#. * ◇ ─ : to give form to a forgotten color. ╱ ❪ c’s world. ❫

[irisflowerarts]

** Hi, this is my first time writing a genshin impact x reader short story! I'm really sorry if Venti is a little OOC in this, but I would be delighted to hear what you think of this short story!**

~Let the gentle winds of the night soothe you~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Each step echoed close behind as you took a step upon the clear trail amongst the land of Monstadt.

A beautiful land it was; with the people as free as the winds that gently brushed by, traveling amongst the mountains, the blossoming meadows, and the glistening ocean blue, perhaps even traveling further around the world, only it would know.

Yet with all, life always had its challenging parts, a time where it seemed an endless storm would follow wherever you go, it's pouring rains blinding you from the hope of the warm light of the sun, leaving you to feel caged with no chance of escape.

That, was how you felt right now. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically, your form aching for a need of rest while your mind buzzed with dull thoughts.

How long has it been since you rested?

Last night, yes.

But this feeling, this storm, wasn't going away.

A soft strum of a lyre was delicately played, the pluck of its strings catching your attention as you gazed towards the noise.

Seated amongst a branch, his dark locks of hair quietly swayed with the small breeze that was around, a smile across his lips, as his gaze from the lyre slowly turned to your form, one he found as beautiful as the bright sun in the sky.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asks, his voice gentle as kindness was laced within it.

It was Venti, the bard who was seen all around of Monstadt, playing a tune or speaking of tales long forgotten into time, or ones with great imagination.

It was during one of these performances when you met the bard: It was a wonder how whenever he sung or spoke of those tales that they brought you into another world.

Perhaps that was why you were allured to him.

You parted your lips to speak, but his words were the one that spoke. "Or perhaps, you're looking for a sense of peace."

He stands from the tall tree he once was, jumping off as a small burst of wind erupted from the ground like a volcano, slowing his descent until he landed in front of you as a feather touching the ground.

"H...how did you know that?" Was all you could utter, shocked at how easily he was able to read you.

A big smile came to his lips. "The wind sees and hears all! Didn't they tell you that?" He asks as he playfully poked your nose, giving you a little boop.

To be fair, Monstadt always had the phrase: "May the wind guide you." Perhaps there was more to that than what you heard.

"They also say that the winds will ease your worries." He says, taking your hand in his before you could speak another word.

"And I'll show you how!"

"What?-" was all you could say before the ground below you became illuminated with a soft aurora green color, some winds coming forth from it.

"Dont worry! I won't let you fall." He says, completely genuine.

With how energetic he was, you expected to be launched quickly into the air, so you closed your eyes tightly only to feel your feet slowly leave the ground...

You opened your E/C eyes, finding you and Venti slowly going upwards, closer and closer to the starry night sky.

A chuckle escape his lips. "You thought I was gonna launch us up, didn't you?"

A feeling of embarrassment lightly dusted your cheeks. "C-can you blame me? You're always so..spastic!"

A hearty chuckle escaped him, as he brought his arm up and wrapped it around your torso. "What can I say? There's so much to do and so little time! But... now take a look around you."

At his words, you parted your gaze from Venti's beautiful eyes, to see you were much higher up than before, when did that happen?..!

Oh archons-

"Remember what I said? I won't drop you." He says in an attempt to alleviate the fear that rattled your heart.

You trusted, no, believed his words.

You could feel the soft brushes of the wind against your locks of hair, leaving tender yet ticklish kisses against your skin, yet it brought chills.

His smile softens as he drapes his cape around you, drawing you close into his embrace, sharing his body warmth with you.

"Leave your worries to the wind, Y/n." He says against your ear in a voice you never heard him speak before.

It was one that held understanding, sincerity, yet something else was hidden within it.

"But...how can i?" You find yourself asking aloud, hearing his steady heartbeat from against his chest.

"Like this," He speaks, as his embrace let you go, leaving you in the winds hold as he floated just a few feet away.

"The wind will always be by your side, it will brush aside your worries and fears." He explains as you gazed at him, unsure and nervous. "Trust me."

Trust in me, as Venti.

Yet Trust in me, as Barbatos.

You took a deep breath, trying to wallow the fear of heights, or was it the fear of falling?

Leaving your worries behind to the wind... and trusting him, Venti.

A strange feeling washed over you: had you felt this before?

Yes... at a time before the storm came.

His hand once again collects yours, an arm coming making itself at home around your torso.

Trusting him, and perhaps something more, you embraced his touch.

Slowly, the two of you spun around; the glittering stars of the night sky being the audience as the moon served as your light.

It was like a waltz amongst the stars, but without the pressure of being watched by other ongoers, it was just you and him.

Even when Venti let go after what felt like forever, it didn't scare you as the wind truly held you.

It was as if you were dreaming...

The wind carried both you and him, like a little dance until you found yourself facing towards the night sky meeting Venti's form as he met with the ground and you, like Ying and Yang.

Words were no longer spoken, just the sound of Venti's angelic voice quietly singing for only you.

Than, his hands carefully cupped your cheeks, as your noses delicately touched as if giving each other a kiss.

"Leave your worries to the wind..." He quietly speaks before he planted a delicate kiss against your forehead.

A blush dusted your cheeks, yet a warm feeling captivated your heart.

It was than that you pulled him closer, embracing in a warm hug yet again but with your initiative.

He smiled as he continued to sing, almost like a little lullaby.

You let his voice carry you away to another world, resting your head amongst his shoulder as you eased yourself.

Soon, you fell into a slumber. Manipulating the wind, he had the both of you slowly float back down to the branch he once was on, holding you close so you wouldn't fall off and would be warm wrapped in his embrace and cape.

Leave your worries to the wind,

But he was the wind.

[kakarotcake]

In honor of Gochi Day, have this post-Buu saga fluffy oneshot I wrote of Chi Chi and Goku returning to their domestic life 😊 I wrote it last year, but I didn't have this account in May sooo I get a freebie.

C/W: Light sexual themes, nothing explicit.

Peace returning to the Earth never meant that Son Goku would stop training.

There were always going to be limits to push, and new heights to reach. Fighting was one of the things in the world that brought the Saiyan the most happiness, be it against someone who was trying to destroy his home planet or against someone who merely wanted a friendly spar, and he couldn’t picture a realistic scenario where he would give it up.

For now until he felt he made substantial progress, Goku focused on working more with his Super Saiyan 3 transformation. The series of events that transpired because of the now-fallen Babidi and what eventually became Evil Buu allowed him to fully grasp that he hasn’t mastered it yet, so dedicating time and effort was a must. It took him several years to achieve the form in Other World, and if it took him several more years to get its rate of energy consumption slowed down, then so be it.

Today, he would try to maintain Super Saiyan 3 for as long as he could, even if the fatigue made him pass out later. Standing outside of his home on the expansive Mount Paozu, Goku stood meters away in a clearing, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists as a golden aura surged around him. Long hair of a similar color whipped about as the martial artist sparred with an imaginary opponent, repeatedly throwing punches and kicks in a rhythmic fashion that carried enough strength to level a mountain many times over. This carried on well until some hours later as the sun set, and Goku was left being extremely drained.

Sweat dribbled down his forehead in a miniature stream as he took a moment to breathe, feeling all of the nerves in his body burn with a searing pain. That wasn’t anything he’s never dealt with before, but weariness was beginning to set in and set in harshly. Figuring that was enough for now, the Saiyan stood up from his seated position on the grass, and walked back to his home with the intention of getting a nice bath set up over a fire to cleanse his body. A brush of his hand through the transformation’s long golden locks to clear his face only caused an awful lot of moisture to set on his skin, and Goku looked down at the sweat coating his hand with a grimace. Alongside bathing, he should definitely try to wash his mane of hair as well. He had forgotten that it tended to act like a giant sponge.

He went to work setting up one of their large bathing tubs, easily picking it up and filling it with the clean water from their home’s nearby river. Next, Goku started a fire and placed the barrel on top. He had a lot of time to kill before the water would be warm enough, but first, he did need to get the things he needed to bathe and dry himself afterwards.

Past his own stench, his nose picked up a delectable smell wafting from his mountain home, and it acted like a magnet. Goku opened the backdoor to the kitchen and stepped inside. He was greeted by the sight of his wife standing before their oven, that was covered in an assortment of occupied cookware.

“Goku?” Chi Chi looked over her shoulder from flipping a slab of meat in a frying pan, eyes widening at the sight of him. Particularly, how his face appeared in Super Saiyan 3. He knew she was still getting used to it.

“Did you finish training for today?”

“Mostly.” A soft smile unconsciously appeared on his face, which tended to happen whenever he saw her. He closed the door behind him, remembering that she hated it being left open.

“Why do you still…look like that then? Are you going to change back?”

“Not right now. Part of the training is staying in this form as long as I can, so my body will get more used to it. Remember how I did the same thing as a normal Super Saiyan?”

“…Yes, a little…” Properly turning towards him, she crossed her arms and had a frown pulling the corners of her lips down.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“I much prefer how you normally look, Goku. The “no eyebrows” thing keeps throwing me off.”

His initial response was to chuckle in amusement, and step closer to her. Whatever guard she had quickly melted, he noticed, as her features softened – especially when he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’ll change back before bed. Don’t want my freaky face to spook you.”

“It’s not freaky.” Chi Chi scoffed, laying a hand on his chest. “Just…very different. Not THAT big of a deal.”

“Well��thanks for understanding.”

Goku leaned down to lay a kiss on the bridge of her nose, immediately causing a blush to darken her fair skin. Her soured expression was completely gone now, replaced by a giddy smile. She looked so cute that he couldn’t resist giving her another kiss, this one further down her nose, though there was gratitude present in it as well.

Ever since his identity as a Saiyan came to light years ago, both for him and her, it changed a lot of things. For one, even though she was still adamant on Gohan keeping to his studies, she was far more understanding of why exactly he loved to fight so much. To push his limits and continue growing stronger. That first night he spent in the hospital after his battle with Vegeta was the first time they were together again in over a year, and they had a serious conversation over what’s occurred in their lives during the period; including Gohan’s.

It was all so long ago that he couldn’t remember every single thing they discussed, but one thing he vividly did is that Chi Chi made it clear he was still her husband. She still loved him, even with he belonging to a race of aliens that brought nothing but suffering to their planet back then. Loving combat was in his blood, and she would be a terrible wife to refuse accepting him for who he was.

That night lead such a deeper, intimate understanding to form between them that he felt even closer to her than he did previously. That remained true years later, to today.

“Of course.” She responded with a gentler tone, playing with a strand of his golden hair.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Gohan and Goten should be back from the arcade before then.”

That’s right; Goten did want to go to one. He knew Gohan wasn’t the type to play video games or the like, but he couldn’t turn down chaperoning his little brother.

“Sounds good. I’ll take a bath in the meantime.”

“You should.” She poked him halfheartedly. “The stink of your sweat is almost overwhelming.”

“Yeah…but I bet part of you likes it, huh?”

He grinned at her shocked look, and the deepening of her blush. It wasn’t as if their bodies have never been pressed together like this, with he being sweaty…

Goku walked away before she could retaliate for his tease, grabbing the items he needed then going back outside. He laid his towel and washcloth over the rim of the tub and did a few stretches while the water continued to warm. When it was at a suitable temperature, he stripped off his clothing and quickly hopped in.

Immediately, the Saiyan breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the soreness in his muscles being soothed. He sat there for some minutes, enjoying the warmth before he started to bathe. Foamy soap was spread over his skin and filled the water as he scrubbed himself, but he was soon presented with what would be the most daunting task in the moment. Goku grabbed a handful of his hair, grunting in slight vexation as he used his free hand to reach for the shampoo bottle. If he had to deal with this regularly, then maybe he could afford to spend a little less time maintaining Super Saiyan 3…

He paused when he heard a door open and close, detecting a familiar ki source approaching him.

“Chi?” Goku looked over towards his wife, seeing she lay her hands on the rim of the tub.

“Need some help, dear?” There was a giggling undertone to her voice, and he felt her grab a portion of his locks.

“I’d hate for you to deal with this lion’s mane all on your own.”

“I was just wondering how I’d manage it.” Goku admitted, shrugging. “Can you wash it for me?”

“I’d be happy to.”

He gladly sat back and relaxed, dampening his hair while Chi Chi took the bottle and squeezed a handful of shampoo into her palm. Pleasure shot from his head down his spine in tingles when she started working it in, rubbing his scalp and spreading the foam around until his head was almost entirely enveloped in it.

“Oh my, it’s like there’s even more than I thought. Why does this form of yours give you such long hair anyway?”

“I don’t know. It just…does.” He never thought about that, actually. Then again, he wasn’t sure why he also lost his eyebrows in 3, or why Super Saiyan in general made his hair turn gold either.

“Just another Saiyan mystery, hm? At least it’s soft and fluffy.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he could picture the amused look she had. With her presence, how good the warm water felt, and his still-existing fatigue, Goku felt so at ease that his eyelids suddenly were like weights. They involuntarily began drooping, and he didn’t put up much effort into keeping them open.

He missed this. Their family had already started going back to a new normal after Buu, but there was still no ignoring how there was a strong sense of yearning that persisted in his heart. Being deprived of this for 7 years, a decision he did choose to make though now questioned if his earlier belief in it keeping his family safe ended up making a difference in the end, was something he never wanted to go through again.

To put his sons through again. To put her through, again.

“I’m so happy you’re back, Goku…”

Like she sensed his thoughts, Chi Chi verbally acknowledged the atmosphere. Her voice cracked some, and he raised an arm from the water to hold one of her hands that currently rested on his chest.

“Me too. And, I’m not leaving. Never again.”

She returned the action, lacing her fingers with his. Another break of silence passed, but neither of them needed to say anything else. Chi Chi resumed lathering his golden mane, while her husband quietly relished in the feel of her ki. When she was done, he rinsed it by briefly dunking his head underwater, and stood up to get out of the tub.

Standing before Chi Chi, the blushing woman took his towel and dried his hair to the best of her ability, getting onto the tips of her toes some to lovingly press her forehead against his and brush their noses together.

“You know…this Super Saiyan 3 isn’t so bad. You’re still as handsome as ever.”

As always, she reminding him how attractive she found him caused Goku to beam.

“In that case, do you want me to come to bed like this?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t mind.”

The undertones of her singsong claim sparked a special kind of heat deep within him, but in a manner awfully similar to how he teased her earlier, she promptly left the towel hanging awkwardly over his head and walked back towards the house. He intently watched how she lightly – and purposefully – swung her hips back and forth.

“Go ahead and finish drying off, then get dressed. I’ll start setting the table.”

Though they were far, he sensed Gohan and Goten’s ki signatures coming closer at a speed that suggested they were probably riding on Nimbus. The little cloud wasn’t nearly as fast as them flying themselves, but it was fast enough that they would get here before he could try to get back at his other half and keep up this game. Darn.

Oh well. There was always tonight, and he wasn’t so tired that he would crash right away. With that in mind, Goku patted himself dry, smirking at the bedroom antics possible to be had after dinner and when their sons went to sleep.

There was a lot of lost time to make up for...

[witchingrey]

obey me! tidbits .

C.C. is Celtic, and part fairy or fae; or  Tuath Dé / Danann, having been abandoned by her full-blooded Mother from her original birth place within part of Ancient Britain’s corner of Northern Ireland, the fabled  Tír na nÓg before eventually finding herself living in the very human realm of the isles of ancient Britannia / Britain. Long before it established itself and wars were an every day occurrence. This lends itself to her natural longevity. 

With a natural, immeasurable talent for magic and power ingrained in her half-fae blood, or Sidhe, C.C. roamed between the portals of time and space without an ability to control her magic; already quite powerful as a little halfling child; she eventually came upon a teacher who would be teaching her into about her nigh two hundredth century by her own blood’s natural favoring.

The teacher had ulterior motives, and whatever happened between that time and, only a few centuries later would the ancient Witch discover to be a transferred ‘curse’ of immortality, the already guaranteed long life sealed with a curse instead of the freedom of the fair folk to which she both and did not belong. This betrayal has scarred C.C.

C.C. has an enigmatic history with Leviathan @perfectbluu​ as a child, having witnessed him once upon the seas wreaking havoc in full form; a changeling child no one wanted in long spurned rags and stale bread for company. As he wreaked said havoc upon the mortal realm; she confused him for a ‘great dragon’ and not a serpent. The girl foolishly offered a loaf of bread near the dock before concerned acolytes and fellow supernaturals took her back into a safer portal elsewhere. 

Eventually C.C. took residence in the Devildom after the entirety, start to finish, of the Witch Trials endured, and many other such things you’ll not find from her lips, finding no comfort among Man, long having been tortured, abused and manipulated in her innocent days by fire, quite literally, and other methods of heartache, tragedy and countless eternal stories that have gone into the thousands of her immortal life, one that would be consider blessed if not for the means. 

She began research into her ‘curse’ , taking many Witches and Warlocks / Sorcerers as apprentices to stave off loneliness and to make them wise in the world of demons, to whom so many easily gave their soul’s natural providence of dominion.

C.C. has spent countless years in the Devildom establishing herself as ‘The Great Witch / Grey Witch / Witch of Fate’ and other both seemly and unfriendly nicknames while keeping her blood a secret; though her nymph-like hair color, her rich, sun-colored eyes and regal features denote an otherwordly sort of beauty that no glamour could imitate. 

She is ultimately one of the key magical, non-demonic entities of myth that many young witches and warlocks aspire to be like, or in some cases, avoid due to unsavory rumors and far-fetched legends due to how long she has graced the earth both under hell and heaven.

Naturally gifted the power of seeing the strands of fate; C.C. has the natural given gift of ‘Sight’ and ‘Clairvoyance’, able to see the ‘red strings that bind’ and at times, even intervene but only on the personal vow of it being in the person’s best interest. She calls her actions of intervening for better or worse blended with knowing it is the right thing by her Sight, the Witch’s Scissors, because her Sight / Psionic abilities allows her to see the outcome. She uses it sparingly, as freedom of choice in longevity was taken from her; so too does she wish her students and proteges to find their own path. Although very few have become the latter due to either fear or unnecessary awe. 

C.C. ultimately reunites with Leviathan, finding familiarity in the yellow eyes that are not mad with bloodlust, but familiar all the same, stumbling upon him at some point in the Devildom prior to the MC arriving. She considers him her closest friend and one that has not left her in the flow of time. Aware of who he is after that long time ago as an innocent witchling girl; she finds relief that for his hermit-like ways, he seems more at peace in his hobbies. 

Ultimately, C.C. will if not in her main verse always harbor deeper emotions for the Avatar of Envy, Annie’s to be exact, having a history only she remembers awoken by him proposing a Pact, something she has avoided for many an age since her mistake with her first pact with a demon named Mao. She is notorious for being immensely and frighteningly powerful without having excessive amounts of demons for ulterior motives.  Which lends herself if she falls off the beaten path as a legitimate threat.

When summoning Leviathan, as discussed, he will take the form of a massive draconic Serpent just as she remembers him, but with sanity and reason. She generally does not call upon them, viewing their bond and mutual hurts and joys as sacred. 

