of manipulating fate itself, he looked remarkably normal.
Leaning forward slightly, you tried to peek through the curtain of hair.
“Um.. Nagi..?”
No answer.
You hesitated before stretching your arm out again. Your hand hovered uncertainly above his wrist, second-guessing yourself the entire time. Was it weird to touch him? Maybe. Was it weirder to leave him asleep in an empty classroom? …Probably not, but you'd already committed to this.
Carefully, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Nagi..?" you tried again, your voice quieter this time.
A sigh escaped him.
It was quiet and tired, the kind of sigh that sounded deeply inconvenienced by the mere act of existing and slowly, his fingers twitched beneath your hand.
Then, with all the enthusiasm of someone being dragged back from the dead, Nagi lifted his head.
At first it was only slightly, just enough for his face to emerge from the shelter of his folded arms. White strands of hair slipped away from his eyes as he blinked once, clearly still trapped somewhere between sleeping and waking.
But his gaze landed on you anyways. Though surprisingly enough, he wasn't angry, at least you didn't think he was.
He was just looking at you with almost no expression at all! No smile, no confusion, no irritation, nothing.. and somehow that felt infinitely worse.
It felt like you were being observed rather than looked at.
As if he were staring straight through you, as if he could somehow see every embarrassing thing you'd ever done.. Every failed test, every awkward conversation, every stupid decision, every secret and the silence certainly wasn't helping.
Most people would've said something, a greeting, a complaint, a sleepy "what?"
Nagi did none of those things.
He just stared.
And stared.
And stared.
The longer he remained silent, the more intimidating he became, you were beginning to understand how people came up with all those ridiculous rumours about him.
Now, if your friend told you this guy had crawled out of a cursed well seven days ago, you'd probably believe her this time.
He didn't even look human right now.
He looked like some supernatural entity that had been disturbed during a centuries-long hibernation. Which reminded you of your friend's words
He's possessed! there's a demon inside him!
Then, as if he had read your mind, he blinked.
Just once.
A slow, sleepy blink.
You snapped out of your thoughts, jumping backwards so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance and within seconds you'd scrambled to your feet.
You weren't scared, no..
Just...
Creating distance.
For safety, you know, just in case!
"Ah- s-sorry!" you blurted out, waving your hands frantically. "Sorry for waking you up!"
Nagi's gaze followed you and even now his expression remained completely blank, eyes half-lidded from sleep.
Gulp.
You swallowed hard.
"Y-you have chemistry next, right?" you continued, speaking far too quickly. "I just thought maybe you'd want to get there before all the seats were taken because it's the lab room and there aren't many chairs and everybody already left and-"
Oh no.
No.
You were doing it again! You were rambling! Badly..
The worst part was that you could hear yourself rambling.
You knew it was happening but you just couldn't stop.
"I mean, obviously sleeping is nice, I get that, but if there aren't any seats left then you'd have to stand and standing sounds way more annoying than waking up so I thought maybe it'd be helpful if I woke you up and-"
Please stop talking.
Why were you still talking?
Nagi still hadn't said a single word, he was only looking at you and that terrifyingly neutral expression somehow made everything worse.
At least if he looked annoyed you'd know what he was thinking but instead he just watched.
Silently, like he was waiting for you to finish embarrassing yourself.
Yup, this is the end! You had officially decided your fate. Not by curse or possession, but by sheer humiliation.
"...Oookay!"
You laughed nervously, terribly. One of those laughs people made when they were actively falling apart inside.
"And I'm going to leave you alone now! Sorry for bothering you! Hah! H-have a nice day!"
Without waiting for a response, you were out the door.
Gone. Vanished.
Meanwhile, Nagi remained exactly where he was.
For several moments after you'd disappeared from the classroom, Nagi simply stared at the doorway. The room had fallen quiet again, leaving only the distant sounds of students moving through the corridors and the faint hum of the air conditioner overhead. The peaceful atmosphere he'd been enjoying before being woken up had slowly returned, though his mind was still trying to catch up with whatever had just happened.
