#HES GOTTA BE NASTY FOR A MINUTE THO BARE WITH IT

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 3/?

word count: 2514

Rating: M

Warnings: Crocodile , Explicit language, minor violence (slightly less than last chapter's lol.)

Chapter excerpt:

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

[Previous part]

Buggy manages to avoid both Crocodile and Mihawk for about a week after the official public debut of Cross Guild, only catching brief glimpses of his ‘underlings’ out of the corner of his eye here and there around the island, before his luck comes to a rather abrupt end one morning. Crocodile calls for their first official meeting, after ordering Buggy beforehand to clear out a space for a makeshift meeting room, and even now Buggy has no idea why they even need a meeting room or to hold a meeting…

The quickest ‘meeting room’ Buggy can come up with is a storage closet filled partly with weapons that he cleared out a little and then put a table, a whiteboard, and three chairs in, and as soon as Crocodile steps foot inside the makeshift room, he sticks his nose high up in the air and sighs, “Whatever, let’s just get started,” He says, tossing an overstuffed manila folder onto the table in the middle of the room and having a seat first. Crocodile is impossible to please, and Buggy questions whether he’s an actual pirate or some kind of corrupted CEO with overly high standards.

“As briefly discussed before, our first step will be putting bounties on the Marines’ heads.” Crocodile opens up his folder, pulling out a couple of neatly stacked papers, “I’ve compiled a list of over one hundred marines, categorizing and ranking them all from highest to lowest bounties already to make things go a little faster,” He hands his papers over to Buggy, who looks at him, stunned and slightly horrified, “You make the bounty posters for them and have them distributed, but do come and see me before you distribute them, I don’t want a repeat of last weeks incident.”  

Yeah…Neither does Buggy.

Buggy looks down at the papers Crocodile just gave him, scanning over the list in utter disbelief… There are so many names here…where did he get all these from?! Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp… Vice Admiral Tsuru….  Vice Admiral Smoker….He reads, and the list continues to grow from there. Crocodile has everyone from Vice Admirals to Captains, to lieutenants and even lowly ranking officers on his hit list, he has people Buggy didn’t even know existed on the list, and for once he’s glad he’s on Crocodile’s side and not one of his enemies.  

“Of course, I don’t expect anyone to be able to take on any admirals, or even Akainu, but you never know what’ll happen,” Crocodile states, handing over what has to be the scariest list of names Buggy’s seen so far. “Moving on, We’ll also need ships, weapons, medical supplies, and most importantly, men and land.”

Woah, woah…Buggy’s still not even over this whole marine thing, are they really just going to skip over the fact that Crocodile was able to compile a list of hundreds of marines within a week? Where did he get this kind of information? “For the time being I want anyone we can get, making these bounties and offering protection to any brave individual who’s willing to take on the marines and or make a criminal out of themselves is the quickest way to get more people on our side because as it stands we only have about two hundred and thirty-five men, and there’s no way we could withstand a possible attack from the government.”

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

Crocodile, who seems equally as unbothered by the idea of a buster call, simply nods, “Exactly, which is why we need more men and land. These bounties will give us men, power, and higher status, but obviously, it’ll come with consequences. There will be a lot of injuries, deaths, and overall destruction by doing this.”

“So why are we doing it?!” Buggy exclaims, “This seems…”

“We can’t live in the world government’s world, can we?” Crocodile asks, still acting a little too nonchalant for Buggy’s liking, “So we’re going to create our own utopia.”

What the fuck does that even mean…?  

Oh, god. They’re going to die. They’re going to be blown to pieces and if they aren’t, they’re going to be executed in front of millions just like…

God, Buggy can’t do this. He can’t handle the idea of his home being blown up, or having to go back to Impel down, or, or being publicly executed. He-

He can’t just leave Cross Guild, Mihawk and Crocodile will kill him. But…remaining in Cross Guild will also get him killed. He’s really going to die. Any path Buggy chooses in life seems like it’ll lead to certain death, and he’s exhausted, he feels like he’s the one with a hit on his head. Buggy thinks back to when he was just a small-time pirate and finds himself missing those days where no one knew who he was or about his past. Back then he could run around freely without worrying about his men or his home being destroyed, but now even if he tried to run away from all his problems, there’s nowhere for him to hide.

God, he’s actually going to die.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes as Crocodile rises from his seat, pulling out a photo before pinning it to the whiteboard in the room, “We can discuss ancient weapons in the next meeting, but for now let’s move on to land. In the event of a buster call, we’ll immediately have to get off the island and relocate. Now, I’ve picked a few islands out, but this one right here is the most interesting and closest, boys.” He points to the picture on the board, “This is Prickly Pear island, a spacious desert kingdom with a tyrannical king who’s starving his people and hoarding most of the country's wealth and resources. It’s easy pickings, we don’t even have to turn the people against their king, we just show up and ‘save’ all the citizens, and take over.” He grins.   

God, Buggy doesn’t want Emptee Bluffs Island to be blown up and he doesn’t want to live in the desert with Crocodile where he’s practically invincible, he just wants this nightmare to end...He just wishes he were still a warlord, no.. no, he wishes he were just a lowly pirate in Orange Town.  

God, he hates his life so much.

…

Their meeting lasts a lot longer than Buggy would have hoped it would, and he could hardly keep up with all Crocodile’s plans because, you know, there’s that new silly possibility of the world government blowing them to kingdom come… ahaha, so silly. Anyways once the meeting is over, he quickly gets the hell away from Crocodile and Mihawk as fast as possible and looks for men who can make the bounties for the marines because Buggy sure as shit isn’t going to do it himself, though he doesn’t know if they should really be doing this in the first place...

Whatever. Whatever, it’s too late.

Buggy counted one hundred and seventy-five different marines on Crocodile’s list, and the worst part: Crocodile says he’s actively trying to find out more names, and they’re…They’re fucking doomed. At this point, Buggy just has to pick which way he wants to die, and to be honest… He’d rather die by the Marines' hands than Crocodile’s.  

He finds himself anxiously roaming around and just… taking in the view of his island and all the men at work. Even with Mihawk and Crocodile around, Emptee Bluffs Island is bustling and filled with life, and to think that all that could be taken away in a moment's notice just because of Crocodile’s stupid pla--

“Hey, Clown.” God, what now?  Buggy thinks to himself, hating the way that Crocodile can’t be bothered to use his actual name most of the time. “I forgot to tell you that I want a main ship built right away.”

Buggy sighs, turning around to face his tormentor, ”But my men are already busy trying to fix the ships the marines didn’t completely destroy.”

“And? Find someone to build me a flagship, and make it quick.”

So bossy and annoying… Buggy closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. If he lets his pride and his ego get the best of him right now, he’s going to lose his life. For once in his life, he should just shut up… But the urge to tell Crocodile to go to hell is so strong…Crocodile’s so demanding, and Buggy… just wants to…

“Yes.” He replies a moment later, not wanting to get on Crocodile’s bad side again, he’s had enough of that for a lifetime. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” He tries to end the conversation there and walk away, but Crocodile stops him, “One last thing, clown, about your appearance…”

After Crocodile has threatened to sell him into slavery, beat him senseless, took over his island, and gave him the world’s most unreasonable requests and expected him to fulfill everything in such a short amount of time, why was the straw that broke the camel's back Crocodile criticizing his appearance? “I don’t want Cross Guild to be seen as a joke. Get rid of the onesie and the annoying red nose.”

Get rid of the annoying red nose…

He told him to…He told him to…. Buggy stares at Crocodile, speechless, he feels like saying something he might regret, but it’ll get him killed. He wants to live… this whole time he’s been fighting for his life…and to throw it away so carelessly… “Understand?” Crocodile asks with a displeased look now on his face, not that Buggy knows why he’s looking at him like that.

Get rid of the annoying red nose.

This altercation marks the first (and last) time Buggy tells Crocodile to, “Eat shit and die.” and things go as well as one would expect them to as soon as the insult leaves his mouth. He really should have kept his big mouth shut, but he didn’t, and instantly ends up regretting his actions, like always.

Crocodile chases Buggy all around the island, face red and filled with rage as he screams every cuss word imaginable at Buggy, and Buggy runs away like he owes Crocodile money, which, coincidentally, he does. “I’msosorry,” He babbles out, and the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ has to be his favorite phrase considering how often he uses it these days, “I didn’t mean to…” Oh, who is he kidding? He met everything he said, but he doesn’t think he should get murdered for his words alone.

Buggy runs past a few of his beloved crew members: Cabaji, Mohji and Richie, and finally, Alvida, but no one seems interested in helping him out. They all watch as he runs by, looking confused, then horrified, then once realization finally sets in, they simply look the other way. Cowards! All of em are cowards, and they have absolutely no loyalty!  

Crocodile does end up capturing Buggy though, he’s incredibly stubborn and that is yet another thing that Buggy has come to find out about his new business partner. He also really hates being insulted, go figure, and ends up punching the shit out of Buggy’s poor face, again, leaving welts all over him as he so graciously reminds Buggy that he can gut him like a fish at any moment if he wanted to and that he’s lucky to be alive.

Buggy begs for mercy the entire time, but that only seems to anger Crocodile more and he calls him…What was it…? Oh, that’s right, he calls him ‘A worthless coward who should have never been made an emperor’, and then proceeds to tell him how much he hates him.

He makes Buggy feel so good about himself…haha…

They never come to an agreement, Crocodile just grows tired of kicking Buggy’s ass and leaves, and Buggy winds up filled with more hatred than before for Crocodile, picking himself and his teeth up off the ground after his beating, skull still throbbing from Crocodile’s wrath. Okay, maybe he deserved that ass-kicking, but he still thinks Crocodile went a little too far… Nevertheless, Buggy continues on with his day, now instructing some of his crew who are shipwrights to build Crocodile his stupid ship for stupid Cross Guild, hoping that for once his crew will do something half-assed and that the ship will end up sinking or capsizing when Crocodile (and hopefully only Crocodile.) is onboard.

((A/N: Redeeming this fucker (Crocodile) is going to be a BITCH. Trust in me and the process, we'll get to where we need to go though. Thanks for reading, i love you pookies~! ALSO P.S ...Think the next few chapters might have depressed Buggy sooo.. BUT TRUST IN THE PROCESS BABIES.))

[andavs]

So I watched Bumblebee...

...

The jeep was bright blue and the most obnoxious vehicle Derek had ever seen, but it was perfect. It was a 1980 CJ5 and once the list of defects was read aloud, he was the only bidder so he got it for next to nothing. Not that the price could’ve kept him from buying it, because Laura had a thing for jeeps. 

Specifically older jeeps, none of that Cherokee or Sahara or SUV kind of models—she liked Jeeps. And she also liked to rant about shoddy craftsmanship of modern models and how they weren’t really jeeps… Derek usually tuned her out by the time she got to the wave hierarchy.

For someone who didn’t actually own a jeep and never actually had, she really liked jeeps.

And she would really like this one.

There was the expected wear of a vehicle over thirty years old and some body damage from an accident; the leather seat was ripped, and it looked like there was a scorch mark near the driver’s side door, a sizable dent in the passenger side. Aside from that, it seemed as though the jeep was relatively well taken care of, until it ended up in a county abandoned vehicle auction.

It would definitely take some work, and he'd probably have to replace everything under the hood, but it was worth it to see Laura happy and excited.

It had been a long time since she was happy and excited.

Now he just had to get it home to get it fixed up, without it breaking down on the side of the road. And despite the fact that he was going to have to fix every part of it in some way, that seemed like the much greater challenge at the moment.

The jeep lurched violently as he shifted, and he struggled briefly to get it into gear. That was where he could really feel the age of the car; he never had any difficulty shifting in his Camaro.

"Clutch, dude."

He slammed on the brakes and the jeep swerved violently to the side of the empty highway. Derek twisted around in his seat to threaten whoever the hell stowed away in the back seat, eyes glowing and furious— 

But the back seat was empty.

There were no other heartbeats, no muffled breathing, and the trunk was far too small for anyone to fit into, even if they did somehow manage to conceal the sounds of a living, breathing person.

"First clutch, then gas—seriously have you never driven stick?"

That time the voice came from the other direction, and he turned back towards the front.

The radio was off, his phone was in his pocket...

“Oh, and there’s a weird kind of delay? So wait a second before the gas or it stalls, and you gotta put some muscle into it.”

Derek did as the disembodied voice instructed and the car jerkily started forward again.

So the jeep was haunted. Cool.

*

The ghost’s name was Stiles, and he was the most obnoxious person, living or dead, that Derek had ever met. He never thought he could have such disdain for a disembodied voice, but the very sound of it was starting to fill him with such a deep-seated rage and irritation that there were new claw holes in the side of the leather seat.

Okay, not entirely true. He’d grown to hate a lot of radio personalities over the years, but at least there were music breaks and they were limited to the hours of their show. They babbled for an hour and then they stopped.

Stiles had no such limitations. If the car was on, he was talking.

And talking.

And talking.

“I was stuck in an impound lot for who knows how long! Of course I want to talk!”

Derek rolled his eyes, thankful that Stiles didn’t seem to be able to see anything, because he would probably have something to say about that too. 

“Well I don’t,” Derek said flatly, hoping his tone conveyed just how much he didn’t want to talk, “so shut up.”

His tone did nothing.

“Was that supposed to be threatening?” He wasn’t laughing, but Stiles sounded entirely too amused, which just pissed Derek off even more. “What are you going to do, hit me?” He taunted. “Punch the dashboard? Run into a tree? I’m dead, dude, you can’t hurt a ghost!”

“Are you sure about that? Because I’m sure I could find a way.”

“Please do, I’d love to watch you fail.”

Derek turned onto his street. He was almost home. In just a few short seconds, he could turn the car off. 

“You can’t even see.”

“But I have a very vivid imagination.”

He turned into his driveway.

“That sounds like a brooding silence,” Stiles continued. “Deep frown, furrowed brow, are you clenching your jaw? I think I can hear teeth grinding.”

As if he could hear anything over the deafening, rattling roar of the shitty jeep.

Derek said nothing as he unclenched his jaw.

“Do you have prominent cheekbones? I’m picturing cheekbones, maybe some artfully tousled—”

“Oh look, we’re home,” Derek interrupted, deadpan, and parked the jeep in his garage.

“Oh no, don’t you dare turn me off! Derek! Der—”

He turned the key and breathed a sigh of relief at the blissful sound of silence.

*

It was a full week and a half before he turned the jeep on again. 

A week and a half of standing in the door of the garage, staring at it for three minutes, and then closing the door and walking away. 

A week and a half of opening the driver’s side door, hesitating, and slamming it shut again (because the lock didn’t catch properly unless he slammed it). 

A week and a half of steadily mounting guilt eating away at his stomach until he couldn’t take it any longer and stormed out to the garage at four in the morning to turn the damn car on, only to be greeted by an irate Stiles calling him a dick and a number of other colorful names. Followed by the deafening squeal of audio feedback in retaliation.

They finally reached a tentative truce; Derek would start the jeep every day, and Stiles would learn to shut the hell up when Derek needed a break.

Starting the jeep daily turned into taking it out for a drive daily, usually to the auto parts store so he could get some advice from the employees about what he needed to buy for it.

“Everything,” was the answer he got, so he sighed and handed over his credit card, silently wondering if this stupid jeep was even worth it. 

He wasn’t giving it to Laura with a ghost, so why even bother fixing it up? He asked himself that a lot, late at night while he stared up at the ceiling in bed. He didn’t need a jeep, especially one with so little room for anything more than two people. His Camaro had a larger backseat, a larger trunk, more power—it was better than the old blue jeep in pretty much every way except getting up a steep driveway without scraping the front bumper.

Except his Camaro didn’t contain the last remaining consciousness of a person. 

His Camaro wasn’t the one thing keeping that person from fading from existence. 

It wasn’t the one thing he enjoyed talking to.

Well, not talking to—bickering with, more like. Arguing. Insulting. Their conversations were usually just shy of mutual verbal abuse, and for some reason, Derek kind of enjoyed it. He was spending thousands of dollars and hours of labor to continue interacting with a single person, in a manner that could barely be considered more eloquent than a YouTube comments section.

Maybe it was because no matter how nasty he got, Stiles gave it right back. Stiles didn’t walk away and cut off contact. He didn’t let Derek’s shitty moods linger in his mind and poison their next conversation. He didn’t drag it up to use it against him. He called him a dick, a tool, a monumental douchebag, and moved on to his next thought.

Except it wasn’t just bickering and insults. Not anymore.

Because Stiles got it. He understood. He understood when Derek went quiet for days at a time and drove through the neighborhood for hours without saying a word. He understood when Derek started the car and just sat there in the driver’s seat in his garage, staring at the unfinished drywall he’d put up and never painted. He never even taped the seams.

“I get it, dude,” Stiles said during one of those days. “So I’m just going to keep talking and you can jump in whenever you’re ready.”

And oddly enough, it helped. When Stiles rambled on from one topic to the next, spewing facts and anecdotes he’d read at some point, it dragged Derek out of his spiraling thoughts and guilt and grief and gave him something to focus on that wasn’t his own self-loathing. His pity parties, as Stiles had dismissively named them, but even that helped in some twisted way.

“I’m not going to be the goody bag at your pity party,” he’d said like he was quoting something, and then given Derek entirely too much information about the bathroom situation in Versailles. 

“You’re going to have to replace the transmission as soon as possible if you’re going to keep driving this,” Dave said, shaking his head at the mess under the hood of the jeep. 

Derek nodded, resigned, and handed over his credit card.

*

For all that Stiles talked, he never talked about himself. Derek wasn’t really sure how the whole ghost thing worked, but if Stiles could remember the entire history of the imperial system of measurement, it seemed like he should remember his own life. And yet, he never mentioned it. The entire history of the Genovese crime family, yes, Derek had heard it twice, but nothing personal about Stiles.

The few times Derek had asked, he got vague answers. The kind of answers that made it sound like he was hiding something big. Talking around specifics, not referencing any names, occupations, locations—anything that could be used to identify him.

Normally, this would be a giant red flag and send Derek running into the night, but Stiles was a ghost. He was dead. He couldn’t even change the radio station, let alone hurt someone, so Derek let it slide. Plus, he was fun. And Derek couldn’t remember the last time he’d used that word to describe anything in his life.

*

“You’re going to have to pound this out,” Dave said, gesturing to the pretty significant dent on the passenger side of the jeep. “What happened? Did you hit a tree or something?”

Derek shrugged, told him it was there when he bought it, and accepted his recommendations for a few body shops in the area. But the thought lingered.

It had crossed his mind before, plenty of times, but never more than a passing thought. It felt strangely invasive, asking a ghost how they died. Was there etiquette for that? How did one approach that subject this far into a relationship?

“Did you die in this car?” Derek asked bluntly one afternoon, ripping off the bandaid with all of the tact and finesse he usually showed in social situations.

Luckily Stiles was used to that by now and didn’t bat a proverbial eye.

“Probably? Don’t remember.”

Derek frowned at the freeway in front of him, letting the roar of the jeep’s new engine fill the silence. “You don’t remember your death?” That seemed like the kind of thing that would leave an impression.

“Weird, right? Kind of seems like a major milestone in someone’s life.”

To say the least.

“Dude, you have to look me up!” Stiles said excitedly, like the idea just came to him. “Stiles Stilinski, with an I.”

Derek didn’t exactly jump for his phone, and not just because he was driving.

“Where’s the I?”

“Everywhere, it’s like the only vowel in my name. Just do it. I need to know if my death was as embarrassingly pathetic as the rest of my life.”

Well that was depressing. And a very effective guilt trip.

When he got home and parked the jeep in his garage, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and guessed how to spell Stiles’ name. He guessed wrong, and even when he corrected it, he didn’t find anything. Just an old voter record website and some totally locked down social media profiles that didn’t even have a picture of his face.

“Wow, so I made zero impact even in death.”

Derek shifted uncomfortably and kept himself from pointing out darkly that even if Stiles hadn’t, his jeep had made a big one. Into something very hard.

“Okay hang on,” he bounced back quickly, “if my jeep was in an accident, there would be an accident report! That should say what happened!”

This was turning into a much bigger project than Derek expected.

“How am I supposed to find that? You don’t know where it happened, and even if you did, I don’t think the cops give out accident reports to anyone who asks.”

Stiles sighed dramatically. “Just get a laptop.”

*

Derek wasn’t sure which law he’d broken by using a sheriff’s login to access a national law enforcement database, but he was pretty sure he could go to jail for it.

“It’s fine, I do it all the time,” Stiles had assured him, but he had a feeling a sheriff was much more likely to overlook his own son committing fraud with his account than a complete stranger. Even if his son was directing all of it. As a disembodied voice through his car.

Derek glared at the radio and adjusted the computer on his lap. It was a bit of a tight fit with the steering wheel in the way. And also because it was a jeep from the eighties and was roughly the size of an oven.

Stiles stepped him through the search process. When the license plate and VIN number came up with nothing (and who knew their VIN off the top of their head, even in death?), he got more creative until finally, there was one, single result.

“It says here there was a car accident, a hit and run,” Derek summarized as he scanned through the report. “The jeep was found on the side of the road, no plates, no VIN, no witnesses. The unidentified driver was unconscious and taken to the hospital.”

“Unconscious,” Stiles repeated, immediately latching onto the same point Derek did. “So I’m not dead!”

“Would it say if you died later at the hospital?”

“Probably depends on how much later it was. When did the accident happen?”

Derek scrolled up to the date. “About a year ago. You don’t remember any of this?”

“Conveniently, it’s a total blank. Where did it happen?” Derek read off the county name, just two over from where he lived, and not the one he’d bought the jeep in. “Great! Just a few hours from Beacon Hills!”

Derek froze, heart starting to pound. It couldn't be...

“California?” It was a stupid question; the state was huge, everything a few hours away from them was still in California.

“Yeah, you know it?”

“No,” he lied, and if Stiles heard the lie, he didn’t push it.

There was no way this was a coincidence, Derek thought frantically. Beacon Hills wasn’t that big and since he left, he’d never met anyone who knew where it was, let alone someone who came from there.

"You have to find me, Derek, I need to know!" Stiles was practically yelling to get his attention, and when Derek still didn’t respond, he sighed dramatically. "I know it's a pain in the ass, and I'd do it myself, but I’m literally a disembodied voice in a jeep.”

Making him feel bad about the fact that he had a body. Annoyingly effective strategy.

“And how exactly am I supposed to find you?” Derek asked, giving in but telling himself he was just playing along. Warning alarms were going off at the back of his mind, every part of him screaming not to go back to the place where he’d lost everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to outright refuse this one thing for Stiles. The only thing he’d outright asked him to do since buying the jeep.

“You know where the crash happened, right? Look for the closest hospital and start there.”

Derek glared at the radio, not appreciating his condescending tone in the least. Stiles was such a dick sometimes.

Most of the time.

The moments he wasn’t a dick were the real anomalies.

“And say I find you,” Derek returned in his own snotty tone, “how exactly am I supposed to identify you? I don’t know what you look like!”

Stiles scoffed like that was somehow Derek’s fault. “Caucasian male, twenty-five, brown hair, brown eyes, five ten, roughly a hundred and fifty-seven pounds, tattoo sleeves on both arms.”

Derek blinked at how quickly he’d rattled that off, but most importantly, 

“Tattoos?”

“What, I don’t sound like I have tattoos?”

“You’re trapped in my car, you don’t sound like you have a body at all.”

“Watch it, buddy. We don’t know that I’m dead, so this isn’t your car yet.”

Derek had a receipt from the auction and a very large credit card balance that said otherwise.

*

As it turned out, the county of the car accident wasn’t exactly a metropolitan area, so there weren’t very many hospitals to search. In fact, there was exactly one within an hour of the crash site.

“You have to go! Even if I died, they’ll at least have the record,” Stiles said like that was an upside. Like Derek wasn’t about to stroll into a hospital and start asking questions about unidentified dead people like some kind of creep.

“And then I get to be the one to call your family and tell them,” Derek muttered quietly under his breath, and if Stiles heard him, he didn’t respond.

He pulled into a parking spot at the back of the lot, even though there were plenty of open spots closer to the hospital, and sat there for a while, psyching himself up for what was about to happen. He was about to walk into a hospital and ask about the probably protected private information of the man whose ghost was haunting the jeep he bought in a county auction.

Totally normal.

“So are you going in, or…?” Stiles asked after a long few minutes of silence.

"Not if you keep bothering me,"  Derek snapped, but took off his seatbelt anyway. There was no way he wasn’t going in.

“Be fast!” Stiles yelled at the last second before he turned off the car.