Despite her curse expanding an already assured existence, C.C. still finds great purpose and an ability to see forward into her life’s endless flow due to her natural fae-given abilities, thus encouraging her timeless body to for ‘boredom’s sake’ partake in the studies of the Devildom if only to be a comforting source for young Witches. This has stopped her from becoming entirely cynical.

C.C. is easily one of the most powerful non-demonic entities in the Devildom and mortal world by hard work, natural talent, and sheer cunning. As a Witch, she is a paragon to many who seek her out for wisdom or teaching; finding she is a surprisingly gentle if not cryptic teacher known for both her beauty and her strictness. 

C.C. will only ship generally with @perfectbluu​ in Obey Me! Verse as she is highly protective of him and feels they have kindred spirits; only generally talking a liking to Beelzebulb, Satan, Lucifer and Mammon. That can easily change according to how they treat her chosen demon of pact, and will not hesitate to challenge them on their treatment of him and his hobbies as a coping mechanism, in the same sense she would feel a kinship with Solomon. A softness for Luke, and a wariness but quiet appreciation for the kindness of Simeon. She generally is too old and too busy to waste time on silly scruples of race.

Basically C.C. is known as both an enigma, her origins a secret, her age unknown, and renowned for both beauty and brains. To many witches and young magic users, she is an ideal, if not eccentric and gentle teacher who oddly enough always seems to have a knack of knowing just what might benefit their life’s path… 

[illicitlimerence-writes]

close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

reincarnation + hurt/comfort or you can choose angst or fluffy.

Congrats for 600 Follower!!

aha. hahaha. enjoy this one because i know i did >:)c i think my heart being weird today helped tremendously!!

~ * ~

"Reincarnation"- Angst

Warning for death, blood, fighting, decay, nightmares

~ * ~

It’s been so long since he’s seen you. Laying here, with his bones weary and head heavy, it feels like a thousand years. Which it might be, judging by the growth of the trees around him. There’s a flower in his horns, multiple copies; they bloom deep blue and four-pronged like stars. How he hates stars, they mock him so. It was one misstep, one wrong movement, one insolent, snickering Mage. It teased and taunted him, turning lazy loops in the air, and his spear cracked underneath his claws in fury. A slash, a poof of mist, and red, red blood coating the blade and your pained, shocked expression as the Mage cackled behind him. The next stroke of his weapon shook, mixing the Mage’s glittering blood with your own like a sort of twisted paintbrush. In a horrible sense, the colors were beautiful. The world had faded away when he held you, whimpering out apology after apology until you brushed his plated cheek with the tips of your fingers and whispered acceptance and trust as your body turned cold and your grip weakened. He remembers the chill of your skin as he clung to your fading light, watching your muscles stiffen like pieces of ice and your eyes fade to gray and white; washed out, colorless shades of death. Sometimes he can imagine your skin decaying, rotting away until there’s nothing left but bleached bone, slowly turning to dust and being forgotten. Those nights he wakes up screaming, if he can wake up at all. Sometimes the old god comes to visit him, with his immaculate suit and tie. The years have worn him away, little by little, his golden eyes more of a faded amber. But they know each other, all the same, and he always asks when, when will Childe give up, when will he accept that you’re gone? He’s never been good at giving up, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui never accepting defeat. Do the Fatui even exist anymore? He doesn’t know. It’s here he waits for you, where you said you’d always return, where you first wove a circlet of flowers for his horns, where you found him wasting away and took him in. You always promised that if you were lost, you’d find your way back to here, to now, to him. You wouldn’t break a promise… You wouldn’t… No, you wouldn’t, the hand on his face reassures him as he blinks in surprise at your smiling face. It’s you. It’s you! Your form is pristine and healthy, not a wound in sight as you grasp his claws close. Arms envelop you in a hug as Childe chokes out joyful sobs between stuttering trills and coos of delight- he feels so strong and so young again, and you’re here, you’re here, some form of miraculous reincarnation! And that old rock god said it couldn’t be done! It’s so light and shining here, like the sun and the stars combined as he sweeps you off your feet with a flourish worthy of a Harbinger. Ah, how he missed you, but now it’s like you weren’t ever gone- perhaps he was just sleeping, too long and too deeply, to notice the dawn and new day rising. He purrs, steadily, and holds you close. And you laugh, the sound spooling out like sunshine and light and warming Childe to his core as he leads you back, back home, back to life, with the promise to dance with you in the moonlight eternally. The old god of Geo remembers, despite the erosion, to visit, and finds himself alone once more.

[myriadismx]

Your Call | Part I

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5669

Summary: As the only daughter from an affluent family, Y/N must fulfill a role inside the golden cage she escapes from at every opportunity. But as an enthralling and mysterious boy comes into her life, she's about to discover there's no escaping her true self.

Warnings: Implications of incest.

Author’s Notes: Jaguars are not native from Japan but the Americas, however, I've always been fascinated with nahual legends that hail from my country. So, I took many liberties regarding jaguars and did my best to accomodate nahual elements into the story. Enjoy!

Taglist: @riotsragdoll @ofallthingsnasty

@ajaviary

Nahual \ nəˈ(g)wäl \

: a human being who has the power to shapeshift into a jaguar form, often assuming the role of a personal spirit guardian or protective alter ego.

.

.

.

Sinking your dainty feet in the mud felt just right. If your mother could see you right now, she’d scold you for not following the rules she spent eight years teaching you. Breaking them as deliberately as you did when she wasn't looking earned you three nights in the cellar without food or water.

It was inconceivable for a lady of your standing and tender age to leave her house without a chaperone, to play in the forest, and ruin her silk dress with dirt. But your parents' strict upbringing could not put down your thirst for adventure, and your free-spirit always longed for the call of nature when you were forced to stay put at home. Being an only child was boring, so you took advantage of your nanny’s naps to get away.

When you jumped once again in the dirt, giggling at the sloshing sound of the mud making its way through your toes, and turned around, you found yourself in the company of a blonde boy that seemed not much older than you. Also, he was very much naked.

Your first reaction was to avert your eyes, but curiosity made you look at him again. His hair was the color of the wheat that grew on your father’s lands, his skin was sun kissed but his eyes were unlike any other pair you had ever seen before, they were crimson red… The color of blood.

He was also giving you a surprised and inquisitive look, as if he had never seen another person in his life. His eyebrows furrowed and you thought he was going to be mean like the other children you knew. Instead of that, he approached you slowly and leaned his face closer to your neck, sniffing you and you felt your ear tickle. He briefly pulled apart to look you in the eye and licked your cheek.

“Nice to meet you too,” you said, stroking his head, and he nuzzled his cheek against yours. “I’m Y/N!”

The boy didn’t reply at once, taking his sweet time examining your features and grooming you.

“Do you have a name?”

The boy’s lips moved and a hissing noise came from the depths of his throat. Then he sputtered in frustration and finally said something coherent. “Katsuki.”

“Katsuki!” you repeated after him, and he seemed to like it. “Where are your Papa and Mama?”

His smile disappeared at once. “Gone.”

Upon learning that Katsuki was an orphan, you felt an inexplicable urge to cry. Now it made sense why Katsuki was alone in the middle of the forest without any clothes.

Your feelings of melancholy and guilt were soon forgotten when Katsuki ruffled your hair, ruining the curls your mother liked to see on you.

"Come!" He challenged you, running towards the waterfall. It was an unfamiliar and intimidating place that you had never visited alone, but you followed him without hesitation.

You soon discovered that with Katsuki time passed in the blink of an eye. Unable to hear you because of the noise of the waterfall, you had to yell at Katsuki and in a way that was invigorating. In your world where manners ruled, you could only speak softly and never out of turn. With Katsuki it was as if you were releasing something that they forced you to keep suppressed, and encouraged you to surrender to joy and embrace your true self.

At some point Katsuki decided it was a good idea to cool off in the river and prompted you to follow him. But seeing that you remained on the riverbank dipping only your feet, Katsuki returned to your side and began to pull from your dress to take it off.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Take…” he grumbled. “Off!"

Katsuki tried to use his teeth, which looked too sharp for a child's, and his nails to break your clothes, but you stopped him. After a brief struggle, you managed to remove your clothes on your own until you were only left in your pantaloons and went swimming with Katsuki. Your mother would definitely faint if she could see you, and the thought made you laugh.

By the time the sun began to fade over the horizon, you and Katsuki were lying asleep very close to each other. Your face was hidden in his neck while he hugged you protectively. And you’d have stayed like this all night if it were not for your father and his hunting party who were in search of you and managed to find you before it was completely dark.

Your father wasn’t amused to find you half-naked, but like you, he was captivated by Katsuki's exotic appearance. He wondered if he was a Russian or half-breed orphan who had been abandoned due to Japanese hostility towards the Russians. It would be just a matter of time before he succumbed to the cruelty of nature or one of his stray bullets.

He was surprised for an instant when Katsuki opened his eyes and gave him a defiant look. It was astonishing how a child's gaze could make a chill run down his spine, and he knew it wasn't just because they had an unnatural color. Katsuki's glare, along with the way you two were huddled together, was enough for your father to come to the conclusion that trying to separate you was going to be impossible and wasn’t worth it to make you cry if he tried to.

Plus, he already had a pet jaguar at home. Adding a homeless, human boy wasn't going to be a problem.

"Y/N," he gently shook you, Katsuki's gaze following his every movement. "Wake up, darling, let's go home."

You whined and felt Katsuki's arm hold you tighter when you opened your eyes. "Papa..."

When you stood up and tried to get closer to your father, Katsuki grabbed your wrist. He didn't want to part with you, and it hurt you, too, to leave him behind.

"Papa, can we...?" You gave him a pleading look, and he smiled.

"Sure. If you like him, he's yours.” he agreed as if Katsuki was his property. “I'll give him to you."

"Thank you so much!" You beamed, holding Katsuki’s hand.

After helping you put back on your dress and covering Katsuki with the haori of one of the servants, the group returned to the estate that belonged to the L/N family. Your family.

Katsuki looked around curiously as you crossed the wheat and corn crops. They were owned by your father, and were lands that Katsuki had avoided all his life at his father's warning, before he disappeared forever.

The ranch was also impressive, and although he understood that it served as a refuge to you, it was nothing like the caves and tree branches that he used to sleep in. He wondered what it’d look like on the inside, but as he got off the horse to enter, what he saw at the entrance caused him to freeze in his tracks.

"It’s pretty, right?" You asked him innocently, but soon noticed that he was frowning and showing his teeth. "What's wrong?"

A powerful roar caught your attention and you looked ahead. Near the entrance there was a male jaguar chained to a tree. Your father had captured it last year when it snuck onto the garden while you were playing alone with a paper ball. You remembered that it had jumped on you and tried to take you away, but your father had shot it in the thigh.

Despite the enormous fright it had given you, it greatly distressed you to see the injured jaguar, and before your father could give it the killing shot, you protected Jaga with your body. Much to his surprise, the animal was not intent on harming you and licked the tears off your face.

And to your mother's dismay, the jaguar had its wound healed and it was adopted as a pet. Your father liked to brag to his friends and acquaintances that he was the only man in Ezo to own a predatory animal and have a daughter capable of taming it with ease.

Without fear, you approached the jaguar and it immediately behaved docile. It actually seemed to like having you scratch its neck and ears, and it playfully bit your hand in response.

"Come pet him," you encouraged Katsuki and he leaned over and mimicked your actions. "His name is Jaga."

Far from looking excited about having the opportunity to touch such a dangerous animal and come out unscathed, Katsuki seemed overwhelmed. Jaga licked his hand and looked sad too. You knew this because he had behaved similarly in the early days of his captivity.

Your father approached to caress it, too, but he could barely give it a couple of pats. Jaga regained its usual energy and roared a warning at your father that made him desist from his caring gesture.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, you were embraced by your anguished mother. You were ashamed to admit it, but her overbearing affection that mixed overprotection and dominance was the main reason why you took advantage of the moments when she was distracted to run off to the forest. She always fretted that if you went out she would never see you again, and at the same time she kept a distance from you under the pretext of having a headache and feeling ill when things didn’t go her way. She adored dressing you in the finest fabrics and ribbons she could find yet she argued that you were plain, even though other adults said you were a very pretty girl.

Your father told you that when you were born your mother had had a very difficult delivery and made it impossible for her to have more children, which explained why she was so suffocating and strict on you and why you didn't have siblings.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" She asked you while checking you from head to toe and kissing your cheeks.

"Yes, Mama."

Her smile of relief was replaced with a sigh of disappointment. "I don't understand why you won't be a good girl and stay still."

There it was. The criticism hidden behind a sliver of affection. At this you could only lower your gaze and let her express her concern and anger until she remembered that your father was also present and turned her attention to him.

"When I found Y/N, this boy was with her and they got along so well that I decided to bring him so he could keep her company."

Until then, Katsuki had remained silent and hidden behind your father, but when he realized that everyone had gone quiet, he showed himself. As soon as their gazes met, your mother paled and took a step back. It was as if she had seen a ghost and immediately pulled you towards her.

"I don't want that scoundrel in my house!" She complained loudly and embraced you protectively. "I have enough with that wretched beast outside!"

"Papa told me I could keep him!" You protested, trying to free yourself from her hold "I want Katsuki to be with me!"

Katsuki also tried to approach you, but your father stopped him, wanting to mediate before allowing him to get closer and risk someone getting hurt. If Katsuki had managed to survive alone in the forest without any scratches, perhaps he was more fierce and strong than he appeared. "It's true, I have allowed your new friend to be a part of this house as he seems determined to keep you safe. With patience we can make him more civilized and say that he is the orphaned son of some distant relative," he looked at him and Katsuki seemed to calm down a bit, but kept an angry pout. "My decision is final."

That night your mother refused to eat supper in the dining room, and Katsuki was given an old yukata that belonged to the cook's grandson and a pair of geta, both of which he refused to wear at first. Your father promised to get him clothes of his size that would make him look more cultured, and he also made an agreement with your tutor to teach him to read and write. For a moment they both believed that the task would be impossible because Katsuki seemed to be unable to speak, until you told your father that Katsuki could actually talk fluently and just didn't feel like doing it.

His table manners were also terrible. In addition to eating with his hands, he chewed with his mouth open and sniffed everything before eating it. Noticing that he was being watched by everyone with shocked looks, Katsuki became frustrated and threw his plate and glass of water to the floor. Your father immediately ordered the maids to clean up the mess and scolded Katsuki for losing his temper so easily. You knew that despite being a loving parent to you, he could be very stern with his punishments if you made him angry, and you intervened before that happened with your new friend.

"Hey," Katsuki glanced at you and watched you cut a piece of meat. "Use the fork and knife, like this."

Katsuki snorted, but calmed down when you offered him your meat with a smile. After eating it, he took away your utensils to try to do the same. Although his way of holding the fork and knife was very mediocre, his willingness to learn filled you with pride and appeased your father.

"It seems that you are skilled at taming any kind of beast." He commented, not caring if Katsuki understood what he was talking about and was offended as a result. His wary gaze implied that he had been offended.

"Don't worry, I'll help you learn faster." You encouraged him, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

Katsuki basked in your subtle display of affection and grabbed your wrist, rubbing his cheek against it. Your father sighed in exasperation, making a mental note that he would have to correct that as well.

Even though your father didn't really expect to turn Katsuki into someone refined, the latter exceeded his expectations. At first he didn’t speak and his writing was terrible, but Katsuki soon proved to be very intelligent and easily learned what your teacher taught him. Once he was encouraged to read aloud, your attestation that he was good with words was confirmed, and since then there was no way to silence him when he wanted to voice his opinion.

Between lessons, Katsuki liked to go outside to run and play, even at night. At first he did it naked; then he learned to keep his pants on and eventually gave up the habit of undressing in public. You couldn't help but notice that when he went outside, he always addressed Jaga with respect, and even sat for long hours with it, stroking it, and muttering something unintelligible.

"Thanks for taking care of him." He told you during one of the many nights when Katsuki snuck into your room to share your bed despite having his own to sleep in.

"Who?"

Katsuki was silent for a few moments before answering. "Jaga."

"Ah," Now that you thought about it, since Jaga became part of the family, you were the one who took care of it. Far from treating it like a pet, he had become your best friend and you sympathized with its needs just as it perceived your need to be loved and be free. "I like to do it, Jaga is someone special to me."

"I know, and he feels the same."

You wondered if Katsuki could understand Jaga too, but apparently he was much better at it than you. But instead of being pleased, Katsuki seemed uncomfortable, although the times you saw him talking to Jaga, his expression was solemn and focused.

As the weeks passed, and your bond with Katsuki grew stronger, your father became pleased with him. So much, that he allowed him to mingle with the children of his friends and acquaintances at the party he organized to celebrate his birthday. Your mother kept giving Katsuki contemptuous glances that he reciprocated. It was useless trying to make her understand his qualities because she insisted on saying that your father would eventually regret taking Katsuki in.

While your mother was getting ready to go down to the party, you and Katsuki were in charge of receiving the guests with your father. Katsuki again refused to engage in conversation but when he introduced himself, he did so with such excellent manners that it was hard to believe that he was the same wild boy you met just a few weeks ago.

However, when Count Enji Todoroki arrived with his family and he took your hand to kiss it, Katsuki stiffened and a groan escaped him. It wasn't the first time a grown man had made that gesture with you, but there was something about Enji that unsettled you. But you weren’t allowed to spurn him as he was your father’s most important business partner and lifelong friend.

"I see that your daughter is growing up to be very beautiful and strong. I’m sure that someday she will make a wonderful wife." Upon hearing that remark, his wife, Lady Rei, looked away and coughed a little. Despite being a graceful and gentle woman, her health was fragile and she rarely traveled with him.

"Well yes, her future is promising but I doubt that Shouto is already thinking about such things, isn't he?" Your father inquired.

Shouto was the youngest of Count Todoroki's four children and his favorite. The duality of his red and white hair as well as his turquoise and gray eyes was striking. His reaction to the possibility of a marriage between you and him was limited to a long, silent look. He then did the same with Katsuki, who gave him a dismissive gesture and hugged you as if he wanted to block his view. Although he had nothing to worry about because Shouto never spoke to you whenever he visited your house, preferring to remain absorbed in his own world, and he never made an effort to be your friend.

It was during those parties between adults that you needed a friend the most. Since you could remember, the other children believed you were a strange girl and they used that to treat you like the plague, especially Seiji Shishikura and Neito Monoma.

Sometimes they ignored you while they played with each other and other times they pulled mean pranks on you. They weren't worried about the eldest Todoroki children, Touya, and Fuyumi, because they remained away from the others instead of acting as caretakers for the younger kids.

Now that Katsuki had joined their social circle, they believed that they could treat him the same way that they had treated you until now. The last time they spotted their babysitters, Touya was busy holding Fuyumi's ankle and slipping his hand underneath her kimono, making her blush and timidly look away.

This time you didn't mind being ignored because you had Katsuki as a playmate. But when the other children asked to join your butterfly hunting game, you saw no reason to object.

"Amazing Katsuki! You’re so good at this!" You praised him when he captured his ninth butterfly within an hour.