One moment he'd been asleep, and the next there had been a girl crouched beside his desk, speaking so quickly that he'd barely managed to process half of what she'd said. He vaguely remembered hearing something about chemistry, something about seats, and then an endless stream of apologies before she'd abruptly fled the classroom as though she'd committed some terrible crime.
Maybe he'd accidentally scared her.
That seemed like the most likely explanation.
His eyes had barely adjusted when he'd looked up at her, his vision still blurry with sleep and his eyelids heavy enough that keeping them open had required effort. He certainly hadn't meant to stare, but judging by the way she'd immediately retreated across the classroom, there was a good chance that was exactly how it had come across.
Not that there was much he could do about it now.
People avoiding him generally made life easier anyway. Nagi preferred quiet, preferred being left alone, and most importantly preferred not having to waste energy on things that felt unnecessary.
With a soft sigh, he pushed himself out of his chair and stretched. His chemistry lesson had probably already started filling up by now, meaning he should get moving before all the seats disappeared.
As he stepped around the side of his desk, however, something near the floor caught his attention.
A small object rested near one of the desk legs, partially hidden beneath the shadows. Nagi bent down and picked it up, expecting some random piece of stationery.
Instead, he found himself staring at a keychain.
The tiny figure swung lightly from the chain as he turned it over between his fingers, genuine surprise flickering across his face. This wasn't just any keychain, it was a character from bono bono, a niche manga, his favourite manga. Most students probably wouldn't even recognise the character, which made finding a keychain of it lying on a classroom floor strangely unexpected.
His gaze drifted briefly towards the doorway.
The answer was fairly obvious.
The keychain had most likely fallen from your bag while you'd been crouching beside his desk. There hadn't been anybody else near him all afternoon, and considering how quickly you'd left, it wasn't difficult to imagine you hadn't noticed it slipping loose.
For a moment, he simply stood there looking at it.
He could have just left it there, on the floor, that option would save him the effort of tracking you down himself.
Yet despite thinking through the alternatives, he made no move to put it down.
Maybe it was because it was Bono Bono.. or maybe it was because you had done something nice for him.
Well, being woken up wasn't exactly nice.
But you had only done it because you thought it would save him from a bigger inconvenience later.
A smaller hassle to avoid a larger hassle.
Nagi could appreciate that logic.
And honestly? For Nagi, losing things was troublesome.. Having to search everywhere for something you'd misplaced was a pain, he knew that better than most.
So maybe he'd return it.
Just this once.
You'd helped him avoid a hassle.
Maybe he could help you avoid one too.
notes: heavily inspired by the light novel lol, but ofcourse I changed the story. I will be making a part two of this.. eventually. I’ll see if I need to continue it after that and if people would want it to continue. Ty for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
synopsis: you wake up one day to find that your pet bunny has turned into a human being. the worst part? he still thinks he's the cute furball he once was and demands to be treated as such.
contents and warnings: very suggestive, bunny is spoiled rotten, animal shifter bunny, animalistic bunny, cute, fluff and comedy, ts gotta be some furry bs, jealous bunny, possessive bunny, freaky bunny... mentions of dick and hard ons, lots of kissing and bunny is just so fucking weird in this... ew i was literally gagging half of the time, also reader has an ex, elusions to sex, i say maybe 17+? Idek man.
wc: 4.4k
a/n: lowkirkueinely might be the weirdest shit ive ever written, but also the freakiesr? idk the hugo hawk tuah is high up there, UGHH I WAS CONSIDERING WRITING SMUT FOR THIS BUT I GOT SO EMBARRASED AND I LWK HAD ENOUGH OF WRITING FOR IT, so maybe if i grow some balls i'll do a part two... happy reading.... ALSO NOT PROOF READ SO IM SORRY
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bllk! masterlist
You're not exactly sure what's going on, whether you're in some kind of simulation or if this is genuinely your reality— but one thing's for certain, something isn't quite right.
Well, it's a little more that just something, though you don't dwell on the details for long.
Not when there's a huge man — body thick with muscles and adorned with scars — sprawled all over you.
He's naked, you note with wide and unblinking eyes.