*

He dragged his feet a bit to the front desk in the lobby, rehearsing how exactly he was going to phrase this, but the woman behind the computer saw him coming and smiled welcomingly and he couldn't turn back after that.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a cheerful smile.

Derek plastered on his best charming smile in return. His approximation of a functioning human being with basic social skills.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a friend of mine. He was in a car accident last June, in a blue jeep.” He rambled on about a disappearance, devastated family, and how they’d been scouring nearby hospitals for any unidentified patients. 

“Oh, of course,” she said sympathetically. “Can you describe him?”

He rattled off the description Stiles gave him as she typed them into the computer, and waited (somewhat) patiently while the system searched. His claws were leaving impatient pinpricks in the wooden desk, but they would probably wouldn’t be too noticeable.

“And you said this was last June?” she asked, clicking around a few times. “We had one John Doe admitted after a car accident that month, a white male in his twenties, with tattoos.”

Derek’s heart started pounding. That had to be Stiles.

“What happened to him?”

He was having a hard time interpreting her professionally neutral yet still pitying expression. “Oh, sweetie. He’s still here.”

*

John Doe 24, was what the name tag outside the door said, and through the blinds in the window, Derek could see the room was filled with machines, blocking his view of the man lying inside. There was a steady beeping, the mechanical whirs and hisses of a ventilator, something dripping from an IV bag.

The social worker who led him there opened the door and stepped aside for him to enter.

The first impression Derek had was that underneath the smell of hospital and sterile medical equipment, he could smell the jeep. Or the person who had driven the jeep for so many years that the scent of him was permanently embedded in the interior.

His second impression was, once the face under all of the wires and tubes and tape registered…

He didn’t know what he expected Stiles to look like. His voice sounded young, a little high and scratchy, he knew a lot about a lot of things—a nerd, was what Derek would say if pressed. Someone who spent way too much time reading Wikipedia and had a “fun fact of the day” calendar for every year since he learned how to read.

Stiles did not look like a nerd.

He was skinny, his cheekbones prominent, but he’d been in a coma for a year. A little weight loss was probably normal, as was the messy, amateur haircut. Brown hair, moles, an upturned nose, but the real identifying trait was the tattoo sleeves. Runes and symbols, starting at his wrists and continuing up under the sleeves of his hospital gown. Most of the symbols Derek had never seen before, but the ones he did recognize…

The triskele.

On its own, it could be nothing. A complete coincidence. But paired with everything else around it...

Stiles knew about werewolves.

“Is this your friend?” the social worker asked, looking hopeful.

Derek swallowed. “That’s Stiles.”

*

Derek slammed the jeep’s door behind him and started the engine.

“Well?” Stiles immediately asked. “What happened?” 

“You know about werewolves,” Derek found himself saying, even though he intended to work that in a little later. After the whole I found your comatose body in the ICU reveal.

There was a beat of silence before a slightly high-pitched and unconvincing, “What?”

“Your tattoos. You know about werewolves?”

“Well that explains why you took this whole haunted car thing so well.” He didn’t elaborate. “But you saw my tattoos? You found me?”

“Yes, I found you,” Derek snapped. “You’re in a coma and you have symbols from werewolf lore tattooed on your body, including the symbol of my dead pack. Why.” Stiles wasn’t a wolf, he could feel that much from seeing him in person. But the only other group that studied werewolf lore so closely were hunters, and if Stiles turned out to be a hunter…

“I’m in a pack, okay?” He paused, and if he had lungs, he would probably be taking a steadying breath. “I’m an emissary, and now you need to call them and tell them where I am, so they can get me out of this coma!”

“What makes you think they can?” Derek snapped, still on edge and maybe a little scared of losing the most intimate connection he’d made with anyone in years. Which was really just sad.

“My consciousness is trapped inside my jeep, Derek, this clearly isn’t your average coma!”

Valid point, Derek admitted with a bitter eyeroll. He could also admit to himself, bitterly, that he couldn’t keep Stiles in a coma forever so he could keep talking to his car. It was selfish and cruel and probably sadistic on some level. The fact that he was completely inept at connecting to real, live humans wasn’t Stiles’ cross to bear and it shouldn’t keep him from potentially waking up and living his life.

“Fine,” Derek said after a long, loaded pause. “Who should I call?”

“My dad, sheriff of Beacon Hills. He’ll handle the rest.”

*

The McCall pack rolled into town like an army and hadn't stopped working since. 

Now that they'd found him, there was always someone at Stiles' bedside at the hospital, while everyone else had set up camp in Derek's garage to work through the problem. They'd brought a mountain of books, computers, all types of occult paraphernalia—anything they could possibly need to fix this.

Meanwhile, Derek was going through an absurd amount of money buying gas for the damn jeep, because now that they had Stiles back, in any kind of form, the pack didn't want to turn off the car and lose him again.

Derek tried to explain that he’d turned the car off and on countless times and Stiles was still there, nagging him constantly, but they didn’t want to risk it. He wanted his garage to stop stinking of exhaust, but there was no way he could deny a father the chance to talk to the son he believed to be dead for over a year.

(Though he definitely wished there was a way he could deny Stiles’ desire to sing ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, screaming it into the garage in the middle of the night over the roar of the jeep’s engine.)

Beyond setting up their base of operations in his living room and taking over most of his home, the McCall pack was also able to fill in a lot of gaps and answer a lot of questions. Namely, what the hell happened to Stiles.

A rogue faction of the Argent family had been closing in on the McCall pack at the time he went missing, and given the way both he and his car had been scrubbed of his identity, it wasn't much of a leap to suspect the hunters were responsible.

"But why not just kill you?" Lydia mused aloud. She was settled in the passenger seat of the jeep with four open books stacked in her lap. "Why go to so much trouble to hide your identity when they could've just killed you and dumped the body? We're right by the mountains, there's plenty of places to do it."

"Why does it sound like you've considered doing this before?" Stiles asked, sounding insulted and a little wary.

"Because you really piss me off sometimes," she said dismissively, and moved right along. "There's no way what they did is neater, especially with the risk of you waking up at the hospital."

"It’s because even hunters wouldn't kill an emissary," Derek cut in from the doorway, stepping forward and putting himself out of his misery. It was actually painful listening to young and inexperienced packs try to navigate the intricacies of the culture. "Emissaries are considered neutral and vital to maintaining the balance, and killing one is like declaring all out war, even as a hunter."

"Ha! See? I'm vital!"

Derek ignored Stiles’ interruption. "Leaving him in a hospital to die from his wounds, completely anonymous, is probably the cleanest way they could’ve handled it. If they killed him outright and his body was identified, it would only be a matter of time before his pack traced it back to them.”

Lydia looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment, processing. Then her eyes hardened.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” She closed the book at the top of her stack with a threatening finality Derek had never mastered. “We’re going to war.”

*

Considering that up until recently, Stiles had become something of an emotional crutch and coping mechanism for Derek, it was ironic that he suddenly found himself filling that roll for all of Stiles’ pack.

Scott, the impossibly young alpha sought him out on the back porch almost every evening, and spent an hour picking his brain on everything from werewolf culture to the guilt he felt for not finding Stiles himself sooner.

“I never felt him die, but after so many months…” Lydia confessed quietly one morning in the kitchen, her hands clasped tightly around a mug of coffee that had turned lukewarm an hour ago. Her eyes were haunted with a grief Derek knew all too well. “It was easier. To accept that I was wrong. It was easier to give up.”

He ran into Stiles’ father just outside the garage door at four in the morning, leaning against the wall with red-rimmed eyes.

“I had alerts for his name, the plates…” he started, and Derek could remember that regret. The constant, unrelenting scream at the back of his mind that he should’ve known. That he should’ve done more. That he should’ve been able to stop her.

“The plates were removed,” Derek explained, hoping to save the man from some tiny bit of what he’d gone through. “The VIN, all of the insurance information, his wallet—anything that could identify him or the car.”

"But he was a—” He swallowed, cutting himself off before his voice got loud enough for Stiles to hear through the garage door. “If he didn't have any ID, it's standard procedure to do a search for missing persons, I should've gotten an alert, I should've found him!"

"Hunters have people everywhere. It's possible the police kept it under the radar for them."

The Sheriff rubbed a hand over his mouth, practically vibrating with emotion.

"My son has been sitting here for a year, as a John Doe. Just three hours away."

Derek had nothing to say to that.

*

"Is he hot? He sounds hot."

Derek froze outside the garage door at Stiles’ question. He would deny to anyone who asked and himself that he in any way cared about the answer.

"He's very hot," Lydia said with an uncomfortably approving tone. "Muscles, stubble, a great ass."

Derek wanted to die.

*

In the end, it was a simple fix. 

In his last moments of consciousness, when the hunters were approaching the crashed jeep to drag Stiles off, he’d run. Not physically, his body had been too broken for that, but mentally. His consciousness fled, and aided by his emissary magic, it jumped to the closest thing capable of housing it.

“At least there wasn’t like, a skunk walking by,” Stiles joked, and Derek was the only one who grinned at the thought. 

“Both his body and consciousness need to be in the same place,” Lydia explained, and she made it sound like that alone would allow Stiles to return to his body. A simple fix.

So Derek disconnected the radio from the dashboard, and the pack took it to the hospital, and Derek was left sitting there in a silent car, staring at the loose wires dangling from the dash and suddenly feeling more alone than he had in years.

The pack hadn’t asked if he wanted to go and he wasn’t about to impose on such a monumental and emotional moment, but he wanted to. He wanted to be there when Stiles opened his eyes. He wanted to see how he looked when he was happy or annoyed, how he looked when he called Derek a dick, if his eyes went distant in those rare moments he went quiet. He wanted to see the recognition on his face. 

But would he recognize him? 

Would he remember him at all? 

Did a ghostly consciousness retain memories of what happened outside of its body, stuck in a car radio?

He started the car once more, a new habit when he wanted to just stop thinking and live in the now, but aside from the rumble of the brand new, powerful engine, it was quiet.

Stiles was gone.

*

“He wants to see you,” Lydia said with some judgment two days later. This time her coffee was still warm and the bags under her eyes and lightened. A book on werewolf traditions was open in front of her, to the chapter on formal declarations of war, so she was clearly intending to make good on her promise of justice for Stiles.

Derek couldn’t say how Scott and the Sheriff were handling things because he was pretty sure they’d been sleeping at the hospital since Stiles opened his eyes. He hadn’t seen them once.

Derek concentrated on pouring himself the perfect amount of coffee and retreated to the garage. The new radio arrived that morning.

*

He was being an idiot, Derek told himself, sitting there in the jeep in the hospital parking lot. The new radio was still in its box in the passenger seat, because though he’d gone out to the garage to install it, he ended up at the hospital.

Stiles wanted to see him, so he clearly remembered him. He wasn’t going to walk into the room and meet the eyes of a stranger.

But he didn’t think he could handle seeing the recognition and then being looked over for something better. Stiles had his friends and family, the people he loved and who loved him, the most important people in his life right there at his side. Derek had a strained and distant relationship with his sister across the country and an unhealthy attachment to the disembodied voice of a ghost that used to live in his jeep.

Stiles’ jeep.

He would probably be wanting his car back now that he wasn’t dead, and Derek wouldn’t deny him that. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, not after everything Stiles had done for him. Put up with for him. He had a stupid, deeply ingrained impulse to repay debts out of self-defense, and restoring the jeep Stiles loved so much could only account for a fraction of what Derek owed him.

“That might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Stiles said, and Derek’s eyes flicked over to the loose wires hanging from the dashboard. 

Great, now he was hearing his voice in his mind. Would he ever escape Stiles’ commentary on every thought he had?

“No,” Stiles answered, matter of factly. “So are you going in, or…?” 

Derek glared out through the windshield at the Subaru parked in across from him, telling himself he wasn’t going to let the phantom of Stiles’ judgment dictate his life. He lasted all of twenty seconds before he turned off the car and got out.

*

The John Doe name tag had been replaced with one that said Stiles Stilinski, was the first thing Derek noticed approaching Stiles’ new room. There was also a slightly creepy illustration of a rabbit with a basket of Easter eggs taped up next to it, even though they were nowhere near Easter.

Derek really took his time staring at it, shamefully stalling but refusing to give in to the soulless, judgmental eyes of the smiling rabbit. He wasn’t being a coward, he just wasn’t going to lose to that damn rabbit.

“Creepy, right?” Scott said as he came up beside him, and Derek nodded. “His dad and I are about to go grab some lunch, but you can go in.”

Derek nodded again, and as the Sheriff passed him, he squeezed his arm reassuringly. Or sympathetically. Derek didn’t know him well enough to know how to interpret that.

A full two minutes after they left, Derek pushed open the door and walked into Stiles’ room.

Stiles didn’t notice him at first; he was frowning down at the remote to the TV, and stabbing at the buttons, trying to change the channel from a sappy Lifetime movie. It looked like he hadn’t quite found his coordination yet, but given that he’d been in a coma for a year, Derek was amazed he was moving at all. Magic probably had something to do with that.

He still looked small in his hospital bed, but his shoulders were broad and suggested he wouldn’t look very small at all once he regained his strength and muscles. There were dark circles under his eyes and a scar in his hairline that was hard to ignore, but he was sitting up and the breathing tube was gone and when he finally changed the channel and sneered down at the remote in victory, his brow crinkled.

Derek’s life would’ve been a lot easier if he’d been ugly.

Stiles looked up to the TV to see what channel he’d landed on, his tongue poking out through his lips in concentration, and froze when he noticed Derek standing in the doorway. Silently, without announcing his presence, like some kind of stalker.

They stared at each other for probably a solid minute, Stiles totally confused and Derek suddenly at a complete loss for anything to say after a month of saying whatever the hell he wanted to Stiles through the radio. Then it visibly clicked on Stiles’ face and he smiled crookedly and reached out, and Derek had no choice but to step forward and take his slightly shaky hand.

A month of talking and driving, arguing, bickering, fighting, and sitting in stubborn, angry silence, and now finally, they were touching.

“Hey, Derek.”

His voice was quiet and scratchy, still regaining its strength after a year of silence, but that was definitely Stiles’ voice.

Stiles was back.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤

[c-c-cherry]

Part Four Headcanons!!

@tyriantyrant​ Father...I’m so sorry this took so long...but it is finally here. The moment has come. 

@jjadegreen​ is and always will be my headcanon buddy and she really took the reins on this one because my stupid mushy brain could barely think of ANYTHING. Go check her out. She makes good shit. If you like headcanons you’ll love her. 

Without further ado, join us on this long-awaited half-crack half-serious journey once more:

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Okuyasu

-He swallowed a spoon. Like...one of those tiny collector spoons...

-Don’t ask me how Okuyasu managed to do this, but he did.

-He was sitting in his room trying to think of something cool he could do in front of Josuke and he was like 

”Bro what if I did some kickass spoon trick” (Yes, he did find a little collector’s spoon at an antique shop and bought it cause it was shiny)

-It did not go well

-He choked on it for like a solid 2 minutes before he FUCKING SWALLOWED IT and sat there for 15 minutes like “oh shit oh fuck-”

-His dad was just watching from the corner like ;-;

-At first he’s like “ahh it’ll be fine, right?”

-”Right?”

-Then he starts thinking about it a bit more and realizes how fucked he probably is

-He COULD call Josuke but he really doesn’t want to explain to him that he not only swallowed a tiny fucking spoon but he also did it while simultaneously trying to think of something cool to do in front of him

-So he doesn’t call Josuke

-Instead he paces around, trying to think of some solution:

Can I throw it back up or something?

Should I like...drink that stuff that makes metal dissolve? That’ll work, right? Shit wait-

Maybe it’ll just turn out okay?

-His chest is on FIRE and he’s absolutely convinced that this is the end for him

-He calls Josuke

-There are tears...many tears

-Our boy Josuke rushes over and starts freaking out because all he knows is “Oku’s hurt” and when he bursts through the door Okuyasu’s just sitting on the couch crying and Josuke’s just “???”

-He’s the most supportive bro tho and sits down on the couch and is like “oh shit bro did you need emotional healing instead? I gotchu either way” :’)

-He reaches over to hug him and Oku jumps back in a panic and screams “NO DUDE DON’T JOSTLE THE SPOON”

”...”

“..the spoon?”

-He tearily explains the spoon

-It ends with Josuke punching the spoon out of him with Crazy Diamond but he found the entire situation so fucking funny because Oku is so fucking mortified

-he swore not to tell a soul and keeps to his word but he buys Oku a tiny spoon every goddamn chance he gets

Rohan

-Most of the time, Rohan does not embarrass himself

-But sometimes our man slips up a bit and most of the time people don’t notice the dumb shit he does cause he’s always doing dumb shit

-But this is different

-Picture an almost empty house...instant ramen wrappers everywhere...alcohol has been consumed…things have been done...

-Rohan thought this was the best time to answer some of his fan’s FAQ’s (he puts them at the end of every new issue)

-He answers most of them fine but once he comes to the “how tall are you?” question his mushy stupid brain decides to put “about ten inches.” (GOD I'M BEGGING YOU IF YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THIS REFERENCE OPEN GOOGLE AND LOOK UP “how tall is Rohan Kishibe?” PLEASE PLEASE I BEG)

-Just for fun

-Because his editor will just fix it, won’t they? Even if he wakes up the next morning and forgets about it, it could never get past the other stages of publishing, right?

-Wrong.

-It manages to slip past every single stage and before he knows it, the latest issue is out and it says he’s almost a foot tall

-He’s reading the one of the newly published copies at breakfast and SPITS OUT HIS FUCKING LUKEWARM SHITTY TEA

-He calls his publisher and just like “uhhh...hey...what the actual fuck guys?” and apparently NONE Of THEM NOTICED??

-They swipe them off the shelves and re-edit them but by now its far too late

-Josuke and Okuyasu have already made jokes about squishing him

-He gets fanart of him being the size of a pencil (which he’s convinced are also done by Josuke and Okuyasu)

-The banned issue where Rohan discloses his supposed “true height” is a novelty collectors item in the manga community now

-This is Rohan’s legacy now. This is how he will be remembered

Josuke

-He wanted to be super edgy when he was around 14

-And what better way to be an edgy 14 year old than with cigarettes??

-The problem is that he’s a literal fucking dumbass and doesn’t know how they work

-Like at all

-He somehow gets his hands on a pack and tries to do it in front of his friends to impress them

-He doesn’t light it. He just...sucks on it??

-He sucks really hard on the unlit cigarette while all of his friends watch and there’s this really long silence and all of them are thinking “yeah is this actually how it works though?”

-Josuke’s like “waitwaitwait I can make smoke come out of it watch” and sucks way too hard on it and IT GETS LODGED IN HIS FUCKING WINDPIPE

-He starts choking because he really really, doesn’t wanna swallow this thing and all of his friends are like “OH SHIT SHIT”

-There’s always that one homie who knows the Heimlich maneuver and on that day, the Heimlich is maneuvered.

-He coughs up a wet cigarette covered in nasty throat juices and his mouth tastes like shit

-He’s still totally shocked about what just happened and just kinda starts laughing but everyone can tell that its forced

-Everyone forgets about it and he’s too embarrassed to tell a soul but the Heimlich kid and him make eye contact in the hallways sometimes and he’s always reminded of that fateful day

-This is the soul reason why Josuke never smoked in high school and probably never will again

Koichi

-This might seem off topic to start but please just bear with me.

-why, for any reason, does Koichi know who joseph is??? Joseph is an American Real Estate agent. Why would a 15 year old Japanese kid be like “oh yeah that famous real estate agent Joseph Joestar”???

-well I present to you the most top tier headcanon: Koichi is a real estate fanboy.

-he planned to be a real estate agent before getting wrapped up into stand shenanigans

-But, being 15 and having REAL ESTATE as one of your biggest interests is not something you really want people knowing, especially considering the fact Koichi is a huge nerdy real estate fanboy for Josuke’s DAD.

-He buys these real estate magazines made for 45 year old men like once a week. They are what he looks forward to every week.

-one time Josuke and Oku come visit and see a magazine on Koichi's bed.

-He totally panics and dives for the magazine and tries to hide it, acting all nervous.

-Josuke and Oku immediately assume it’s a… y’know, NSFW, not for kids magazine.

-Because why would koichi need to be embarrassed about any other kind of magazine?

-So antics ensue of Josuke and Oku pestering koichi about the magazine, teasing him and begging to know what he was hiding

-after a few days, Koichi begrudgingly admits that the magazine is the “SPECIAL JOSEPH JOESTAR INTERVIEW ISSUE” which he bought 3 years ago and has reread countless times.

-Okuyasu laughs really hard and Josuke is like “...you mean my dad.....” and koichi wants to DIE

-They buy him real estate merchandise for his 16th birthday and EVERYONE thinks it’s some kind of joke gift but koichi is internally grateful

Jotaro

-Jotaro is not very good during social situations. That is very obvious.

-but when he hears that Koichi got a girlfriend, he decides he wants to be a cool…uncle? Nephew? Father figure? Mentor?

-so one day, Koichi and Jotaro are chatting while they go on a walk and Yukako walks by

-Koichi blushes and waves at her, she waves too

-Jotaro thinks, ‘alright. Time to show koichi I’m a cool guy’

-as Yukako walks away, Jotaro nudges koichi and sorta smirks

-Jotaro forget a few very important things about himself and Koichi:

-first of all, Koichi is so short, attempting to nudge the kid ended in Jotaro violently jabbing his elbow into Koichi’s skull

-Jotaro is much stronger than he thinks and Koichi, while he can take a hit, is very much weaker than Jotaro

-so an attempt at a simple nudge ends in Koichi being jabbed in the skull, flung into the road by the force of the hit, and hitting his head, hard, on the cement.

-needless to say Jotaro called and ambulance and Yukako tried to literally murder Jotaro

-He ended up with a mild concussion, but no long term damage.

-Jotaro is Not Good At Words so he apologizes in weird awkward ways like buying koichi stuff, quietly handing him 5,000 yen at random times, taking him out on the town, etc...

-Koichi keeps insisting it was an accident and he’s alright, but Jotaro feels AWFUL

-He NEVER lives that moment down in his mind

-It’ll be 2008 and Jotaro is visiting and he’ll just look the newly married koichi in his tiny eyes and say “hmhghggggg is your head ok”

-and koichi is like “IT WAS 9 YEARS AGO MR JOTARO PLEASE”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

That was a wild ride I’m so sorry

Did ya’ll have a favourite? I gotta say, real estate Koichi is just...Jade, thank you for that...

Have you seen our embarrassing part 5 headcanons yet? If not, go check that out!

[all-hail-the-witcher]

save your strength and stay alive

so so so

today is,,,fizz’s birthday !!!

yeah my two internet friends have birthdays one day apart what were the heckin odds

anyway so forever ago I wrote this au where Albert was this weird low key villain and now heres part three

part 1

part 2

_____

ship: I honestly dont even know, failed ralbert, platonic sprace ??

genre: the phattest angst

warnings: character death, car accidents, bleeding, lots of blood, abuse mentions, sex mentions, mentions of low key cheating, sorta panic attack, major guilt, sad stuff, rain, thunder storms, cursing, be careful kids

editing: m e h

words: 2030

_____

Spot squinted into the rain, flinching every time a boom of thunder banged in the sky above him. The wind was howling, almost drowning out the pounding of his heart that sounded in his ears with every breath. The dirt road was thick with mud and he knew that he could get stuck at any moment.

But getting stuck wasn’t an option. He had to find Race.

Hopefully there was still a Race left to find.

The rain was coming down in sheets so thick that even with his headlights on high he could hardly see a foot in front of the car. It didn’t help that he was on one of the back roads of the Blue Ridge Mountains and was, hence, surrounded by trees.

But, this was Race’s thinking spot. There was a clearing about another mile or so down this road that Race would go to when he was overwhelmed and needed to clear his head. Spot couldn’t imagine that there was any other place he could have gone, but he had made Romeo stay at home just in case Race decided to come back.

“Fucking hell,” Spot cursed as a crack of lightning pierced the sky. He hated the thought of Race being out in this weather: alone, miserable, and suffering. They wouldn’t even be in this predicament if it weren’t for Albert Fucking DaSilva.

Spot still couldn’t believe that Albert had intentionally hit Race. It didn’t matter what someone’s past was, any person should have the decency and the sense alone not to hit someone.

And then there was the fact that he had made out with someone mere minutes after hooking up with Race. Spot understood that one night stands came with their own set of rules and were not for those, like himself, who had standards, but it seemed odd to him that Albert had decided to make out with Finch when Race was standing in the same room and then have the audacity to ask for a round two.

But then again, what did his virgin ass know?