"You’re the one who’s very slow!" He teased you, pointing to the moth you had in your pocket. "I’ll make a great hunter outta you!"

"Look, Y/N!” Seiji approached you holding something between his joined hands. “I found a butterfly of many colors!"

Ecstatic and out of curiosity, you put your palms up to get a closer look at the butterfly, but your delight was overshadowed with horror when Seiji placed a gutted frog in your hands. You immediately threw it away and started crying, looking for a pond of water to wash yourself. But when Neito pulled you by the hair, Katsuki stepped in and grabbed his wrist tightly until his bones began to crack.

"Hey, let him go!" Seiji intervened and grabbed Katsuki by the neck of his clothes. "You want to pick a fight with us?!"

As soon as he said that, the atmosphere felt so tense that even Shouto turned his attention away from the book he was reading and a chill ran down your spine.

Soon, Seiji was horrified and trembled with fear when he saw that Katsuki was looking at him with uncanny fierceness and bared his very sharp teeth while growling in fury. In an instant, Katsuki broke free by throwing a swipe at Seiji so hard that his vest was tattered and he fell backwards to the ground. The blonde did the same with Neito and everyone froze with just one glare from him.

"Don't you ever bully Y/N, ever again!" He threatened them. "If you don't stop, I'll take off more than your clothes!"

Katsuki looked like a predator threatening to eat them, and the crimson glow in his eyes was so intimidating that it made Seiji pee on himself. Everyone fled in terror to hide from him, but when Katsuki turned around and saw Shouto wipe your watery eyes with a handkerchief, he pushed him away.

"Get away! She's mine!" He was no longer showing off his enlarged fangs and sharp nails, but it was evident that he didn’t like anyone else touching you, be it a friend or a foe.

"I was just helping her." Shouto quietly complained, not scared of him in the slightest. "You don't have to be so agitated."

Just as Katsuki was preparing to jump on Shouto, you took his hand to stop him. He roared at you, but upon looking at your shocked expressions and taking in the consequences of his actions, as well as Shouto's puzzled look, Katsuki pulled his arm off and ran away.

You instantly rushed after him because you were the only one to notice something else beyond his eerie transformation: his tears.

Katsuki's heart was hurting.

He was very fast and soon disappeared from your sight. You tried calling his name, to no avail, but somehow you could smell his scent. Perhaps his odd habits were rubbing off on you, and soon enough you found his pants, his jacket, and the rest of his clothes until you spotted a really big cat...

It actually looked an awful lot like Jaga, but smaller. It was turning its back at you, but its tail was flicking back and forth in a rigid way. Your experience at reading Jaga's behavior told you that the little fella was

"Katsuki," the feline moved away from your touch but didn't run again. It didn't have to speak for you to know that he was Katsuki, but with a different appearance.

Katsuki had sworn not to show you this side of him so soon, if ever. He knew you were different from those who forced him to stay hidden from the world, the only one who could understand him. But that didn't stop him from wondering what you could think of him and his unique ability. He was terrified that you wouldn't hold him dear to you anymore after you saw what he was, and what he was capable to do.

Because the scariest and most painful thing that could happen to him would be if the one he loved most rejected him as well.

"Katsuki, it's going to be alright," you whispered softly and crawled next to him. "I'll always be here for you."

He turned his head, and you reached out your hand to pet his head and smiled reassuringly. Your arm surrounded his neck and you nuzzled your cheek against his face. In return, he licked you, but then scoffed, as if embarrassed by his own actions.

You remained cuddled together until he gradually returned to his human appearance. He put back on his clothes, except the shoes, but remained quiet. You didn't know much about jaguars, so you took him before Jaga in the hopes that its presence would soothe Katsuki.

The animal was taking a nap and woke up as soon as it heard your footsteps in the distance and turned its attention to Katsuki, who was beginning to morph again due to how upset he still was.

"Please Jaga. If you are friends with Katsuki, help him." You asked, rubbing circles on Katsuki’s back and pushing him to get closer.

You didn't have to ask twice, as Jaga carefully bit Katsuki's hand to bring him out of his raging trance and he roared in protest. Then the jaguar began to lick him on the face, neck and nape, at which Katsuki got on his knees, and continued growling, until he stopped looking like a beast. Although the chuffle that occasionally escaped his lips as he rolled on the ground with Jaga was not at all human.

You smiled and joined them, not minding if your silk dress was ruined for rolling on the grass and letting Jaga hit you with its paws when you tried to imitate its sounds, or ruffling your locks with its gentle licks on your head and face. It was a familiar and pleasant feeling that you hadn’t experienced in...

Now that you stopped to think about it, you did not remember feeling that way with your parents, even though they did their best to raise you well, but you chose not to delve too deeply into it. Or rather, Katsuki didn't let you do it as he tugged your dress to pull you towards him and press you to the ground. His gaze on you was deep and slightly furrowed, but you knew he wasn't upset; rather than that he was concentrating on your puzzled expression.

"Katsuki, are you a bakeneko?"

He flicked your nose, offended that you compared him to a demon. "I'm a nahual."

"A what?"

Katsuki proceeded to explain he was one of the last descendants of a line of sorcerers that possessed a connection with an animal spirit that acted as their protector and granted them the ability to take on its form at will. In Katsuki's case, he and his parents could change into jaguars.

His parents weren't the type to harbor resentment toward those who discriminated against them for their heritage. But Katsuki pointed out it wasn't a good idea to get on the bad side of a nahual, and he admitted he wasn't as forgiving.

"Does it bother you?" He asked you, still afraid at the possibility that you wouldn’t want to relate to him anymore after seeing him partially transformed.

To his relief, you shook your head. "It was amazing," You stroked his cheek. "You're amazing."

Hearing you admit that you were impressed with his unique ability to shapeshift and accepting him for who he was made him smile. It was the first time you had seen him do such a thing, and you returned the gesture with a smile of your own and a hug full of love that he enjoyed more than he was willing to admit.

When you and Katsuki were called in for dinner, no one mentioned anything about the incident with the latter's transformation. Apparently Seiji and his friends were so terrified of him that they made up a story of ripping their clothes off in a thorn bush while playing.

Your mother, however, assumed that Katsuki had something to do with it since he kept her eye on them and they avoided looking at him. She waited for the guests to leave to approach her husband with the idea of sending you to study in Ashikaga along with Count Todoroki's daughter. Wanting the best for you but also wishing to consult it with you first, your father said that he would think about it before making a decision.

Unbeknownst to them, Katsuki had overheard the conversation as he made his nightly rounds with Jaga. The very idea of separating from you filled him with anxiety, because he sensed that if you left his side, he would never see you again, and he wasn’t willing to risk it.

Katsuki snuck into your bedroom to warn you of your parents’ plot, but he was a bit disappointed when she saw that you were already sound asleep. He climbed on your bed and hugged you against his body, stroking your hair.

"I will always be with you, Y/N." He murmured in your ear. Katsuki was young but very determined. "Nothing and no one is ever going to separate us."

That was a promise that Katsuki kept for ten years, overcoming your mother's unfulfilled wishes to send you away to study, witnessing Ezo's name change to Hokkaido after the Honorable Restoration, as well as the changes time brought in your appearance.

As a child you were considered quite pretty, but now that you had matured into a young woman, there was no man who could resist looking at you and contemplating your beauty, so different from the other women on the island. While Katsuki became a tall and muscular man that made the ladies swoon over him when he accompanied you to social events or they stopped by your farm to see him work in the fields. However, they often left disappointed when Katsuki was nowhere to be seen because he was away from any prying eyes to enjoy your company.

Your parents had already resigned themselves to the idea that no matter how vigilant they were of you or how much they forbade you to leave the estate, you were always going to find a way to escape to the forest whenever you wanted. But your father was more lax about it, since now you did it accompanied by Katsuki and Jaga. Your friend was excellent at body-to-body combat and few people would dare to come closer with a jaguar next to you.

When you were first allowed to take Jaga on a stroll, you planned to release it to its rightful place, but somehow Jaga always returned in time to go home. Ever since you met Katsuki and they got lost together in the jungle, you understood how precious freedom was and it was odd that Jaga was unwilling to take advantage of it.

But Katsuki had taken it upon himself to make you understand that without a partner, freedom felt as lonely as captivity. When he came into your life it was as if the gates of paradise had opened for you, and Katsuki not only taught you to climb trees, swim in the river and catch small animals. But he also taught you what it was like to love and be loved.

You made an official introduction to the marriage market on your 20th spring with a lavish party. Numerous men, among them Monoma, vied for your hand in marriage. But they knew your parents wouldn't be content to give you away to any man as you were very beautiful and talented. Only a man with huge pockets and more skill was worthy of you.

Someone like Shouto Todoroki.

Just like Katsuki was highly desired by ladies, Shouto was the most eligible bachelor around, equally sought after by heiresses and their fathers. He had grown into a very handsome man with a prodigious talent for many things and a royal bearing that made him look more like a Prince than a Duke.

Shouto seemed to also think he stood a chance at winning you over. A couple of days after the party, he visited your house to run an errand for his father and asked for permission to take you for some kakigori. Your mother gave her consent, but Katsuki tagged along regardless of his workload.

"Which flavor do you fancy?" Shouto asked you.

"Sweet plum." You replied, taking in Katsuki's sour mood.

"I like that one too." Shouto smiled and you did as well. Then he turned to Katsuki. "And you?"

"I don't want anything that comes from you." He replied, glaring at the amicable interaction between the two of you.

After Katsuki partially shifted in front of the other children, Shouto had made a more active effort to befriend you. But Katsuki didn't seem to appreciate his attempts, especially when you decided to open up to him and accept him into your inner circle.

Katsuki saw other men that showed interest in you to be beneath him, even those that were of higher birth than himself, and he openly mocked them. But with Shouto he was outright hostile, and you knew that was because he saw him as a threat.

You were indifferent with all the bachelors that tried to catch your attention; however, you made an exception with Shouto because he was a pleasant and genuine person. That was enough for Katsuki to dislike him, though you assumed it wasn't anything to worry about.

When you received your treat, some children ran off past you and dropped your shaved ice. Shouto kindly offered you his portion, and held your hand for a moment, feeling your soft and warm skin. Katsuki slapped his hand and pulled you towards him.

"Katsuki!" You took a handkerchief from your pocket to wipe the syrup from Shouto's jacket. "What is your problem?"

He ignored your question to make his own query to Shouto. "Are you courting her?"

You were surprised that Katsuki was so paranoid of every man that approached you, including one who saw them as friends. Shouto had set high standards for himself, he told you as much. There was no way Shouto would want you as his wife when he could have his choosing from the daughters of barons and princes...

"Yes, I am."

[that-was-anticlimactic]

22 with Zukka for the prompt list? Also hi :)

"Give me a brush. I'll fix your hair for you." + zukka

Zuko was angry.

He supposed that wasn’t that shocking—he was angry a lot—but the amount of genuine anger and frustration he was accumulating due to his hair, now that wasn’t fair nor normal.

It was stupid—he had to attend some dumb public event since he was the Fire Lord and stand at the side applauding politely, then say a few words. Really, he’d been through more stressful times in his life than that.

Even still, there was an hour left before he had to arrive, and he was getting ready in his chambers. Or, he was supposed to be getting ready. He was still in his sleeping robes, aggressively pulling a brush through his hair

Honestly, at this point, he was just beating his scalp.

No matter how carefully or slowly he ran the brush through his hair, it was still tangled. It still looked greasy, and even when he said “screw it” and just threw his hair in a top knot, he nearly chopped it all off because it looked terrible. The bumps at the top of his head were so large it looked like he hadn’t even brushed his hair in the first place!

Logically, he knew that his dad was far far far away right now and would in no way, shape, or form be attending the same event or see said event, but he couldn’t block out Ozai’s voice in his head telling him how big of a disappointment he was due to the state of his hair.

Zuko grunted, throwing the brush across the room and leveling the cursed object with a furious pout. It’s what the brush deserved.

“Hey, Zuko! I can’t decide whether I should wear my cobalt robes or my lapis robes. I know you don’t think there’s a difference, but I swear to you—are you okay?”

The angelic sound of Sokka’s voice caused Zuko’s face to shift from fury to a soft smile. He turned around, his fingers twitching when the brush left his sight because it needed to know how angry he was, and shot Sokka what he hoped was a soft look.

His boyfriend was also wearing his evening robes, something far too casual for the event they were attending, and it took everything in him to focus his gaze on Sokka’s face rather than his shoulder where the fabric was slowly slipping off.

In his hands were two tunics which absolutely looked the exact same color-wise, but he just chalked that up to Sokka being picky about his wardrobe (no, he wouldn’t acknowledge that he was unsure whether it was that or the fact that he couldn’t see properly out of his left eye).

Sokka’s hair looked impeccable, tied tightly in a wolf tail, much unlike his own.

“Sunshine?”

Oh, he’d been staring, hadn’t he?

“Sorry,” he mumbled, running a hand over his face and collapsing onto his bed. “I’m just trying to get ready.”

He watched as Sokka’s eyes flickered between Zuko’s tapping foot, his hair, and the brush on the floor behind him.

His face morphed into understanding and he carefully draped his clothes over the back of Zuko’s vacant chair, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Give me a brush. I’ll fix your hair for you,” he said gently, nudging Zuko’s foot with his own.

“Get it yourself, Lazy,” Zuko muttered, but either way he shifted his position so he could roll onto the other side of the bed and reached, swiping the brush off the floor and tossing the cursed object at his boyfriend.

Sokka poked at him with his finger (and Zuko tried not to melt at the way Sokka tapped in patterns of three—it was the nonbender’s favorite type of pattern, he did everything in three’s. It became Zuko’s favorite number as their relationship developed and became not only a form of comfort for Sokka when he had his bad days, but also for him) until he got the signal and turned so his back was to Sokka.

“Your hair is very pretty,” Sokka remarked, gently grabbing a small chunk of his hair and starting at the edges.

“It’s greasy.”

“No, it’s really not. You know I don’t like touching greasy hair. I wouldn’t touch it if it was greasy.”

They both knew that was a lie—Zuko’s hair was an exception.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” Sokka asked, twisting the edges of the now brushed section of Zuko’s hair while separating it into a second section.

“My hair.”

“I got that.”

“It’s not… it’s not perfect…”

And that was it, wasn’t it? The event wasn’t that big of a deal—in fact, it was so insignificant to him that he wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was, but when his hair wouldn’t work the way he wanted, he started getting stiff and on edge.

If his dad saw him like this… Zuko couldn’t help but shudder at the mere thought.

“Babe, Sunshine, light of my life,” Sokka began and oh how Zuko practically melted, “you don’t need to be perfect.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Zuko shot back. “But I do have to be perfect. Everyone’s watching me—I’m the Fire Lord! If I don’t look perfect then…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to focus solely on the feeling of Sokka’s fingers in his hair.

“Oh, I get it,” Sokka said softly. “This isn’t about your hair, is it, baby?”

Zuko just sniffed.

“I know I’m not the best person to talk to about being okay with things being imperfect, but something I’ve begun to learn over the years is that there’s never a time when everything’s perfect, no matter how hard you plan… or brush…”

Zuko chuckled.

“But something that you can always count on is me being there; you know I’ll always be there, right? Because I will be,” he continued. At this point, Zuko was certain Sokka had set the brush down and was just using his fingers, which was somehow more comforting despite the slightly uncouth method.

“Besides, you’re already perfect to me. You don’t need to try and please everyone else anymore. Quite frankly, they’re all idiots.”

Zuko laughed. It was quiet and more half-hearted than anything, but it was a laugh all the same. He could feel water beginning to pool in his eyes, and Zuko let out a choking gasp. “Sorry.”

“Shush, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I just… I saw my hair and it wouldn’t—it wasn’t right and I didn’t know what would—“

“Shhh.” Sokka coaxed him into silence, purposefully taking deep breaths along the way to remind him to breathe (which was really helpful since he had forgotten).

“It’s just me. No one else is here—he’s not here. It’s just you and it’s me. And I, personally, think you have the prettiest hair in the entire world, even when it’s greasy.”

Oh, what did Zuko do to deserve someone like Sokka in his life?

Sokka stopped running his fingers through his hair, and Zuko felt the bed shift as Sokka adjusted his position. The nonbender flung his arms around Zuko’s neck, holding him close.

“You’re going to have the best public appearance in the history of pubic appearances today,” Sokka informed him, and Zuko hummed, allowing himself to fall back into Sokka’s embrace. “And if anyone complains about your hair, they may have a run in with my boomerang.”

“Thank you.”

Zuko opened his eyes, allowing his face to fall into its natural frown, but prayed to Agni that Sokka could see the appreciation and adoration in his eyes.

He slowly rose, pushing himself off of his bed and turning so he could see his reflection in the mirror.

His hair it… it wasn’t bad. But it still made his muscles clench and his breath hitch. There were some strands tumbling out of his top knot, falling out of rhythm with the rest of his demeanor.

It was so insignificant, but that’s what Zuko thought when he was younger.

(There was nothing insignificant when it came to Ozai.)

He felt more than saw Sokka stand beside him, and together they gazed in the mirror.

Despite knowing he was being self-conscious, Zuko found himself biting his lip in anticipation as Sokka looked at him. He knew Sokka didn’t think he was disfigured or that his hair was an awful mess, but that wasn’t enough prevent his heart from racing and his fists at the ready to raise to block his—

“You’re beautiful,” Sokka breathed, his eyes so wide that Zuko thought they could contain the depths of the entire ocean, encompass the entirety of the night sky. What made his face flush was that the stars in Sokka’s eyes were directed on him—focused solely and only on him.

“Oh.”

It pained him that that was all he could say. Sokka could compliment him like it was nothing, but Zuko couldn’t do any more than reply with one word.

Sokka frowned and no, that wouldn’t do. Zuko didn’t like when he frowned—more so, he hated being the reason his boyfriend’s smile vanished.

“Are you still…” He cut himself off, his neck jerking and lips pursing, then he waved his hands around for emphasis, as a way to finish the sentence.

Shamefully, Zuko nodded.

Without warning, Sokka grabbed hold of Zuko’s hands and placed them on the top of his head. He intertwined their fingers, almost as if they were holding hands, then started moving them.

For a moment, Zuko held his breath because what was this idiot doing? His hair was the definition of perfection—no strands were loose, he looked regal, the blue and red beads in his hair were perfectly placed… and here Sokka was, guiding Zuko’s hands around his head and messing it up.

Zuko tried to pull away—tried to free his hands from Sokka’s grasp because they couldn’t do this—they couldn’t mess up is hair! The Fire Nation was already terribly critical towards Sokka, being Water Tribe and all, not to mention being the Fire Lord’s boyfriend meant more publicity than either of them were comfortable with… the public would tear Sokka apart if he walked out with messy hair.

“What are you doing?” Zuko hissed through grit teeth, still trying to yank his hands away to no avail. “You’re messing up your hair—I’m messing up your hair!”

Sokka ignored him, but Zuko couldn’t find it in himself to glower at his idiot because his tongue was sticking out of his mouth the way it did when he was concentrating and it was so authentically Sokka and so adorable and—

“There,” Sokka said, interrupting his thoughts. “Now we match!”