It's painfully hard not to notice that fact.
No clothes, no underwear— no nothing, just straight butt-fucking-naked, in his birthday suit if you will. Looking awfully comfortable on top of you, with his large arms wrapped tight around your waist, legs tangled around yours, and face nuzzled shamelessly in your chest.
The realisation has your body still.
Your limbs growing taut as you finally grasped a hold of the horrifying situation.
There's— There's a strange man…!
And he's naked, sleeping in your house, on your bed, in the place of your cute pet bunny like this is completely fine, like this is common occurrence, like everything is normal— when it clearly fucking wasn't!
The only appropriate response is to scream— and you do just that.
The noise of your terror is shrill.
Piercing.
Ear-splitting— straight out of an r-rated horror film.
You kick and thrash and flail all at once, sight growing blurry with adrenaline as your fear quickly became your strength. And whilst you're under the pitiful conception that your efforts have an effect, to the unknown man, your abrupt movements are nothing more than an inconvenience.
You're squirming comes to a short pause when he, the strange man with pale hair — a shade that bares an awful resemblance to your pet's fur — makes a noise of disapproval.
It's a deep rumble, travelling through your chest and down your spine. A warning sign that you do not heed to, something you quickly come to regret when your actions pull an averse reaction out of him. His grip around your waist tightened instantly, the act immobilising your writhing figure which then urged him to snuggle closer into your neck.
He does it so effortlessly, so readily, as if it were no more than common practice, a behaviour that was so frighteningly familiar, it has your heart sink with disbelief.
Just who the hell was he, acting like this was nothing out of ordinary?
"G-Get, get off of me!"
The man let out another low grunt when you tried to pull away from him again, his annoyance accompanied with a short huff, one that sent a bout of unease to your stomach.
It was like playing a one-sided game of tug of war, you trying to escape his vice-like clutch whilst he merely groaned with displeasure and squeezed you near half to death.
Fuck, if the weight of him on top of you was this suffocating, you didn't even wanna imagine what kind of state your pet bunny would've been in considering he'd been peacefully sleeping on top of you.
Most likely bull-dozed under this hunk of a man.
"Ugh— you're crushing- my bunny—!"
You managed to get out with a heavy wheeze, still trying to put some much needed distance between the two of you. Your endeavours, for the very first time this morning, finally have some kind of effect on him. Albeit a very small one.
He perks up at your words, his earlier fatigue now nowhere to be found as he peered down at your twisting features through heavy-lidded eyes. A quaint shade of crimson, resembling rubies with their dull glimmer, greeted you in their full glory.
You gasped, mouth gaping as their familiarity dawned upon you.
There's no way—!
Just because he has hair and eyes that were terribly similar to your pet bunny, and a unique mannerism that you could recognise anywhere, just because of that— there's just no way… right?
You were very clearly jumping to conclusions!
"Bunny…?" Your voice trembled against yourself, lips wobbling as tears gathered in your lash line against your will. "My… my cute Bun-Bun..?"
It was almost comical how his nose twitched at the endearment, you could practically see flowers blooming around him as he flopped his head back down onto you, his temple pressing close to your lips as if waiting for something— something you only ever did with your furball…
He wanted you to coddle him with morning kisses and head scratches…!
But you couldn't do that— there was absolutely no way you could do that! This was a man!
Well, a hot man, but a man nonetheless!
Not your cute bunny!
There was a big difference between kissing your pet as opposed to kissing a whole ass man! You weren't exactly ready to cross that line yet!
And the longer you spent contemplating all this, the larger the risk of angering your spoiled bunny grew. And an angered bunny was not what you needed right now, not when you had only just replaced your previously chewed charger.
You needed to make a decision, and you needed to make it quick.
Ugh!
Eyes scrunching shut with fluster, you gathered your courage, lips puckering up as they readied themselves to plant a short but sweet peck on his pale hair. What you didn't account for, however, was how short his fuse actually was.
So imagine your surprise, when your lips didn't meet the soft tress of hair like you'd mentally prepared for, but instead, they were greeted with another pair of soft lips.