The bottom line still remained though: Albert had hurt Race worse than anyone had in years, and, once Spot found Race, they were not allowed near each other again. There was no one in the entire world that Spot cared about more than Race and Romeo. At this point the both of them practically lived with Spot and his mom since Race’s dad was never around and when he was he was always drunk and both of Romeo’s parents spent weeks on end in DC where they worked with the Secret Service.

The three of them had grown up together and vowed to always protect each other. He and Race had wreaked havoc on a few of Romeo’s particularly nasty exes. Spot was certain that he and Romeo would be doing the same to Albert. No one messed with their family.

There was a piercing BOOM! and Spot jumped, losing control of the wheel for a second. His tires slid across the slick mud and he struggled to regain control of the car.

“Fuck come on!” Spot tensed his arm muscles as he turned the wheel as hard as he could into the skid. His foot fumbled for the brake pedal and he put all his weight into slamming it into the ground. He held his breath, waiting for the car to stop and hopefully not skid into the tree line, but, just when he thought he was safe, he felt his car smack into something very, very solid.

Spot’s eyes flew open - when had he closed them? - and was met with the sight of the bed of Race’s unmistakably totaled pickup truck smashed into the front of his car.

For one second Spot sat paralyzed with fear, a million scenarios running through his head: he had just killed his best friend, no, Race wasn’t in the car, no he had to be in the car, but, since he had hit the bed of his truck maybe he was okay, Spot’s airbag hadn’t gone off so maybe it wasn’t that bad but he could be bleeding out or dead or dying or severely injured or dead he could be dead he could be dead what the hell was he doing he could have just killed his best friend-

Spot wrestled with his seatbelt and pushed open his door, not even feeling the rain as it soaked him through. The drivers door of Race’s car was smashed in -which later Spot would realize meant that the accident was not his fault because he had hit the bed of the truck, not the side- and after struggling with the handle for a minute Spot gave up and went around the passenger’s side. Thankfully, the door was fully intact on this side and Spot pulled it open.

The first thing he registered was Race leaning against the wrecked drivers side door and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then he saw the blood.

It was everywhere. On the seats, the door, the dashboard, the floor the shards of broken glass, and Race’s clothes, face and hair. Spot had never seen so much blood.

He pulled out his phone, praying that there was service out here in the middle of nowhere in a rainstorm, and dialed 911 - better to do that now than when he was choked up and overwhelmed by his actions later.

Then he ducked into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut behind him. If he was going to die, he might as well be a little less soaked.

“Race?” Spot called over the rain. “You with me?”

There was no response.

Spot’s stomach clenched and he scooted closer, extremely mindful of the broken glass scattered around him. He reached out to touch Race’s shoulder, but stopped short when he remembered the earlier interaction with Albert.

“Fucking DaSilva,” Spot muttered, opting to instead lean closer to his best friend. “Antonio,” he said firmly. “Can you hear me?”

Please respond, please respond, please respondpleaserespondpleasepleaseplease-

“S-sean?”

And just like that, everything was okay again.

“Yeah, I’m here, it’s okay.” Spot tried to sound soothing despite his nerves and the terrible looming thought that he was the one responsible for the accident. But, he needed to hear it from Race. “What happened kid?”

“Seanie, you’re-” Race coughed painfully and Spot winced, “uh, bleein’. Wha’ ‘appened?’”

“What?” Spot was confused and looked down at himself briefly before remembering that he was not the primary concern. “That doesn’t matter right now, kid. Can you tell me what hurts?”

“M’ ‘ead,” Race mumbled, closing his eyes again. “An’ m’ leg is stuck.”

“Okay.” Spot surveyed the wreck and saw that Race’s left leg was, in fact, pinned between the seat and the crushed door. Spot then noticed with alarm that there was a bloody stain on both the driver’s window and the steering wheel that matched with the injuries on Race’s head. At first, Spot wondered why the airbags hadn’t gone off, but then he remembered that Race had taken his airbags out to replace them with better ones because when he had bought his truck there had been a recall on them, but had never gotten around to it.

Spot put his head in his hands. He had insisted that Race reinstall the airbags in his truck, but clearly he hadn’t tried hard enough. Maybe if he had tried harder this wouldn’t have happened. Like maybe if he hadn’t agreed to let Race go to that party he wouldn’t be bleeding out right now. Maybe if he had just put in a little more effort, cared a little more this wouldn’t have-

“S’potti’?” Race’s weak voice pierced through Spot’s thoughts. “Wha’s wron’?”

There were so many things he could have said. I’m sorry I let Albert hit you? I’m sorry I let you go to that party? I’m sorry I didn’t force you to put those new fucking aribags in your truck? I’m sorry we’re sitting here right now? But Spot instead blurted out: “I’m sorry I hit your truck and hurt you like this, I skidded on some mud and it was dark and raining, and I didn’t see you until after I had already hit you and I’m just-I’m so sorry Tony.”

“‘ean, no, i’ wasn’ you- i-” Race’s words started to run together more, but there was a firmness behind them. “I’ wasn’ you. I’ ‘as som’ guy, he ‘it me ‘n drove away, an’ I go’ pushed int’ ‘he door, ‘n then a few mi’ut’s ago somethin’ ‘it th’ back o’ my truck ‘n my ‘ead jus’ bump’d th’ ‘teerin’ wheel, ‘n-”

“That was me Tony,” Spot whispered, cutting him off. “I hit the back of your car. God, I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to, you must be in so much pain, I-”

“No, no,” Race mumbled. “‘topp’d bein’ able t’ feel mucha anytin’ afta th’ firs’ few minutes o’ so.”

This comment did absolutely nothing to calm Spot’s fears.

“‘re you okay tho’?” Race asked, cracking open his eyes again to look at Spot. “‘f your ‘urt you needa take care’o yourself.”

“No, I’m fine kid. Don’t worry about me. The ambulance should be here for you soon anyhow and if they decide I need help, I’ll let them help me.”

Race shot him a sideways look that almost made Spot laugh before his eyes fluttered shut again. For a few painful seconds the silence between them was filled by just the rain pounding on the roof.

“I wish I never let you go to that party,” Spot whispered, toeing at the worn carpet with his boots. “Then none of this would have happened.”

“Don’ be sorry,” Race muttered, barely audible over the rain. “‘s betta this way. I was neva gonna ge’ betta anyway ‘n I was gonna de’troy m’self at somepoin’, betta now than latah, ya know? I’ve fough’ so ‘ard already anyway. There’s no poin’. Least I gotta ‘ave sex wit’ a hot guy on’ las’ time befo’ I died.”

Spot’s head snapped up. Why was Race acting so self destructive? He had probably just had a panic attack and that combined with whatever injuries he had sustained had sucked the last bit of energy out of him. Spot knew that that wasn’t good, Race always gave up in some sense after a panic attack, and he couldn;t have him doing that now, especially not now. He needed Race to keep breathing and survive this.  

“Tony? No, hey, I need you, a lot of people need you, and you're gonna be fine anyway. The ambulance is gonna be here soon and they’re going to help you. It’s all going to be okay. Save your strength, okay?” Most of those words were for Spot’s own sake. He knew it was a very real possibility that Race would not make it, and Race’s own calmness toward the situation was not helping. Whenever Race had previously been injured, he had been freaking out and his state of calm was only adding to Spot’s nerves.

“Sean,” There was a sadness to Race’s voice that Spot had never heard before, “Everythin’s not goin’ t’ be okay, ‘n tha’s alrigh’. You’ll be fine, Ro will be fine, ‘s gonna be okay. I’ve ‘ad som’ time t’ think abou’ it. Jus’ know ‘s not your faul’ alrigh’?”

“Antonio, no, stop that,” Spot felt tears spring up behind his eyes. This was it, he was losing his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. What did you say to someone who had already accepted their death? What were you supposed to say? Did it even matter anymore?

“‘s okay Sean,” Race whispered. “I-” He coughed again and Spot felt his heart clench. “I love you.”

“I love you too, kid,” Spot whispered.

“‘ell Ro I lov’ ‘im too.”

“I will,” Spot promised. “I promise.”

“Thank you fir everythin’,” Race struggled to keep his eyes open. “I couldn’ ‘ave ask’d fir a betta frien’.”

“Of course Antonio,” Spot whispered, watching powerlessly as Race’s eyes fell shut and didn’t open again. “Of course.”

_____

and thats that

there will be one more installment and hopefully you wont have to wait 6 months oops

hbd fizz

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the taglist

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@nico-nat

[punkscowardschampions]

Indie & Rio

Indie: [sends her the posts because no other way she'd see them] Rio: Shit, girl Rio: I was worried it might go down like this Indie: she's so extra Indie: never should have let him in the door Indie: the feds are gonna be hardcore @ it now Rio: Surely she let him out Rio: stupid woman Rio: but that's gonna pale in comparison now so Rio: What's Drew doing about it? Indie: boy was begging for a sick time & i gave it but its on me not him 😒😒 hold ur liquor u tourist Indie: hes flat roofin but other than that no thing to 👀 Indie: it b early tho & we all had a late Rio: They're a 24/7 services though, babe Rio: he'll be wanting to move his stash and generally clear his act up for the visit Rio: you too Indie: is it? on hols too thats a madness Indie: yeah the drum be clear of all his goods like that Indie: idk man mayb its chill like she gonna post that & not post up no harder than Rio: They might take xmas day off maybe but you know Rio: business as usual for all jan 1st Rio: well that's something Rio: maybe, but bitches like that LOVE making complaints about everything so maybe not Indie: she do have that talk to the manager vibe Indie: i done fucked up real didnt i? Rio: big time karen Rio: nah, in the eyes of everyone it's Drew that did Rio: but they won't be able to prove the drugs bit if they're gone so it's not enough to take you, a party gone wrong, bad judgment but maybe we can swing it that he was here somehow Rio: hmm Indie: but like he had mad trust for me & i brought him mad problems Rio: they're grown problems, he's big enough to fix 'em Indie: u too making ur nite go off on a real turn Indie: bet ur boy is bare vexed Rio: you know i'd rather you ring me than let it go more tits Rio: what are big sisters for Rio: but yeah, didn't even see him in the end so he ain't stopped Indie: innit Indie: tell him he can hit me up for something to take off that edge Indie: debts be paid around here Rio: um you ain't supposed to have no thing 'scuse you Rio: there's a plan here Indie: i gots places & heads to trust in Rio: nah, I'll make it up to him, don't worry 'bout that Indie: 😉😉😉 Rio: 😏 shush lil girl Indie: grown problems ur big enough to fix i kno 💋🤤🤤 Rio: so thirsty, go hydrate Rio: know you need to 😘 Indie: rude i got lipsed by bare boys last nite they were rigging dem bottle spins cos im 🔥🔥 dont b tryna put me out Rio: you need to cool off for a minute, bitch Rio: you in trouble Indie: not wit u Rio: yeah, don't push it 😉 Indie: 💔😢😢 dont do me like that on day 1 of the year 🙏🙏🙏 Rio: it started HOURS ago and I was still here with you cleaning blood out the carpet Rio: don't talk to me about day 1s when I'm clearly ride or die Indie: u kno im good for ious & i got mad love Rio: 🧡 Rio: i'm good really Rio: let's sort the actual situation Indie: u gonna charm the social for me? Rio: give it my best Indie: safe ✌✌ Rio: probably the straightest middle-aged lady Rio: so more likely your da will have to get on it Indie: 😂😂😂 Indie: what drew b good for Rio: init tho Indie: we all been knew Indie: he better werk so it works Rio: Sure it won't be too hard, like Rio: even if she ain't all that 😂 Indie: she aint gon b bangin but his exes show he aint need that to chirp on Rio: 👀 Indie: 😂😂😏😏 Indie: can u roll up wit eats im about to die Rio: bit rude to both our ma, like lmao Rio: 'course Rio: bring leftovers Indie: ur ma dont count as no ex cos she ✖ed him out Indie: & my ma got that permanent ✖ so bigger problems than my shade innit Rio: no problems when you an 👼 Rio: fucking hopefully Indie: u my 👼 bringing that energy Indie: that means u can jam Rio: is it? Rio: 😏 Rio: let Ryan know eh Indie: he kno u a 😈 too Indie: how he be livin Rio: mhmm Rio: well he gon' have to wait for now Indie: he gon have beef wit me Indie: soz boyyy Rio: nah we was already beefin' 'fore this Indie: yeah? Indie: what he do? 👀 Rio: nah, what I do more like Rio: you know I'm 😈 Indie: o shit Indie: gimme that 411 Rio: nothing exciting Rio: just be looking too bad to be giving him that much air, you know the drill Indie: hes so hyped for u Indie: its been weeks boy no u cant cuff it Indie: who u think u is Rio: can you blame him Rio: hot property, baby Indie: u did look 💣💣💣 last nite my bad Indie: theres a boy @ school tryna chat @ the rest hes my bf so i feel it fr Indie: boy please DO I LOOK LIKE Indie: not tryna hold ur damn hand Rio: is he cute tho Indie: if he werent he wouldnt be able to chat no thing Indie: 💪 fuck him up Rio: 😂 Rio: gotta 'tect the rep Indie: he kno it tho & its like tell me how 🔥🔥 i am dont b talking on urself all the time Rio: not a mood Indie: innit Indie: dry as Rio: that's boys for you Indie: & he didnt show last nite Rio: playing hard to get or just got parents who give a fuck Indie: year up x 2 so he could come thru the ends whenever Indie: but i 💋 all his mandem so itll hit back Rio: play @ his own game  alright Indie: do u think i went too hard tho? Rio: do you want him to be your mans or nah Indie: idk Rio: then it depends Rio: beyond knowing he loves himself, idk how he's vibing Rio: might be too far Indie: hes vibing like hes about me but i Rio: but you? Indie: how do i live that Indie: trust it Indie: drews meshing a new every week he says u gotta keep free on it Rio: works for him Rio: everyone's different Rio: you don't have to trust him yet Indie: mayb hes only about me til i give him something & im not tryna be a show like that Rio: that happens, not gonna sit here and lie and say it don't Rio: you're too young to be thinking on that or worrying Rio: keep him and the rest waiting Indie: yeah okay Indie: gimme a few to have puberty roll up Indie: still waiting on that Rio: it'll happen Rio: not that it's a barrel of laughs, like Rio: nothing to be hyped about Indie: i dont want it Indie: freaky shit going on Rio: unless you gonna stop eating, which unlikely Rio: you fucked, babe, we all are, soz Rio: get boobies though, perks Indie: that best not be you tryna skip on bringing me a meal bitch Indie: bout to hit the afterlife running here like Rio: 🙄 omw you rude ass hoe Rio: like you said, none of us had earlies Indie: omw fr or like when u tell ur mans u @ the club but u still tryin on fits in ur room Rio: like fr when I ever done you like that Indie: dont b starting Indie: ily Rio: 🤞 never Rio: ily more Indie: drews back if u wanna spit at him how to sort his life Rio: i will Rio: he ain't ready for this Indie: resolutions b dashing past this postcode we all avoidin that change Rio: you gotta Rio: sort you both Indie: hey swerve me im good Rio: 😏 Rio: fine i'll focus on your daddy Rio: no love for you Indie: 👼👼🤞🤞 Indie: call him that when you give it & he'll give in Rio: oh you schooling me on how to get blokes to do what I want now Rio: ok miss thing Indie: just him i 👂 what i hear & i kno what i kno Indie: hes here for all that Rio: you poor child Rio: anything grosser than parents going at it 😬 Indie: nah man its nasty & long being under this roof sometimes trust Rio: 🤢 Indie: some of his girls got me tempted to 📱 the social my own self & my ma looking like a saint Rio: that ain't right Rio: negates any buffness he got going on Indie: why lads wanna get on or under ANYTHING?! Indie: true madness Indie: 😂😂😂 Rio: friction 🤷 Indie: yeah but like theres girls out there bringing it & you're gonna hit that Rio: he probably ain't got as much choice as he fronts Rio: lots of grown women ain't about his lifestyle so that leaves him w the younger ones who is Rio: stick at it too long, you get busted, just facts Indie: when you old & so is your baggage 😂😂✌✌ Rio: I mean Rio: I ain't say nothing 😉 Indie: keep that ☮ mama Rio: least he looks p young still Rio: nothing worse than an actual creepy old man dealer Indie: do he? 👴 to me Rio: nah Rio: he only what, 31 Rio: that's no thing to me, gurl Indie: mayb im just 🍋 cos he aint tryna gimme no 💸💸💸 Indie: & he aint caring my head hurts Rio: aw bb Rio: 'round the corner Rio: I'll look after you Indie: 💖💖💖 Indie: u didnt tell me it b like this tho partying Rio: didn't think i had to be that quick with the warnings Rio: next day hurts Indie: always? Rio: 'less you prepare and do it right Rio: it can be bearable Rio: better than you feeling, no doubt Indie: how i do that? school me yeah Rio: 'course Rio: on the to-do list now Indie: we doing the next as a back to school thing so you got a few to bring me up Rio: you best be doing it at some other fucker's gaff and all Rio: giving me grey hairs 🙄 Indie: 😂😂✌✌ Indie: imma make that boy host it Indie: if he love me Rio: You're getting a chaperone regardless Indie: serious? Rio: yeah Indie: 💔💔💔 Rio: don't start like you don't know why Indie: i aint trippin you are tho if u think i want a repeat Rio: what, you too cool for me now? Indie: innit 😏😏😏 Indie: but nah just Rio: you so is Rio: you think imma embarrass you in-front of your mans Indie: he aint gon b my mans if u there Indie: whos 👀 me over u Rio: nah don't be silly Indie: im being real Indie: ur 💣💣💣🔥🔥🔥 Rio: so are you Rio: and I don't think a lad who likes you will be into me Indie: every lad b into u they all chat on u fully 😍😍😍💘💘😍 Rio: sounds like plenty are into you too Indie: 😂😂 it was for the spin Indie: cant pussy out Rio: 😏 mhmm Rio: well I promise you I won't be joining in, like Rio: now come let me in if you got strength to get the door Indie: 💪💪 babyyy Indie: [lets her in cos fuck know what drew is doing, flexing in the mirror probably] Rio: [lol watch him rush out when he realize] Indie: [hears her voice & runs out pretending to be casual] Rio: [oh boy, do not deserve her sorting your life, temporarily, but it's for Indie so] Indie: [bless her she's dying rn & just wants to be snuggled cos literal child] Rio: [give them a sec 'scuse you sir] Indie: [I hate everything about this, Carly didn't die for this] Rio: [just making leftovers] Indie: [drew chatting to her like she's here to hang with him & we all know] Rio: [don't you touch caleb's food bitch] Indie: [is nothing sacred you slag] Indie: [indie just fully lying stretched out on the counter like its a bed like let me die] Rio: [getting a bag of peas or some shit in a tea towel and putting it on her head] Indie: [such a good mum but that don't mean you can step ma her drew] Rio: [not her fault she can converse more like a grown-up than you Indie: [we should send Indie running off to the bathroom no offense Caleb but I'm evil & wanna leave them alone for a sec for the mood] Rio: [shoulda gone to hold her hair but now you can level with him and he can pretend he's a responsible adult lmao] Indie: [& Ryan can be highkey & he can pretend he cares] Rio: [ah the joys]

[cxgan]

Kinktober 2018 Day 2: Begging & Watersports

SHIP: Cegan [Carl Grimes/Negan]

SUMMARY: FILTH. PURE UNADULTERATED FILTH. Companion to my fic Nicotine [modern!au, Carl and Negan in the kink community if you haven’t read it]. Set two years into their relationship. Carl is nasty and likes nasty things done to him and Negan is always happy to oblige.

WARNINGS: watersports (if you don’t know what that is please urban dictionary it and then proceed with caution), age gap (both over 18 tho)

W/C: 1743

A/N: @God I’m so sorry I have strayed so far from your light. loljk I’m not. I originally wasn’t going to put this in the cegan tag because I don’t want y’all to think I’m gross but then I decided ah fuck it. So just deal with my filth and if you don’t like it don’t read it.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

"Beg for it," Negan's voice echoed off the walls of the bathroom similar to the way it bounced between the spaces of Carl's ribs and filled up his lungs, suffocating him.

The Dominant had always had the ability to make Carl blush - it was something he was really quite proud of much to the boy's dismay... But it had been awhile since he had been able to reduce him to this much of a humiliated mess and the submissive could just tell that the older male was eating it right up. His ever present smug as hell grin was enough evidence of that. He supposed the older male had the right to be a little cocky in that moment - two years together had made it so Carl was very difficult to embarrass after hearing almost every piece of dirty talk Negan had in the book. He still flushed bright red at times and stammered when he didn't know what to say back, but this time... this time he truly was embarrassed instead of just putting on a cute show. Because this was different. This was dirty. And he wanted it.

And god damn it Negan was going to make him beg for it.

"Daddy, please, please don't make me say it," he grit out in a whine, ripping his gaze away from the other man when he couldn't handle looking into that arrogant expression anymore. He was too ashamed at the entire situation. "I already said I wanted to do it," he damn near whispered out. "Why do I have to beg?" The fact that he was naked, on his knees in the shower, bright red and achingly hard for what was to come was horrible enough.

"'Cause maybe I like hearin' that pretty little voice say all the nasty, filthy shit that I know goes on in that noggin'a yours." To emphasize his point, he leaned down and literally knocked on the top of Carl's head which made the boy shoot a daring glare up at him. "Oh boy, wouldn't look at me like that if I were you. Not in your position. I'll fuckin' make ya drink it if ya piss me off enough. Heh. Get it. Piss me off?" Carl would have shot him another glare for the stupid pun but was a little more scared of the ramifications so he kept his expressions to himself, opting to count the lines in the stone beneath his knees as a more solid distraction. "Now do what I fuckin' said."

"Please," Carl started, voice raw and wavering just a little bit. For a moment he almost considered pleading with the man again to not say it but he knew he had to if he was going to get what he wanted. He stared at the thick leather boots before him and gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip. "Give me..." he continued, nails digging into his flesh where his hands rested on his thighs. "Your... p-piss..." the last word was stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper as he clenched his eyes shut. This was so humiliating. Wrong on so many levels. So why was his dick harder than ever where it rested flush up against his belly? He had been humiliated a lot over the last few years in the older male's company, but this... this was on a whole new level.

"Sorry, what? Couldn't quite hear ya there, sugar. You're gonna hafta speak up. And fuckin' look at me when you're talkin' - you know damn well I hate that shit."

Carl whined in frustration - a low, pathetic sound that forced it's way up his throat without warning. He steadied his breathing and tried to focus his vocal cords into properly working this time. He cleared his throat and finally opened his eyes to look up at his Dominant, trying his best not to glare at the smirk he was met with. "Please piss on me, Daddy," he said softly. It was louder this time, a little more sure of himself but no less embarrassed by what he wanted.

If it was possible for Negan's grin to grow it definitely did. Carl tried to hold back his whimper at the sound of the older man undoing his belt and jeans. "See, was that so hard, baby doll? All ya had to do was admit how much of a dirty fuckin slut you are and Daddy'll give ya what ya need." He tugged his half hard cock out of his underwear and the boy instinctively licked his lips, wiggling his ass in anticipation. Negan chuckled, stroking himself a few times just to tease the kid. "Gonna be a lot. I've been savin' it for ya." And if it was possible for Carl to turn a darker shade of red, he did.

"Here it comes," Negan grunted, positioning himself over the boy. The hot, yellowed stream of piss fell from the man's cock head like a god damn waterfall, and Carl whimpered when it struck his chest. It streamed down his torso, coating him in the wet warmth and his hand twitched against his thigh. Negan seemed to notice, though, and grunted out a quick, "Go on and touch it, boy." And almost immediately he wrapped said hand around his aching (and now dripping) cock.

Negan had been right, there was... a lot. So much that Carl was surprised it was still coming (not that he was complaining). It was so wrong. So dirty and horrible on so many levels but that just turned Carl on more. He pumped himself eagerly as the stream continued to splash against his chest and trickle downward, covering his hand and cock in the process before dripping off of him and sliding down the drain.

The humiliation of it all was overwhelming. He had never felt more filthy in his entire life than he did in that moment, jerking off like a fucking teenager while his Dominant relieved himself all over him. "Yeah, you love this shit, don'tcha, kid? Fuckin' nasty. My dirty little slut, playin' with his teeny cock while Daddy pisses all over him." Carl moaned at his words, and without much thought or warning his head fell forward and the stream was directed toward the top of his head, soaking into his hair and dripping down his face when he finally looked back up. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" Negan exclaimed, clearly shocked that the boy had gone so far. Carl was a bit shocked he did it himself but as the liquid hit him in the face (his eyes now closed, of course) and the scent and feeling took over him he almost came and had to rip his hand away from his dick to stop it. He bucked his hips up and whined at the loss of contact. "You really are a fuckin' dirty whore, god damn, baby. You're fuckin' disgusting - hard as hell and moaning like a little bitch cause I'm pissin' on your face - fuck." The stream faltered for a second and Negan grunted, causing the boy to open his eyes and look up at him curiously. "I ain't done. Open your mouth."