It was then that Zuko realized his hands had been released, and he clutched them close to his chest defensively.

Sokka was cheekily grinning at him, his eyes shining, and his hair… oh. His hair was a travesty. His wolf tail became undone and half of it was falling out. The top of his head looked like someone build hundreds of tiny bridges with the way his hair had been tugged at.

As terrible as it was, Zuko was basking in the absolute adorableness of his boyfriend.

“It may not be perfect,” Sokka started, locking hands with Zuko once more, “but we’re doing it together. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Penguin.”

Sokka leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Okay, then: should I wear the cobalt or lapis tunic? I feel like lapis is a more luscious color, but cobalt brings out my eyes…”

Most of what Sokka was saying made absolute no sense to him, but Zuko knew Sokka so he knew that his feeling weren’t being brushed aside. Sokka was just trying to distract him—to make him laugh.

So, Zuko sat back down and listened to Sokka ramble about the pros and cons of each color, even though they had to be at the event in half an hour.

Sokka was right (he always was)—it was never about his hair (maybe it was a little about his hair, whenever Ozai was involved, it was about everything). He spent the majority of his life trying to live up to the standards of everyone else—his hair had to be perfect, his back had to be perfectly straight…

The Fire Nation thrived on the idea of perfection. So much so that Zuko knew if Sokka had been born and raised here, he would have been isolated or forced into muteness due to his imperfections, or his tics. It was a terrible thought that was proved true by the looks he saw shot his boyfriend’s way by some elders—from the way that some people would address Zuko rather than Sokka when they were together or ask Zuko why he hadn’t fixed Sokka or what places he took Sokka to to do so.

But they weren’t imperfections, Sokka’s tics. Zuko reminded him countless times that they were just a part of who he was, something that made him as special as he was. And he supposed that’s what Sokka was trying to show him… though through his unorthodox and irritatingly charming methods.

Zuko never did fix his hair for the evening—he wanted to continue matching with Sokka.

[this can be seen as a mini prequel to threshold of eternity hence why zuko gives azula the advice about how to 'handle' her hair and toe kind of inspired this one hehe]

'101 ways to say i love you' prompts

[hannah-the-red-head]

A Third Submission to the Imagines Society”

(League of villains meets an Autistic child with a quirk that is the definition of too good for this world and then some)

You were a tiny thing when Twice, Toga and Magne stumbled across you at the park, staring intently at what looked like your shoes with your back turned.

Magne summarized that you were most likely around 5 or 6 years old based on the kindergarten uniform you wore, the adorable hat hanging on your back while your (h/l), (h/s) (h/c) was out and about. Usually, the tree would lose interest after a while and go about their merry way.

But there was something about you that made them stay, Toga’s curiosity getting the best of her as she skipped over to where you were on your knees, she then peeked over a shoulder to see you staring in awe at butterfly that was softly moving it’s wings while resting on the petals of a blossom planted in the nearby garden.

It was one that she had never seen before, well at least in real life, but the sandy blonde remembered that she had once seen it on the internet somewhere.

It was a monarch butterfly, and last she or anyone else knew, the species were hanging by a thread and close to extinction over the last 56 years. She had admit that the pictures were close to nothing compared to the real thing as Toga watched with starry eyes at how the orange colors splashed with black and white glowed in the sunlight.

Magne herself, followed by Twice then decided to follow toga’s lead when she began to giggle like an actual schoolgirl instead of the blood obsessed vampire they knew and loved. The two peeking at the sight of both you and Toga being the surprising perches of a collection of what looked to be more Monarch butterflies that seemingly appeared out of no where.

And one of them was perched right on the tip of Toga’s nose.

Meanwhile, you had taken notice that you had a butterfly watching buddy the second you felt her crouched down next to you, your glowing (e/c) eyes staring at her with curiosity before deciding that she was interesting enough for you to deem her harmless, despite not knowing the truth.

Because in your young and innocent head, anyone that appreciated butterflies as much as you did was a good person and/or possible friend in your book.

She looked at you when she felt your eyes on her and gave you a big smile, which from what you learned meant that she was happy. So that meant that she likes you too. You smiled widely back and a series of bright rainbow colored balls of light lifted themselves off your little form, your quirk creating more butterflies from them while your new friend’s eyes sparkled.

Your quirk was called Wonder, the specialist who gave it that name having been inspired by the same emotion felt after witnessing you use your quirk at first hand to bring a rat back to life after it had been killed by a mousetrap, and later on when they returned back to the room to see that it had been filled with butterflies flying beautifully above them.

Nowadays, you mainly used your quirk to create butterflies.

Why?

Because butterflies made you happy, they made you calm, they took your worries away... and watching them was akin to what your therapist at the orphanage called stimming, your hand movements if you easily became overwhelmed resembling a butterfly flapping it’s delicate wings.

You were also fond of anything that felt like the texture closest to what you thought butterfly wings looked. However, this obsession was also the reason why your were ostracized by the other children, ignored completely by them at the worst despite how hard the workers at the orphanage tried to explain what your condition was.

You didn’t understand why the workers had the need to get the other kids to like you, if you wanted friends, you’d get some yourself on your own.

And you never understood why you had to take speech therapy, wasn’t writing in your notebook enough? You hated loud noises, they scared away things, things that are... nice.

Things like butterflies and rats and rabbits and deer, which meant that you couldn’t appreciate them anymore if they left.

So, why was there a need to make noise or let alone talk? You could never control how loud your voice was anyways. You didn’t care about how sometimes you overheard the caretakers at the orphanage whispered things about how alien you acted.

Which led to where you were now, little you having completely forgotten that you were separated from the other children heading back towards the orphanage after school had finished when you eyes spotted a flower that looked familiar until your quirk manifested the butterfly.

They sounded as if you were broken as a human.

When in reality you weren’t, you weren’t broken and needed to be fixed. At first it made you believe those words, but the moments where your eyes caught onto anything relating to those paper thin wings that radiated with the colors of the rainbow, you’re mind went to an alternate world where those who spoke about your strangeness were nonexistent.

It was then that you remembered seeing the same flower from the picture book at your school, the pink and green flora being the type of chosen roost for the orange, white and black insect to rest on if they got tired.

You never knew how much time passed when you felt your new friend’s presence near you until you turned around silently to see a schoolgirl older than your smiling peacefully at your creation, who then smiled at you.

Smiles meant something good, right?

Your quirk activated instinctually, your subconscious telling you to make your friend happy again by creating more things that made her happy, like how butterflies made you happy. You watched as the manifested insects flew over to the girl and rested on her shoulders, two nestled on the wild hair of her twin buns and one on her nose, the sensation of it’s delicate wings tickling her skin bringing a giggle out of her.

You copied her, giggling as well as you knew that laughing is what friends did. The exchange between you two led to a pair of others appearing behind your friend, the both of them watching in awe at how gentle you were.

Meanwhile in their perspective, Twice and big sis Magne were in awe.

This was a side of Toga that the pair had never seen before, so their interest in you grew steadily as they approached you both, seeing that the number of butterflies had grown the closer the became, the same orbs of light appearing to change into other species before the skies above the park had clouds of multicolored wings flying above like a piece of artwork created by nature.

It felt like a blessing to witness a sight like this, a much desired peace accomplished after so many months of being on the run from heroes and the police.

Twice jumped up and began to comically twirl about among the flocks of winged bugs, his splitting personalities having been silenced by the Nirvana he felt surrounding him, only stopping when he heard a few giggles left your mouth while you tried to keep up with him and Toga’s free styling dances without a care in the world.

The four of you not caring that you were getting strange looks and even scowls from those who crossed your paths in order to get a better look at the butterflies conjured by your beautiful quirk.

By the time the sun had set, you and your new friends had collapsed onto the grass, laughing in between breaths from all the fun you shared in those hours of innocent fun.

And you were the one to give that sense of childhood purity of fun back to them without realizing it. In your mind, you were happy that you had finally made friends by yourself as with a kick of your short legs you sat up and turned to the one closest to you, a tall woman with sunglasses and short hair the other two called “Big Sis Mag”.

You poked her cheek and she turned her face towards yours. Taking a deep breath, you decided to try something new that you hadn’t done or were comfortable with.

You: (Yy...yourrr n....nnamme!).... (Your Name)!

It was hard at first, being silent for most of your childhood being the reason as to why you sounded like a newborn attempting to say their first word. But the pride you felt as you pointed to yourself when you said your name clearly on the second try was amazing.

“Big Sis’” eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you understood why she was shocked as the only noises you made were giggles and squeals.

You: (Your name)!.... B-big sissy... Mmmmmag! Fr...friends! T-t-too...Toga! Fri..ends! Twi...Twice! Friends!

All three had unknown expressions present while you gave them a wide toothy grin that you had never given anyone except for your mama.

Twice: I think I’m gonna cry.... No, I’m not! Grow a pair!

Twice cartoonishly wept through his mask, tears that would only exist within an Animé pouring from the eyes of his black and grey mask before stopping almost immediately, his face changing to that of a stoic man drawn in comic books.

Toga just smiled at Twice, before a weak tug on her cardigan pulled her attentions to you, your arms held out wide and with an excited glow to you. You always remembered the warmth your mother’s hugs were growing up, how safe and loved you felt when your adorable self tackled her leg in a weak koala hug before she pulled you into her own arms.

Toga: Oh does (y/n)-chan want a hug?

You nodded and tackled the blonde, arms wrapped around her neck with you cheek pressed against hers, something your mother called “cuddle bumps” as you hated it when someone kissed you.

You: C-cu-cuddle bu-bumps!

Twice: I want cuddle bumps! No, I don’t that’s weird!

You nuzzled your cheek against hers, the teenage girl internally squealing and hugging you back as she was overcome with a sense of some maternal need to protect you and the light your little self emanated, both figuratively and literally as your quirk caused you to glow a warm pink color.

Toga playfully stuck out her tongue towards him, when an idea came to her.

—————

Shigaraki: And the most logical thing that you could ever think of in that moment.... was to bring this brat home?!

Toga’s cheeks puffed up as she hugged your little form from behind while you fiddled with your quirk, a manifested butterfly perched in the palm of your hand. You loved the feeling of your big sister’s soft cardigan as she hugged you.

Toga: Of course, Shiggy! I mean they’re an orphan left behind by those “caretakers”, we even waited to see if anyone would come looking.

Twice: Yeah, it was so nerve wracking! I was bored beyond belief....

Shigaraki let out an aggravated sigh, knowing that you had wormed your way into the hearts of the most in the league, Dabi being the first to cave when you used your quirk to soothe the pain in his burnt skin. He didn’t know why, but the fire quirk user’s eyes softened when you gazed up at his skin and your smile faded, a look of genuine worry that he possibly never experienced in some time as your tiny hand went up to hold his hand with the both of yours.

The rest of the already shocked league watching as an aura glowed from your small form, the glow then moving up your arms and finally covering Dabi in the glow before then pulling away into orbs that popped like soap bubbles filled with fireflies.

Dabi reacted in a way that not even he could describe as all the unbearable burning pain his scars brought him disappeared, a strange surge of.... calm washed over him.

It was the kind of calm that one would feel when a powerful storm dissipates, allowing the warm sun to bathe the earth once again. 

And it was the type of calm that brought a heavy exhale out of Dabi, almost as if he had finally learned to breathe, tears falling down his cheeks and startling him, a hand shooting up to touch his wet face and pulling it away to see what was falling from his eyes.

This... made the tears fall harder.

Dabi had long forgotten what it felt like to cry actual salt water tears instead of blood. A relieved upwards tilt pulled at his lips as he fell to his knees before you, no words exchanged, just glances and a gentle grip of your joined hands.

You: No pain?

Your concern overweighed your struggling speech, your free hand raising up to hover next to his cheek. He chuckled softly, allowing you to place your hands onto his face.

Dabi: No pain. All better.

Your quirk was befitting for such a gentle, caring and kind being as you.

To put it simply, you could restore a person’s injuries, negative outlook on life due to traumatic experiences, and even their lost sense of morality via through your touch, being in your presence, or even by witnessing your creations first hand.

This was your power, a quirk that purified the evil living within this cruel world.

You could literally restore a person or persons lost sense of morality, your quirk changing a sociopathic killer into a saint seeking redemption just by spending an hour with you. 

Your quirk also allowed you to heal any kind of wound or cure any illness, it could even replace missing limbs and the like as long as you kept your focus.

And it was meant to be protected.

Which is why you were taken into the protection of the league of villains, the only group of people who were the first to actually care for you after your mama’s passing, and didn’t speak badly of you or your condition.

Because they didn’t mind that you were autistic, they didn’t see you as broken or wrong. How did you know that they didn’t ostracize you?

They told you.

Twice: You, broken? Ha, that’s fresh! At least you don’t have more than one voice in your head...

Toga: My quirk needs me to drink the blood of the person i’m going to transform into in order for it to work, and because of that, I was pushed away by everyone for how creepy it made me look.

Magne: Anyone would be proud to call you their kid with a drop of a hat. So what if your special needs, it doesn’t make you any less human, sweetie.

Dabi didn’t say anything when you asked, in your broken speech, if you were broken. Instead, he just ruffled your hair and let you wear his jacket all day.

Compress: This world is filled with imperfections, but who is to say that imperfections are ugly and unwanted. To me, imperfections are where true beauty lies as it shows that despite their flaws, they try again and again to make themselves better.

Spinner: Kid, I am a walking talking lizard with pink hair and a desire to follow Stain’s path to create a society where only those who embody the traits of true heroes like All Might are allowed to become heroes.

You didn’t know how to react as he continued.

Spinner: If anything, you are the most normal out of all of us, so don’t go hating on yourself because you’re brain is wired differently. You’re perfect just the way you are.

Magne: Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say, Spinner!

Spinner: BIG SIS MAGNE?!?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!

Toga: Enough to know that you give the best pep talks!~

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

I once interpreted c!Wilbur's limbo as being symbolic of tunnel vision, of single-mindedness, of a belief so fervent you can only see the world and your place in it as stark black-and-white.

He stands on a platform, waiting for a train that will never come, salvation that he hasn't earned and never will. A train can only move forwards and backwards along its set pathway, and he knows which way his own ride travels. After all, he is evil, and so everything he touches must be evil. And Ghostbur is good, because everyone loved him, which must mean he is the "better" version of himself. So he believes.

But here is the plain truth. On November 16, c!Wilbur led the Pogtopians to reclaim their home. He handed his presidency to c!Tommy, and passed it on again to c!Tubbo when the former refused to accept power. He fulfilled his end of the deal with c!Dream, that he would send his country up in flames no matter what. His destruction gave c!Techno the opportunity to do the same, to turn L'manberg into a smoking crater and create chaos as they had both desired. And when his father arrived just in time to watch this unfold, he pleaded for his own death by telling him that the crowd of onlookers was calling for his execution.

Call it what you will; cruelty, spite, sacrifice, despair. Even in the depths of his self-proclaimed villain arc, even while selfishly declaring that if he couldn't have L'Manberg then no one could have it, c!Wilbur still gave his people the story he thought they wanted.

But he was wrong. These things weren't what his people wanted.

They just wanted a home. They just wanted peace. They just wanted to be listened to. They just wanted their leader, their comrade, their friend, their father, their son, their brother back. They saw something good in him before he ended his own life, and they loved him for it.

c!Wilbur was so much more than black-or-white, but he could only see his own role in the play: the villain, the great evil, the cause of everyone's suffering including his own. And so he damned himself to the unchanging, hellish emptiness he thought he deserved.

But then, he received another chance.

(But then, he wasted that chance.)

But then, he heard a friend tell him that he had goodness inside him.

(But then, he watched that friend die because he tried too hard to prove it.)

But then, he looked into his brother's eyes and saw so much love.

(But then, he looked into his brother's eyes and saw the same fear, and pain, and anger, and grief that he saw before his death.)

And he took that first step. He learned how to cherish life again. He tried to make amends. He made new allies. He started new projects. He seized this new opportunity, seized the potential he squandered in his first life.

(And he squandered it again.)

Now, moreso than tunnel vision, what is most terrifying about that train station is stagnancy. c!Wilbur was trapped between those gloomy smoke-stained walls, bordered on either side by empty tracks, leading into tunnels he can never follow and escape from. No sounds ever reach inside, no light ever offers relief or a change in perspective, no other passengers give him a smile or a gentle word. He waits alone, helpless unless someone comes to rescue him yet again. He cannot save himself there, no matter how much he claws at the walls.

He believes he needs forgiveness.

(And he needs to know that he deserves to move on with or without the presence of a savior or a follower, that there is always a way to go forward as long as he still draws breath, that the soul's journey doesn't follow a perfect predestined railway, that his story can twist and turn in vibrant color, that he is not a hero or a villain, that he is loved and cared for no matter how many times he stumbles, even if his past is never forgotten, because the unfinished symphony is no less meaningful for being unfinished, that someone will hear those half-formed discordant echoes and find something beautiful and undeniably human within - )

He needs to see himself as he is - no hero or villain - and give that man the grace to keep growing.

[stay-midnight]

Foolish - The supposed valentine special

Lee Felix x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.7K Words

a/n: aaaaaaaa, the delay for this is too long 😖 i changed the concept of it from a valentines date to an anniversary date instead, hopefully it’s okay hhshs. I cannot it was supposed to be soft but somehow i made the smut escalate in the end. Tbh, I was expecting balcony sex—

Triggers: Explicit Smut, Fluffy as fuck I guess—, It’s soft.

Kinks/Warnings: Soft Dom Felix, Sub Male Reader, Anal Sex, Safe Sex, Licking, Teasing, Nipple Play, Nipple Biting, A lot of foreplay, Multiple Positions, Mentions of Fisting, Make-Out Sessions, A lot of Praise, Consensual.

Felix’s hands were getting sweaty and how fast he was tapping his thigh, he was getting nervous by the minute as the clock’s hands were moving closer to 8 PM — the time of your arrival. He licked his dry lips every half a minute as his head kept turning towards the door as if it was about to swing open. He brushed his blond hair back, taking a shallow breath.

You see, Felix prepared for one week for this, too make it as special as possible for your anniversary day.

1 year.

He loved, cherished, kissed you a bunch of times, and did a lot more with you in that one year of you and him being together.

Felix would do a lot more in even more years to come. In the future, he’ll propose to you, maybe even adopt children if you ever want. He just want to spend time with you, staring at you lovingly like a fool in love.

In the present now, though. He wants to enjoy this anniversary with you. He got his friends to decorate your shared apartment — the walls are decorated with colored paper and the pictures you collected throughout the years.

Frame by frame, all of them are important to you and him — Holding special memories that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

Felix felt his breath hitch as the door handle started turning. A profound mixture of excitement and nervousness built up in the pit of his stomach.

. . .

You were humming happily as you walked up the stairs of your apartment, the medium-sizedbag dangling from your fingers. You were frantic to spend time with Felix.

Today was your one year anniversary and thus you want to relieve all stress piled up from work and just spend quality time with your man.