To your bunny's standard, you had taken far too long to shower him in your morning affections. And as a result, his frustrations grew, which had led him to face you with arguably the cutest expression of fury.
And, well, it didn't take a full blown genius to put two and two together— you'd crashed straight into his lips!
"Mmph—!"
Your heart nearly clawed its way out of your throat when you felt his tongue push past your lips. This, was not something you ever did with your bunny!
His head tilted to the side, teeth clashing and nose pressing against yours as he reached deeper into your wet cavern, chasing after something you couldn't quite put a name to.
A soft mewl left you in tandem, the noise of your pleasure swallowed by the greedy man on top of you. You nearly let yourself fall victim to your desires, those of which have been fuelling with frustration after your recent break up, only to snap out of it when you felt something hard press against your inner thighs.
He— he's hard!
Your ears flushed with embarrassment at the implication of his little — or big — situation, the realisation that he was still very naked striking you once more. And haunted with what you'd just done, your vigour grew. Your hands freed themselves from his now loosened confines, before they reached over to his broad shoulders and pushed.
"Ngh-!"
Your lips parted with effort, the only evidence of your indulgence visible in the thin strand of saliva that lewdly connected the two of you together.
"Put some…" You heaved, cheeks flushing as you tried to collect your breath that was cruelly stolen from you by the now hovering and guilty man. Your gaze wandered despite yourself, taking in his sculpted muscles that were littered with familiar scars identical to the ones your bunny had.
He really is.. him.
Your scrutiny was cut short when he tried to reach back down to you, his erection becoming very visible under your curious stare.
"Kyaa! Put some clothes on!"
There was no way this hot man was your pet bunny!
You couldn't be more wrong.
This man, six feet and three inches of pure muscle, was definitely your pet bunny.
There was no mistaking it.
Just because he now towered over you with his ridiculously attractive form, it didn't change that fact.
And if you refused to acknowledge it, then you were simply in denial.
Because there was nothing quite as spoiled as your pet bunny. You knew that, your friends knew that, God— even your fucking mailman knew that. But this man, Bunny — as you've resolved to call him considering it was the only thing that seemed to catch his attention — came very close. In fact, it wouldn't be a stretch to say he was more spoiled than your little fur-ball.
For one, you tried to put his very naked self into some clothes, namely your ex's clothing given that they were the closest thing to fitting him. But Bunny took one small, barely conspicuous sniff at the garments, and his face grew contorted with displeasure. He then turned away from you, stomped his feet like a child throwing a hissy fit, and refused to put them on.
You damn near lost your mind, did that mean you had to sacrifice your clothes in the name of shame and modesty?
It did.
Since he harshly rejected your ex's clothes, you had no choice but to resort to yours. And it would've been easy to just deal with loose or teared clothes, but Bunny still hadn't forgiven you for having the nerve to offer him that other man's clothes.
You had to coddle him, run your hands through his hair and across his back with ardent affections, cup his puffed out cheeks and shower him with countless wet kisses whilst calling him all sorts of sweet but stupid endearments just to get him to look at you!
You've never regretted spoiling your Bunny more than now, because now it meant he had standards reaching the skies.
Maybe you should've heeded to you ex's words, he had always mentioned how you were spoiling the animal too much. At that time, you thought he'd been jealous of the furball receiving your love, but maybe, he was looking out for me..?
No, that would just be ridiculous.
Though, that ridiculous thought didn't seem so ridiculous now, did it?
And so, the only possible solution you could come up with to deal with his spoiled nature was to… wean him off of your affections…
Oh, it was so stupid. But you were truly under the impression that it would work. You really were.
Imagine your surprise, or lack thereof, when that went terribly wrong.
Bunny was absolutely furious to receive your silence. No longer having you in the palm of his hand to snuggle into as he leeched onto your warmth was hell.
So he did what he always did, throw a temper tantrum to have you pamper him once more. If you wanted to suddenly start ignoring him, then he would make it so that you couldn't.
Yeah, sure, you payed no mind to chewed cables and torn furniture, but what if he walked around you naked?
You couldn't possibly ignore that, could you?
