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reincarnated. | god!kuroo tetsurou
status; //long suffering sigh
reincarnated. | kuroo tetsurou [god!au]reincarnated. | kuroo tetsurou [god!au] by Absolute-Emperor
reincarnated. | god!kuroo tetsurou x gn!regalia!reader
☆ noragami!au (not really)
☆ more like god + servant!au
Gods usually cannot die of natural means; they can't die of old age, no illness known and unknown to man can even so much as touch them. A god got ran over by a truck? It'll hurt them like hell, but they'll just pick themselves up, and walk it off.
But gods are not immortal. It is possible to kill a god; it's insanely difficult, but not impossible. A regalia powerful enough can kill a god. A god can kill a god. Ayakashi can kill gods. But how a god dies doesn't matter. In the end, they'll be reborn because gods can't really die.
The first time Kuroo dies — you think — had been the hardest moment in your life. The second and third time was a bit more bearable. The fourth opened old, unhealed wounds. The fifth and so on became increasingly painful each time.
That pain isn't any better when, for the umpteenth time, Kuroo lies f
presence. | oikawa toorupresence. | oikawa tooru by Absolute-Emperor
presence. | oikawa tooru x gn!reader
☆ au of sorts
Your home was a cluttered mess.
A cluttered mess of worn clothes and old books and used cups and empty wine bottles and useless trinkets that scattered throughout the darkness-shrouded room that is your bedroom. Many of the things in here, Oikawa recognised, as his own belongings amongst yours.
He watched you silently, from his seat on the floor beside the bed. You laid on the right side — it was his side of the bed, though you lay there sometimes when you missed him. He smiled softly at the sight.
"Shut up, I just wanted to sleep here tonight," he heard you mumble, resting your back against the headboard, "if I want to sleep on this side, I will bloody sleep on this side, shut up, Trashykawa."
Oikawa had opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything, but he stopped himself before his words came out. His chest constricted painfully when he reminded himself that you weren’t really talking
lucipurr. | kuroo tetsuroulucipurr. | kuroo tetsurou by Absolute-Emperor
lucipurr. | kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader [drabble]
The name that usually made Kuroo smirk and drawl out a playful 'yes?' had left him terribly irked as he heard you calling out the nickname. He lifts his gaze from his phone when he hears you talking again.
"…Aww, aren't you just the cutest? Yes, you are! You're the most precious cinnamon roll ever, yes you are!"
That made Kuroo narrows his eyes at the tomcat sitting on your stomach.
Earlier in the week, Kuroo's over-relaxed approach to pretty much anything in life had gotten him in trouble with his live-in lover; one thing led to another, and three hours after the initial argument and storming out of the apartment, you came back with a black kitten you picked up from god-knows-where. Kuroo is fine and all with cats (considering how much alike he is to one), but you had named this cat 'Tetsu' (very likely out of spite).
The argument has since been water under the bridge, but no matter how many times the raven urges
five kinds of kisses. | tsukishima keifive kinds of kisses. | tsukishima kei by Absolute-Emperor
five kinds of kisses. | tsukishima kei x gn!reader
i. after practise kisses
Tsukishima has practise everyday after school. You'd wait for him everyday. He tells you not to, but you do anyways because what kind of lover would you be if you went home, leaving your boyfriend alone to work hard and walk home by himself? Besides, watching him as he moves around the court is always interesting.
After practise ends, he is drenched in sweat and his breathing is a little heavy. You walk up to Tsukki, a towel in one hand and the other holding his drink bottle.
He accepts the water bottle silently; his Adam's apple bob as he drinks the water. "You know you don't have to wait for me everyday," he says for the umpteenth time when he finishes his drink.
"I know," you reply, "but I do it anyways." You give him a crooked grin; you held up an end of the towel, gently dabbing the cloth to his sweat-streaked forehead.
Tsukishima tries to swat your hand away, mumbling that he c