Face-to-face with your apartment door, you turned the knob and found it wasn’t locked which made you raise your eyebrow in confusion. You turned the knob and swung it open.

Then petals of red roses fell in the front of your vision as a clear romantic music started playing. “Lixie?” you murmur, still a bit dizzy from the suprise.

After taking a moment to regain your thoughts, you noticed the picture littered across the walls of your apartment it was you and Felix.

Then finally, in all his beauty, Felix standed in the middle with the most warmest and cutest smile that seems to always set your world alight.

You suddenly felt some wetness at your cheeks and your vision suddenly becoming blurred due to the stream of tears just freely flowing down.

Felix saw the way you were crying and walked over to hug you, “Happy Anniversary, babe.” you snuggled your wet face into neck wetting his part of the shirt there.

“F— Fe, hng.... L-Lix. Th— Thankss.. for this..” you hiccuped as he pulled you away from his neck, then kiss the beads of tears falling from your eyes away.

“Shh, don’t cry, Y/N” He comforted, gently combing your hair. You smiled and clung to him like a koala as you felt every feeling of stress leaving your body.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him and he kissed back immediately, savouring the taste of your lips with passion.

Both of you perfectly molded with each other he finally slipped his tongue in your mouth, exploring your warm cavern.

Then he pulled away which made you whine, “Let’s continue that later~ but for now, let’s celebrate and eat.” he winked at his first statement then pointed at the table which had alot of food.

“Can we finish that much?” you said looking at the overloaded table.

He grinned, “We’ll give it to Changbin and the others as thankd for helping me decorate.”

You pouted and looked at the bag you had, “I only got you some strawberry cake for our anniversary...” you said, frowning.

“I’ll make it up to you...” you mumble wiping your tears away with your wrist, taking a sit down at the table then Felix sat next to you.

“You don’t have too... It still means alot to me that you’re here now.” he smiled sheepishly while you look away shyly.

“Still my gift is inferior than your suprise...”

“Any gift you give is in a high regard. Eat Y/N~ before I eat you~” he joked but there was a slight bit of truth in that. You hit his chest but he could tell how flustered you were.

“Cute....” he praised which in turn cause you to glare at him playfully as he gave you that a grin.

. . .

He reached out for your hand after eating to dance at the sound of the melodic, sweet music playing in the backround.

You look at him with love as both of you swayed along to the tune, Felix even spun you around like how people do during ballroom dances causing you to laugh as he catched you before spinning you back around to his caring embrace.

“I love you so much, Y/N...” he whispered against your ear.

You shivered at the sensation of his hot breath when he spoke, “I love you too, so so much....” you said back, turning your head to meet his caring gaze and his smile. He leaned towards you, connecting your lips as the music creased. You felt literal sparks flying across your body because of that.

You yawn as you pulled away from him, even though this was fun — You did just came back from work so you were tired and Felix now just noticed that.

He smiled before grabbing your hands and dragging you to your shared bedroom.

. . .

He pulled you on the king-sized bed which made you smile goofily as you laid there. You were still on your work clothes but nothing can be more comforting than being near with your loved one.

You liked skinship as much as he do, that’s probably why you fit together so much.

You rarely fought as well, most of it being teasing or playful fighting. Now that you remember, the only time he got mad when you didn't tell him that you were coming home late. He was angry, you were extremely tired. Instead of reasoning with him at that time, you fought fire with fire.

You always see him around the apartment since his work is a comic designer so he’s working at home, he barely leaves unless for jogging or grocery purposes.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Felix played with your hair. Combing and stroking it. You leaned in to his soft touch, sighing at the calming sensation.

You leaned your head back so you could look up at him and he was showing a cute smile which made you smile back at him as well.

You initiated a kiss suddenly, suprising him. He kissed back before pulling away then leaned back down again as if he couldn’t get enough of your lips.

. . .

It started with small pecks at each other, now turning into a deep make out session with him. As you felt your neck was about to break off any second now due to the uncomfortable position you were kissing him in — You flipped him over and straddled him before leaning back in, biting his bottom lip teasingly as his hands worked their way onto your buttocks, kneading it teasingly.

He groaned at the lip bite before he grabbed your waist and switched positions, with Felix on top of you — staring down at you with a mixture of lust and adoration.

“You’re so pretty and handsome...” he praised, raising your shirt slightly before leaning down and planting kisses down your tummy, slowling pushing it up while also trailing his lips upward to your chest — leaving a line of saliva.

You giggled silently at his praise before gasping at his warm lips making contact with your skin, a tingling and wet sensation was apparent on your torso as Felix was tasting you up.

He removed your shirt completely and slipped his hand down to wrap around your waist. He lifted you slightly before attaching his lips on your nipples, licking and sucking on it.

You sighed as you let your own body be taken over by pleasure, Felix hummed before moving to the other nipple, this time though — he clamped his teeth down on it causing you let out a moan at the numbing pain.

When he pulled away he was content to see your chest, wet from his saliva, and your nipples — hardened and puffy.

He looked down at you, lovingly with a hint of need and lust, you stare back at him with half-lidded eyes because of the pleasure he gives.

“You look so unreal...” You whisper with a smile, the sight of Felix’s face, basking in the moonlight shining from the window at your side, you brought up your hands and caressed his cheek, “What have I done to deserve you...” you added in a soft tone.

He smiles at your compliments, “You don’t have to do anything, because even I don’t deserve someone as loving and caring as you...” he whispered, grabbing your hand on his cheek and kissing the top of it.

You pull him down by the neck, kissing him in the lips, moving with such passion as he sneaked his tongue between your lips — tasting every corner and crevice inside your warm and wet cavern.

His other hand is trailing down to your pants unbuckling your belt skillfully with one hand, pulling it down ever so slowly.

You were being patient with his teasing but at some point your patience were wearing thin, cracks started to form on your small facade as you thrusted your hips up, hitting the bulge in his pants.

He grinned in satisfaction as finally he slowly unraveled you. He removed his shirt, making you stare at his sculptured body, drool forming at the sides of your mouth

Finally, he pulled your boxers down, making you hiss at the feeling of cold air hitting your erect dick. He hummed, giving it a few small strokes to get you more riled up.

“Lix, Lix... Please.. I want— No, I need you inside me already.....” you said with desire, letting out a shaky breath as he pulled his hand away.

“Well of course, what my love wants, he gets~” he said, reaching over the nightstand drawer to grab the blueberry-scented lube and condoms.

He undressed himself, removing his shorts and boxers — throwing it somewhere in the dim room.

You glimpsed at his hard cock with a pretty pink tip, you still wondered how he manage to fit that inside you, you looked away in embarrassment at your own circling thoughts.

He chuckled lowly at that, “You can look, Y/N... I already ruined you so many times with it so what’s the point of looking away, hm?” he teasingly spoke with a husky voice.

You look at him and poked your tongue out at him playfully, causing him to snicker before squirting some lube into his fingers and lifting your legs a bit for easier access to hole.

Felix then finally slowly inserted lubricated finger, watching in awe as your hole clenched around his finger, You let out a shaky sigh, Felix’s fingers weren’t exactly big, but it still feels good. One time, he even fitted his whole fist inside you due to how tiny his hand is.

He added another two fingers, knowing that you can take his short fingers plus, he also has a need to be inside you, to be connected to you.

He pulled his fingers out, then smiled at you breathing heavily at how much he played with your fluttering hole.

Felix placed on a ultra-thin condom after biting the packet open, aligning the tip of his cock against your rim — applying a small pressure but not inserting it just yet.

You let out an impatient whine as your hole tried to suck his dick in, pathetically clenching around the tip. “Please, please Lix~ No more teasing...” you babbled, trying to sink your hips down but failing as he grabbed it with a bruising grip.

He slowly then inserted it inside you with a chuckle, watching as your face relax and your mouth forming an “O” shape. Once he saw your face relax, he thrust up into the hilt, hitting your prostate dead-on — His hips flushed against your ass.

“Ah!” you gasp out, your own neglected cock felt like bursting any moment now on how full you were. You relax yourself for Felix to move more easier.

He then started pulling out, groaning lowly before thrusting back in, “So good, so good...” you breathed out, loving the way his cock drag against your wall everytime he thrusts in.

He started a medium pace, lewd and wet sounds surrounds the room, you close your eyes and wrap your hands around the top's neck.

“You feel so good, Y/N...” he said, breathing heavily as he pursued a faster pace, the sound of skin against skin was audibly clear now — the way his hips smack against your ass was driving you crazy.

He pulls out for a bit and you let out a sound of disappointment before he asked you to flip over and you followed his command, going on all fours.

Felix shoves his cock right back in, you moaning loudly. He hits your prostate multiple times before using his other hand to slide his hand to your chest, pinching the hard bud of your nipple hard, he laughs shakily as you screamed at that.

You felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as his hand roamed your inner thighs, flicking your tip teasingly before finally wrapping his hand around your hard cock, jerking it off messily and out of pace.

You didn’t know anymore, you rocked your hips back and forth — you didn’t know if you wanted to meet his hard and precise thrusts or or to buck against his hand wrapped around your base, you let out wordless whines and unidentified babbles that Felix wanted to coo at.

Felix saw that your knees were quivering, so he decided to change positions again, this time you were speared on his cock as if it was your throne, your back flushed against his sweaty chest.

This was one of your favourite positions as Felix held you close to him, increasing the feeling of sweet intimacy between the both of you as he impaled you up and down his cock.

You moaned as he hit your abused and swollen prostate for the umpteenth time, before you turned your head to meet his, sharing a hungry but a much needed kiss.

Drool dripped down your chin as your aching cock uselessly bobbed up and down in time with his thrusts, you felt lightheaded as you didn’t even realize you came, spilling on your sheets as it dripped down from the tip — your mouth releasing a drawn-out weak moan.

Felix’s thrusts turned sloppily as he saw your red tip spurt out white ropes and the sporadic clenching, he was close too.. After a few more minutes of thrusting into you and overstimulating you, he came inside the condom in a deep groan.

Felix only held you tighter against him, both of your chests heaving up and down at the tiredness. Slowly, he started pulling out of you before laying down on the bed slowly as you seemed too out of it.

He threw the used condom at the small trashbin after tying it at the side of your bed. He went to the bathroom to get some towels momentarily to clean you up.

He also got a small sheet of fabric to cover the cum-stained bed cover.

Once he saw your eyes turned more normal than the dilation it had earlier, he smiled “Good?” he asked in a heart-warming gaze.

You nodded, “Very good...” you smiled as he wiped your lubed rim and around it carefully.

“I really love you...” you said with a giggle at the end.

“I love me too~” he teased.

“Felix~!” you whined, crossing your arms around your chest.

He chuckled before going closer to you and connecting your lips, “I love you..” he mumbles sweetly against your ear.

You hummed in great appreciation, reeling him down to cuddle in his bare chest — to which he complied, combing your hair.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Y/N.” Felix breathed out, smiling as you fell in a tired sleep.

[danddymaro]

Sweet Annoyance | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Rohan's used to being alone, so maybe he doesn't know how to properly deal with the reader.

Reader Insert // The reader is brought into the world without any memories or recollection of the past, this makes it easier + It's easy to assume wild shit like this wouldn't happen to Rohan. (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ﾉ”

Flashbacks are in italics: Example

Thoughts are italics  in quotes: ‘Example’

Wordcount:   2735

Sweet Annoyance

She silently stood by his side, glancing down at his work with Wonder, truly amazed at his genius, finding every graceful flick his wrist performed to be awestriking. And if that wasn't enough, she was even more enthralled by the sight of his vigorous movements as he moved with more viciousness, his every stroke somehow becoming even more precise and keen during then.

'Wow,' she thought with a soft breath that could have easily been mistaken with a little gasp.

She was amazed a human could draw with such elegance and perfection. Much more, she was astonished at how focused he could be, his vibrant eyes practically glowing with fierceness, enough so that she was certain that if they found their way to hers in that passionate state, she'd be struck stupid.

‘He’s strange,’ She told herself, ‘ But all the same, he’s captivating,’ She added, knowing that there was very little that could compare to his magnetism.

'He's really amazing,' She surmised, having come to the conclusion herself, all  by simply observing him.

Once again he felt a pair of eyes land on him, causing an involuntary shiver to course through him as he felt the presence near.

"...Is there anything you need?" he muttered lowly, before drawing in a low breath, his left hand's finger rimming the cup of warm tea before him whilst his right was still occupied with holding his pen upright, the inky tip hovering over the blank page that lay before him.

"...Besides of course leaving me this," he added while speaking in the same, low tone that was touched by a graze of annoyance.

'I didn't ask for it, ' he thought to himself, 'but nonetheless...it is a kind gesture,' he continued on, knowing that after all, he wasn't going to reject it, but, then again, it wasn't like he was going to praise her for it either.

'-It's not like I asked her,' He stubbornly thought to himself while dragging his index finger down the side of the cup, soon meeting the surface of the desk, tapping it with contemplation.

'However, I will admit...She's undeniably sweet.' He determined, having spent enough time around her to conclude it with certainty, 'Perhaps to a fault,' He went on, growing weary of the attentiveness she displayed towards him.

‘I mean, she could have just left this behind and preoccupied herself with something else,’ He thought to himself, ‘ Honestly, does she think these are conditions for me to work under?’ He thought while irked.

'With her here... staring at me like that...' He went on, trying not to think much about it, ‘- I mean, doesn’t she have better things to do then bother me?’ He wondered languidly, craning his head back to momentarily gaze at her.

Shaking her head she sported a soft, uncertain smile,

"That should be it..but,” She started while leaning back on her heels, rocking back in forth in a way that made her seem childish, and in a sense, cute.

“ You've been in here all day," she answered him, and all the while his eyes were stuck to her, his sharp gaze narrowed to her little figure as it fidgeted.

"um...and ...I….well...," She mumbled incoherently as she shifted uncomfortably, a small huff then being released as she tried to continue, but obviously lacking the confidence.

"Alright then ?" he slowly said back, "Well, If there is nothing else-" he started, cut off as she spoke again,

"Rohan, Are you hungry?" She asked him, soon stepping closer into his workspace as she asked the question, and he could tell that it was the one she wanted to ask before.

There was a sweet upturn to the corners of her lips that was not only genuine and sweet but relieved as she finally let the words escape,

" I can try and make you something....anything really," she insisted, her (e/c) colored eyes seeming to twinkle with anticipation.

" That won't be necessary," he said softly, his entire body now pointed to hers, and by then the pen in his hand had escaped his grasp, lying forgotten on the desk as he watched her.

' She does that so much,' he thought to himself while watching the teasing, little color that lay beneath her (s/c) skin surfacing yet again, and during then her lips begged for attention, the little nibble she executed giving them a more rosy color, enticing him.

Unblinking, he leaned out from his chair slightly, ' and it's so intriguing... so memorizing.' he mused, involuntarily taking a bite of his own lower lip.

‘I can’t help but wonder if they feel just as tender as they look’ He told himself, contemplating on whether or not her mouth was as soft as it looked, despite the abuse she repeatedly forced upon the flesh.

His body gravitated towards her even more, and before he knew it, he slid off of the seat, soon falling to his knees, his two palms laying flat onto the ground as he caught himself.

“Rohan! Are you okay?” She said with worry, immediately flailing onto her own knees, reaching out to him before he stopped her, his voice snarky and full of bite,

“Don’t you have anything better to do than pester me!?” He asked her, watching as her face immediately shifted into surprise, then downheartedness.

“I’m sorry,” She said with a halfhearted smile, slowly standing before she took a step back,

“I didn’t mean to bother you so much,” She said earnestly, having wanted to show him gratitude with her little acts, not having taken into account that until then, he’d been happy being on his own.

“- I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” She told him, “And I wanted to find a way to thank you,” She admitted, “ I’m sorry, I should have known. After all, your work is very important to you. "

" So, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him before she traced her steps back, soon finding her way back to the door just as he finally composed himself.

"Again...I'm sorry Rohan," She said while giving him one last short live glance.

By then the man sat back on his usual seat, his eyes tightly closed as he knit his brows together in a show of frustration the woman had caught sight of before she left.

‘ - I suppose I had it coming,’ She thought to herself as she released a soft, low-spirited sigh, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling while she stood outside of the quiet room the male currently occupied.

‘I have been bothering him far too much.’ She mused with the same downheartedness, yet understanding his exasperation. 

‘But I don’t know anyone or anything, but him.’ She added with a slight grimace, knowing that her neediness to please him came from a clingy part of her that had attached itself to him.

It’d been three weeks since she first woke, finding herself just outside his home, eyeing the world that surrounded her with distraught, because she remembered nothing from a few moments ago. The only thing she had to go by was what she caught sight of, and it was unsettling.

During then Rohan eyed the strange, unsuspecting woman with narrowed eyes, activating his stand with haste, not taking any chances on the trespasser, and putting his stand to work in order to find out everything he needed about her.

“Now...you little trespasser, let’s read your manuscript,” He muttered deviously, a little satisfied curl to his lips lasting only half a second before his expression morphed into one of utter surprise.

To his chagrin, she was all empty pages, something he hadn’t known was possible.

He skimmed over every page, finding everything he gazed at to be unwritten white, from start to finish.

“Impossible…” He murmured, a hand circling her wrist, the other holding the back of her head as he looked down at her slumped form while inspecting her,

“There’s nothing to read,” He said aloud, his eyes growing even more as he saw her begin to stir, her (e/c) colored eyes staring up at him with surprise, and at that, his breath hitched, the involuntary halt in breath covered up by a forced cough.

“Where am I?” She asked him with saddened (e/c) colored drops, and he swore there were unshed tears within the glimmering orbs,

“Who… Who are you?” She wondered aloud, not knowing who the man was.

“- Who am I?” She proceeded to ask, and during then he had no answer, nothing he could offer her that could give her comfort beside a look of pity and confusion.

It became easy for him to offer her solace, his curiosity being all the reason he had to let her stay,

‘Strange girl...You’re an empty book, and yet, I’m curious to skim my eyes over you, again and again, to try and find something new,’ He mused, for a strange reason drawn to her, like the opposite ends of two magnets.

His left hand trailed over to grab his cup when he felt nothing but air, the empty space bringing an immediate frown onto his features,

"Hmm..."

He craned his head back, looking behind him to see the (h/c) haired woman gone.

It had become normal to have her come around, carrying In something for him he'd end up drinking or eating later along the day as he worked, so naturally, he expected her there.

“ she hasn’t shown up since this morning,” he told himself, knowing that the last he saw of her was during the early hours of the day.

" Strange," he muttered, tapping his finger onto the desk’s surface while pressing his lips together, his turquoise eyes glued to the doorway, waiting for her to walk through.

He could feel his mouth water, lingers of sweetness present as he craved another snack, and very faintly, his stomach rumbled.

“That damned girl…” he muttered to himself.

‘She’s conditioned me to such a thing,’ He thought dryly, ‘And now, she’s nowhere to be found,’ He added with the same dull inner tone.

Again, his pen fell, and his finger tapped into the desk as he waited, soon growing annoyed as the time progressed.

“Alright,” he said aloud, having waited long enough.