And thus, Bunny refused to wear any clothes around you, even if they were yours. Choosing to roam around your home in absolutely nothing, something you could not turn a blind eye to.
His plan worked, like always.
Left with no choice, you were reduced to a pathetic, bumbling mess.
Heeding to every one of his wishes, as outrageous as each may be, became your national sport. And Bunny, realising the lengths of his special privileges, took it up a notch.
Whenever you locked yourself in the bathroom for some much needed privacy, he was hot on your tail. Knocking, scratching and thumping on the door for entry — the threat of his destruction loomed, and weak to your will, you had no choice but to let him in.
You couldn't shower in peace, no, you couldn't even shower at all!
How the hell were you supposed to? When he just stood there, watching you with dull and hazy eyes, his gaze tracking every one of your movements with rapt intrigue.
It was impossible!
So you just awkwardly stood there too, under the shower head, tap running, and still in your clothes — because what did it matter if you were still dressed when he did the undressing for you with his bedroom eyes?
No seriously, what else were you supposed to fucking do?
Strip in front of the insanely attractive man and just shower as if he wasn't quite literally sporting a fucking hard-on?!
Maybe if he was still your pet bunny you would've payed it no mind — partly because you'd already done that before — but you couldn't now!
And your sudden aversion made no sense to him.
Because Bunny had already seen you naked before, he'd seen it all. When he was still a fur ball with a pass to roam freely wherever he wished. It was not out of ordinary for him to just watch you bathe yourself, you'd let him do it plenty of times.
Hell, you'd even encouraged it!
Going as far bringing him a chair where he could comfortably lay on so the both of you could spend 'quality time' together.
So what the hell was with your reluctance now?
He just couldn't bring himself to understand, and worst of all, he couldn't fucking tolerate it.
And so, like he did to anything that displeased him, Bunny decided to tackle the root of the problem.
He'd join you, or rather, he'd corner you in the shower or tower over you in the tub, whichever you decided to choose, body flush against yours and face nuzzled into your proximity as he then urged you to groom him clean — a trait you later found bunnies did to assert their dominance.
Though ignorant to that fact beforehand, you didn't think much of it and cleaned him thoroughly. Fingers lost in the tress of his pale hair, you'd begin by massaging his roots with intense focus, before letting them slip low and wander about with a curious mind of their own. You'd mindlessly trace his deep scars, the ones all over him, on his arms, his chest and his face with the ghost of a feather.
Bunny's expression was always fixed into one of pure bliss when under your hands' ministrations, and the sight pulled on your heartstrings more than you liked to admit. Even though he was now a man, he still behaved much like he did when he was your pet.
It was so cute, until he then tugged at your clothes like it was now your turn. You'd fought back, obviously, gallant and valiant as you tried desperately to keep them on, but your endeavours were for nought, your efforts in vain. For the man, using either his teeth or monstrous strength, teared them off of you with unbecoming ease.
You'd learnt pretty quickly from then on that there was no use in fighting him, it was just easier to let him get his way — your growing pile of destroyed belongings a rather telling tale.
And much to your chagrin or relief, you weren't sure which of the two, he didn't help wash you up at all — that would be a humiliating sign of his submission towards you — rather, he settled into your warmth. Choosing to tuck his nose snug into your jugular and inhale the scent of you, something he couldn't get quite enough of.
With his weight toppled over you, no signs of him leaving discernible, you were left with no choice but to indulge in his wishes. Either running your fingers through his hair like before or over the ridges of his thick muscles as he hummed with delight.
The shared moment was strangely peaceful, but the instant you slowed down or showed any signs of stopping, he'd whine and huff and bite at your skin, refusing to latch off until you resumed your affections or placated him with endless kisses. Left with no choice but to comply, you heeded to every one of his demands as audacious as they may be.
And when he finally did unlatch from you, reluctantly at that, you were left to suffer with the bruises of his possession. Visible markings would mar the surface of your flesh, the kind that bloomed into shades of purple and were later very curiously questioned on by others.