Carl gave him a sharp look followed by one of hesitancy. Yeah, he was gross, but he didn't know if he was that gross. Negan chuckled. "You ain't gotta swallow it - not yet at least - but c'mon, you just made me piss on your face. Ya can't tell me you don't wanna taste it." Maybe it was curiosity that had him slowly opening his mouth, maybe it was the fact he just trusted the man above him with everything he was. Regardless of what compelled him to do it, he closed off his throat and braced himself for what was to come.

The stream that started up was slower than before, and the moment his mouth was filled up he spat it out rather harshly, coughing and gagging. He didn't know if it was the taste or the action that he thought was more vile but whatever the case he spit it out as soon as he could. Negan, the useless prick, laughed above him. "Aw, c'mon, sugar, it ain’t that bad." Carl glared at him and wiped his mouth off. "You'll get used to it." He was met with a sultry wink that had his stomach flip flopping at the prospect.

The older man finished himself off on Carl's chest and the boy resumed his furious pumping of his own cock. Exhaling in relief, Negan tucked himself back in his jeans and Carl was a bit disappointed he didn't have his dick to look at anymore. "Can I...?" Carl managed to get out, slumping to the side and pressing his head into the stone wall of the shower. He was literally dripping with urine, that fact both making him a little nauseous and spurring him on even more.

Negan ignored him and walked in place a few times, his boots squelching. "Fuck, this is disgusting." He bent over and with practiced hands undid his boots in under a minute, stepping out of them and out of the shower itself to protect his socked feet. "Cum on those," he gestured toward the boots he left next to the boy. "And then clean the fuck out of them. First with your mouth, then with whatever. I don't give a fuck. If you do a good enough job there might be a reward. And then take a fuckin' shower." Carl was nodding along like a damn robot, less focused on what he was instructed to do and more on the fact he had been given permission to cum. On Negan's boots, nonetheless. And then lick them clean. Was he in heaven? Probably.

"Be a good boy, and then come find me when you're done. Alright?"

He was a bit sad the man wasn't staying for the show but at this point he wanted him to leave so he could get on with it. "Yes, Daddy," he grit out, grip tightening around his cock.

The shower door slowly closed but it opened one last time last minute. "And Carl?" The boy looked up, eyes glossy and biting his bottom lip. "I always knew you were secretly a piss slut." And with that he shut the door, leaving the boy to almost immediately start cumming and yelping when he almost missed his target.

TAGGING: NO ONE OMFG I am not subjecting my readership to this filth if they do not want to read it. k thx.

[ani-not]

Vampire Knight, or AKA how to piss off half or most of your fanbase

Warning: Gore, LOTS OF Incest, weird subtext, Suicide mentions, Stupidity, Lots of terrible anime cliches, 

Rating: 2 /10

Episodes: 26 Episodes (2 seasons)

Dub or Sub: Does it really matter tho Vic Mignona as Zero really does make it at least somewhat bearable even if he’s a piece of shit.

Opening and Ending Themes: S1 Opening: 2/10. Bland.  S1 Ending: 6/10. The S1 ending definitely captures the tone of what the series is going for. S2 Opening: 4/10. Better than the S1 opening, closer to the aesthetic but still kinda eh. S2 Ending: 5/10. It’s alright. It fits into the context but it’s reaching. 

Pacing; SLOOOOOOOOOW. slow as fuck like I literally die because it’s so slow help me I can’t believe there’s 26 episodes of this I feel like I could watch like 100 episodes of Inuyasha in the spans of 1 episode of VK. 

Concept: Yuki goes to a school that’s got humans and vampires, which doesn’t make any sense because the thing about vampires is that they’re the same age forever why the fuck would they need to go to school america explain!! but she’s one of the only people who knows there’s vampires because she’s “the headmaster’s daughter” and has gotta protect the stupid humans and also a love triangle that ends stupidly. This is your basic bitch of vampire teen romance that was popular at the exact time teen vampires were popular and then ended extremely grossly. 

-----Spoilers Below You’ve been warned---------

First of all. 

Let’s introduce our main 3 characters. 

Yuki Cross Kuran: An amnesiac idiot. Classic dopey Helpless Damsel. She was trained how to fight against vampires and she does all these cool jumps and stuff but every single time she’s in trouble, she needs to get rescued. She looks EXACTLY like the Vampire Class President Kaname, but no one brings it up ever. I don’t hate her, but she does get annoying at points. Apparently, when she 5 years old, she was wandering around alone with no memories, was almost attacked by a vampire and then was rescued by TEENAGE Kaname, and she’s looked up to and liked him ever since. She does have that ‘I believe there can be good in anyone’ charisma that I’ve liked in other characters, but it’s done very poorly here. She wants to bond and become closer to Zero and knows that his family was murdered, but doesn’t understand that boundaries are a thing and need to be respected especially with someone who was traumatized like Zero. She’s actually a pure blood vampire and Kaname’s younger BLOOD RELATED sister who ‘was born to be Kaname’s wife.’ Her mother died in the process of sealing yuki’s powers and memories away to make her human for awhile. 

Zero Kiryu: THE ONLY RESPECTABLE CHARACTER. IN THIS HOUSE WE ONLY STAND WITH ZERO KIRYU, EVERYONE ELSE IN THE SHOW OR SERIES CAN FUCKING PERISH. HIS VAMPIRE SLAYING FAMILY WAS MURDERED BY A VAMPIRE. HATES VAMPIRES. WANTS THEM DEAD. VALID. VALID BOY. HE WAS TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE BY A PUREBLOOD VAMPIRE AND HE HAS TO DRINK BLOOD AND HE HATES IT. HAS A LOT OF MENTAL ILLNESS AND PTSD AND ANGER AND FEAR BECAUSE HIS FAMILY WAS MURDERED. BY A VAMPIRE. AND HE WILL END UP BECOMING A MINDLESS VAMPIRE. AND NOW HE’S FORCED TO PROTECT VAMPIRES. LITERALLY TRIES TO KILL HIMSELF OR WANTS TO DIE BEFORE THAT HAPPENS. HE HAS A VALID SOFT SPOT FOR YUKI BECAUSE THEY GREW UP TOGETHER AND SHE WAS HIS FIRST AND ONLY TRUE FRIEND AFTER HIS FAMILY WAS MURDERED. BY VAMPIRES. WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY IS THAT THE HEADMASTER IS A FUCKING DICK. DOESN’T DESERVE TO BE IN THIS SHITTY ANIME. 

Kaname Kuran: A gross incestuous CREEP. HE NASTY. MANIPULATIVE CREEP. THIS IS BASICALLY ME EVERYTIME HE’S ONSCREEN.  HE’S A PUREBLOODED VAMPIRE????WHICH MEANS HE’S TOP OF THE CHARTs?? AND OP I GUESS??/ A MJAOR DOUCHEBAG- ALSO KNOWS THAT ZERO’S FAMILY WAS SLAUGHTERED BY A PUREBLOOD VAMPIRE AND KNOWS ZERO WILL BECOME A VAMPIRE AND STILL TAUNTS HIM ABOUT HOW HE’S BECOMING A BLOODTHIRSTY BEAST AND EVEN ALLOWS THE VAMPIRE THAT KILLED ZERO’S FAMILY TO COME WRECK HAVOC AT THE ACADEMY WHEN HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE KEEPING PEACE. CREEPS ON YUKI LITERALLY ALL THE TIME SINCE SHE WAS A KID. ALL THE OTHER VAMPS WOULD LITERALLY JUMP HIS BONES IF HE ASKED BUT DECIDES TO CREEP ON HIS SISTER INSTEAD. LITERALLY HAS BEEN THE ONE KEEPING HER IN THE DARK ABOUT HER PAST THE WHOLE TIME, 

The concept in greater detail: 

The Headmaster, Yuki’s adopted father, Kaen Cross, wants Vampires and Humans to get along. 

Apparently, in this world, Humans and Vampires are separate races, and vampires can make vampire babies, but they also can still turn humans into vampires, and the Vampire babies can still grow and mature??? And be teenagers, except Kaname but we’ll get to him in a minute. Anyway, so since his school has both humans and vampires, he enlists his own children, Yuki, and Zero, his other adopted child, WHO’S FAMILY WAS MURDERED BY VAMPIRES, to keep the humans separate from the vampires, because the humans are stupid and don’t know that the night class(Vampire Class) are in fact, vampires. And on top of that, both Zero and Yuki have to attend Day classes, and then patrol the nights to protect the humans, so they literally get no sleep whatsoever and wow, Child labor and Negligence. Let these kids sleep goddamn

Season 1 in a nutshell:

Okay, Season 1 basically sets up the story and characters and background in a really slow weird pace, like usually in the first episode of an anime you’d set up with short descriptions of the main characters and then later on delve into their aspects and motivations, they barely do that here and also you get the context of the plot in the first couple of episodes, this takes like half the season to fully unleash all the characters and background which makes it easily forgettable, like I just watched it and I’m still like- why is this a thing- oh- oh okay- uh huh- weird? not gonna explain until 10 episodes later? okay. 

Also I shit you not, once they finally get into Zero’s background and backstory more, the vampire that killed Zero’s family, turned him into a vampire and kidnapped his twin brother which I guess is now a thing??????? is back with his twin brother, who ‘always secretly hated’ Zero and always wanted him and their family dead’ and not only does the Headmaster get weird senses about her infiltrating the school as a student, but FUCKING Kaname knows RIGHT OFF THE BAT, WHO THE FUCK SHE IS, WHAT THE FUCK SHE DID, AND LETS HER FUCK AROUND WITH ZERO UNTIL KANAME KILLS HER, STEALS HER POWERS AND THEN PINS HER MURDER ON ZERO. THUS LEAVING ZERO AS A SCAPEGOAT FOR THE WEIRD TWILIGHT? VAMPIRE? ASSOCIATION? TO GET PISSED AT AND TRY TO KILL BECAUSE SHE WAS A ‘PURE VAMPIRE’  AND EVEN YUKI’S LIKE- ‘SAY HE DIDN’T DO IT KANAME’ AND KANAME GIVES HER THIS LOOK THAT’S LIKE ‘I KNOW HE DIDN’T CAUSE I DID BUT I’M NOT GONNA SAY IT BC I’M STILL CREEPING ON YOU’ 

AND ZERO’S THIS CLOSE TO LITERALLY LOSING HIS MIND AND KANAME REALIZING THAT ZERO’S THE ONE THAT’S BEEN PROTECTING ‘HIS PRECIOUS YUKI’ THIS WHOLE TIME, DECIDES TO FORCE HIM TO DRINK HIS OWN BLOOD TO KEEP HIM FROM BECOMING A COMPLETE MONSTER. 

Also let’s talk about Zero’s convenient, cliche and weird twin brother Ichiru.

Okay, for Ichiru, he’s kind of...all over the place. But I’ll try to condense it down. 

Remember how I said Vic Mignona being Zero’s voice actor helped make this show bearable? Well, they used Vic AGAIN for Ichiru, because??? he’s??/ his twin??? i guess??? Listen, Not every set of identical twins are going to have the same voice too??? and it’s really??? kind of like- kills what Vic has going for Zero. Take for instance, Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin from Ouran High School Host Club

There’s enough difference to tell them apart as people but same enough that they sound related instead of sounding like weird clones. 

Now listen to this clip from VK dubbed

It sounds like Zero is just talking to himself in the mirror. He does do Ichiru’s voice a little lighter and Zero’s heavier, but there’s barely any distinction and it’s just ugh. Using him as both Zero and Ichiru is just lazy.

So, Ichiru hated Zero and their family because he was born weak and easily to fall to illness within a family of vampire killers so he felt that they hated him because of it, and that wasn’t the case at all, and was the one to lead the pureblood vampire to his home to slaughter his family, then left with her to become stronger by being her servant and drinking her blood. But she won’t drink his bc he’s too obedient and likes Zero more because Zero fights her will with everything he has. And Ichiru is a jealous lil bitch because I guess Zero gets all the attention even though he really doesn’t/ doesn’t want it and thinks it’s Zero’s fault that his life is this way. 

Season 2 in a nutshell:

Things are FINALLY getting revealed. So, the reason Yuki was brought to the headmaster was that her parents (WHO WERE ALSO SIBLINGS WHO DECIDED TO GET MARRIED AND HAVE KIDS BC PUREBLOODS GR O SS) WERE KILLED BY THEIR EVIL OLDER BROTHER WHO WAS COMING FOR YUKI AND SO KANAME BEING HER ELDER BROTHER STOPPED HIM, AND BROUGHT YUKI TO THE HEADMASTER SO THAT SHE COULD LIVE NORMALLY AS A HUMAN UNTIL SHE WAS FRESHLY COOKED ENOUGH TO BECOME HIS GROSS BRIDE/LOVER/WIFE AND LIVE AS A PUREBLOOD VAMP AGAIN, AND YUKI IS TOTALLY INTO IT???? AND SHE SAYS SHIT LIKE “IT’S SO FUNNY THAT I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH MY BROTHER THIS WHOLE TIME.’ AND KANAME’S LIKE ‘WHY IS IT FUNNY? WE’RE PUREBLOOD ARISTOCRATS AND IT’S NOT LIKE WE’RE HUMANS LOLOL’ LIKE NO- N O THAT STILL DOESN’T MAKE IT OKAY. 

Also the headmaster was vampire hunter previously and killed a ton of them before was like ‘lol this ain’t the life for me anymore’ which. I can get. I really can. But also, can you just not. “I stopped being a vampire hunter bc I thought that’d be like rejected Yuki and Zero” 

Also now that Yuki is revealed and unsealed as a pure blood vampire all the other vampires are worshiping her like they do Kaname and it’s weird as hell.

Kaname is also manipulating her again, saying that when she wants to protect something she cares about it hurts him. 

also i guess kaname also has been using zero the entire time to make him the strongest vampire hunter in the world and is going to send him to kill the vampire that killed kaname & yuki’s parents and who is also now after Yuki because he wants to eat her and sap her power i guess.

i hate this show so much

but I still love ze-

AND ZERO JUST GOT FUCKING SHOT IN THE HEART BY HIS GODDAMN TWIN GOD FUCKING DAMMIT

APPARENTLY ICHIRU WAS SO WEAK WAS BC ZERO TOOK SOME OF HIS BROTHER’S POWER WHEN THEY WERE IN THEIR MUM’S WOMB LIKE THAT’S??? NOT HIS FAULT??? W H Y ARE YOU DOING THIS??? AND ZERO LEARNING THIS- JUST WANTS HIS BROTHER TO BE HAPPY- 

BUT LIKE THAT STILL ENDED WITH HIS BROTHER KILLING HIS FAMILY. 

AND THEN HIS BROTHER WITH HIS FINAL WISH AS HE LAY DYING IN ZERO’S ARMS, FROM TRYING TO KILL THE BIG BAD GUY AND GETTING HIS ASS WHOOPED TELLS HIM TO DRINK HIS BLOOD SO HE CAN GET HIS FULL VAMP HUNTER POWERS AND CONTINUE TO LIVE

And Zero does it. Because he wants to protect the only friend he’s had. God, Zero is so fucking valid. 

Headmaster actually throwing his lazy ass into the fight to protect Yuki and the academy is the arc reversal of the century. 

also Yuki being able to wield her Vampire hunter weapon despite being a vamp with just her willpower makes no goddamn sense. Power of friendship my ass.

ALSO THE BAD GUY IS SUCH A CREEP. LIKE CREEPS RUN IN THE FAMILY. KANAME AND THE CREEPY ASS UNCLE RITO

ZERO!!!!!

.”TIME FOR CURTAINS TO DRAW ON OUR VAMPIRE NIGHT” 

Roll Credits.

So, all in all, the show ends with Kaname fighting creepy uncle until Zero is the one to kill him, and then as another slap in the face, Yuki leaves the academy with her disgusting love interest grooming brother after drinking Zero’s blood one last time to prove she is actually a vampire. Proving that the only ‘friend’ that he genuinely cared about all this time is gone, and that the next time they meet, he will be forced to kill her as his role as a Vampire hunter. And it ends with Yuki looking forward to that day??????

I. hate. this series. 

I HATE IT SO MUCH. 

It has interesting ideas, and it got popular the time vampires were megahuge, but it’s just utterly disgusting and disappointing. I only liked ONE character. ONE. And he’s the one who gets fucked over the most. 

It’s cliche. And Gross. And just. I braced myself for some bad anime but I had no goddamn idea how bad it actually is. 

If you like it, then you do you my dude. I just can’t. This series? scarred me for life? I would rather eat an old moldy sock than sit and watch this again. 

[miraimisu]

These Stones We Skip | Cha̵̭̦̓͜pter̷̳͎̮͍̆ 1

◄ previous part  ♣  next part ►

[Read at FF.net]

[Read at AO3.]

Summary: Uraraka, as a newcomer to the most powerful guild in this forsaken village, had not only one, two; but three responsibilities: grow stronger until she was able to pin the world down, untangle the mystery that her past was and survive under the eyes of a crowd that watched over her as night chased the sun’s tail, the charade going on and on until the thread… suddenly snaps.

Rating: T because of obvious reasons such as Bakugou and swearing children. And it’s an AU. Medieval AU.

Word count: it’s fucking long get over it ALREADYYYY

Author’s note: : I FEEL YOUR HEAAAAAAARTBEEEAAAT TO THE BEAT OF THE DRUMZ (8) Hi, y'all /kicked So sorry if this took so much but it's so damn hard to continue this story at a comfy pace with so much lore and stuff building up and having to construct some kacchako as well? I AM STRUGGLING? And a friend of mine told me this was novel-length like lmao she is right tho. I gotta reconsider my life choices. Fo now thanks to all kind people who leave reviews and stuff in this clusterfuck? I DON'T DESERVE IT? But omg thanks

Warnings: it’s long, it’s messy, OLD SCHOOL MIRAI :V It has them feels tho. Kinda. Tons of broshipping. And… some kacchako, finally?? maybe not idk

I’LL BE ALSO EDITING MINOR PLOTHOLES IF THERE ARE ANY HAHA SORRY LOVE YOU ALL BYE :D

“Mama?” the little chubby child tugged at the woman’s red jersey, pointing then across the little river. “Who are those people?”

The pink woman followed the child’s finger to the land on the other side, and squatted to secure an arm around the girl’s petite figure. “Those people are dangerous, honey.” the girl blinked at the older woman, doubt dancing in her big pristine pools. “Don’t you ever go near them, or they will do nasty things to your little cute body.”

The pink woman tickled her tummy for emphasis, which made the girl squirm in her hold. The laughter didn’t last for long. “But mama, I don’t understand! Why are they dangerous? They don’t look so menacing.”

She shook her head at the child and pointed at them. There were some adults working as guards across the river, meters away from the pair. “They don’t like us, and they want to invade our land, your land. They wish to destroy our home because they are greedy.”

“Gweedy?” a finger scratched her cheek, and the woman nodded. The little girl gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “They want to kill us? They want to kill this village?”

The elderly woman got up again, hands ruffling her hair with tenderness. “I don’t know, but just be careful. They are a dangerous species– they are humans, thirsty for blood and lands.”

“Humans?” the woman nodded above, and the brunette looked up. Sunshine covered the mother’s face, but the little girl knew those soft factions nonetheless. “But Harold and I… see?” she rose her hands, grinning toothily. “We have the same skin!”

The woman sighed. “I know, darling.”

“Then, why can’t we all be friends, mama?”

Mother looked far ahead, frown crowning her kind eyes as her hands grew frantic around her child’s head. “It’s more complicated than being friends or not, Nameless.” her finger shot to point at a boy working on the river. His hair was golden, reflecting the sunshine of a clear day, and it made the child’s eyes gleam in delight. “See that boy there? He is a beast, an assassin.”

“But Hawold and I–“

The woman’s hand slapped the child’s head in frustration, aware of the implications of such obvious fact as the skin color, the white of their eyes and the very same absence of horns. “I know, you are similar. But you will never be one of them, honey. You are not a monster like they are.”

The mother gave her hair a last ruffle before smiling softly at the girl under her, who was looking at the boy in wonder. “Why would he want to kill me?”

The mother sighed and started to walk away, throwing a glance behind her to check that the little girl was still in place. “Same skin color doesn’t determine one’s intentions, honey. Just stay there until your friends come here.”

Mother left the second afterwards, the little girl sitting on the muddy grass as the contemplated the thought. A whirlwind of newfound doubt, curiosity and wonder swam freely around her eyes, corseting her heart into a tight grip of anticipation and excitement. Her heart beat out of cadence, skyrocketing high above and exploding into a mixture of deep expectations, wondering how that boy’s voice would sound like, or how his skin would feel. Would his body be as warm as hers, or would his eyes float against hers like Harold’s did?

The girl got up, stumbled a little and brushed some dirt off her yellow dress. Gee boosted her energy and encouraged her to take a leap of faith and start running– running towards the land filled with warm golden night from the sun, bathed in blues and whites with silver creaking against her eyes like a jewel, and the boy’s pale skin coming to view the more she ran to him. Sounds of steel clanking against wood and iron twinkled around her, symphonies of sweat and grunts compassing the hush.

Her dainty feet reached the river, and the waters seemed darker than what they had looked like a minute ago. She tiptoed, human boy not noticing her presence as she smiled at him. There were some guards around that only acknowledged her presence inwardly and continued their game of minding their own business.

“Hi, excuse me?” the boy didn’t even flinch at her calling, focused on molding the iron. He couldn’t be much older than her, maybe 11 years old or so, but his hands were bruised as if he had been working for a century, marred in blisters and dry blood. “Hello, blonde boy!”

The boy grumpily turned to look across the border, expecting to find a brainless pink alien he would have to behead and seeing a waving stupid girl in its stead. “Oi, what is your problem, cheeks? I am busy!”

“Hello, blonde boy!” she waved even more excitedly, water crashing below her feet as her feet grew closer to the edge. He only huffed grumpily and went on working. “Excuse me! There is something I need to ask you!”

“What in the world is your problem?” his hands were constricted in fists, eyes shadowed by his untamed mane of golden streaks. He was somewhat pretty to her. “I am busy!”

“Well–!” she almost tripped and fell over, squealing for a second before recomposing herself while messing with her head, anxiety for this boy’s mood crippling under her skin. “There is something I need to ask you!”

“I don’t care about your stupid problems! Besides, you can’t cross and I can’t hear your girly voice from over here.” his voice was also pitched, but gave hints of growth and it would undoubtedly become rich and deep in the future. “Who in the world are you anyway?”

Nameless had a quick solution for that. The girl touched her shoulder and leaped over the edge, floating for a pair of meters before touching ground. Guards around her started to point their spears at her, startled by the careless display. The blonde boy was scared shitless, having scrambled off his stool and standing a good pair of meters away from the floating alien. The brunette started to flail her arms around, panicking as her mother’s words ringed again in her mind.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause such ruckus!” she took a tentative step towards the boy, only to have him recoiling. “I just didn’t think I would have made it across in a single jump, and skipping rocks would have been too slippery and risky–“

Golden boy pointed at her, words struggling to get out of his idle vocal chords. “You breaking your neck while crossing would have been much better than this witchcraft you have going on!”

The guards only pointed at her with more intensity, armors clanking and drawing the attention of other humans who looked at the scene with concern. “No, please! I don’t mean harm to this village! I just desired to ask this boy a question!”

“And why did you have to be so adamant about it, crazy girl?” the boy grit his teeth at her, fists clenched and his body rigid, tense, ready in case that witch decided to pick up a fight. “You are just another alien– but you guys are mutating fast so we can’t tell you apart and–“

“I am so sorry, I don’t mean to be an intruder here!” her hands clasped the hem of her little yellow dress, shining like sunflowers in pure bloom. “Please, allow me a second of this boy’s time, I’ll run away like the wind after that!”

People lost interest over seeing her so docile and carried on with their daily duties. Meanwhile, the boy snarled at her, shifting to grab his little shaping hammer in case she decided to get feisty and start throwing punches at him. “Be quick or I’ll smash your useless species to smithereens.”

His eyes flickered in fire against hers, a rush of trepidation washing over her as hell, blood and dangerous lights started shining through his bleeding eyes, pale skin contrasting with the dark intentions his impure heart held. Her question suddenly seemed useless seeing a human like this, so bare and bone think, but she still blurted it out.