“She stops all my progress, and now I have to go in search of her,” he added whilst rolling his eyes, looking up at the ceiling with annoyance,

“But….I suppose a break is in order,” He decided while slumping his shoulders, hanging his head. "So, it's not in bad timing."

He moved past his own bedroom, soon coming face to face with hers, finding it shut.

His knuckles then lightly tapped her room’s door before he addressed her, “(F/n).” he said firmly, receiving no answer in return, the very fact irking him furthermore.

“let me guess, “ He then muttered, “You’re angry at me, aren't you?” He asked her as he leaned on the door, his back pressed to it as he spoke.

“You’re angry at me, and now you give me the silent treatment,” he theorized.

“And the only thing that will draw you out is a heartfelt apology from me, right?” He went on, shaking his head at the thought.

‘I don’t have anything to apologize for though, so what do you expect from me?

Some, false, conjured up plea that will only stroke your ego...that’s all I can imagine,’ He went on.

The silence ensued and he tapped his knuckles against the door yet again, doing so more firmly,

‘Just who does she think she is?’ he wondered with annoyance.

“Hey! Come out here already!” He said with the same huff, " I'm in no mood for games!” He exclaimed, receiving no answer back.

‘If it’s a battle of wills, then I’ll be sure to come on top,’ He thought to himself, soon drawing back,

“Alright then, have it your way. If that’s what you want, you can stay in there all day long. I don’t mind one bit!” He said while glaring at the door, crossing his arms before gritting his teeth.

He lasted a total of 10 minutes in the same position before he shook his head, his hand tightened around the knob of the door, deciding that if it wasn't locked he'd make his way in, and if not, he'd leave her to come out on her own.

‘This, in no way means that I cave first,’ He assured himself, ‘ Only that...I...I ca...

- No, It means that you can’t have your way you stubborn girl,’ he went on.

The door opened, and as such he was ready to give her a mouthful before his face fell, soon finding the room vacant,

“Oh...You’re not here…” He said softly, soon falling silent.

‘Don’t tell me you really take it to heart?’ He wondered, sitting down on her bed, thinking back to the last bit of words she offered him,

“ I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him, and he could see how much her face had fallen, the downhearted expression making him swallow down bitterness before he turned his sights from her.

“Again, I'm sorry Rohan," she added before she left the room, the waver in her voice almost impossible to look over.

“You frustrate me sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I want you gone,” He muttered lowly, only imagining she took everything as a sign that he didn’t want her around at all.

His hands then fisted, shaking as he stood rigidly still, thinking about the possibility of her simply running away, taking it all in the only way he could,

“And so now what..?” He said airily, his head hanging low as he uttered the words, “Do you expect me to go out?” He said while lifting up his chin, his eyes hardened,

“ …To run after you?” He said out loud. “Perhaps chase you down? Beg on my knees even?” He said as his voice grew louder, practically yelling,

“ Ha!

I, Rohan Kishibe Beg?” He wondered out loud, by then sounding deranged,

“You annoy the hell out of me!” He said while roaring out the words,

“At least now I can get some peace alone!” He called out, shutting his mouth immediately after.

His bottom lip then caught between the sharp edges of his two rows of teeth as he clamped down on it, because far, deep from within, he regretted the fact that the words that left him.

His mansion was still and quiet, the only sound he could hear being the echo of his own voice that sounded ugly and monstrous to him.

“ I'm in no mood to play (f/n)!” He yelled, again, his mouth ran, sounding vexed, and yet, his heart ran with anxiousness. “If you’re hiding then just come out now!”

“Thank you,” She breathed, almost on the very of tears, her face that brimmed with emotion, hiding close to him as she unsuspectedly clung to him, her arms wrapping around him dearly,

“Thank you so much, “ She breathed, her voice shaky before she released a sweet giggle, the small bit of sweet joy slipping through her misery.

Standing still, he stared down at the strange woman, instantly stunned by the sweet smile that greeted him as she looked up at him, it being the first of many that were to come.

She was always quick to smile at him, offering him the kind expression even during dour moments, something he’d silently appreciated because while he didn’t say it, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

Her sweet, smiling face was there as he closed his eyes, and during then, he felt his fastened heart abruptly stop, the world around him going cold and desolate,

‘There’s a damn killer on the loose,’ he thought to himself,

“ He’s somewhere out there,” he said aloud before the following breath he withdrew held a tremor, 

“ And If you’re out there you little, annoying brat…” he muttered darkly, trailing off as he swallowed hard, trying his best to not think about the possibility.

His long legs launched him into a hard sprint, willing to look through every crack of Miroh to find her, because, truth be told,

' You may be annoying, but I'd rather have you annoying me the rest of my life than never seeing you again!'

[akachaan]

the golden-winged king [xiao]

genre: angst

warnings: death, blood

notes: pls im so proud of this writing BYE

The gentle chirps of birds graced Xiao’s ears. He recognized this as a melody of nature, the sunlight cascading a loving warmth onto his pale skin. Lush and rich grass blew in the breeze, one of the few somethings that Xiao actually appreciated from the Wind Archon. He chuckled breathlessly, a feeling of lighthearted mischief settling upon him. Xiao imagined how Venti would pout and scold him for his unbearably disrespect remarks, as he liked to call them. The grass entwined itself into his gloved hand like a silky ribbon. The light, fluffy clouds passed by, drifting away like dandelion seeds floating in the winds.

Xiao’s legs began to ache— the reason unknown —so he’d sat himself down, assuming he’d been basking in the beauty of the flower field for much too long. Ah, flowers. He’d almost forgotten just how intricately designed they were. Well, as a Guardian Yaksha, there’s only so much you can stop and admire. What were the names of these? The petals were pale blue from the bottom fading into a remarkable teal color, four pastel purple strands sprawling out from the top.

Glaze lilies, he recalled. These flowers only bloom once sung to, yes? He remembers this from a certain... human. He smiles fondly at the thought of them. “Xiao, Xiao!” A familiar and soft voice called. Speak of the devil.

Xiao turned to them, and his breath was caught in his throat. It’s like time slowed down, just for them. Just for him. He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, showing vulnerability he’d been hiding for a millennia. Your shining, soft locks framed your face, [c] eyes shining with love and purity. Xiao had seen skies like an ethereal dream, twinkling like sparklers trapped in the deep cerulean sky... But none of those galaxies and any to come would even compare to your radiant image. You were an angel sent from heaven, one to remind him what life can truly bring upon humanity; people like you.

You were like his little secret of sorts. Not a secret of the world. Anyone could meet or find [Name]. He knew anyone could come and sweep you away from him— though he doesn’t enjoy thinking of such ideas —he knew. It could happen. But, he also knew, and he trusted that you wouldn’t truly leave him, after all they’ve been through. He knew that you confined in him just as he did you, he felt like he was finally certain in his eternity of suffering and emptiness. Days that went by where he felt as if he were just existing. He was not living, he never was. Xiao was simply a guardian, assigned to protect Liyue until he drops dead from exhaustion. He was existing as The Guardian Yaksha, Conquerer of Demons.

But with you, he was not any of those. He was not just existing, watching over a nation til his last breath. Your presence alone made him feel warm. Him feeling was already an achievement in itself, after all these years as standing on the sidelines, secluded; no matter how close to Liyue he physically was, he felt so different and disconnected from his people. He’d only be remembered as tale to be told. The way that you made him feel. Not only have you made him feel, you’ve made him feel warm. A ‘warmth’ that he wishes to bask in for the rest of his existence. Warmth. Xiao knew this wasn’t the word to describe how he truly felt. By definition, yes, Xiao admits, albeit hesitantly. But he couldn’t help but feel it was so much deeper than that. You made him feel a warmth that burned his insides. The feeling had words caught in his throat, he often struggled to form a single coherent sentence when you eyes twinkled with a joy he can’t quite grasp. It made him stutter, the way you looked so blissed and euphoric in his company. He loved it. He loved how the butterflies in his stomach never seized, fluttering and flying with each second. His heart raced like a tiger running after its prey, running at miles per minute. He felt so human. So alive. So loved, and he’s finally experienced what it’s like to love. He never wanted it to end.

You laid yourself onto the luxuriant meadow of nature, the blades of green tickling at your cheek. The sun caressed your skin like a mother would her child, giving you an angelic-like glow. Your eyes had drew closed as you listened to what was around you. Distant animals chirping and buzzing filled your ears along with the synchronized breathing of you and the boy next to you. You smiled, your heart thumping against your chest as savored the peace of this moment.

Xiao turned his head to admire the gift the Archons had given him. He saw how amicable this whole ordeal was and how much you were enjoying it. It wasn’t everyday the two of you had the time to lay down and appreciate each other and what the Earth truly had to offer, though I’m sure that’s been made clear. The soft whisper of his name felt like a melody being sang to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Another sweet murmur of his name was called. And another. And another. Xiao grew worried. With every purr of his name, he could hear desperation and panic in your tone. That alone had him sick to his stomach. He sat up, his eyes now greeted with an all-too-familiar setting.

The sky was dark with stormy clouds, rain thundering heavily onto the bloodstained ground. The air was no longer crisp and clean but instead reeked of the metallic scent of blood and sweat. He could almost taste the blood on his lips. Xiao looked at his hands, dirtied and course with dried ichor. What was once his peaceful escape of serendipity was now a horrid sight of what he used to be. The murderous machine of what he promised himself to cast away since The Archon War. Screams of retreat, pain, defeat and victory mixed in his head, which was now throbbing from the sudden change in scenery. Why was he here?

More importantly, where were you?

“Xiao... Thank god you’re alive.” Your broken voice chuckled, growing dryer in the passing seconds. His head snapped to you, who was laying on the floor, absolutely beaten up. His heart ached at the sight, and he reached to gently cup your face, as if one wrong move could completely shatter you. You gasped for air before continuing, “I knew you would survive. There’s,” You paused to cough harshly, your body crumbling as the cough was let out, “no way the Xiao I know would loose to anyone.” He pulled you closer to his lap, panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew there was nothing he could do. But he still tried. He still tried to grasp onto what little hope he had left; it was all happening too quickly.

“Hang on. I’ve got you, okay?” He choked out after the initial shock. The time you have left and the time he would be able to get you proper medical attention were so obviously not in his favor. He picked you up, carrying you on his back. And he just ran. His legs moved like he was going to die if he didn’t hurry. Quite frankly, he would most definitely die emotionally. Xiao couldn’t loose you. Not now, not ever. He wanted to live with you until your died of old age, peacefully where you could’ve smiled on your deathbed. He remembers how you used to get mad at him for carrying you like this. The way your cheeks heated up and you buried your face into his neck always got a goofy smile on his face. But now, you were clinging onto his back as best you could— though it was a loose grip, you used what energy you had left in you to let him know you were still there with him.

But soon, too soon, you wouldn’t be, and you both knew it. “Xiao,” you called weakly.

“I said hang on. I’ll get you medical help soon. Please, keep your eyes open. You still have time.”

“Xiao...”

“You can’t leave me like this. I swore to hold you and protect you and love you for the rest of my life. Out of the many promise I’ve broken I can’t... I can’t break this one.”

“Xiao, listen...” The utter amount of suffering in your voice tore him apart more than the searing pains in his limbs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time no matter how fast he ran. So he obliged to your request and set you in his lap once again. He stared at your face, covered in dirt and scars. Yet you still looked at beautiful as ever.

“Please. Don’t go. I won’t know what to do without you.”

“I’m always here with you even if...” You trailed off, both from the lack of oxygen you had and the discomfort of finishing your own sentence. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, as you saw Xiao in such a vulnerable and tormented state. “Xiao...”

He caressed your face like a mother would her child. The sting of his heart drowned any physical injuries he had. Nothing would hurt more than the thought of losing you. The grass scratched at your cheek, and you winced at the feeling. Xiao tucked a hair strand behind your ear. As he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Xiao... You are and forever will be my Golden-Winged King.”

And that was when the tears spilled. Your body went cold and limp in his own very hands, your eyes that shone with love and purity where now dark and lifeless. The smile that lit up his world was gone; replaced with a face of sorrow eternally etched onto your features. Xiao wondered. Death was a pitiful punishment, yet somehow so enchanting. You still looked as heavenly as ever. It was only then the pain of truly losing you settled in. You were never going to grace his ears with your melodic voice. You were never going to grace his eyes with your smile. You were never going to grace his senses with your adoring hugs.

You were never to grace his life again.

The Golden-Winged King had a fall from grace, just as you did in his own very arms.

[local-spoon-does-a-thing]

Found ( Part 1/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader)

A/N: Okay so this takes place during Transformers: Age of Extinction. When I was younger I loved the movie (mostly because it had dinosaurs) but once I re-watched it...yeah, it was meh for me. In my opinion, first film was better than the sequels. Anyways, I thought “hey, what would happen if reader was separated from Optimus then reunited after all these years?” And so, I did it. I’m dividing this into two parts since I don’t want to make this too long. The second part is mostly going to be the interaction between reader and Optimus. Also, the reader is like in early or mid-twenties.

You can find the second part here!

Summary: 5 years have passed since you last saw Optimus Prime, your guardian. Since then, you’ve traveled with the Autobots and went in hiding with them. Just as you were about to give up hope, Optimus summons the Autobots.

Warning: Angst, angst, angst, angst, spoilers for T:AOE

It’s been 5 years since you last saw Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots, your guardian and best friend. In the aftermath of the events in Chicago, you thought that everything would somewhat go back to normal. Hunting down more Decepticons with your teammates, going on missions together, having Optimus scold you for not doing your homework. Though of course, nothing would be the same without Ironhide. His death absolutely destroyed you. But greater matters were forced to be looked upon, such as the public starting to see the Autobots as a threat, which was very stupid considering that they saved the whole damn world, NEST disbanding, the ‘Bots having to be on the run, and finally, Optimus disappearing from the team. With your long time contribution to the team, you were hunted down as well. Cemetery Wind demanded information about the Cybertronians, every single piece of detail, but you didn’t let them. Now with you being wanted and labeled as a fugitive, you could never truly return to your normal life. Your future dream university? Say goodbye to that. Your friends and family? You left with Bumblebee, not wanting to put any of them in danger. If they were, then you knew that their blood would be on your hands and you just could not accept that.

You supported Bumblebee when he was suddenly assigned as the commanding leader of the Autobot refugees. Despite them belittling and discouraging him, you stayed by his side. You always wondered what Ironhide would’ve done. He would’ve probably done things his own way. What would Ratchet do? You missed the grumpy medic and him meddling about your health. And Optimus...you missed him. A lot. You missed the times where he would be off-guard by some of your witty jokes, you missed how he would let you sleep in his alternate form whenever you dreamt of Decepticons, you missed his rare laughs and chuckles. You really, really missed him. As time went on by, you noticed that even Bumblebee was changing. He grew a bit more mature, but you knew that the responsibility of being a leader was too much for him. He missed Sam, and you did too. Though you two were only neighbors at first, you grew close and became siblings with one another. After his run-in with Cemetery Wind, you knew that he wasn’t coming back. At that point, you were growing hopeless. You tried getting along with Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs throughout the years, but you were too tired to hold up a conversation with them. Luckily, they reluctantly accepted you as a comrade.

As everyone was changing, you noticed that so were you. You were no longer joking around as much as you used to. You became quiet and serious. Yes, you would still give out encouragement and words of optimism to not let the flame of hope die out, but lately, it started to feel and sound fake. Were you trying to convince the others to not give up or were you trying to convince yourself? For the majority of the last 5 years, you tried believing that Optimus and Ratchet were still alive, just in hiding. Your poor heart simply couldn’t handle the weight of indescribable sorrow if news broke out that the two were gone. You’ve already witnessed Optimus die once and you couldn’t do that whole thing again. Hope was something that you needed but it started to become something that you could no longer grasp. When your dying flame of hope was at its last breath, that’s when he came in. The voice you haven’t heard in a very long time.

“Calling all Autobots. Calling all Autobots.”

It was Optimus Prime, calling from the radio. Bumblebee abruptly stopped the drive, causing you to almost hit your head against the steering wheel. After you hissed out his name, you turned to the radio in disbelief. Were you hearing things or was this reality? Bee then started to mess the radio until Optimus’s message was playing on repeat. No. Way. This was actually happening. You didn’t even have time to gather your thoughts before Bee started redirecting his coordinate and driving to where his leader was located, at full speed. Your heart was pounding and you were starting to feel the adrenaline rushing in. Reality still had yet to sink in. Everything was starting to get overwhelming, even if only a couple of moments had passed by. This was real. This had to be real.

You clutched your stomach and nibbled the bottom of your lip. This was supposed to be a great thing and it was! Then why did you feel sick to your stomach? You’ve heard of people throwing up from nervousness. Was this what you were feeling? Why were you nervous? You wanted to see him, absolutely! But after all this time, after all these years, were you even prepared? What if it was just a false alarm and you would get trapped by Decepticons or any other enemies? What if Cemetery Wind had already got him and tried to use him as bait? That last thought had almost made you puke right then and there. Whether you were ready or not, it was time. 

You watched as the rest of the team had already met up with Optimus. The color of his alternate form made you stare at him with wide eyes as all the memories of you two together flashed for a second. Your jaw slightly dropped open and so many things ran around your mind. You were so out of reality that you hadn’t even noticed Bumblebee already transforming out of his alternate form and perching you on top of his shoulder. As he walked towards him, you watched Optimus’s transformation one last time and as always, it never ceases to amaze you and put you in a trance.

“Humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well, the rules have just changed.”

His deep voice filled your ears and for the first time, you relaxed. You could never forget what he sounded like, even during your darkest moments when you had tried to forget in an attempt to get rid of the pain that tore your heart to shreds. Words could not do justice to how you were feeling at this exact moment. The moment when you were finally reunited with your long lost guardian. Bumblebee gently let you down from his shoulder and as the team argued and bickered, all you could do was stare and not move. If this was a dream, then you never wanted to wake up. After an eternity of staring, Optimus’s optics met with your [e/c] orbs and you swore that you saw his breath hitch. 

You weren’t the only one that was worried. During Optimus’s time away from the team and trying to stay hidden, there was not a single thought where he would not worry about you. He always wondered if you were okay and...still alive. It broke his spark every time he imagined that you were dead, six feet underground. Or worse yet, if no one had even known where your body was. He thought that once he would get out of hiding, and he knew that he would one day, the first thing he did not want to hear was that you were either found dead or missing. He hoped that you were out there, having a good life and spending your time in university. Until he went to slumber, until the day that he would be found by Cade Yeager, he yearned for the day where he would get to hear your jokes one last time.

Here you were. Alive and still moving with Bumblebee and the others. His expression softened ever so slightly and he felt a big weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He took a long moment just looking at you. You’ve certainly grown and he knew that you were no longer the bratty teenager he grew to love. Sadness washed over him when he realized that he didn’t get to see you grow up as he was absent for the past 5 years. Questions went in and out, but they were going to have to be asked later. He gave you an ever so slightly ghost of a smile and a small nod.

We can talk later.

You snapped out of your trance once Crosshairs and Hound pointed their guns towards the strangers that you had failed to notice earlier. A young lady, a man who seems to be her father, and another boy.