Bunny wasn't just a headache because he caused you emotional stress and reputational damage, he was an even bigger pain the ass because he was running you into credit card debt.
If as a furball he was eating enough to feed a football team, then his appetite as a human was probably the leading cause of world hunger.
"Say aah—!" You drawled out sweetly, a carrot in your hand as you gently urged him to open his mouth.
That's right, as if his bottomless pit of a stomach wasn't enough, Bunny refused to eat if you didn't feed it to him directly.
Crunch.
His head barely lifted from your shoulder as he took a bite of the root vegetable, whining softly when you took a moment too long to continue scratching the nape of his neck.
"That was a big bite!" You cooed, planting a wet kiss on his rounded cheek as he chewed. "My Bun-Bun is such a good boy!"
You had to compliment him after each bite too, reward him with a smooch for being 'such a good Bunny' and touch him in some kind of way— because the one time you didn't do that, he ended up chewing through your lacy panties that you didn't even know you still had!
They were at the bottom of your hamper, so you'd half forgotten they existed, but still! What man digs through a pile of dirty laundry and destroys panties of all things just to express his irritation?
Only Bunny would, and considering how he was technically a rabbit who liked digging, it wasn't that surprising he still had some of his animal instincts left over. So you being you, just chalked it up to Bunny being, well, your pet bunny.
You were about to feed him another bite, only to blink with stupor when you heard the bell of your apartment ring. Carrot hovering near his wide and awaiting mouth, you racked your brain for who could possibly be visiting you at this late hour.
Bunny let out a low growl from where he was sitting on your lap, his legs immediately tightening around your waist with quiet warning as his eyes narrowed with obvious displeasure. One look at his furrowed expression and you could practically see the new pyjama set you bought ripped into tatters.
"Bunny, I'm sorry— but um… would you please get off me for one moment..?"
He didn't move from his very comfortable spot on you, choosing to ignore you and huff with disapproval into your collarbone instead.
"Please?" You begged, kissing the corners of his mouth with wide and pleading eyes as your thumb rubbed across the swell of his cheeks.
Bunny watched you from the corner of his eyes, the glint of a small thought forming in them as he took in your desperation. Whilst he was a spoiled little brat who enjoyed terrorising you any chance he got, you were still his favourite human.
You may not have realised this while having to deal with his bullshit, but Bunny was weak to you just as much as you were to him.
In one swift moment, he flopped off of you and landed beside you on the couch with a thump. His silent approval, rare and genuine, warmed your heart, pulling a soft smile out of you. One Bunny quickly turned to avoid with a low grunt— the kind that urged you to hurry whilst he was still patient.
"Thank you, Bunny!" You cheered, standing to your feet, though not before giving his head a little pat. "I'll be back soon."
That's what you promised, but one look at your uninvited visitor and that may as well just have been lip service.
"What are you doing here?" You spat, arms crossing defensively as you took in the rather distasteful sight of your ex.
Just what the hell was he doing here?
"Babe—"
"Don't call me that!" You snapped, one hand flying to grab the edge of your door as the other shook by your side. "We… broke up, so please just—."
However, the man before you was quick to notice your intentions. And before you could shut the door in his face, he grabbed a hold of your arm and pulled, knocking you off of your balance.
"Stop being so stubborn!" He grunted with effort, clearly caught off guard with your unusual boost of energy.
You've never been like this before, since when did you learn to fight back?
"Let go—!" Panic shot up your throat as his grip on your arm tightened. The heat of his grimy touch searing your flesh, a feeling you hadn't felt since dating him. "Please—"
And as if hearing your desperation from afar, an arm you've lately become familiar with snaked itself around your waist.
Unlike your ex's, his touch brought you comfort, a mellow warmth you couldn't replicate with just anything.
"Bunny…!" You sniffed, immediate relief flooding you as he pulled you flush against him, your back slotting in his chest with ease.
Bunny didn't reply back to you, instead, he tucked your head beneath his chin in quiet acknowledgement and held you close like he always did. Gaze fixed forward, he stood to his full height and sized down the man intruding on his territory.