“Are you–“ her eyes pounded against his very own bonfires, beaming with intention and silly curiosity. “Are you a monster, golden boy? Would you kill me if I were to hug you, ride you like I ride horsey Harold, or if we had fun bathing in the river?”

His brows wrinkled in disgust as such blunt, stupid question, but he was taken aback by how much honesty and sheer wonder she had poured in a short amount of time. To her credit, she had shoved a ton of bullshit in very little time. “Why in the world would I– no, why would I not kill an alien like you, cheeks? Get outta my sight before I shred you to pieces!”

“But–“

“You said you wouldn’t put a fight after this, we have pardoned you enough minutes.” he gripped the handle of his hammer harder this time, an alarming amount of teeth showing. Regardless, he didn’t step to behead her or even made a move to harm her, instead decided to start waving her off the land. “Do your sparkly stuff and leap over, I don’t care. Just leave this place.”

Nameless stared at the boy, heartbroken as he only stared back with a stern glare that warned her to leave before somebody saw her and decided to make the dirty job of torturing her in a dark chamber– somewhere even he knew she didn’t belong to. In a way, he was making her a favor. The doe-eyed girl nodded and turned around, activating her ability and jumping across, a fog of sadness clouding over her heart as the boy only stared in wonder, seeing her fly away so gloomy when she had come to him as a bright, beautiful flower. He decided to hammer those thoughts away, and the girl was soon forgotten.

When Uraraka came to, the smell of burning wood greeted her sleepy senses, heart swarming near her fingertips as the bonfire crippled upon the lodges of stacked wood, flickering and waving under the mercy of the night breezes. The little sorcerer fluttered her eyelids open as the flames greeted her unfocused eyes. Blurs of oranges, yellows and greens melted together and then sharpened to give shape to the forest, the bonfires and a very sleepy Kaminari struggling to keep his eyes awake.

The girl shifted underneath the spare blankets and, when she didn’t feel Asui’s body sleeping next to hers, an unsettling feeling came to open her eyes and slap her dazed mind awake. However, when she heard the rustle of leaves and clanking somewhere near her, those thoughts of alarm slowed her frantic sowing of irrationalities and she dared look up to see a little cauldron heating up something nasty, which prompted Uraraka to sit up.

“Good evening, Uraraka.” Asui peeked from behind the big pot to smile at her with kindness. “I see you have woken up. You sure have light sleep.”

The brunette rubbed her big gooey eyes to open, but they were tired and half lidded regardless her restless heart. “You can say that again.”

The sorcerer removed the blanket from her form and straightened her back, eliciting a pleased little moan from her sore throat. Uraraka had never really slept on the ground before– well, excepting that time she woke up mindless and brainless under a curtain of rain with a wound on her ribs, but it was a completely different kind of ground with some squishiness to it, wet and muddy. This ground was hard, dry, had stones sticking up from the sandy surface and there was always this irrational fear of ants tangling on her hair. Yes, that was petty, but she would have to get used to such hard conditions.

The girl glanced around swiftly, and found out that most people were asleep around the clearing. Iida and Tokoyami were asleep against a trunk between its big roots, swords resting right beside them. Kaminari was all alone though, making Uraraka kind of worry about where Bakugou could have scrambled off to.

“Bakugou is off for some herbs.” she continued stirring the mixture as if nothing, but the sorcerer still almost snapped her head to look at Asui. That girl was perceptive. “No need to worry so much. Don’t cry me a river.”

“Huh?” a weak grimace made her nose wrinkle in distaste, but she couldn’t deny that it was offsetting to see him off this late in the night. “I am not worried. I am just concerned. He is our leader and he’s gone so late in the night. What a freaking weirdo.”

Uraraka huffed in exasperation, eyes stealing a glance at the vacant place beside Kaminari. She didn’t let her mind wander any further and got up with weak limbs, hands dangling by her side– there was no way that stupid narcissistic sociopath would even burden her sleep with his absence, with the possibility of him being in danger.

Why the fuck would he even be in danger? He was perfectly able, be it in the dead of the night or in the middle of a maze. Her teeth grinded against each other, jaw clenched– because this petty tiny concern was useless, unneeded, unrequited, he would never hold her in any higher regard as she would possibly do– yet, a part of her seemed to hold some care for the boy. And it drove her off a damn cliff usually, because it was a tiring game of chasing in circles, never stopping.

Uraraka sighed tiredly, crumbles of sleep issuing from her throat. Despite the obvious fact that Bakugou would never get along with her, she found herself caring for his despicable self regardless– he was her leader, another peer that, she had been advised to stay far from. Yet, she couldn’t find the heart to give up on him to such extent. He had defended her back there at the village, had kind of had faith in her against Shinsou…

There was some hope for him…

Perhaps.

“You like sleeping, I see. I don’t like being woken up, either.” the herbalist made an attempt to change topics, which Uraraka was thankful for. She got up from the makeshift bed and walked to the pharmacist. “While the others sleep, I take time during nights to prepare the potions for the next day, while somebody stronger keeps guard.”

Uraraka eyed the girl tenderly, a little soft smile sketching itself on her face. She was not as familiar as she was with other people like Jack or Mina, but she was attracted to her regardless. “I don’t think you are that weak. You sure would put up a great fight, Asui.”

The water sorcerer looked at Uraraka, not impressed by the dash of fresh warm air the other carried with her, but still a little bit touched by her kindness. “It’s not like I undermine myself, but it’s just for safety measures. Don’t want an ambush coming to kick our healer’s ass– Bakugou’s words.”

Uraraka looked at the pot afterwards, glaring at the nasty looking brewage. “And what is this you are preparing?”

The colors inside the pot blended, bubbled and brewed in an aromatic mist that Uraraka couldn’t really identify, but it smelled like something akin to mind and chocolate mixed together. She tiptoed forward and smelled a little bit of the brewage. Again, it was minty, hot, and had that sweet undertone to it.

“It’s a dipping poison.” Asui stirred a bit faster this time, changing directions. The other girl looked at the water sorcerer and nodded with interest. Asui being there with her group would be a huge advantage, as Uraraka could learn lots from her and pharmacy was always a handy science to nurture from.

“Dipping?” nod, nod, and Uraraka only looked at the colorful mixture in even deeper wonder. A part of her wanted to put her finger in– but it looked scorching hot and her skin was easy to scar and blister. “Is this some kind of poison to use in food?”

The green-haired girl shook her head, not looking at Uraraka and instead rummaging through her bag. Her hands came out empty, so she signaled the other sorcerer to fetch her some spare ones in a flask on the ground. The frog girl couldn’t reach down for the items below the cauldron as she was quite small and she had to stand on an actual big stone to reach the top of the pot, so Uraraka would have to serve as a temporal assistant. When she had the herbs, Asui poured them contently into the mixture, and stirred slowly.

“You dip weapons here, and give temporary poisonous properties to them.” Uraraka nodded again, eyes glinting in curiosity and surprise. It was a pretty handy technique for making weapons be even more lethal than they already were, and it seemed like a very intelligent way of rendering any single threatening object as a needle useful and mortal. “Bakugou wanted me to give his sword a coat of poison in case we have a harsh encounter tomorrow.”

The girl frowned at the prospect. “I see.” she peeked over the edge of the iron container and gawked at how it was turning darker and darker the more Asui stirred. “You must know very well what you are doing when it comes it these things, yes?”

Asui removed the wooden spoon from the cauldron – it had big stains and it was broken in a few places, marred in scars of hurried preparations – and jumped off the stone. “It is a risky process. But it’s not that much of a difficult science.”

She then marched off to a bag she had near her and Uraraka’s blanket, getting some jars full of some kind of pebbles no one but Asui knew about, and threw a handful of them from below, not even caring to look in afterwards. When the alchemist left again, the brunette lifted her hands to fidget with her gloves, afraid of burdening Asui with her request.

“I was wondering…” Asui didn’t stop her task to even show a sign that she had listened, but the newcomer still talked. “if you could show me some advanced pharmacy when we reach our next stop, or maybe along the way?”

The girl did turn to her now, finger on her chin. “Yes, we did talk about this.” it seemed more like a murmur of ponderation and not a proper answer, so Uraraka waited with her fists clenched. She didn’t really have much idea on how to interact with some members of the guild, so she just would go with the flow most times. “I guess I can show you some techniques you can use at emergencies. I don’t have quality equipment here to show you much more.”

Uraraka showed a dashing smile, eyes twinkling in delight as Asui gathered their blanket and settled it on the ground. The other girl was quick to sit down on her knees, legs together with her fists resting on her lap, head slightly bowed– and the pharmacist was a bit taken aback by how willing and docile the sorcerer looked under her. A part of Asui believed that if she asked her to go to the end of the world for a single useless flower, Uraraka would go there if it meant making her happy.

God, how could have Bakugou mistaken her for a villain?

“No need to be so stiff, Uraraka.” the girl didn’t lessen the posture either way, and continued looking at her straightly and determined, serious and collected when she was squirming in excitement and gee for this little lesson. “It’s just a few tips to improve potions, curas and the like. I take it you can only prepare minimal brewages now.”

“Er, yes.” the brunette titled her head in defeat, a bit ashamed to admit that she knew very little for a being a sorcerer. “All potions I have with me were there when I woke up at the forest. Some were a bit more advanced if I recall… but most were basic.”

“It’s fine, you can learn a bit now.” Asui took out some leaves and little fruits. Some sterolias rolled off her little purse, and Uraraka reached out to fetch one. Indeed, it was as sweet as Mina had mentioned it to be. She accordingly spit it out again. It would never not repel her with such invasive sweetness. “Hold on while I sort this out. I didn’t have time to organize my tools properly.”

“It’s fine.” the sorcerer waved it off with a kind smile, and looked around for a bit. Everyone was sleeping soundly, tired from the journey and beaten up after having to put up with Bakugou grumping about how unhelpful Grinning Blade had been, and Uraraka could recall how guilt had been crippling inside of her as she shut up about the ordeal with that man, that guy who had looked at her so intensely and whispered such cruel, fateful words.

Her fingers tightened the fist. Death… they unclenched, relaxed, and the brunette looked at her bruised palms in deep concern and wonder. What did he mean with all that? And why had Shinsou… opened up so fast? What dark business did they have that somehow involved her, of all people?

Something foggy and dark was stirring in a corner of her mind, blending behind the broken shards of a frosted mirror, her future identity and all that carried behind that somehow bringing a chill down her spine– but she couldn’t touch it. The thought was bubbling, bruising, even. In the back of her mind, that man’s words had caused an unpredictable damage that wasn’t palpable, yet it was there, lurking behind the shadows she tried to look through, yet she couldn’t tell apart from mere paranoia and mild fear for what was to come.

A part of her wanted– needed to blame Bakugou for causing her such unnecessary ruckus inside her mind. The way he had spoken so highly and shaken about RampAge had her all kinds of shaken up. He was gone now, doing who knows what in who knows where, probably punching some butterflies off their caskets like the douchebag he was. Perhaps life was having a party on his body and he was being punished, hurt and that was why he hadn’t come back, and an unnoticeable spine run down her stomach and pushed down, down–

Her eyes darted across the clearing and stopped at the empty slot by Kaminari, wondering, again, why she was so uneasy at the thought of him being suspiciously gone so late in the night, why this care did actually exist. It could probably be because he had actually defended her from Shinsou and the whole village before this voyage had begun, but it was such a weird feeling to possess when he was all but kind to her. Why was she worrying so much when he was no more than some kind of vigilant for her?

What a nuisance, a little unneeded feeling. It sure would be a good riddance once she was out of this tired, critical state. A part of her wanted to get rid of it… yet another part of her knew there was no letting go.

“Tell me, Asui,” words fell off her mouth helplessly, not even thinking about what repercussion they’d have, or what Asui would think of her. It was a pretty bad habit of hers. Her eyes left the wrinkled blanket that was his red cape and looked at the one below their knees. “does Bakugou have that much trouble sleeping?”

It took a few seconds for Asui to answer. “It’s always been like this, really. I don’t see him much often, but Kirishima told me it’s been this way ever since he was a child. He can’t sleep until deep into the night. He runs on little sleep, though – tough guy, he is.”

Uraraka tasted those words wistfully, tapping her fingers on her lap. Bakugou didn’t really seem to have such problem, skin always pristine and devoid of rings or bags – but now that she recalled, he had mentioned he knew it took him too much time to sleep. Judging by his foul mood, he probably never got good sleep either. Was the bed too big for him? Or maybe he just got into heated arguments with the pillows? Apparently, the only way to ease this issue was going up the clock tower to either spend a peaceful night in solitude stargazing or being tortured with her presence.

Maybe he was gone for so long because he found that maybe solitude would prompt the so needed rest. It made her feel some pity for him in a sick, twisted way.

“Pay attention, Uraraka.” this snapped the sorcerer out of her reverie, blinking heavily. “Making a novice cura is easy, but making a successful extra one takes some practice. Making one mistake on the process is normal, and it won’t be a catastrophe to ruin the ingredients, but you can’t go relying on luck for further practices.”

Asui took a green, heart shaped leaf, and started to tear off its midrib with her teeth. “This is rough hand work, and if I had pincers, I would be much more classy and neat. One has to take the midrib off these leaves. These are called looibus, and are pretty cheap in an average shop. It’s always more economic to buy these instead of the prepared potions.”

Uraraka observed Asui remove the mid sections easily, and blinked in amazement. She had never seen such display in her life, her lips pinching the leaf and teeth tearing the section apart. “How can you do it so easily, though?”

“The veins of this species are especially thin at their starts.” she took a spotless specimen and pointed at the mid section, tracing it with her finger. She had a cut on a side of her index, Uraraka noticed. “See how the veins are almost unnoticeable? It makes the process much easier. I usually act precautious and use pincers and gloves, but this will suffice for the time being.”

Then, her fingers pinched the petiole of the leaf. “Good fetched herbs must always have their petioles, and if possible, a part of the branch they come from – just a minimal part, to extract the whole juice of the plant. How big the petiole is determines how much properties one can extract from it, therefore determines its final value.”

“Was that why you complimented Kaminari the only day?”

“Not really, ribbit.” she started to squeeze the petioles, also draining some from the midribs. Gooey, red liquids cascaded down into the flask. “The specimen he brought to me is special because of its spores. Those kinds of herbs have other value standards, and are hard to find. As for fruits, they depend on how squishy and intense they are in color.”

The sorcerer took a little sterolia from nearby and inspected it. She gave it a little squeeze, and the tiny fruit, not bigger than a raspberry, melded a bit. It was scarlet red, darker splashes coloring some parts. “Does that mean sterolias are sweeter, then? You never mentioned any property other than its taste.”

“Sterolias are used to dim the bitter taste of curas, but one can’t go around eating them like Mina does. They are horrifyingly sugary and can give one a bad stomach ache if eaten in grand amounts.”

Asui uncorked the green part of the little fruit and squeezed it. A teensy drop of yellow splashed on the other ointment. “May seem like a very small amount, but the potion won’t be very grand.” then, the sorcerer pointed at a jar near the cauldron, sitting next to Uraraka. “Pour some of that water in here. It’s fresh from a nearby river.”

Uraraka gingerly took the glass recipient and slowly put the water in. “Got’cha.” she was maybe a little bit too slow. The water made an agonizing dripping sound as it fell, and the other liquids started blending with the transparent water.

When the flask was full to a quarter, Asui put a hand on her shoulder. “There, that’s enough.” the brunette put the water away. “No need to be so delicate, though. You can be all harsh you wanna. Speed won’t affect the quality of the cura.”

The brunette scratched her rosy cheek with a bit of shame, grin trembling in shyness. She was trying to be as careful as ever, not wanting to let Asui see how nervous she really was about learning so many new things, and being a good pupil. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s ok. Now, stir this a little bit.” the sorcerer started mixing the liquids together until the red and transparent yellow blended and created thick, red substance. “As you see, you would need more leaves for a proper potion, but this will be enough for now. Looibus have high pigmented elements and nutrients, so very few leaves can do wonderful things.”

Uraraka took the little flask and did what human nature instructed her to: sniff the hell out of it. It smacked her nostrils with protruding sweetness and some acid undertones to it. If she had to guess, she’d say it would taste like cherries and lemon. “Smells rather nice. How much damage would this cover?”

Asui looked at the flask and then up to the awaiting girl, who held the potion with dainty hands and delicate touch, as if it was a treasure. “I’d say only minimal wounds, and not very fast. Kirishima told me you gave him and Tokoyami a pair of those during the battle with Pyrox.”

“Ah, I did.” the memory of Tokoyami and Kirishima sitting down in such bad state had Uraraka trembling for a second there. “I see it wasn’t that much of a big help.”

Asui sighed, shaking her head. “Not much, but it’s intention what counts. They could go home in a better state thanks to you.” this information made Uraraka’s heart swimming in pleasant warmth. “Either way, I will give you a little secret for better potions. It’s very silly… but it actually works.” she pointed at her bag as she drank a little bit of the point. “It’s part of what got me in this guild. Give me the little blue spines in a purple jar.”

The brunette undid the covering with deft fingers and ever so carefully took out a single needle. “There we go.” Uraraka was scared to the bone, chilled in goosebumps as Asui unfazed pinched her finger. Hard. “Don’t freak out, I’m not gonna die.”

“What the hell, Asui?” the water sorcerer licked a bit of the blood, nodded and dripped some of it on the potion below. Just some droplets. “Are you actually telling me–“

“I one day discovered that looibus has an actual toxin that stimulates blood creation in the blood stream. I once thought about what would happen if one added blood into the mixture, healthy blood.” Asui stirred the mixture languidly, and dedicated Uraraka a sideways glance. The aforementioned was busy having a seizure near the cauldron, shaking in utter despair. “What’s wrong? Are you really so peachy over seeing a bit of blood?”

“T-That’s not it at all!” then, the brunette pointed at her with an accusing finger that Asui paid no heed to. The brewage turned darker and darker. “It’s just insane to see you so content with bleeding and stuff for the sake of a little cura!”

“This isn’t a little one, you see.”

As a demonstration, the herbalist poured some of it on one of her many cuts of her hand, probably done during harvesting these very herbs. The cut started closing slowly, like a flower blooming inwards, and it was gone in a minute. “My blood is specially pure and healthy. Blood is thought to be replenishing for hard travels, a reason why most of us eat meat scarcely cooked.”

This had Uraraka even more afraid of the stoic herbalist, who was talking about drinking blood as if she was some kind of– “What the hell? Are you suggesting that even drinking human blood is alright?”

Asui looked at her with a slight exasperated glint in her eyes, but it didn’t show much. It seemed like that woman enjoyed keeping herself to herself in the weirdest of ways. “Sorry if it sounds weird, but it’s more of a little belief than solid science. It is true that blood boosts potions, though.”

Uraraka gazed at the still pouring blood, and saw it mix with the cura in little spurs of red claws, blending with the crimson red to make it powerful, an ingredient to save a life with the mere sacrifice of a droplet of human blood. A part of her heart trashed wildly inside her ribcage, the wise and troublesome words Asui had said so casually falling into a void of endless information, lore and extreme complications that would one day save her life– she just couldn’t see it right now, but Uraraka was sure she would find it useful one day.

She didn’t know why, but this lesson was extremely important to her. Yes, it was mildly creepy and offsetting, but she couldn’t help but feel thrilled to know a way to save someone’s life so easily, or at least prevent such occurrence. She entwined her fingers with an easy smile, watching the herbalist dump the potion into her bag. “I had a little stupid question.”

“What is it?”

“Well,” she looked at the ingredients spread on the blanket before the other girl started packing them into her bag. “I was wondering, would the effect be the same if one sucked the liquid straight from the loibuus if one can handle the bitter flavor?”

Asui bit her thumb in thought, and Uraraka had the urge to mirror her doubts by biting her knuckles or messing with her hair. Actually, it was feeling awkwardly itchy. She started to absentmindedly scratch her nape. “Now that you mention it, I had never thought about it. It sure would come in handy.”

“Well, don’t–“

“Are you fucking telling me that sucking on leaves can actually do your job?” the gruff voice made them turn around, and they watched Bakugou’s muscles flex as he held some logs on his shoulder. He unceremoniously threw them into the fire and it started licking the wood with passion, his blood irises brightening. “What do we have you for?”

That bold statement would have affected anybody who didn’t know him, but none of the sorcerers flinched at his brusque, rude words. Uraraka eyed Asui, who eyed her back for a second before looking up at their leader. “To make sure you guys have decent weaponry and not sticks like Hatsume would make to you. She can’t stand you.”

Bakugou shoved a bag with ingredients to the herbalist’s chest, who inspected the paper fixing in caution. “Fair enough, I guess.” condoned the messy blonde to the pharmacist, who ran happily back to the cauldron now that the fires were at their fullest. When she was safely up on her stone again, Uraraka started to fold the blanket.

The hunter watched the sorcerer scramble to sort out their sleeping arrangement, and started patting her pillow. She stretched her arms, her shirt lifting a bit and exposing some of her soft, pale skin. When her mouth fell shut after a little yawn and her eyes blinked soreness away, he finally understood what she was up to.

And when she limmped on the makeshift bed, all he could do was rage about her blatantly ignoring his presence. “Oi, Uraraka! What the fuck’re you doing!”

The sorcerer turned under the blanket and started stirring a bit, eyes blinking to focus on the heaving leader a meter away from her disgustingly tired face. “Do I seem to be killing rabbits?”

“Well, that would at least be useful to the situation, you dumb–“ he shook his head, because snapping on her wouldn’t do for the situation. He had tried to ignore this obvious feeling of hatred he had for her– but sometimes, just sometimes, she made it a bit too difficult being so casual with him. “Whatever, just what the fuck do you think you are doing?”

Uraraka turned under the thin blanket, her eyes facing the sky. Her words took some seconds to get out, his glare so focused on her that it was both amusing and somewhat intimidating, again, to see him so agitated. “I thought we had already stated that.”

Bakugou shook his head and proceeded to squat right next to her bed, hands gripping the fabric of his clay pants. Only now did Uraraka realize he wasn’t wearing his trademark cape and he suddenly looked so much more human and reachable like this.

“That’s not what I meant.” his contorted eyes landed on her stargazing ones, full of stars he would never even dare reach out for. It agitated him so much to see her so– just so pure and snarky at the same time. “Seeing the clusterfuck of problems we have around the problem, I can’t understand why you are trying to sleep it all off and not help somehow.”

That made her finally tear her relaxed gaze from the stars and finally pay attention to her fuming leader, who was seething over her and was either trying to scare the hell out of her or get her to move. None of them worked. “I was just taking some spare lessons from Asui for chemistry resources. Should I remind you of our encounter with Shinsou earlier today?”

Just out of nowhere, the working herbalist butted in. “Just so you guys know, the others are sleeping…”

Both warriors looked at her for a pair of seconds and dismissed her to continue bickering.

“Yeah, I do remember pretty damn well– and not because you did much anyway.”

It was now when the brunette squinted at him a little bit harder, eyes pointed in analysis as his posture was too scrunched, his cape forgotten in a bunch – something so odd from him, as she had taken him as a tidier individual – and his eyes racking around the embroiled ends of her blanket, his mind probably years and possibilities away from what mattered, from what was spinning around them as she stared intently at him. Her brow fell, and she found herself asking before she could bite it all back into place.

“What’s wrong?”

The blonde snapped from his trance immediately. His hands released the fabric of his pants and they slammed the dirt underneath, eyes widened in panic and accusation before she could even explain herself. “What the he–“

She clamped a hand over his mouth, and much to her surprise, he didn’t bite it off like he probably would have done before. Judging by his eyes though, he was probably dying to. “You are going to wake the others up, stop raging on me.” Uraraka hesitantly let her hand drop a little after she sensed he had calmed down, and he made her retreat with a hand to her wrist. He didn’t let go of it for security measures. “I am a member of Yuuei now. You have no other option but to regard me as such.”

She very sadly had the upper hand there. She could no longer be ignored or treated as the terrorist he was trying to believe she wasn’t, but the title was so fucking hard to get rid of after he had hung it on her for this long. Now that he noticed it, her looks weren’t those of a rogue criminal or a strong person altogether. Her cheeks were annoyingly rosy, eyes too big and hair too stupid. Again, she was so deceivingly naïve looking that it frustrated him and only added more to the fire.

He despised her. Bakugou couldn’t say he hated her anymore, because he was no fool and Uraraka wasn’t either. Her eyes weren’t those of a liar, but held kindness of an unbeaten person, slate clean purity in a brown splash of colors, gleaming to the fires of the camping. Her hands seemed to hold the keys to every untamed kingdom of his mind, yet he would never let her have the right locks to open all its rooms. His eyes shifted again, looking at his hands again.