“Stop, Hound- both of you! They’ve risked their lives for mine.”

For a long time, you stood in the same spot Bumblebee had put you. It was like you had forgotten to move. But once you started to walk towards Optimus and the three strangers, each step made your knees feel weak. Nothing was fully sinking in, yet you continued on. You held out your hand towards them and went on to introduce yourself.

“Uh, hey there. The name’s Cade Yeager and this is my daughter, Tessa. I assume you’re with the other…’Bots?” The young girl next to him gave you a shy smile and a small wave before the boy came in.

“Oh and I’m Shane, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shook the three people’s hands and gave a small but welcoming smile. At long last, you finally got to meet some humans that weren’t hunting you down and trying to kill you. It felt so refreshing to interact with someone that wasn't an alien, car transforming robot.

“[Y/N], and yeah, I’ve been traveling with the Autobots for umm...a few years now or so. Also, I just want to thank you for helping Optimus. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful I am, along with the others as well.”

The way you spoke of Optimus’s name gave you a foreign feeling. Later during the straggling years, especially recently, you rarely spoke of his name since whenever you did, it always gave you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. But now, you were able to say it with ease after knowing that he was okay. Cade gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem at all, really. I saw the way you looked at him and I’m glad that I could help.”

Optimus stared and observed you during your whole interaction with them. There were so many things to say and so many things to discuss with you. Though as he promised, he would have to do that later. Your hair was a bit of a mess, your clothes were a bit dirty and there were some torn bits here and there from all the battles and run-ins you had with the enemy. If he were to look closer, he would be able to notice scars that have been implanted onto your skin. Gashes, cuts, bullet wounds; they were there. He tore his gaze away from you and looked towards the rest of the team.

“Autobots, we will remain here and recharge for the rest of the day. Once everything is settled, we will discuss further plans with Cade Yeager.”

And so, the whole team went to settle down for the day. To your despair, you had little time with Optimus to discuss pretty much everything that had been going on. He had wanted to talk to you as much as you wanted to talk to him, but he was already occupied with what Bumblebee, Crosshairs, Hound, and Drift wanted to tell him. All the reports and notable news about Cemetery Wind and some bickering between the team. Meanwhile, you tried to distract yourself by helping the Yeagers and Shane set up a camp. Drift had been more than helpful by chopping wood from nearby dead trees with his blades. Before you knew it, night had fallen. Hound was able to set a campfire by using measures that were too extreme for your taste. You sat down beside Bumblebee, staring into the crackling fire. You quietly listened to the conversation that was going on beside you. The Autobots spoke of any possible refugees that had come within the years while Cade was being the typical overprotective dad. That almost made you chuckle. It reminded you of your father whenever he saw you hanging out with a potential love interest. God, when was the last time you had even thought about your parents? You wondered how they were doing and if they were still kicking. You wondered that if you were ever to come back to them, would they ever forgive you for running away and scaring them to death? Your heart ached as you thought more about them. If you could just give them one message that told them that you were okay, that would be enough.

Suddenly, you looked up when you heard Drift talking shit about Bumblebee once again. Almost simultaneously, both you and the giant yellow robot rolled your eyes before he stood up from his seat and approached the giant blue robot.

“He’s like a child.”

“This child is about to kick your ass.”

“He brings us shame.”

It didn’t take long for the two to start brawling. You crossed your arms and legs and sighed as you watched the two of them getting it on. Normally, you would’ve tried to stop them and diffuse the situation, but you were just too tired. Too much has happened in one day and you deserved some rest. Plus, Optimus was here now. He could handle them. Then, you noticed the three other friendlies move towards your side, taking a couple of steps back behind you. You heard the girl Tessa comment on what was wrong with them. Ironically, that was your first thought that came into mind when you first met the refugees. Glad that you weren’t the only one.

“Lockdown is hunting us and humans are helping. We need to know why.” Optimus spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know why, but I have an idea about who.” Cade replied.

That led to you watching a couple of clips that he managed to snatch from a drone. Just as you thought that things couldn’t get worse, it did. You watched as Ratchet and Leadfoot had met their demise by the humans attacking them. Ratchet...the grumpy medic you became very fond of, one of the very first Transformers you’ve met. All the missions you went with him, all the meddling you had to put up with from him, and all the scolding he gave you because he cared about you. Though you weren’t as close to Leadfoot as you were with Ratchet, you knew that he was a good ‘Bot. Two of your closest friends, down and out. Ratchet and Ironhide, both who never got to peacefully pass away. You hung your head low as you rested your elbows on top of your knees. Your hair fell in front of your face as silent, bitter tears fell to the ground below you. “Savages” as Hound had called him. And he was right, that was the exact word that  had described how the humans were in the footage. Ratchet had even begged that he was a medic and an Autobot. Your blood continued to boil even once the footage was finished playing. 

Quickly, you wiped away the tears by harshly jabbing your knuckles into your eyes and looked towards the others as they continued to discuss what was happening. Cade mentioned that the headquarters were located in Chicago and had offered to help them with the mission. He told how if he didn’t help them, then they wouldn’t be able to get their normal lives back. Funny thing was that once you’ve associated yourself with the Autobots, there was no way your life was going to fully revert back to its normal self. You and Sam knew that all too well.

“Autobots, I have sworn to never kill humans,” Optimus said, “but when I find out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.”

This old robot always manages to catch you off-guard. In all the years you’ve known him, you have never heard him say anything with a threatening voice. A scary one, in fact. To you, he was the calmest person you knew. Calculated and dangerous, but he was calm. He defined a true leader. But he was going to kill humans? Just before he declared that statement, he admitted that he swore to not kill humans. You knew that he was enraged with what Cemetery Wind and KSI had done to his close friends and you didn’t blame him for wanting to kill someone responsible. It just seemed so off; so out of character. It was jarring.

[ucflibrary]

The national celebration of African American History was started by Carter G. Woodson, a Harvard-trained historian and the founder of the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, and first celebrated as a weeklong event in February of 1926. After a half century of overwhelming popularity, the event was expanded to a full month in 1976 by President Gerald Ford.

Here at UCF Libraries we believe that knowledge empowers everyone in our community and that recognizing past inequities is the only way to prevent their continuation. This is why our February Featured Bookshelf suggestions range from celebrating outstanding African Americans to works illuminating the effects of systemic racism in our country. We are proud to present our top staff suggested books in honor of Black History Month 2021.

Click on the link below to see the full list, descriptions, and catalog links for the Black History Month titles suggested by UCF Library employees. These books plus many, many more are also on display on the main floor of the John C. Hitt Library near the Research & Information Desk.

 A Black Women’s History of the United States by Daina Ramey Berry and Kali Nicole Gross In centering Black women's stories, two award-winning historians seek both to empower African American women and to show their allies that Black women's unique ability to make their own communities while combatting centuries of oppression is an essential component in our continued resistance to systemic racism and sexism. Berry and Gross prioritize many voices: enslaved women, freedwomen, religious leaders, artists, queer women, activists, and women who lived outside the law. The result is a starting point for exploring Black women's history and a testament to the beauty, richness, rhythm, tragedy, heartbreak, rage, and enduring love that abounds in the spirit of Black women in communities throughout the nation. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

 A Bound Woman is a Dangerous Thing: the incarceration of African American women from Harriet Tubman to Sandra Bland by DaMaris B. Hill For black American women, the experience of being bound has taken many forms: from the bondage of slavery to the Reconstruction-era criminalization of women; from the brutal constraints of Jim Crow to our own era's prison industrial complex, where between 1980 and 2014, the number of incarcerated women increased by 700%. For those women who lived and died resisting the dehumanization of confinement--physical, social, intellectual--the threat of being bound was real, constant, and lethal. From Harriet Tubman to Assata Shakur, Ida B. Wells to Sandra Bland and Black Lives Matter, black women freedom fighters have braved violence, scorn, despair, and isolation in order to lodge their protests. DaMaris Hill honors their experiences with at times harrowing, at times hopeful responses to her heroes, illustrated with black-and-white photographs throughout. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 Be Free or Die: the amazing story of Robert Smalls' escape from slavery to Union hero by Cate Lineberry Cate Lineberry's compelling narrative illuminates Robert Smalls’ amazing journey from slave to Union hero and ultimately United States Congressman. This captivating tale of a valuable figure in American history gives fascinating insight into the country's first efforts to help newly freed slaves while also illustrating the many struggles and achievements of African Americans during the Civil War. Suggested by Dawn Tripp, Research & Information Services

 Before You Suffocate Your Own Fool Self by Danielle Evans Fearless, funny, and ultimately tender, Evans's stories offer a bold new perspective on the experience of being young and African-American or mixed-race in modern-day America. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 Black Fatigue: how racism erodes the mind, body, and spirit by Mary-Frances Winters This is the first book to define and explore Black fatigue, the intergenerational impact of systemic racism on the physical and psychological health of Black people--and explain why and how society needs to collectively do more to combat its pernicious effects. Suggested by Glen Samuels, Circulation

 Deacon King Kong by James McBride From James McBride comes a wise and witty novel about what happens to the witnesses of a shooting. In September 1969, a fumbling, cranky old church deacon known as Sportcoat shuffles into the courtyard of the Cause Houses housing project in south Brooklyn, pulls a .45 from his pocket, and in front of everybody shoots the project's drug dealer at point-blank range. McBride brings to vivid life the people affected by the shooting: the victim, the African-American and Latinx residents who witnessed it, the white neighbors, the local cops assigned to investigate, the members of the Five Ends Baptist Church where Sportcoat was deacon, the neighborhood's Italian mobsters, and Sportcoat himself. As the story deepens, it becomes clear that the lives of the characters--caught in the tumultuous swirl of 1960s New York--overlap in unexpected ways. When the truth does emerge, McBride shows us that not all secrets are meant to be hidden, that the best way to grow is to face change without fear, and that the seeds of love lie in hope and compassion. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 Different Strokes: Serena, Venus, and the unfinished Black tennis revolution by Cecil Harris Harris chronicles the rise of the Williams sisters, as well as other champions of color, closely examining how African Americans are collectively faring in tennis, on the court and off. Despite the success of the Williams sisters and the election of former pro player Katrina Adams as the U.S. Tennis Association’s first black president, top black players still receive racist messages via social media and sometimes in public. The reality is that while significant progress has been made in the sport, much work remains before anything resembling equality is achieved. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 His Truth Is Marching On: John Lewis and the power of hope by Jon Meacham John Lewis, who at age twenty-five marched in Selma and was beaten on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, is a visionary and a man of faith. Using intimate interviews with Lewis and his family and deep research into the history of the civil rights movement, Meacham writes of how the activist and leader was inspired by the Bible, his mother's unbreakable spirit, his sharecropper father's tireless ambition, and his teachers in nonviolence, Reverend James Lawson and Martin Luther King, Jr. A believer in hope above all else, Lewis learned from a young age that nonviolence was not only a tactic but a philosophy, a biblical imperative, and a transforming reality. Integral to Lewis's commitment to bettering the nation was his faith in humanity and in God, and an unshakable belief in the power of hope. Meacham calls Lewis as important to the founding of a modern and multiethnic twentieth- and twenty-first century America as Thomas Jefferson and James Madison and Samuel Adams were to the initial creation of the nation-state in the eighteenth century. Suggested by Richard Harrison, Research & Information Services

 Hitting a Straight Lick with a Crooked Stick by Zora Neale Hurston An outstanding collection of stories about love and migration, gender and class, racism and sexism that proudly reflect African American folk culture. Brought together for the first time in one volume, they include eight of Hurston’s “lost” Harlem stories, which were found in forgotten periodicals and archives. These stories challenge conceptions of Hurston as an author of rural fiction and include gems that flash with her biting, satiric humor, as well as more serious tales reflective of the cultural currents of Hurston’s world. Suggested by Sandy Avila, Research & Information Services

 Race, Sports, and Education: improving opportunities and outcomes for black male college athletes by John N. Singer Through his analysis of the system and his attention to student views and experiences, Singer crafts a valuable, nuanced account and points in the direction of reforms that would significantly improve the educational opportunities and experiences of these athletes. At a time when collegiate sports have attained unmistakable institutional value and generated unprecedented financial returns-all while largely failing the educational needs of its athletes-this book offers a clear, detailed vision of the current situation and suggestions for a more equitable way forward. Suggested by Megan Haught, Student Learning & Engagement/Research & Information Services

 Real Life by Brandon Taylor A novel of rare emotional power that excavates the social intricacies of a late-summer weekend -- and a lifetime of buried pain. Almost everything about Wallace, an introverted African-American transplant from Alabama, is at odds with the lakeside Midwestern university town where he is working toward a biochem degree. For reasons of self-preservation, Wallace has enforced a wary distance even within his own circle of friends -- some dating each other, some dating women, some feigning straightness. But a series of confrontations with colleagues, and an unexpected encounter with a young straight man, conspire to fracture his defenses, while revealing hidden currents of resentment and desire that threaten the equilibrium of their community. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

 Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde In this charged collection of fifteen essays and speeches, Lorde takes on sexism, racism, ageism, homophobia, and class, and propounds social difference as a vehicle for action and change. Her prose is incisive, unflinching, and lyrical, reflecting struggle but ultimately offering messages of hope. Suggested by Emily Horne, Rosen Library

 The Privileged Poor: how elite colleges are failing disadvantaged students by Abraham Jack College presidents and deans of admission have opened their doors--and their coffers--to support a more diverse student body. But is it enough just to let them in? Anthony Jack reveals that the struggles of less privileged students continue long after they've arrived on campus. In their first weeks they quickly learn that admission does not mean acceptance. In this bracing and necessary book, Jack documents how university policies and cultures can exacerbate preexisting inequalities, and reveals why these policies hit some students harder than others. Jack provides concrete advice to help schools reduce these hidden disadvantages--advice we cannot afford to ignore. Suggested by Peggy Nuhn, UCF Connect Libraries

 The Sun Does Shine: how I found life and freedom on death row by Anthony Ray Hinton, with Lara Love Hardin In 1985, Anthony Ray Hinton was arrested and charged with two counts of capital murder in Alabama. Stunned, confused, and only twenty-nine years old, Hinton knew that it was a case of mistaken identity and believed that the truth would prove his innocence and ultimately set him free. But with no money and a different system of justice for a poor black man in the South, Hinton was sentenced to death by electrocution. He spent his first three years on Death Row at Holman State Prison in agonizing silence, full of despair and anger toward all those who had sent an innocent man to his death. But as Hinton realized and accepted his fate, he resolved not only to survive, but find a way to live on Death Row. For the next twenty-seven years he was a beacon, transforming not only his own spirit, but those of his fellow inmates, fifty-four of whom were executed mere feet from his cell. With the help of civil rights attorney and author Bryan Stevenson, Hinton won his release in 2015. Suggested by Lily Dubach, UCF Connect Libraries

 This is Major: notes on Diana Ross, dark girls, and being dope by Shayla Lawson Shayla Lawson is major. You don't know who she is, yet, but that's okay. She is on a mission to move black girls like herself from best supporting actress to a starring roles in the major narrative. With a unique mix of personal stories, pop culture observations, and insights into politics and history, Lawson sheds light on the many ways black femininity has influenced mainstream culture. Timely, enlightening, and wickedly sharp, Lawson shows how major black women and girls really are. Suggested by Glen Samuels, Circulation

 We Want Our Bodies Back by Jessica Care Moore Over the past two decades, Jessica Care Moore has become a cultural force as a poet, performer, publisher, activist, and critic. Reflecting her transcendent electric voice, this searing poetry collection is filled with moving, original stanzas that speak to both Black women’s creative and intellectual power, and express the pain, sadness, and anger of those who suffer constant scrutiny because of their gender and race. Fierce and passionate, she argues that Black women spend their lives building a physical and emotional shelter to protect themselves from misogyny, criminalization, hatred, stereotypes, sexual assault, objectification, patriarchy, and death threats. Suggested by Sara Duff, Acquisitions & Collections

[xwasted-days]

𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 || 𝖇.𝖍.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: It’s probably been done before, but I wanted to throw together a little song-fic based on Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars. I’m sappy and I like sad things. Also, this is my first tumblr fic, pls be nice. Requests are open and I have no tag-list, because it’s a new blog. 

Work Count: 2, 276

Complete Story Warnings: Major Character Death, Pure Angst, 10/10 sad. Also, probably language. 

The battle of Starcourt was turning in favor of the party and all therein, but war was never without casualty. 

Billy Hargrove had a questionable character and reputation among most in Hawkins. People wanted him as a friend or a fuck, and those that didn’t wanted him gone. Few succeeded in ever knowing Billy as more than the sad little king of his sad little hill, and even fewer knew the plights he faced at home. A minimal two: Max, the step sister, and Y/N, the girlfriend, who rushed into the center of the mall behind Mike Wheeler, unable to help as Billy threw himself in El’s path. Y/N moved before her mind could register: scrambling forward when Billy caught the mindflayer’s clawed gullet in his hands. Those beautiful, calloused hands with the feather-soft touch. She took another step forward, faltering as a tentacle dug into his left side, the sickening crunch of torn flesh and splintering ribs echoing in the building silence. The second hit came and she rushed forward again, slipping on fragments of broken glass. Y/N’s knees hit the ground hard, the sharp sting barely registering as the hits kept coming, clawing all around his torso. He screamed each time, every cry cutting off in a strangled garble at the sharp shock of another tentacle landing its blows. Billy screamed, daring the monster on, and Y/N screamed, begging it all to stop. 

The final blow landed in the center of Billy’s chest, silencing him. Max’s scream sounded somewhere behind her. 

As the mindflayer pulled away, thrashing, snarling, wailing in defeat, Y/N ran forward, slipping in rapidly pooling blood as she pulled Billy to her chest. 

I remember tears streaming down your face, when I said, “I’ll never let you go.”

The words, even as they left Y/N’s lips, felt like the deepest and most real thing she’d expressed since the moment he was taken by the mindflayer. 

Since the darkness had fallen over Hawkins, she’d felt vacant, plastic, unreal. She supposed the notion came first when Barb had gone missing; when the trio of sub-popular girls was first fractured. Everything seemed to fall apart until Y/N found out what really happened to Barb, what was haunting Will Byers, and what hunted the people of Hawkins.  

Life was a ceaseless ebb and flow of highs and lows; still, she never expected the tide to pull away as it was now. Nothing could compare to this feeling: her boyfriend tucked in her arms, fading away before her, was what would cause the tidal wave to break. 

Cool and fragile, the rapid thundering of his heart beneath Y/N’s palm, the salt of crystalline tears sliding off his angled pale, cheek, his hand gripping her arm as he clung to waning life. Billy opened his mouth, hoping for any words to form. None did. He felt the pain with each blow, but as the creature yanked itself away and Billy fell, there was no sensation. Nothing but an icy numbness. After his mom left, Billy prayed for nothing more than to lose his feeling, and now it was gone he wanted it back. 

He wanted it back because he wanted to stay with her. He’d always known he was a selfish bastard, but this instance wasn’t for himself. It was for her; his Y/N. The only girl he gave a shit about for longer than one night at a time. And now, he was going to lose her. “..I-” he struggled again, shivering in her arms. 