Your ex quickly grew alarmed under Bunny's scrutiny, though he tried, and pathetically so, to appear as if the six feet and three inches of pure muscle didn't frighten him.
"Who—Who, who the hell are you?!"
And again, Bunny didn't respond to your ex, though his displeased expression spoke in its stead. His narrowed eyes lingered on the man's hand, namely the way it had still yet to detach from your arm.
Bunny's arm around your waist wandered, trailing low around your hips and pushing you further into his proximity while the other grabbed a hold of the man's wrist.
"Argh—!"
Pain immediately painted his face in a hideous hue, a show of Bunny's unusual strength, one you've never been subjected to despite however many times you've ' irritated' Bunny.
"I—I'll leave! I'll go- damn it!"
Your ex's grip on your arm loosened on instinct, and Bunny was quick to take advantage of the fact. He let go of the man's wrist, quickly replacing it with your now freed arm and pulling you out of the door-frame's way.
The door swung shut, a reverberating bang that was tensely followed with eerie silence.
"…."
You gulped, dread growing in the pit of your stomach as you tried to make sense of the situation— something you were unable to do given how you couldn't even see Bunny's expression.
His grip hasn't left your arm either, and his breathing has only gotten heavier behind you, the heat of his breath fanning your neck with the threat of something.
Bunny has always had quite the good memory, there's no way he'd forget what just happened— let alone forgive you for it. To even consider otherwise is just plain stupid, and the mere thought of receiving his silence shatters your heart.
You turn to face him before you realise, your free hand reaching to cup his face with desperation you aren't aware you're capable of, only to stop when he refuses to meet you.
"Bunny, I—"
The reaction you fear doesn't come. Not in irate huffs, or stomping feet, or crossed arms. No, nothing of the sort.
Bunny's gaze is just so sad as he stares off into the distance, his expression contorted with intense confusion, like he can't figure out something he craves so deeply to understand.
"Bunny..?" Your voice trails of unsurely, your hand hovering with just as much certainty.
He finally turns to face you, or namely your arm that he'd still yet to let go of, and what he does next— has your stomach lurch.
"B-Bunny—?!"
He's licking your arm, slobbering all over the flesh of your limb with the instinct of an animal grooming its beloved.
Your fluster goes ignored, though the spike in your pulse doesn't go unnoticed by the large man before you, his darkening eyes a telling sign of his growing desires.
Bunny stares at you, unblinking and lust-glazed as he approaches your proximity with the nature of a veteran. Swift, effortless, and readily— like he knows what he's doing. Like he's seen you do it so many times before that it has now become a part of his strange nature.
"Hah—" you let out a soft sigh, your thighs clenching against yourself, a pit of need growing in your core as he littered your exposed skin with countless opened mouth kisses— covering you in his scent.
Bruises are bound to grow with how hard he bites at the flesh, but the pain eases into pleasure as he licks at the teared skin with uncontainable reverence. His desire leaks through just as much as yours, you feel it in the way he presses against you, a short friction that only fuels your longing.
His lips wander at an agonising pace, from your ears to your neck, your neck to your collarbone— and they travel lower and lower. Bunny has reached your stomach before you know it, and he stops for a short moment, just staring at you with dilated eyes. There's intention behind them, and you can only whine with desperation as the moment of tension lengthens into eternity.
The air smells different. Sweeter.
Enticing.
Your pheromones are running haywire, Bunny notices, of course he does. The faint twitch of his nose as he picks up on the change in your scent is obvious— he can see your chest heave from anticipation and your eyes glaze with the hope of release.
It's so blatantly clear that you're aroused— and Bunny wants nothing more than to breed you full of his essence.
But he doesn't just do as he pleases this time.
This time, he waits for your words of permission with patience that is unbecoming of him.
"Bunny…"
Your voice is soft as you address him, breathy and mellifluous as they charge the air with palpable tension. Grabbing the lengths of his short hair, you pull him flush against you, pressing his face close to the heat of your need.
"Will you…" Lashes fluttering, you met his gaze head on, a small smile growing on your lips as you awaited for his reaction.
"Will you show me how bunnies show their affection?"