Yeah – his hands clenched, admiring its scars, and closed it again with a grimace – he hated how he hadn’t been right about her being an impure bitch, but a part of him lay in joy seeing the investment would be worth it. The little titles of her head, the twinkle in her eyes, he would be there to see it all come true. It would take time for him to fully accept it, but he had to start taking steps.

It took him a little bit of resistance, but he ended up talking, shaky.

“There is a traitor in our midst.”

There was silence after that. Bakugou looked up to see her mouth agape, eyes big as saucers– but there was no trace of suspicion or anger, just shock and mild fear, or maybe curiosity? Her mind had toppled over the edge and fallen into an impossible abyss of mindless options, scattered pictures of her companions crowding her fall. The faces outnumbered her, scratched canvases of compatriots becoming traitors, and claws pulling her down where it was darker, faster.

Her body landed in solid reality, snapping back as the possibilities stopped spiraling around her– eyes settled on Bakugou, and this was the very first time that, underneath the soft stare of the stars and the moon, the leader had let anything akin to actual feelings show through that thick barrier of his, surrounded in spikes that not only separated people from him, but also the other way around.

He was a leader, another member, one that trusted his people with his stone, guarded heart. Knowing that there was a traitor in his surroundings must have him scared for once, feeling betrayed and having a knife pointed at his neck without knowing who the hand belonged to. The feeling was a bit alike with Uraraka, who regarded all her sleeping companions in a clouded scan.

It was then when the sorcerer realized that Asui had settled near her, and was tugging at the big blanket to cover herself as well. The girl gave the thingy up and shifted closer to Bakugou, who was sitting in front of her. This bad habit of being too near to people could get the best of her very easily, but this was the first time she intended to be a comforting presence to him.

After all, she had to take steps to normalization as well.

“How can you say this?”

The boy sighed, and rubbed his face with hardened hands. The brash leader was a far cry from this exhausted man, who was starting to see a mountain of problems coming to them with RampAge on the loose as well. Having a traitor among them, possibly in this very same camping where security was minimal– alarms were flaring inside of him, and it made him look ages older.

“Remember this afternoon, when we were almost ambushed by an archer?” the brunette nodded. Her hand had throbbed with intensity to protect the blonde in a primal instinct of sudden care, but the initial shake had very much worn off ever since. “The wood of the arrow was made with our guild’s material.”

This piece of data was incredibly accusatory, but the pieces were totally scrambled in Uraraka’s head. “But, maybe they simply use the very same types of–“

“No. Things ain’t that easy in our village.” the wood had burnt so nicely in his hands once he had been alone, so flammable and nice to combust. He knew the touch and feel of it very, very well. “Guilds have their own portion of forest to take resources for weapons from. Pillaging is a very different thing to this, but the Council would never let us have a whole forest for ourselves. Even I can tell that would be conceited and dumb as fuck.”

“So, you are saying that you know it because it’s wood from your forest?”

“Not exactly, as Grinning Blade has the very same kind of wood for their arrows and sticky blades.” of course he would talk about them as wimps when he had a fucking axe as playful toys to battle with. This man was gentle now, but he would have his claws out the moment this intimacy was torn apart. “Clock girl applies a material that helps the arrows burn fast, but that can preserve the arrow while burning, like a match. It’s a handy technique we use for ambushes at guild battles.”

Now that she thought about it, Mina’s hands did have ugly burns. She must be a really valued asset to their guild, as archers seemed awfully scarce as well. “Are you sure this is that much of a secret ointment?”

The ashen blonde nodded, a frown crowning his angular traits. He dragged his ass to a tree behind him and he rested his head on it, a bit far from the sorcerer now. Fire burnt not very much away, the clearing being small and the guild members resting far away from the other, yet close this time heart-wise.

“Frog girl there is who actually helped our blacksmith develop the resin.” oh, so he was talking about Hatsume, the overly excited girl at the support basement. Clock girl was… kind of a lame nickname for her, though. “I trust them enough to know they wouldn’t give this away, so I assume this fucker must have taken arrows from our headquarters.”

Rewinding back into daytime, it had been a shame sun had hidden this traitor in shadows, cloak and hands covered in blackness. Uraraka hadn’t thought much about this event in particular, had thought it was probably one of those illegal hunters making trouble again. Her hands started raking the back of her head, that thing she did all the time when she was nervous or anxious– yes, all the damn time, and everyone included Bakugou hated it.

“This is troublesome, then.” spoke she, matter o’ factly. Her eyes bore in his, worry shining through like water in a glass jar, so painfully obvious she cared for his guild that he snarled, feeling creeped out by her attachment. “If the traitor is with the others, they won’t be able to call us for help.”

He looked at her a bit more, then looked at the fires and secretly watched over his peers. The girl in front of him did the same. “I will be keeping guard in case somebody here decides to play hooky on my ass.” he spoke with such hate, burning ire and anxiety for his guild’s security rising into the air. “I won’t let that fucker get out of my eyes that easily.”

Uraraka observed him from the corner of her eyes, a sincere smile fighting its way into her tired cheeks. Her next words were as gentle as her smile, as her eyes. “You do care, after all.”

It was no more than a whisper, but he heard her anyway, ears trained to hear an ant jump from a leaf to another, and craned his eyes to her. Bakugou showed no sign of approval, but didn’t reject the statement, either. “I am a damn leader. It is my obligation to look after these wimps, because if I don’t, they will be rotten meat by the time we get to the village.”

That made her laugh, then do a double take and actually revise his pointed words. “It’s not like we can’t manage, you know. If you have won so many battles against Grinning Blade, you sure can be lethal. Jack’s words, not mine.”

The hunter turned to her, eyes indifferent but still tasting the pride in her words. In a sense, he was immensely proud of what they had all accomplished together, but his heart somehow didn’t want to take the conversation in that direction. “I never said you weren’t able– I sadly know you are perfectly able to fight anybody in your path.” she looked at him again, cautious for whatever he was going to spit now to ruin her. Surprisingly, he just didn’t. “Kaminari and Kirishima sure are, the same with Iida. I know you guys can actually fight back.”

Arched eyebrow at him. “So, you are actually complimenting us.”

Bakugou doomed her with that sadistic smile of his that sent her heart in a mad ride, but she couldn’t really explain why she still felt so intimidated while on the road to normalization. She would have to get rid of those petty fears if she wanted to meet his ground someday. “When I call you a terrorist, I mean it because you are a menace. It is an insult.”

Her eyes deadpanned in his, bored and waiting for him to go down the very same decaying road. “C’mon, finish me off.”

He squinted his eyes at her, head titled forward. The fires shadowed his eyes in an even harder glare. “What I mean is that now it seems like you can play the role we want you to. So you can try to see that as us knowing you are able.”

“So, you are admitting to me, right here and now, that you do aknowledge that I am strong.”

“Oi, don’t sass me, Uraraka.” the sorcerer giggled, and she crawled to rest against the tree by her makeshift bed right next to Bakugou, who only recoiled so she wouldn’t step over his boundaries. Her eyes climbed up to the starry ceiling above their heads, and found out that Bakugou was wistfully stargazing as well. “Relatively speaking, you are strong for a novice. But I can’t have you relying on brutal smacks that leave you as a leech right after. That will never do.”

Her voice was lost in the night sky, then closed her eyes to feel the dark breeze of the river neat them. “I guess you are right on that. I do wanna get stronger, you know.”

Bakugou looked at her with intensity. The orange lights of the fire lit up her eyes, but it wasn’t like she needed actual fire to shine, right? It was this weird feeling inside his chest of seeing something ever so scary inside of that petite body of hers, a feeling so enticing yet so mysterious as that face of hers seemed familiar– but it had terrified him and then made him leap to anger. She was the only one in this forsaken guild that could flip his switches.

And it threw them off even stronger when he saw that she never meant to trouble him, but she did anyway. Uraraka hadn’t meant to come across as a terrorist, as a menace, as his heart sworn enemy after Shinsou and Midoriya– yet, she hadn’t shrunk. She had sucked it all up and faced him in so many occasions, little by little, and had made her stand up against a fucking mob of people conspiring against her.

She hadn’t meant to step in here, but she had anyway and there she was, quiet as if her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down like his had been. Couldn’t she realize what a fucking nuisance she was, that he was bearing with a little too much to his liking?

Look at what she made him do, have to step out of his way to try and accept her. Disgusting. Yet he was doing it anyway, and it was starting to become easy not to hate her. And a part of him knew she was easier with it that she had once been. He didn’t really want to know what was going through her head, but he deemed it better to be like this.

But then her eyes drifted to his, and she grinned when he found him staring. Bakugou growled with disdain, making her giggle. Her eyes warmed slightly when he didn’t immediately threaten her like he would have, just swallowed it up. Yeah – both thought, eyes glancing up the stars – it was becoming easier to overcome such universal rules.

“How strong do you wanna get, though?” his words were hoarse in wonder, more spoken to himself than her, but it made her interrupt her internal schemes to regard him. His eyes moved to hers as well, red bleeding in pure chocolate. “I don’t know how ambitious you are power-wise, but I can assure you you ain’t becoming a professional powerhouse anytime soon.”

Uraraka hugged her knees, sighing. Her tone deflated slightly, her mind set off far ahead. “As much as I can. As much as I can take. As much as it requires so we can take down RampAge and fix the universe.” so there she went, speaking about such thing like it was a silly matter to the wind. “I will overcome myself, and never bow to an enemy again.”

Her eyebrow was knit in determination, no longer talking to Bakugou, but to herself. A part of him knew this was like some kind of mantra to her and that Uraraka had this tone that esteemed danger and threat in a thousand languages, but not a single cell of his body found the energy to complain despite this being a clear hazard to her. Honestly, at this stage, she could go throw herself off a cliff, he didn’t care much about it.

It may be because he was tired, but stepping from actively trying to kill her to simply not caring about it seemed like a great step to him. Better to not want her than want her dead, right? Irony would get him for that later on.

“Well, as long as you don’t cause me fucking trouble, it’s fine.” condemned the leader, but he had a feeling she wasn’t really listening. “Now go to sleep, it’s been enough talk for the night.”

“Mhm, agreed.” nodded she, still relishing in the glimmer of the fire near her, wood cracking under the moonlight. “We have stayed civil for too long, better to not drag any further.”

The blonde hunter growled at her after such remark, to which she could only laugh and sigh. She wasn’t stupid, and knew that deep inside, he was a bit afraid of moving on from that comfortable stage they had of hating each other recklessly and having swords drawn all the time– but she was starting to move on, which sadly didn’t mean he would move as fast as she would. The past was a long forgotten memory, but she could only wonder how much it’d take for him to let it go.

And the thought tired her so, so much.

Yeah – after a short glimpse at his eyes burning at the fires with passion and complexity, her head craned back to the fires too – she did care about him, after all.

“Papa, who are those people at the barrier?”

Nameless peaked from the border of the cauldron, pink hands coming to swat them away in fear she would burn herself. Bubbles floated from the recipient, pink hues delighting the girl before they burst in the air, and she laughed in senseless joy. “Ah, my child, no more than silly invaders.”

“Yes, that’s what mama told me… but I don’t understand. They seem docile and…” the face of the boy came into her mind, his rude and blonde behavior contrasting so much with those kind faces that had allowed her to cross the river, bland attitudes and some smiles thrown her way. “They even have the same skin as I and Harold do!”

“Harold?” she nodded, only to have her tutor crouch and ruffle her hair with his clawed hand. “Don’t you mean that red boy with the hard skin? Was it... Kirishima?” the girl’s eyes lit up, and her head bobbed again with a wide smile. “Well, yes. You do share some similarities, but the color of your skin doesn’t define who you are, darling.”

“But we are so similar!” Nameless outstretched her chubby hands, petite pads grazing his dad’s claws. “Look, papa, my hands are different! Yet, they are invasors and mama hates them? I don’t get it.”

The little brunette crossed her arms, cheeks puffed in disagreement. Whether they were invaders or not, they hadn’t tried to touch her despite being from another species, from another face of the incoming war– she was their enemy. But nobody had dared to touch her. Her dad could see a million thoughts running across her sensible mind, so he just shook his head in utter defeat.

“Some time ago, we took something from them– something very important.” that had her looking up, hands limp on her sides with the very same naïve look everyone knew her for. “Something that holds great power, something that belongs to us, and has always belonged to us. It’s the reason we are still alive now, they fear us. This land– this planet alone, it all belongs to us.”

Nameless continued looking up, brow knit in confusion. Her heart beat out of control, breath stale and staggering to keep her alive in the very same place she stood, and she wasn’t there anymore, backgrounds changing to a fuzzy rainy ghost town full of dead trees, where an orange house stood and a warm family lived. The drops of a far away rain hammered on her skin, and never left.

When her eyes looked up again, they were wet with tears. “Daddy, I don’t understand! Does that mean they want to really destroy our species? Because they are… greedy?”

Father looked at the girl sternly, but didn’t give her a response, stirring the brewage silently as Nameless wiped her eyes clean. In fact, her father would never give her an answer, but the fact that his eyes had stared at her so intently brought tears to her face every time.

A part of Uraraka had once found herself believing that travels like these were bound to be fun, used for bonding and mental training. As she had been packing all her stuff, the only thoughts that racked her head being images of her friends laughing, telling stories as they went or taking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Of course, she had been wrong.

Not too much. But still.

The group walked through the forest in a slow trudge, under the shelter of a blinding sunshine that never gave it a rest. Whilst they were walking just by a river – Iida had diligently explained to her that the Capital was located just by a river, so as long as they went in the right direction, they would never get lost – there was no breeze whatsoever, and Uraraka had to remind herself that using magic under such critical elements was not healthy.

There was this moment when Tokoyami came to her side and asked for some whips of air, as Asui had no knowledge of how to do them. The brunette had sighed in resignation. “It’s not wise to use elements you can’t actually bend in space. Bending elements consumes energy, but bending elements one has to actually create is an incredible waste of energy.”

Kaminari, who had been talking with her all the way, butted in shamelessly. “Whoa, those books that Yaoyorozu gave you must have paid off for sure. You sound so technical, Uraraka.”

The sorcerer smiled as contently as possible, sweat gleaming under the hat. “One tries her best. It has happened to me that when I try to light up a candle with no fire around, I feel a bit colder afterwards. So now, creating air out of nothing would possibly knock me into a heat stroke, and I doubt you guys would enjoy carrying me all the way to our next stop.”

She could already hear Bakugou scheming ways to convince her to help Tokoyami, and fumed at his back. He walked a few steps ahead of them, battle sword in hand just in case any nasty enemy came to crash the party. Bakugou looked behind him and instantly snapped when he found her staring at him with that stupidly fumming of hers. “What the hell are you gawking at me for, Uraraka?”

“Wow, Bakugou, moody much.” commented the other blonde, and it sounded like such an obvious statement, devoid of surprise and just too plain regular that nobody paid him any attention. “Sleepless again?”

This time, the hunter was the one to look back at her, but his eyes weren’t as loaded with hatred as one would expect them to be. “Yeah, talkative midgets won’t let one rest.”

Uraraka found herself very much offended when all eyes landed on her. “Hey, I am not that talkative! Stop– Asui, are you seriously laughing at me?”

Asui had only giggled a bit, which counted as a laughing fit for her. “Sorry, I am just kind of glad you two are already making nice. Kudos for putting up with Bakugou so far.”

The leader stopped in his tracks and leaped before Asui with a tapping finger on her arm. It had taken him way too long to snap at someone, which made Uraraka breathe out, finally. It was better to have him throwing a fit now than when they got to the village, tired and sore from skipping streams and getting boulders out of the way.

“Oi, who you calling hysterical, frog girl!?”

She only blinked at him, not as terrified as pale Kaminari was of him. It really seemed like most people from Yuuei had the beast under control, but even Uraraka herself who was kind of used to him – she had experienced him at his worst personally, there wasn’t much worse than that in store for her – would jump at his brashness sometimes. Asui, though, she was so collected and unbreakable.

Sometimes, she wondered if–

“FUCK!” Uraraka turned to see Tokoyami clutching his shoulder in pain, and with a little shift of his posture, she found a dagger stabbing his skin. “What the absolute–“

“My my, foreigners in our territory!”

The crew turned to their right, above the river and up to a mountain cliff. The leader of the group growled loudly and unconsciously walked to stand before his team, sword drawn at the unwanted presence that stood atop the cliff. They wore black cloaks and there was this one that stood in front of the group with some kind of scepter drawn out, black strands of hair blowing in the wind. Uraraka could even sense the wicked smirk that Bakugou sported so well under the capes.

“Hold on…” her eyes squinted at the cloaks, and recognized the beads at the pointed hoods. Her breath got stuck in her throat. “– t-those are…!”

“That fucker.” snarled Bakugou, cleaning some sweat from his jaw. “Where the hell did you guys come from?”

The female voice talked again, head lolled in mean intentions. “Nobody you will ever care about, soft boy.” she looked at one of her henchmen. “Wipe them out.”

This mercenary swung his hand to the right, and a thousand purple spears appeared in the air, pointing at them, and fell down faster than a lightning bolt to crush them dead, pierce their skulls and leave them bleeding on the ground, making the leader chuckle and lips her licks at the full display of flesh she’d have for her people, but–

“Look out!” Uraraka’s staff swung at the sky and a rampage of fire and lighting exploded the attack into smithereens as a ceiling of light rippled in the air, making the forest dance at the wave and the enemies’ cloaks float for a few seconds. The energy rippled onwards into the forest, and burnt some of the highest trees until they were no more than ash.

Uraraka stood straight again, forehead sweaty and weak knees. “That was close.”

Bakugou smacked her on the neck with a grimace, which she rubbed in pain. “No need to burn the fucking whole forest down though. We’re seriously gonna work on that.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at the awaiting group, dangerous lights flickering down in her glower. “Noisy children.” she tugged at her hoodie, and dug some dirt out of the cliff with her staff. “Be right back, guys. Don’t wait up.”

And the woman straight jumped off the cliff, staying in mid air for a few seconds to focus on a safe landing. The blonde leader tugged at Uraraka’s neckline and yanked her backwards so she could stay out of the damn way because she didn’t know how to do anything else but stand in his way. When he saw that that damn witch was going to land straight on him, he dug his blade on the dirt and held his wrist straight up.

“This is gonna hurt like a motherfu–“ and he fired, rippling explosions driving through his skin until they imploded and exploded into the air fifty meters above them, fire bubbling in the air as a gust of wind rushed into the ground and slammed on the dirt loudly, making Asui actually stumble and fall into Iida’s armored hands. Uraraka held onto life by driving her staff into the ground, Kaminari holding onto her as well.

This foe though, she was no commoner. Her body dived straight through the explosion with her cloak riding the air, and the hunter had to leap back with a shriek her her scepter slapped the ground and made the soil crack under her feet. Then, she was up, head titled in amusement as her voice cackled in disbelief. “Fun trick, kid. You sure don’t fool around.”

“You…” Tokoyami stepped forward as well, standing by Uraraka’s side. A hazard of a shadow lurked behind his eyes, oh she could tell so well, and his hands were clenched in crossed arms, pondering the potential of this enemy. “you are one of those illegal hunters, aren’t you? From the Jirou family.”

“Ne, such a blunt statement from a bird boy.” she wiped something from the corner of her mouth, and Uraraka came tumbling into the terrifying conclusion that is was red, crimson blood. “Why say it so spitfully, boy? It’s not like we are the plague. And please, don’t make me feel related with that bunch of scruffy criminals. I have more class than that.”

Kaminari stepped in front of Uraraka and Asui, who looked troubled at the sight of such shady woman. “Not like you made that evident, jumping off a high cliff to attack some kids.”

“Never said it wasn’t an adventurous kind of class, blondielocks.” her eyes bled in blue purity into Uraraka’s ones, speaking of horrible death penalties for the sorcerer in her head. “Ah, this child. You sure ruined my little show before, I can get why your village is so damn scared of you.”

Her other hand rested on top of a black whip, nails long, black and dirty. Her uniform was torn in several places, revealing bunches of scarred skin and blood caked on her hip. This woman – Uraraka shuddered under Bakugou’s glare, who was exceptionally aware of what she was thinking – was dangerous. In a kind worse than Bakugou, worse than Shinsou, or darker than that man’s chamber at the mountain crevasse.

She was terrifying, and the thought made her take a step back until she was met with silence from the black-haired woman. Something was telling her to step back, something deep inside those eyes made her world fall into a ditch of statics and bugs, nagging thoughts of nightmares and blood dripping down her hands, heads surrounding her and rain falling on her neck again–

A jolt of electricity made those thoughts disappear until they were no more than a stain in her mind. “She’s toying with you. Don’t look into her eyes or she–“

“My, such a talkative boy.” snarled the woman, flicking her hair over her shoulder under the cloak. “Let me introduce myself, even though I doubt it’s necessary, right? Judging by your faces, I doubt it’s necessary.”

Her hand fetched her hoodie and tossed it behind, revealing a sharp, pale face with black glasses and pointed factions. That face… – Uraraka screwed her eyes shut, biting her lip as she thought back in days when she had seen that face, that victory and those dead eyes of hers that–  Uraraka gasped, and a mild rush of fear ran down her spine at seeing such a dangerous figure stand idle in front of them, in front of him.

“I go by the name of Midnight, referred as Hollow Despair by my peers and all those who survive me.” her voice was arrogant, but not in the way Bakugou’s was, again. She was in so many ways as mean as the leader was, yet it was easy to see he was just unreliant and brash. Yet, this woman… she was so much more than that. “Hey, brown eyes, see this staff? It’s way prettier than yours.”

Uraraka had the urge to spit on her and say it just wasn’t her cup of tea, because that scepter of hers held a deadly aura nobody liked. Black staff with bars surrounding a cracked skull, moss growing out of the ancient heirloom. It sprinkled some odd vibes off the scepter, smells like a cemetery, and the place is suddenly deadly silent for the moments to come, the voice of this mercenary filling the whole forest. “I am a necromancer, professional in the art of death and despair, and whoever who crosses paths with me is destined to receive a nightmare battle. No opponent of mine leaves unscarred. Nobody ever has.”

This makes Uraraka gulp, and hears the distant clinking of Bakugou’s sword being drawn out from the earth, and a chuckle. It is all so distant, why did she feel like this? Blood was plumping into her heart in a frenzy, rationality forgotten as her hands trembled on her staff’s hold. What the hell was going on?

“Necromancers are the antithesis of sorcerers.” mumbled Asui to her peer, who eyed the pharmacist with tired eyes. It looks like Asui was kind of exhausted as well. “Their energy naturally draws your energy and sucks it into their bloodstream. Our magic can’t do much against them.”

“Then, we are useless?” exclaimed she, frantic and desperate as the deafness only drew in closer. “We can’t do anything?”

“Pretty much.” Asui looked at the four warriors in front of them, and eyed Bakugou as he drew his blade in front of his guild mates loyally, which made Asui sigh in relief. “They won’t need us that badly. I wouldn’t worry much over it.”

The brunette had never felt this helpless in her whole life. This was the first time she remembered to have needed to lay down her weapons, nature too cruel and mean to allow her to fight. Her hands trembled in anxiety as the boys aimed for the woman, attempting to nuke her as hard as possible– but their attacks were futile against that agile woman who rejected their attacks with a swing of her damned scepter.

“What the hell, woman?” the leader held a hand up, explosions rippling, and slammed it to the ground as to make it tremble, knocking her back a few meters as it cracked and shook under Bakugou’s grasp. “You a look a lil’ shaken up! Why don’t you come and face us?”

His bravado was all but useful – mused Uraraka solemnly, gripping her staff with strength. A little breeze blew from behind her in the middle of the battle, making her nape feel relieved and her life start beating anew, renewed limbs and decision etched in her thin veins. Asui looked at that dangerous glint of hers, and grew worried for her friend.

“Iida, protect Asui!” called the brunette, making the knight spin to meet her eyes. “I will serve as support for them!”

The brunette treaded towards the fighting blur of colors and smashed the ground with her foot, a column of spikes rippling from beneath and running towards the necromancer, who broke them with ease with a swing of her scepter. Ah, so much for being sneaky, and Bakugou looked at her with exasperation at her for pulling such bland move.

“Oh, we have a newcomer here.” Midnight tossed a strand of hair aside and pounded the ground with her weapon. Uraraka heard Bakugou and Kaminari grunt, and they were clutching their heads when she craned her head to meet them. Her eyes grew concerned, but didn’t think much of it. “It’s good to see a little mage playing with the world as well. We sure are the misunderstood profession, huh.”