When all those shadows almost killed your light

“Shh,” Y/N cooed, bringing her hand up to brush sweaty, blonde curls off of his forehead, ignoring the scene that played out around them. Billy was never meant to get caught in this crossfire; he was meant to be as he always was: cocky, stupid, young and reckless. Seated atop his lifeguard seat, staring out over the crowds of Hawkins Community Pool as a king surveyed his kingdom. Instead, he was out there, vulnerable to to the upside down, taken as so many others had been.

Y/N glanced down at the gaping, bloody hole that forced the pale colored fabric of the shirt at Billy’s chest to dip inward, the rich, viscous, and sickly stain making her stomach churn. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, a meager attempt at staunching her tears as she played strong for Billy’s sake. She felt his hand at her arm give a squeeze, her attentions drawing back toward the boy in her lap. Y/E/C eyes connecting to Billy’s steely blue ones again, she offered a shaky smile, her thumb smoothing along the arch of his cheek. 

I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone…"

Billy’s voice was soft and hoarse, barely audible as the commotion of the party and the mindflayer fizzled on around them. The fair haired, beautiful boy Y/N had fallen so deeply for let out a soft grunt of protest at the ache, his body twitching involuntarily as pain coursed through him.

“Think you can get rid of me that easily, ya little shit?” Y/N asked with a gentle chuckle, keeping her shaky grin to ease Billy’s worry. Her tears flowed more freely now, slipping down her cheeks as she held him close. “Gotta try a whole helluva lot harder than that, Hargrove. You and me. California, remember?” 

The broken king of Hawkins High put on a woozy, pale-lipped smile and hiccupped on a sob, coughing after. A soft mist of blood peppered his lips and chin, staining his teeth crimson. California, their would-be paradise, far away from Indiana and all their worries. He’d sworn up and down that they would leave one day, go back to his home and flourish in ways unimaginable. His promise now seemed as broken as he was. He was fading. Y/N didn’t have enough time.

But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.

The flutter of Billy’s heart was growing more and more faint, and the beats, which willed themselves with great difficulty, grew slower and slower in their efforts. 

Billy leaned his weight further into Y/N’s body, slack and woozy. All the coherency in his head fading. She had promised that wouldn’t leave, said she wouldn’t let go, but she had. Or hadn’t she? He could hardly tell, his vision fading in and out, gleams of purple and pink, the hazy sound of distant chatter. Billy felt his chest heave with a great gasp, and his jaw open and close with the effort of breath. It happened again, and again. He felt hands on his arms, squeezing, but he couldn’t register the effect of the sensation. He was cold, so cold. He wished so vehemently that he could ask Y/N what was going on, but Billy couldn’t seem to find his tongue. 

That’s a first, he thought, trying to squeeze back the person in his numbed fingers. Every bit of him was so cold, probably frozen from where he had been, lost in darkness with the delicate snowfall. He was sure another erratic breath would leave him in shards. His head lulled to the side, hardly-seeing eyes registering the plume of Y/H/C and a small streak of fiery red. He searched between them, hoping to register on either of the faces that peered down on him, but none came. He coughed, gagging on something oozing in his throat, feeling hands tighten and voices raise. 

Soft curls of blonde hair fell over her his forehead, even as Y/N pushed them away, shifting his weight so Billy’s head was more firmly pressed to her chest. He was growing more and more still, even as she and Max begged him to stay. The girl took a breath, fighting down the body-trembling sob that wedged in her throat. “Billy? Wake up, Billy, please?” She asked, watching a tear of her own fall down to slip against his cheek, rolling down onto his stubbled chin.

Billy took a deep, shuddering breath, so loud he scared himself. He'd forgotten to breathe, and the muted voices he heard in his haze kept him there. Her voice. The voice he listened to in the quiet solitude of a shared bedroom, or in the crowded halls of Hawkins High. The voice he grew to love before he could even remember what love felt like. The voice he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. 

He blinked, trying to clear the tears in his eyes, focusing on Y/N and Max hovering above him.

“....I’m sorry.” Billy shuddered as his eyes glossed over,  a sudden cloud overtaking his vision. The clarity of the world was fading into shapes, then shadows, and careening rapidly into darkness. There was a loud bang somewhere near him and had he retained the strength, he would have jumped. Another bang. And another. One, two. One, two. One. Two. One. Two, each pair of beats getting further and further apart. Billy breathed out, defeated, overcome by the realization that those noises were thuds of his heart stopping. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, he couldn’t taste anything but the heavy black goop on his tongue, he could only smell the coppery, acrid stink of blood that clogged his sinuses. All that was left was hearing; Billy was caught listening to the terrible, awful rhythm of his once-small heart, stopping. He listened again, hoping to hear the voices, praying they would draw him out of it, but there was no sound. Nothing. Not even the beating of his heart. Just his remaining consciousness, slowly going black. Billy Hargrove was dead, he knew. He wanted to scream, to panic and cry, but nothing was there. 

He didn't see the light that everyone blathered about, he didn't feel the peace. He was the hollow, lifeless shell of a boy who could have been more than a lifeguard with an attitude problem. And he was dead. And he left her behind. 

His beautiful Y/N, whose voice and smiles and touches were forfeit to the darkness that consumed. 

Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone. 

Y/N  felt the final, sickening beat of Billy’s heart beneath her hand. Another tear fell onto Billy’s face, then another. And another. Max whispered, begging her step brother to wake, her small hands shaking his bloodied shoulders to no avail. A hard, broken, centuries old sob tore through Y/N’s chest and echoed through the mall; the cry of everyone who had lost someone they loved for good. The cry that begged death to return a loved one to the land of the living that always fell on deaf ears. 

“Billy, please,” she whimpered, trembling fingers soothing the lifeless skin of the boy she loved. Every thought, hope, wish, and dream connected to him was gone, dead as he was. 

Jagged orange patterns began to dance on the ground all around them, and offered the girl nothing but a ghastly illumination along her lost lover’s gaunt, pale face. It made him look hollow, as if no happiness, no mischief, no curiosity had once been lurking behind those coy, gorgeous eyelids. His once tanned, golden flesh was sickly and pale, the adonis within snuffed out forever. Y/N  snarled and sobbed hard, holding Billy closer, hiding him from the sickening yellowed light of the fire that grew.

She heard feet scramble around as the party gathered, their footfalls echoing like hard beat of the drums of war.

Villains never prevailed. Heroes never lived. No one was ever truly saved. Y/N’s shoulders caved and shook as she sobbed, broken and holding onto Billy’s body. Stifling a hiccup, she sighed sadly and started humming and rocking him back and forth; their song mumbled on tear-stained lips. She was chained to her place on the ground, lost. 

She didn’t see the others there, she couldn’t hear their words. She didn’t take notice when Max hid her face in El’s shoulder and sobbed for her lost brother.  

The world around her was crumbling into vacant nothingness and Y/N felt herself heave with another sob. She leaned back, her blood stained fingers gently brushing the infallible, pure flesh of Billy’s cold cheek, smoothing the tears she’d left there away with another broken whimper. “I love you…” She whispered longingly, her voice needy and raspy. 

A hand pressed to Y/N’s shoulder. It didn’t matter whose it was. It wasn’t his. And she hated that it pulled her back. The distant thrum of helicopters rattling in the skies, the sobs that left Max as she cried, the soft sniffles that sounded from El as she sat in mourning solidarity with her friend. Steve’s voice low as sirens began to wail in the streets. 

“Y/N. We gotta go,” Steve said, joined at her flank by Robin, whose thin hand came to rest on Y/N’s arm. She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave him. Another sob leaving her, Robin leaned forward to rest her head on Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing her arm gently as she could, tears flooding her own eyes as she looked across to Steve’s battered face. 

Harrington hated Hargrove with all he had, but he didn’t deserve this. Y/N didn’t deserve this. Nostrils quivering as he fought to keep strong, he gave Robin a solemn nod. Together, they helped place Billy on the ground where he fell and pull Y/N back, consoling her as she cried. 

Just close your eyes. The sun is going down You'll be alright.  No one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

[labyrinthofmagicdrabbles]

| incuratus [2/?]

‘family’

fandom: magi

pairing: ren hakuryuu x f!reader x judar

warnings: Implications of suggestive content, language! an my writing being absolute garbage per usual, please don’t cyberbully me ;_;

.      .      .       .      .     .

On a beautiful morning such as the one he woke to, he would like to think that it would remain beautiful. Grow into a peaceful day; the sunlight peaking just above the horizon, pale golden light shining through the windows, the soft melody of bird's song, as well as the privilege of waking up next to two of the people who he loved most in the world, it was sure to be a good day.

Or so he had hoped.

A loud crash followed by a whine and the loud exclamation of "Shit!"  had startled the prince from his tired stupor as he jolts up and, mismatched blue eyes wide and alert. He rubs them, trying to wipe the sleep out of them before looking around his room.

Frowning when he realized that the spaces next to him on the bed were unoccupied—confusing, as he was usually the one who woke up first to start the day— he rose from the bed and went to prepare himself for the day.

It didn't take him long to freshen up and get dressed, but the sound of yet another crash had him rushing out the room, down the stairs to the sound of the commotion, leading him into the kitchen where he was greeted by quite the catastrophe.

Flour covered up nearly the entirety of the kitchen, coating the floor in the white powder from top to bottom, unwashed dishes filled up the sink, a strange yellow liquid (which he hoped to Gods was oil and not what he feared it was) spilled out across the counter, and so much more that he could list,  creating a huge mess that only he would be stuck cleaning.

But of course in the midst of the disastrous sight, were his two lovely partners— [Name], who was also covered in flour and who was knelt down, appearing to be sweeping something up, and Judar, who wore a messy apron with the words 'kiss the cook'—arguing loudly over something he couldn't even care to pay mind to.

Some things never change.

"How the fuck do you burn water, [Name]? Fucking water?"

"Well, I could've done the recipe correctly if you hadn't have thrown the book away, you stupid fucking magi!"

"You're so fucking—"

"Language!" Two heads snap in his direction as Hakuryuu's voice cuts in the argument sharply, giving his lovers a seething glare as he makes a small nodding gesture towards the small, dark-haired child who sat on the floor in the far corner of the kitchen, toys scattered and forgotten as he watched the scene in front of him with wide, innocent eyes.

Taking note of the boy is enough to get the two to quiet down, as they drop what they're doing and turn to face him fully, guilty looks on their faces. (Well, at least [Name] looked guilty, as opposed to Judar, who stood there with a scowl painted across his handsome face.)

"Now what on Earth is going on in here?"  The former emperor of Kou placed his hands on his hips— something he only did when he knew they had caused trouble— and started expectantly, silently demanding an explanation for the state of the kitchen.

Judar, being Judar,  met his stern gaze with a childish pout and crossed his arms, looking away like a child who had been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Well, don't get mad at me," he grumbled and gestured towards [Name], who stood looking at Hakuryuu with a nervous grin spread across her lovely face. "It's her fault."

"Me?" The grin dropped from her lips and a look of fury washed over her face. "Don't try to pin this all on me! You're the one who can't follow simple directions and decided to throw the book out the window!"

"Only because you kept trying to force it down my damn throat! Who gives a shit about some stupid book!" The black-haired defended himself, a haughty look appearing on his face. "I'm a fucking magi, baby, I don't need no damn directions."

"Oh yeah? Wellbeing a 'fucking magi' doesn't seem to stop you from making stupid-ass decisions, now does it?" She snaps, "Too bad having all that hair doesn't make up for a lack of  brain!"

"Hey, watch it you fucki—"

"Enough!"  The tone Hakuryuu's voice takes as he raises the volume of it is enough to get the two arguing 'adults' to fall silent once more.

Stepping further into the kitchen, Hakuryuu is cautious and carefully steps over broken glass as he makes his way towards the counter, lifting the spilled bottle of oil. "One, I didn't ask whose fault it was, I simply asked what happened. And two, please refrain from using such language in front of our child."

"Really?" Judar huffs, raising a firm eyebrow. "Look who's talking! Don't act like you yourself don't use 'such language',  Hakuryuu."  He ends his sentence with a suggestive smirk.

A trickle of pink brushes across pale cheeks, the scarred male turning to face the magi with a deep scowl on his flustered face. "That is a completely different situation, Judar! It's different when it's just the three of us, but not in front of Hakuro!"

"Yeah, yeah," Judar gave a lazy wave as his eyes flickered over to the small boy, who had once again become preoccupied with his toys. "It's not that big of a deal. Besides, he's only a brat. It's not like he understands what those words mean anyways."

"He's three, Judar. Children that age are quite impressionable."

"You know, sometimes I forget that I'm  supposed to be the mother, and you the father." [Name] gives a light giggle and places a kiss on Hakuryuu's pink cheek.

"Shut up!"

.  .   .   .   .   .

True to what he had predicted, after salvaging what was left of his lovers' poor attempt at making breakfast—though, he was truly touched that they had at least tried to do it—and turning it into a delicious masterpiece as he always did, Hakuryuu had found himself stuck in the remnants of the mess they had made. As he always was.

[Name] had been the first to excuse herself from cleaning duties this time, claiming that the "stress" of doing so much 'hard work' had made her rather tired and she 'deserved' to rest since she would be dealing with a child soon—and apparently she wasn't talking about Hakuro. But before he could question her anymore on that matter, she had rushed off into their bedroom for a 'quick' nap. But of course, by quick, she meant a couple of hours.

That left Judar.

And after a long moment of silent stare-off, looking into the beautiful red eyes that belonged to his magi, his resolve unshaken, gaze piercing,  all it took was a simple, wily upturn of Judar's plump lips before he broke. Sighing, he simply dismissed the magi away, of whom had let out an evil cackle before quickly flying out the window and towards his favorite peach tree, which stood in the forest a mile or two from their home.

Truthfully, he hadn't expected any different from Judar.

"Well then," After turning off the faucet to the sink, Hakuryuu turned and walked towards his son who still sat in his chair, playing with a stuffed dragon. "Let's get you cleaned up and put down for a nap with mama, hm?"

"No!" Large, [e/c] eyes stared defiantly into the surprised blue of his father's. "Roro no want to nap! Roro want to help Baba!"

"Help me?" Hakuryuu's surprised expression morphed into that of a gentle smile, his heart growing warm at Hakuro's declaration. "You wish to help Baba clean?"

"Yeah!"

"Very well," Hakuryuu lifts his son into his arms and walks over to the counter where he places him to sit before rolling up the sleeves of his hanfu. "Let's get started, shall we?"

.  .   .    .   .   .

About an hour had gone by, and the combined effort of father and son had the kitchen near spotless, not a trace of the mess the earlier disaster had left. Admittedly, it was a tad bit more tiring for the former emperor, having to put extra effort into aiding Hakuro with cleaning;  though the boy's enthusiasm and determination, bless his sweet little heart, to aid him in his task truly touched his heart to the point where he was nearly reduced to tears when his son had looked up at him with his large eyes and innocent smile, asking him if he did a good job.

Truly, his child was a godsend. Just what had a man like him, whose hands were so stained with sin and blood, done to deserve such a sweet child like Hakuro? He must have done something right.

A sudden crash, the sound of glass shattering had interrupted his thoughts. Then—

"Fuck!"

Hakuryuu's entire world came crashing down.

Eyes widened like saucers and mouth falling open in disbelief, Hakuryuu's turn towards his son is slow as he stares in shock at the small boy, who stood glaring at the plate he had tried to dry, now shattered into pieces on the floor.

"What—" He sure hoped he had heard incorrectly, his ears were deceiving him. Clearly, the three-year-old had not just said what he thinks he just said. "Excuse me?"

Hakuro's [e/c]- colored gaze met his. "What the matter, Baba?"

"Hakuro," Kneeling down to where he was at his son's height, Hakuryuu placed his hands on his shoulder. "What did you just say?"

"What did Roro say?" Dark locks fall over his eyes as he tilted his head, a look of confusion on his face. "Oh, Roro say Fuck!"

Hakuryuu blanched.

No. Nonononoonono—his worst fear had come true. His sweet son, the light of his life, had been corrupted! His innocence tainted, mind now ruined with the impurity of such dirty words. And it was all his fault! He had failed as a father.

Fighting back tears that threatened to form in his eyes, Hakuryuu's grip on the boy's shoulder tightens. "Hakuro, listen to me, you mustn't say that!"

"Say what?"

"Th-That word!"

"What word, Baba?"

"That word you just said!"

Silence. "...Fuck?" Hakuro blinks innocently, not understanding the reason behind his father's distress.

"Yes, that—no, stop saying that!"  Hakuryuu was close to pulling his hair out.

"But why?"

"Because..." His mind was in shambles, far too clouded with grief for his brain to process any words correctly. "Because it's not a good word!"

"But Mama and Baba Ju say 'Fuck' all time!"

"Yes, well,  they shouldn't be saying it either!" Hakuryuu cried, unable to stop a few tears from falling. "Listen Hakuro, that is a very inappropriate thing for a child to say! Just please,  don't say that word again. Don't be a bad boy."

Large (e/c) eyes grow wide as they begin to moisten with tears, and the boy's lips tremble. "I-I no mean to be bad boy, Baba!" He sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists as he began crying.

Instantly, guilt blooms in Hakuryuu's chest, and he mentally scolds himself for making his son upset. If there was one thing he knew his child inherited from him—it was his sensitivity. (Though to be fair, Hakuryuu didn't think he was nearly as sensitive as he used to be. He was a grown man now, he had changed a lot!)

Pulling the boy in his arms, Hakuryuu rocked him gently, trying to hush his cries. "Shh, Hakuro, please don't cry,"  he strokes his son's dark hair.  "You're not a bad boy at all, you're a good boy! Baba was just being silly." Though in reality, he personally felt his worries weren't all that silly, as any parent wouldn't want to hear their young child use any foul words, but he did not like seeing his son upset.

The boy's sobs quiet down, and he pulled away from his father's chest, looking at him through large, teary eyes. "Really? Roro good boy again?"

Hakuryuu smiles gently. "Of course."

When all was settled, his son finally calmed down and returned to his normal, cheerful self Hakuryuu set him down and sent him off to go play. As he finished off putting the dishes away, he couldn't help but ponder, perhaps he was overreacting? It wasn't like his son was a bad child— he was mostly well-behaved, and radiated that natural curiosity and cheerful attitude most toddlers had. Perhaps he wasn't giving him enough credit? After all, he was only three. Like Judar had said, it wasn't as if he knew what that word meant.

Did he really have anything to worry about?

He watched as Hakuro played with a stuffed dragon his aunt Kougyoku had given him, innocently babbling and giggling to himself as he made the toy fly. It was as if the earlier issue hadn't even occurred, gone and far out his mind as he played in his own, blissful little world.

Pale lips form a smile. No, he didn't have to worry about anything— as long as his son grew up in a loving, happy home and raised to be a good man, he would be fine.

Nothing to worry about.

But then, the sound of the front door slamming open suddenly echoed, as an all to familiar voice rang out.

"Hey, why the fuck is it so quiet in here?"

Except for that.

.    .     .     .     .