Her heart was tugging ever so slowly as Midnight stared at her intently, and her stomach lurched as something akin to exhaustion and awkwardness stirred deep inside of her, her brain racking with various facts that suddenly made her feel nervous, anxiety crawling and gnawing from behind as it pulled, pulled, and suddenly impacted on her.

The brunette was almost brought to her knees as energy was drawn from her, replaced with all kinds of negative thoughts that had her mind screaming to stop, weak and fragile, slow and burning. “Disposable.” snapped the necromancer, and tugged her hand up to make the ground quake beneath her, sending Uraraka flying towards the depths of the forest.

Kaminari screamed for her name, but was interrupted halfway when her feet scraped the ground and created cushioning spikes of stone and stopped the push, landing on her knees with a hand on the ground, panting. Bakugou and Iida blinked at her, and watched her brush a bead of sweat off her jaw. She might have survived that, but that woman was drawing energy off her too fast.

“You can’t die, huh? Miracle girl I shall call you.” snarky, egocentric and the pure evil, that woman was. The little sorcerer was able to stand up, and Kaminari instantly came to shield her, whip drawn out and sparkling with bolts. Midnight licked her lips at the blonde boy, who was frowning in a threat at the mad woman. “Don’t stare at me so hard, boy.”

She dug her scepter a bit harder on the ground, her smirk tightening as Bakugou and Kaminari this time doubled over in pain. They groaned a few curses, but still managed to stand. Bakugou dug his hand into his head and Uraraka saw him tug– wow, he was trying hard. “What kind of game are you playing, damned witch?”

Uraraka’s eyes then drew to the staff on Midnight’s hand, and watched the skull. Blood rushed to her ears and deafened for a second, a wave of displeasant wind thundering across the small clearing. It sent Bakugou and Kaminari to their feet almost instantly, but Uraraka was quick to bend the current and drive it back to her, sending the mercenary flying meters behind again.

“Fucking shit,” mumbled the leader, struggling to stand again now that the other woman was a bit further away, trudging towards Uraraka. “what the fuck are you–“

“She may be a necromancer and…” her legs buckled underneath her, but Bakugou made no attempt to help her stand as in, as he expected, she was able to sustain the swoon and manage to grab her staff for support. “all that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t use brutal force against her.”

Bakugou stretched his fist with his other hand and rolled his neck a little. “I can handle her, but your magic will only nurture her if you use too much of it. It ain’t wise at all to go into battle, Uraraka.”

The girl eyed him warily, an eyebrow quirked as she finally properly stood up. Midnight was starting to stand up, brushing some dirt off her neck, and Kaminari stepped to his peers again. “She ain’t backing off easy, huh?”

“Ain’t happening.” the leader was still kind of scored on, his legs were quivering in the meanest of ways, and he held his head on his hand. Still, the grimace of a challenge still gung on his face. That made her smirk a little, and his sword hissed in front of her feet. “Not like we can’t take that bitch, right?”

Uraraka dug into the ground with a defiant, meancing glint in her eyes, and Kaminari stretched his fists as jolts shot out of them. Still, the girl wasn’t sure if they would hold up for much longer. They were panting, willing to fight but their bodies seemed to have other plans. She did hold onto hope despite the circumnstances, and watched the necromancer get to her feet with a horrifyingly pissed expression.

Her head snapped to the cliff she had come from. “What the fuck are you losers doing up there? Get these kids!”

Bakugou already had a plan in mind, and flashed a glare at the bird man. “Bir– Tokoyami, Iida!”

“Got you, master.” Tokoyami was gone in a flash of shadows, and a screech that Uraraka had to cover her ears from. Iida was gone with the boy, and had left Asui to stride to her companions.

The enemy was gripping her cloak when Uraraka looked up again, and this strange, bleak smile broke free when she had all their attention. Her brow was knit though, showing a contradictory set of emotions. The sad, angry and ravenous vibe never wore off, and only started to wear thin on everyone. The more they looked in her eyes, the more the darkness drew closer.

Bakugou stepped a little bit forward, standing in front of the group. The woman wanted to laugh. She did. “Oh my, such mighty group sending two boys after my mercenaries. I hope you bid them good farewells before this encounter.”

Kaminari put Asui behind him in basic instinct. Uraraka, instead of being content with the arrangement, stepped forward as well. “You should be worrying about your people more, old hag.”

“What do you–“

A collection of pained screams issued from somewhere in the forest, along with the very same screech they had heard before but double in intensity, as if moaning in misery. It was heartbreaking, yet immensely powerful. Midnight turned at them in disgust after narrowing her eyes at the source of sound. “What even–“

“That must be Tokoyami sorting out the trash, ribbit.”

“Tokoyami…?” now that Uraraka thought about it, she didn’t even know much about him. As far as she had seen, he didn’t even have weapons with him. What the hell was his profession or skill if he even had one? “Well, that’s not the thing now!”

Mignight growled at the people who she saw as children, a nuisance, and pounded the ground with her scepter. “Silence!”

“GAH!”

Kaminari and Bakugou let out a loud scream of pain before limping onto the ground, trembling and crawling on the ground for dear life. Kaminari was out of comission in a second, his trembling stopping altogether and his breath haltering. Uraraka gasped and stiffled in a scream as some blood started pooling around the boy’s head, white and statics covering her mind as screeches, blood and rain mixed in a metallic pang of worry and panicking.

And above all, red. The red of Bakugou’s eyes, squinting at the necromancer as he crawled to her. It was as if gravity was pulling him down and not up as usual, his voice wasn’t edgy nor his muscles were tensed in emotion. This was raw, desperate Bakugou, crawling as Uraraka stared from behind.

“Y-You… fucking bitch…”

Moments of void echos vibrated in the zone, and the leader fell out of consciousness, reality leaving his thoughts and movements and he fell, shattered and stopped breathing. When Uraraka and Asui saw the very same crimson blood start falling off Bakugou’s closed lids, something snapped in Uraraka. The image came in waves at her, something about it being so so vaguely familiar, yet so very distant and out of reach.

Showered in far away, metallic awry rain, she watched the blood spill from his head, and then looked up at Midnight in pure rage. “What the hell do you think you are doing to my people, witch!?”

“I can’t really see the diff–“

“Shut up!” Uraraka flung her staff in front of her, ruffles of fire cascading down onto the earth, with lighting, making Midnight jump to a side and avoid the fire crackers.

Her staff touched ground again, and as she crossed her hands, an ancient spirral of chaos and destruction shone under her feet, contained in a white seal of thunder and rocks. “Accept your fate, nothings!”

When she released the seal, a big thunder wave of wind and lighting slammed onto the ground, shook the gravel and sent the brunette flying meters behind, trashing trees at her wake as she flew across the air and landed on a bigger tree, which resisted her push yet made her head hit the trunk pretty bad, clothes scarred and torn with burns on her skin. The area was ruined with a long hallway of broken trees and dust, making Asui frown her eyes at the murderer.

Uraraka didn’t get up yet.

Midnight looked at Asui with disdain. She couldn’t feel any magic in her, and that… thing wasn’t even human. She was a mutant. “I don’t know what you are, little thing,” with a hard thrust on a crack, Asui was flying as a rock pillar sent her out of the ground from below. “but I don’t think these kids will need you anymore.”

Asui tried her best to flail her arms around for some movement, but Midnight ended discarding her at the river that flowed behind them, and Asui didn’t surface from the dark waters either. The necromancer chuckled at the rich collection of decaying bodies in front of her, and saw them writhe a little as she moved. Her scepter articulated a chain with a gripper, that attached itself to Bakugou’s neck. It gripped his throat tightly, and as Midnight tugged at the chain, she smirked. Delicious blood dripped down his jaw as his nose bled as well, and she kicked his shoulder as she clenched the chain with her fists.

“Pretty little boy.” the tugged at the chains harder, and tried to dislocate his shoulder with another kick from her heeled foot. “Such a disg–“

A explosion was heard in the distance, and Uraraka was sent flying after Midnight as fire rippled from her palm, screaming at the top of her lungs. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!” and her body impacted with Midnight’s in a deaf sound, movement stilling before the woman was sent straight into the cliff, a cavity created as the necromancer unceremonously landed on the wall.

Uraraka hissed in pain and waved her hand with a little blow. She couldn’t understand how Bakugou did that crime on a daily basis without being handicapped for a while, because her hand would bleed and bruise after such compression and explosion of energy. Magic wasn’t supposed to hurt her that much physically, but this trick of his was a fucking suicide bomb.

However, Midnight didn’t take much longer to be getting up again. Uraraka looked at the river, and alarms rung all over her head, an annoying beep in her ears as the crash left the whole place silent. “Asui!”

But a clap of thunder tore the ground beneath her apart, and a huge shadow kicked her on the back as Midnight slammed the scepter into the crevasse. Uraraka rolled dangerously near the river, and the necromancer jumped to this side, snarling. “Disposable little thing.” she gave her another kick, and Uraraka was sinking into the waters of the stream.

Her eyes tried to blink open in the dark waters, and could differ some streaks of light stemming into the low ground below her as she floated deeper and deeper. Her hair waved around her like a halo, her torn clothes heavy and caressing her burnt skin, caked in blood and savage intentions that had left her dizzy, confused, and she was almost touching ground now. Luckily for her, the river was particularly still now, but it still carried her onwards little by little.

Uraraka finally fluttered her eyes open, and silence greeted her surroundings aside from occasional bubbling. She tried to make out her surroundings in the muddy waters and found out that some wounds were stinging her like bees, so she gripped her hand for dear life. Her back was throbbing as well, which wasn’t very good either.

She grimaced. That nasty necromancer was for sure doing bad things to the bodies of her friends, and she had been so fired up at the thought of having to celebrate a burial in such nice day. Her eyes had lit up, teeth clenched as an avalanche of disarrayed emotions whirled through her– only to die here, at the hands of muddy water and a laughing sociopath.

She looked at her bruised hands, then at the surface, and tried to flail a bit a move. Nothing. She kicked her feet around, nothing. Not knowing how to actually swim only came to her mind now, and she would have cursed loudly if it hadn’t been for the water making its way into her esophagus, ice and fire fighting as it burned, scrorched, and she clenched her eyes in pain.

Then, something frail and lukewarm enveloped her in the muddy darkness, and she let herself be taken.

Midnight kicked Kaminari’s unconscious body a little, humming in approval. “He would make for good fodder. I can use him as a delicious container, though… heh, so many possibilities for my people, to–“

A loud splash of water rumbled behind Midnight, and she turned to witness Asui enveloped ina massive bubble of water, Uraraka tucked under her arm as one of her hands was shot forward– and the pair floated in the ball of tides before Asui unleashed the currents onto the unsuspecting Midnight. “River Enchanting: Dragon Slash!”

The bubble disappeared into the shape of a roaring transparent dragon that screeched and pushed Midnight deep across the forest, creating a streak of havoc that threw the enemy out of the clearing, devastated trees and created a little earthquake when it smashed the necromancer onto the ground, throwing her to the dirt below.

Asui left an almost unmoving Uraraka on the ground as she effortlessly strode a bit towards the streak of destruction, no signs of pride showing whatsoever the moment she saw the wrecked, shaking bodies of her peers on the ground. The other sorcerer made an attempt to lift her head, and started coughing out water like a sprinkled as soon as she was conscious enough.

As Asui stepped nearer, she glared at Midnight like she had never done. “Don’t underestimate a little girl like me, hunter.”

Midnight hissed dangerously at the herbalist, crouched and wiping some dirt and blood clean from her face. “Not worth the pain, fucking children.” she tucked her head under the hoodie of her cloak and fled out of the scene, letting Asui breathe in relief while rushing to Uraraka’s side.

The girl was trying to spit all water out of her lungs, clutching her chest while grunting and grimacing at her blisters and cuts. “Are you alright, Uraraka?”

Cough, cough. “Y-yeah, just–“ she closed and opened her bruised hand, sighing in relief when there was no open wound that could have been polluted by the water. “– kinda peachy. the others though…”

Uraraka scrambled to her feet and hurried over Bakugou to slap his cheeks a few times, then shook him. The fallen leader only breathed a little bit, blood falling down his nose and trailing on his cheek. Uraraka craddled him on her arms while Asui checked on Kaminari. She wasn’t even thinking, all she wanted now was for him to wake up, just wake up, jus–

“Uraraka, stop!” she couldn’t understand. Why was seeing Bakugou hurt hammering so hard on her? Her heart wasn’t beating that hard, she wasn’t breathing heavily– no signs of distress, yet, why was she clutching his head so tightly?

Metallic thunder and rain clapped in another place, falling down on them in another story, another world, another time. It was raining somewhere else.

“Mother…”

“We must hurry!” the brunette eased one of his arms around her neck carefully, and wrapped her own arm around his waist, getting up. “We need to take them to the nearest village, quickly!”

Asui obediently tucked her own arm around Kaminari, who almost toppled over and crushed her with his weight. “Couldn’t you use your ability, though? We could take them there faster.”

“Impossible.” and Uraraka regretted saying this, because if she had spent more time training her skills rather than chatting around, she would be able to take them flying somewhere safe. “My ability gives me terrible nausea if I overuse it. I haven’t had enough training to–“ she adjusted Bakugou’s body on her side with a grunt. “–to actually develop it properly. Damn it.”

“We should manage until we get to our next stop, but we will have to make it a race.” Asui looked around her, searching for the right path in the midst of the forestal havoc around them. “We will have to make Iida sprint to the village and tell the others to give us a hand. Yaoyorozu is our best hand to play here.”

Uraraka took a cautious step, shrugging his body closer– then another. She could manage. “This guy sure is heavy, but alright. I gotta… be strong, and push on.” this last bit was murmured more for herself, mentally lost in the middle of a clearing of confusion, worry and searing heat around them.

But Asui smiled anyway.

When Bakugou came to, he felt like wherever he was, it was the wrong place.

His fingertips scraped the soft thing underneath him, tilting his head a bit when he was met with a soft blanket, rough at the edges, but smooth all the same. His head was on something bland, and his neck, bandaged and kind of tight. It was stitchy. His arms felt sore as well, and his wrist was pained, swollen much probably.

His mind did the kind gesture of backtracking a bit, then heard noises out of the place he was in. He clenched his eyes close for a second as light started filtering it, hinges sounding, and steps trudged around him.

“Bakugou?”

The leader woke up with a start when he saw Asui staring at him right in the face, not more than a few inches away from his nose. “What the actual fuck, frog girl!”

“I was expecting you to remember my name or at least call me by it. Whatever.” the blonde boy supported himself on his elbows and looked at her go to a little table at the end of his brown, orange and white room. There were a lot of medical supplies there. “Try to rest. You weren’t easy to fix.”

His eyes trailed down his abdomen, but no bandages rested there. There was nothing in his arms, excepting his hands, and then he had one wrapped around his forehead, something heavy straped on it. Bakugou let out a big breath of exhaustion as the events from last–

“How long…” Asui came to remove the damp cloth from his head and nodded. “have I been here?”

“Two days.” answered the girl quickly, and dried the cloth on a nearby bucket. “Midnight did a number on you and Kaminari.”

–right, two days since that stupid witch, a spawn of the devil, came to play with him. He felt impossibly weak after being so beaten up, and undeniably  weak and stupid. He wondered: what would had he looked like, laying half dead on the ground at the mercy of such a powerful enemy like that woman? The ground had cracked evenly beneath his muscles, pain rippling inside his mind– and suddenly, he was no more. The aftermath was rough, but so was the fall.

“Ribbit! Don’t burn the mattress, Bakugou!” smoke was steaming from his hands, and Asui had to slap them off before he had no bed to sleep on.

He frowned and attempted to sit on the bed. When Asui tapped his shoulder, he extended his arm obediently, stil fuming over his defeat. “I just can’t believe that bitch got me so damn good…” Asui quietly damped his neck and shoulder on oilments, and looked over his arm with critical eye. “Damn that Jirou clan… They are no good news.”

The girl gave his neck a final squeeze and retreated back a little to squeeze the water out of the cloth on a bucket. “She was overpowered, there was no hope for us to win. All Uraraka and I could do was knock her around a little bit. Thank god she got tired of us quickly.”

Bakugou frowned when that damn sorcerer’s name came into the topic, and hissed with deep hatred. She sure must have had the time of her life laughing at his decaying corpse while she nuked that necromancer. “Of course you were able to play with her.” he didn’t know who he was exactly referring to, but he was getting pretty mad at the image of him laying and Uraraka standing and fighting. “Fucking sure you could.”

“Sheesh, calm down.” Asui stared at Bakugou shredding the blankets again. Such a waste of bed clothing. “It’s fine. You don’t need to be the one stomping on others’ heads all the time. Does it really make you that mad we were the ones who got her to escape?”

“I don’t fucking care you were able to get her out of our tails. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you girls doing something.” his grimace got so drunken in rage and regret that he had to close his eyes and seethe in silence. “But I can’t get over that damn midget–“

“Oh, so this is about Uraraka, even after all this time.”

The leader craned his head slowly to glare at the herbalist, who clearly didn’t give a fuck about his little grudges with her. “Don’t sass me either, you damn–“

“No, really. I can understand what you mean.” condoned Asui, a finger to her mouth. Judging by Bakugou’s surprised face, frown squished in wonder, she had all his attention. “We are all aware of what Uraraka is capable of doing. There will come a moment when she will surpass our own expectations, and she will step over us in power.”

“Yes, damn straight.” agreed he, slamming a fist on the ruined blankets with a snarl. “Finally, someone sees my point–“

“However,” of course, she had to ruin the little communication they had. “that doesn’t mean she is a menace to us. All this time, she has proven to us that she had a good heart in many ocassions. Do I have to remind you of how she still tries to talk to you despite your foul personality?”

Bakugou almost jumped out of the bed and knocked her to a better life, but decided against it because, after all, she was the one curing him. “I am a damn delight!” he slumped on the wall, arms crossed and pouted, nose wrinkled in distaste. “And it’s not like she is trying. She just doesn’t get the damn hint I don’t wanna be her friend, and if it was up to me, I’d fucking  have her head on a wall.”

“You still personally accepted into the guild, though.”

“When will you all stop rubbing that in my face!?” screamed he, but Asui still continued stirring some creams and treatments on a flask, herbs smashed on a little handkerchief. “Damn her, and fuck her cheeks, her staff, and her ass pity! I don’t need anything from her.”

“Stop sulking.” scolded the water sorcerer with a minimal scowl, disliking such childish displayal. “If you were an actual mature leader, you would have put this grudge of yours aside and looked at the situation with critical eye. I understand that you may not like her, but she has saved your ass many times now.”

“EXCU–“

“Listen,” she cut him off gently, like a little knife in fire cutting a solid cube of ice butter, her eyes soft and hands fidgeting beneath his eyes set aflame. “for starters, it was her who got up after a solid, killing blow and knocked Midnight out of the clearing. I was the one who ended up kicking her off, yes–“

“Again, it’s not like I don’t aknowledge her strength, but I don’t own her a–“

“–but she was the one who actually saved you” not Kaminari, not Asui, nobody else but him, and he could see that tint of insistance in the pharmacist’s eyes. “from probably getting necked off. When she saw you in such bad state, for some reason I can’t comprehend, she went berserk. Afterwards, she personally carried your ungrateful ass to the village, and helped me tend your severe wounds– wounds that, mind you, would have been worse if it weren’t for her.”

Such rush of information caught Bakugou off guard, and he actually flinched at the accusatory tone in Asui’s tired voice. Now that he noticed, she had bags under her eyes, her hair was unkempt, and her skin has several untreated wounds. Was Uraraka in such state as well? After saving his ass, after actually carrying him here, was she untreated and disarrayed like this snarky pharmacist was? The thought suddenly didn’t bode well with him, and something akin to shame panged at his heart. He swatted it away quickly though.

“Look, I know that you don’t like her, and you will probably never even be friends with her. Nobody is actually asking for such miracle.” Asui padded next to the leader, who glanced at her in thought. She had never seen so silent in her whole life. “But she doesn’t deserve this rage after going out of her way for you in these occassions. In the same way you think you don’t need to thank her, she doesn’t need to do anything for you – it’s not her obligation, it’s not necessary, but she still wants to help you out anyway.”

Out of the blue, his grudges were kept under the shadows and they just stopped nagging at him, stopped putting him on edge, and let him take control of the situation. It was true that the sorcerer was usually nice at him – well, apart from the times when she only went to him to pester and ask ridiculous questions, but that wasn’t the point. Uraraka was a threat, hell yes, she would always be one – but that didn’t really need to stay that way forever.

Up to now, all she had done was put his guild out of trouble when he was either too small or the situation was too big. She was undeniably powerful, had a strong will, and needed to bloom in so many ways. She was a sorcerer, a threat to humankind he needed to keep his eyes on– but things didn’t need to be that way. It was hard to stick to such beliefs, but now that he thought about it, it was more tiring to dislike her than just humor her.

He eyed Asui warily, giving up. He could try to be actively cooperative and stop taking steps back.

“And how am I supposed to be nice to her?”

The girl didn’t show any signs of relief or happiness, just nodded and flashed a little smile. “You could start by going to see her. She left a few hours ago, said something about studying, and scrambled off. Maybe thanking her would make her day a bit better after slaving herself for your sake.”

“Thanking her?” the concept seemed painfully foreign to him.

“Remember, Bakugou… she may one day tire of being nice to you. It may seem like a good riddance now, but trust me she is a keeper.” and he had been told about that a few times now. Kirishima and Kaminari had talked pretty well about her, and all he had done to condemn those opinions was accept her into the guild. He had felt like he had done enough with that, but it was seemingly too little of an action.

The blonde hunter sighed tiredly. In a way, her studying for their trainings, for his guild, after tending his wounds for being a wimp… it wasn’t really fair. He was a fair dude. He wanted justice in his guild. He could give her justice and try to make it all easier for them both– and his guild, remembered he with a grimace.

“Yeah, whatever. Just gonna get this over with so you guys stop giving me earfuls about her being a fucking miracle.” grunted an ugly breath of discontentment and dettached himself from the wall. “Can I walk, though?”

“Of course you can.” he sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasping the blankets with care. He would probably have to pay for those. “Your neck will feel sore for a while, and your wrist is kind of swollen too, but that should be gone in a day. For now, take it easy.”

Bakugou played a bit with both parts, twisting his wrist – it hurt – and craning his neck – that did, too, and he slammed a hand on it with a hiss. “Fine. Just give me some treatments so this nuisance is gone. Where is Uraraka at?”

“This is our room, but she didn’t want to be disturbed or disturb us, so she is taking an empty room for now.” seriously, who told her to be so goddamn nice? Bakugou growled a little. Was she trying to purposefully make him feel bad? He hadn’t given her a reason to do such things, just… “It’s the one at the end of the hallway, with the pot on its side. Try not to be too brash, alright? You just woke up.”

The leader brushed past her, fetched a simple shirt from the hanger by the door and hurried inside of it with enormous urges to get such mental burden out of the way. He had no time to deal with petty businesses like these: he needed to focus on RampAge, on the timeline, on saving it and saving his comrades. It seems like he would have to get Uraraka to feel like one to start with.

“I ain’t moody, frog-girl.” grunted he over his shoulder, biting back so many insults that, after some silent thinking, she didn’t deserve. “I’ll come back to get some painkillers. Pray for that brat’s safety.”

Asui was about to say something about it, but her voice died when the leader slammed the door close was left with heavy stride towards the damned door. He squinted and saw that the mentioned pot was red, giving him all kinds of bad vibes. Each step he took felt like a stab into his pride and all morals he had been building these years, like tearing a wall down brick by brick. She gave him that uneasy feeling of being defenseless in front of her straightforward attitude, how she was unaffected by his remarks.

He hat– no, he didn’t hate her. He didn’t want to kill her, either, he decided. She was worth keeping, but she didn’t need to make him feel bad about it. He hadn’t done anything to deserve such treatment. He didn’t owe her anything more than a simple thank you. He had already decided that she didn’t mean any evil by being so… like this, and all he could do was try to make it easier for her.

Bakugou just shut his critical part of his brain and acted as his fair heart wanted to. He couldn’t cut her off the picture anymore when she was so adamant on sticking by him. It annoyed him, yes, baceuase she felt like a liar, because he didn’t need it– but, apparently, his guild and him sometimes needed her. And for actually being there, she deserved the recognition. Even if she annoyed him.

Knocking on the door with obvious impatience, he have the pot a kick for the sake of keeping his personal tastes in check. He then knocked again, and again, but nobody answered. It came to him that the door was unlocked after a rather violent hit, and he opened it with uncanny precaution.

Bakugou groaned way too loud when he saw her slumped over the table, too many books and scrolls crowding the desk and her head tuked on her arms, on top of a book that seemed to be almost compeltely read– seems like exhaustion got the best of her and she had collapsed before reading the book and had, consequently, overworked herself to this extent.

Uraraka was too hard-working. It unnerved him for a reason, because she didn’t need to do this and instead she went on and did it. The world wouldn’t stop spinning if she took a rest after taking care of him, she didn’t need to make him see her worth so hard. Not like this after saving his ass. A small wave of new guilt came crashing on him, overwhelmed him for a second. The world faded, there was only her, books, bags on her eyes and wounds on her arms, blisters, burns.

She didn’t deserve this. The feeling overtook him before he whacked the chair she was on to silence his heart. “Yo, Uraraka, what the hell.”

The sorcerer didn’t even budge at his brash attempt, only snuggled deeper into her arms and mumbled something under her breath. The leader angrily kicked the table, which shook, but didn’t wake her at all. Talk about heavy sleepers. He gave her shoulder a little shake and silently seethed over how cold she was. Now that he thought about it, the room itself was abnormally cold.

“Damn it, Uraraka.” he tried to keep it in, but he never did good with unbehaving people. He slammed the table with his hand and made all materials quiver, including the sorcerer. “Fucking wake up already!”

Uraraka flung her head back with a start, almost hitting Bakugou on her side, and somehow resumed reading the book in front of her. “Sorry! Right, so, humankind tried to–“

He smacked her neck with a fist, angered at such careless attitude. “What in the world are you doing, Uraraka?”

The girl moaned and rubbed her neck with a pout, then yawned but stopped halfway, such gruff and hoarse voice so rich and vivid that she recognized it I a second too late. She turned her head to glance up at the livid leader, who had a hand on her chair. “Oh, Bakugou! It’s good to see you awake!”

The sorcerer blinked, some tears of sleepyness trailing down her cheeks, and yawned again. He grit his teeth and had this inhuman urge to close all her books and make her rest for a damn second. “What the fuck are you doing? Shouldn’t you be sleeping after being my nurse or something?”

He mentioned the issue so lightly that if she took it into consideration for more than a second, he didn’t notice. Uraraka turned to the books, then him. “Right! Well, I just had some spare time to finish off some books Yaoyorozu gave me, so I could go get some new volumes at the local library tomorrow, because you see, what I was given was kinda…”

She trailed off for a few seconds, holding Bakugou onto a line of broken dialogue, then she yawned and that was the last nail on the coffin for him. “I don’t give a fuck about it, go to sleep already. It won’t do any good for you to be limping around when we train.”

Bakugou then noticed that one of her hands was completely wrapped up in bandages, as was that very same arm. In fact, some medications laid around the room and he was starting to freak out over this woman. What kind of alien civilization educated her to be this crazy? All she was doing was straining herself. He didn’t give a fuck if she had a bad time while being rough on herself, he wouldn’t be crossing over that line anytime soon.

However, as much as he tried to stifle those thoughts, the excuse of this load of work being bad for the overall guild seemed kind of unfounded after all she had gone through because of him.  She didn’t really deserve that, but again, he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. Still, he gave her another shake when she started dozing off on him. “Oi, at least hold up until I leave the room.”

“Oh! You are… right.” the brunette rubbed her eyes awake and looked at him from lidded eyes, peeking. Exhaustion swam all around her, she had this nasty ability to transfix feelings so damn easily. “What did you need, though? There is no way you would come to check on me without a reason.”

One of his eyes actually twitched after what sounded like an accusation, but he didn’t verbally express it because… nah, it wasn’t worth it. “Just go to sleep already. It ain’t worth it anymore.”

“Are you–“

Bakugou got a handful of her hair and smashed her head – slowly, though, as to not break the books – on the table. “Yes, I am sure. Just rest for a while. That’s…”

That was the least she deserved.

“Hm?” she didn’t even make an effort to get up, and only looked at him as he turned around to leave her. Her eyes were closing on their own, submerging her into a field of flickering blackness and swimming, scattered mumbling. “What is it?”

“Tch.” Bakugou shook his head and went for the knob, and before he knew it, she was breathing evenly again. He turned to her again, and was proven right when her eyes were closed, mouth parted and chest rising and falling under his irritated glare.

His head snapped to a blob of reds on a chair in a corner of the room, and a part of him wanted to walk the extra mile and get that blanket and suffocate her so she wouldn’t feel the coldness of the room. After a minute of glaring daggers into the fabric, he gave it a rest and turned heel again. He had done enough already, no need to overdo it.

Yet, right before leaving, his eyes trailed over her slomped form and sighed, vexation finding itself into him again and he closed the door, softly, muttering something about this being useless, her being irritating… but he still decided that he would be giving her the message he had intended to.

She always made him feel so many contradictory emotions. He wanted to respect her and be nice, but she made it so very difficult by being so unbearably… hardworking, determined. He didn’t like admitting that Asui may have been right in most parts of her version.

Still, he didn’t care. Uraraka could go and sleep around all corners and cut herself an arm as long as she didn’t bother him. And this didn’t bother him.

Not a single bit.

Uraraka hadn’t rested. Against Bakugou’s ever so gentle orders, her head hadn’t found a drop of rest in the pages of this massive book of history. When her eyes fluttered open, about half an hour after Bakugou’s departure, a load of other volumes presented themselves in front of her eyes.

She glared pointedly at them, and frowned. It was a miracle she had managed to swallow so much information on a sole go after the battle with Midnight, or dealing with a Bakucorpse and the aftermath of it all. After being warned that she needed to train her abilities more to avoid situations like these in the future, she had gotten as many books from her bag and read as much as possible. The rest… it had rolled off casually, really.

In a moment, she had found herself wrapping a blanket around herself and padding to Midoriya’s dorm, which stood right in the other hallway of the little residence, and she had been given a clear response on the matter before she had even completed her request.

“No.”

Uraraka puffed her cheeks at Midoriya, who balanced himself on a chair. Lots of documents rested on his desk, unopened envelopes and maps, and she couldn’t help feeling like an intruder in his room. “Are you kidding me? Why not?”

“For starters, I don’t know why you want more books after Yaoyorozu gave a pretty reasonable amount of them. I don’t understand why you have decided to finish them off so quickly either.”

“Well, I just wanted to get things out of the way! After Midnight gave us such scare, I can’t go on without some kind of training. I can’t train with Bakugou having RampAge on the loose, not in ideal condtions anyway.” the leader shook his head with a bashful smile that made her hold her breath. “What’s so good about the situation anyway?”

“You and Bakugou are so alike sometimes… such a shame he will never see you in that way.” he sighed, but there was this kind smile he always had on despite being serious. This man was levelheaded and calm, smiling and kind. It reminded her of Todoroki in some ways, but Midoriya was clearly more outspoken than the other boy would ever be. “Still, I don’t want you go to overworking yourself any longer. You have other things to worry about.”

Uraraka crossed her arms, folding her hands on her elbows and tapping relentlessly. “I won’t overwork myself. It’s not like the situation doesn’t require some–“ she had him frowning straight away, so she had to instantly cover it up. “but still! I know it’s not healthy for me either! And it will hit the guild if I falter.”

Since she was lying a little bit, she even used Bakugou’s words for reference. Turns out she was using Bakugou’s methods and awful lot lately. Uraraka couldn’t make anything good out of it. “Please, Midoriya! I won’t overwork myself.”

“Can’t take the risk, Uraraka. You are also straining yourself too much by even being here so late in the night.”

“The sun just set.”

“Still.”

Both sighed in dejection, as they wouldn’t reach a meeting point anytime soon. Midoriya wanted his guild mates to rest idle and easy, Bakugou as well. Then existed Uraraka as an oppositing force that would do anything to fight and become a fearsome professional on her own. She had the will, she had the strength, why not let her stretch the gum a little more?

“Doesn’t matter, I guess.” breathed the girl in a whisper the other didn’t hear. “I will just go have a walk around the village or something. I don’t think I’ll be able to have a brink of sleep after all this.”

Uraraka bowed a little with a small smile, and turned swiftly to leave. Just as Midoriya’s chair scraped to meet the table again and focus on the matters at hand, Uraraka faltered in her step. “I don’t wish to be too inquisitive, but…”

Midoriya turns a little to regard her, his eyes interested on whatever business she is about to say. Again, this boy had this strange ability to make her feel warm and kind inside, always listening to her requests and cheering on her. Her mind was always at ease when she was with him, his words well intended and his attitude collected and nice. She now wondered why, somehow, she had ended hanging around Bakugou instead of him.

Fate was not on the same wavelength as her, for sure.

“Why is Bakugou so… perpetually on edge with you?” this seemed to startle him, and maybe this wasn’t the right mood in which to ask so Uraraka stumbled to explain. “I know this is a sudden thing to ask but… it’s weird to see two leaders be so distant from each other. Don’t mind me if I’m being a gossip and stuff but I just–“

“Please, Uraraka, it’s fine.” cuts he in, waving her worry off with this little shine of his eyes that was so sweet to her and endearing. “It’s an old story, no need to even mention it. He is just…” he measures his words, rolls them around his tongue and them lets them fall off in a trail of sad thoughts. There is senseless regret there, too. “let’s say he just doesn’t like me much for… reasons, personal reasons. We are working it through.”

“But–“

“It’s fine, Uraraka. For now, just focus on resting. Wander around a bit if that will help you sleep.” the girl had so many words inside of her to still say, but she forcefully swallowed them and gulped, a hand outstretched in shock. “There will be several fairs around town we will be attending soon, maybe you can check some out now!”

And she blinked– blinked because Midoriya had been so quick to raise the shield and silently kick her out before she said too much, asked too much. If there was something she knew right now was that this wasn’t her place, so she gave it all up and sighed, shrugging. “Yes, I will do that.”

Surprisingly enough, she didn’t sound edgy at all there was this scratchy knot in her throat from both exhaustion and the feeling of having this unbreakable wall in front of her that separated her from the nice leader, and having been so blunt about it seemed like lack of respect for him. In a bow of silence, the girl turned and left with a little nod of her head, leaving the leader to sort his business, which sure weren’t small.

She found herself slowly trailing down the stairs of the building, her red blanket trailing behind her with the swoosh of the night breeze. The weather wasn’t humid, wasn’t dry either, just lukewarm and pleasant. Still, probably due to her tiresome schedule, something was off about it. There was a mild disturbance in the air, something about her stride was too fast, and people around her minded their own business when they felt so far away from her.

Right before leaving the small building, she noticed that the main door had no knob to open it with. She turned to a maid hurrying around the lobby. “Excuse me, miss! Ex– excuse me?”

The blonde woman halted her frantic race to look at Uraraka, a basket of dirty clothes to wash on her arms. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well, I wonder how… I know this may sound stupid but,” she signaled at the door behind her with a thumb, smile bashful and the other hand clutching the blanket around her. She also realized her hat was gone. “how do you open the front door? Do I have to push it open? I feared it would–“

The maid arched an eyebrow at her after looking behind her shoulder. “Miss, I’m afraid there must be a mistake.”

She pointed at the door, and Uraraka was met with a silver knob shinning teasingly under the lights of the candle chandelier above them. Her breath staggered in her mouth, swirled and got heavy like lead, falling down her stomach and crushing any sense of tranquility inside of her. Her thoughts, her little antics and whatever spark in her doe eyes faded to black, and her jaw trembled, shivered and cackled against her upper teeth.

The maid wasn’t there anymore, only the feeling of being forcefully scraped out of the world and everything felt even odder than before, drearier, and all she could wonder was how the situation had gotten to this point. It had to be the timeline being messed up again – concluded she, gulping a big bubble of thick realization, eyes wide as saucers. The walls crumbled, the paintings fell and the maid disintegrated to flesh and bones, no more a woman, but a corpse.

This situation was… wrong. It was wrong in so many levels.

The sorcerer slowly touched the doorknob and finally released a load of relief when it didn’t bite her, or burnt her skin. She twisted it and she didn’t even bother looking behind her to watch the maid leave, just high tailed it out and closed the door behind her.

The small village was soaring to life, apparently. There was this small bonfire near her, at the center of the village, and some stands of warm food and little silly games were put around her zone. Her eyes drank from the orange flicker of the torches, ears tingling when she heard childish laughter – a few children came running near her, and she had to step away before they crushed her, all with a smile. The moon was high in the horizon, stars covered by some clouds, but it was beautiful in every way.

Her orbs roamed, her body idle, and when her eyes landed on a little tent, she snapped and her heart jumped. Some building away from hers stood a little purple tent, beady with crystals and lacking a door, just a curtain to let curious wanderers in. If she was insistent enough, a small quantity of incense could be noticeable.

Her feet made the way to the tent without the sorcerer really realizing it, and Uraraka found herself peeking from the curtain. Inside, there was only a little table, two candles lit with blue fires, and a deck of cards. The small breeze made her hair sway with the gentleness of its caress. She tucked a strand behind her ear before speaking out.

“Hello? Good night… I am–“

“Welcome, dear.”

Uraraka was near to smacking a hinge off the fabric tent when the woman made an appearance in a cloud of mist, her head cocked to a side after seeing the little girl so shaken. Darkness embraced her like a second skin, the lights wrapping around her clothes in a mysterious, whimsical aura of obiquity and deep intentions, covered by a veil. All Uraraka could make out of her was her infinite trail of black hair, impolite porcelain skin and a black dress. And the thought of the woman unconsciously hiding her identity only made Uraraka feel further away from this world, tucked safely on this very small tent where incense fleeted on a thick cloud of dense air, hard to pin down but still offputting.

“I’m glad you came.” again, it was like a golden thread of smooth silk touching her, that voice. It was enticing and pleasant to hear. “Not much people entrust their lives with oracles these days. Your eyes though… seem troubled.” she took a break before saying these words. “And exhausted.”

Uraraka tangled her fingers on the back of her head and rubbed, rubbed, because those eyes of hers were echoing so hard into hers, and the air was again, too thick. She couldn’t see them move, yet she could feel her as if she was an inch away from her. “Ah, well, I didn’t have much sleep tonight, miss. I was walking around here and saw this little place.”

“Tell me, young girl.” she reached out and lifted Uraraka’s chin up, and she didn’t put much of a fight. “What is it that troubles you?”

The sorcerer shuddered under her touch, and felt some kind of void when the woman busied her hands in shuffling the tarot cards. Whoever this oracle was, she had this power to draw information from her ever so easily. Her voice was soft and sweet like honey, but intentions and movements sharp like a razor blade. Still, the incense tingled around her, calming these feelings down.

“Well, I have been having these… weird dreams, nightmares. It can be any of both, really, but they follow the same theme, the same story.” Uraraka crossed her arms, trying to remember vivid images of it all. But all she could see now was a smiling girl, sunflowers in her hands and bloodstains on her dress. “I don’t know who it is about… I see it all as a spectator, as an omnipotent force who can do nothing but stare.”

“Dreams and nightmares, a classic.” the woman laid the deck on the table, and folded her arms beneath her chest. “If you are having these occurrences, it means that something is calling out for you. Tell me, could they be something akin to lost memories?”

“I… I don’t believe that to be the case.” despite that being the only likely scenario, Uraraka found herself ending up denying the possibility. “I never woke up with any sense of recollection, or bonds for that matter. The feelings fade from the memory fast, but they leave scars. I can feel it all,” she raised her shaking hand to the light of a candle, black swallowing her palm, and then closed it. No sense of completion got to her, so she mourned in silence. “but it’s all like a far away feeling… I get this inkling it all may have to do with my dreams.”

The woman had listened obediently and nodded, it was her turn to play her role now. “I see, I can understand the trouble. Do you wish to make them disappear?”

Uraraka recalled having heard names from people she knew in those wild sets of dreams, adding fuel to the fire. “I’d want to find out what they mean, and then get rid of them, if it’s possible.”

The woman chuckled, but it wasn’t an evil kind of laugh. “It is possible, dear.” her hands disappeared from the table, and Uraraka’s breath was again dancing inside her lungs, stuck, when she drew out an ivory knife, golden handle and black dots on the back. “I will need a droplet of your blood.”

She took the sharp knife with dainty hands, testing its weight, and Asui’s lessons suddenly came to mind. “Do you plan to create some kind of potion with it?”

“Not exactly.” the oracle hit the deck to even all the cards, and tapped it twice. “These cards shall tell what those dreams mean, for which I will need to identify you. Your blood is all I need.”

Used to specific information, accurate data and loads of nearby facts, somebody being this vague struck hard in her, and she found herself feeling wrong in this place. The smell of incense and tightness was squeezing her heart in a vicious clap, all swirling around her madly as she stood in the eye of the hurricane. It was wrong, but at the same time, what could she do in this situation?

The girl sighed, dedicated a last look at the oracle, and cut the back of her palm with the knife. Rich, crimson blood started flowing out of it steadily, and when the oracle pushed the deck near to her, Uraraka tightened her palm into a fist and a newborn drop fell on the deck. As soon as the blood touched the deck, it vanished into a little puff of burnt paper, leaving only two cards on the table.

“These two will tell you all information you need to know.” condemned the oracle, her eyes swirling around Uraraka’s– and god, she could feel everything in this room sharpening, making her feel light-headed, and somewhere along the way her recollection of even entering this place left her. “We will lift the first card, now.”

Her nails scraped the table, then flipped the card. Uraraka recognized it, and the view left her speechless for a second, a shadow setting behind her eyes as fear and horror soaked her whole.

“The Hanged Man.” spoke the oracle, solemnly. When the sorcerer didn’t even ask about it, she lifted an eyebrow at her. “No need to alarm. There are no cards that are directly negative, but since this affects your dreams, I reckon you should be paying more attention to them.”

“What…” her heart shrunk in her ribcage, eyes staring in disbelief at the glaring image. Her hand fisted the blanket around her. Uraraka only knew that the oracle’s voice had turned somewhat colder, only lukewarm, and heartfelt. “what is this supposed to mean?”

“A crossroad.” she took the card with two hands and showed it to the shivering girl. The image boomed inside the girl’s dampening mind, drunken in incense and high on clashing emotions that had her heart near an arrest. The fires lit up against the card. “A road that will have you make a decision. There will come a moment in your life when you will have to make a decision– an important one.”

“A… decision.” whispered Uraraka, her brow knit but trembling in confusion as danger thrived in a far away place from this, a very different time and very different circumstances. Her eyes drifted to a corner to not let this compelling sentence crush her, and the oracle nodded curtly. “What does this have to do with my dreams?”

“Your dreams are trying to guide you through your decision. They are posing different the options you may not see now, but you which you will see in the future. Someday, you will have to face a choice. And it may not make you happy, or others for that matter.” murmured the oracle, yet her voice blared in the other’s ears.

So she shifted her hands on her lap and let it all sink in slowly, letting the thread leisurely snap inside of her, letting bleakness and obscure colors sneak up on her. “I… see.”

The oracle checked on her for a second, then flipped the next and last card when Uraraka nodded at her to proceed. The view afterwards pleased Uraraka to an extent, but the feeling dimmed quickly when the oracle only stared deep in thought. When the oracle caught the sorcerer shifting her eyes between her and the cards, a long sigh escaped her lips and fanned the veil.

“The Hierophant.” judging by her solemn tone, that wasn’t good news. However, she was now avoiding Uraraka’s inquisitive irises, which were searching for clues in the oracle’s hidden expression. There was a ghost of a grimace in her voice. “It comes to affirm all I have been told to this very moment.”

Uraraka tiptoed around the topic carefully, and doubted about what to say next. She found her ground a solid minute later. “What… does it mean?”

“It means making a choice. A good, correct choice.” responded the oracle, her tone dripping with grieving and sheer disgrace. Despite this card being shinier and overall more positive than the last one, she was talking about it as if it was a pure curse. Her presence loomed over Uraraka as darkness peeked again. “It means stopping for a second, breathing and rethinking about which is the good choice.”

“As in, backtracking?”

“Kind of.” agreed she. The black haired oracle stared at the cards, now set on the table, then back at Uraraka. She let out a loud grunt after a while, and if the sorcerer could tell with perfect certainty, she would swear teeth were glistening underneath the veil. “You will be confronted with a very tough decision, which may be why your dreams exist in the first place– to guide you to the right decision.”

“But…” her eyes were shadowed by a sad frown and a slight descent of her plump lips, her face a ghost of the cheery girl she always was as a grim foreshadowing hovered over her head and settled over her shoulders, responsibility breaking her heart. “what is the right decision?”

“I’d say that’s up to you to decide. If the cards insist this much on this decision, it must be a very important one.” theorized the oracle, tracing the hem of the cards carefully. Uraraka nodded intently, her eyes flickering in intensity under the blanket of incense. “The cards seem to sense a relationship between your dreams and your future, so they are building up until the day this decision comes. Again, if the cards are so adamant on this… the world could very well be resting on your shoulders.”

Those last words shook her and it felt like a little knife brushing her skin, tender and slow, up and down, as it loomed around her for a surprise strike. Danger was always so close to her, showing its claws in oh, so many ways… yet, it would never present her with the reality that so many pointed at her. Everything… it all just looked like a dream, or a nightmare– she couldn’t decide, but it seemed like all she could do now was wait for time to come to her.

Not like it helped the situation, knowing that a responsibility she didn’t understand hung on her shoulders an unknown number of days, weeks or months away. It was all so ambigue and uncertain it left Uraraka wondering if she should believe all this woman was saying, but decided to stick to it as a burning pole, blistering her skin and bruising her but serving as a flashlight in the darkness.

“I… see. Then, they are important, huh?” the oracle nodded, and Uraraka tried to wrap her mind around this fact, because they were nothing but a hassle that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her life. They weren’t really making that of an impact on her yet: just a little girl, a village, then another. What did she of all people have to do with that? “I still can’t see the relation between them… but I guess they will come in time, right?”

The oracle was too busy to actually listen to Uraraka, but she nodded anyway. Her hands fetched for a little flask under the table. She made the transparent liquid dance a little inside the doe-shaped recipient to test its volume, then handed it to the girl with… haste? Her hands had trembled when Uraraka had brushed them, and the oracle had been quick to wave her off. “Now, if you truly desire to erase those dreams from your mind, you must leave and drink that potion.”

The girl got up with newfound excitement, eyeing the colorless fluid in the flask. It was as like creamy water on a legendary bottle, and it felt so exciting to both have such recipient and the possibility to get rid of those nasty dreams. If there ever came a point that she needed to choose in an important matter, all she needed to do was listen to her heart. There was nothing her heart didn’t know, right?

“Thank you very much, miss!” she vowed gently as she always did, a smile dancing on her now energetic step. “I hope we can meet someday!”

Before Uraraka could head out the curtains, the oracle offered her the fateful cards. “Take them, so you can remember this time. Save them as reference, they may save your life one day.”

The sorcerer blinked at the weird request, and didn’t miss the shiver on the stoic woman’s arm. She leaped to the table again and took both cards under the fire of blue, quiet lights, purple fabric covering them as a quiet deal was stuck. “I will take them then, if you may.”

The brunette put them inside one of her uniform’s pockets and waved at the oracle again, smiling brilliantly now that her problems seemed to be stepping down from their stages, little by little. Her mind was a pure clean slate of purity, no spikes or cracks of imperfection clouding her mind aside from the invisible floating loom of responsibility, but she would put it aside for now.

“Thanks, miss! I hope we will cross paths again!”

Uraraka saw the oracle wave at her from behind, and she pushed the curtain aside and stepped out, stopping once she was outside to look at the recipient and uncork it. Her feet were visible from inside the tent.

“I will take this now then, before going to sleep.” her head turned to look at the fair at the center of the village, which was starting to swarm with people. She shook her head with a smile of contentment, but inwardly disappointed at having missed the fair when it was mildly tolerable. There were too much people around for her, so she just decided to call it a day, finally, and looked down at the recipient, which gleamed to a torch’s fire.

Uraraka giddily brought the liquid to her lips, feeling the cold potion fall down her throat slowly, making its way to–

The second one drop made its way into her stomach, her whole body quivered and started stinging, shaking uncontrollably as an insufferable pain shot out from her head to all parts of her body, hurt and acid scratching her mind with fire claws, drawing blood from her brain and making it fall down her nose as Uraraka stumbled, and gripped one of the poles of the tent for support.

Her eyes filled with tears as her vision blurred and blood pooled on her arms. Within a blink and a pained, moaned cough, Uraraka’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground as blood still flowed out of her and started staining her cheeks and hairs. Her eyes were open, seeing the building where she slept so in her reach yet, as she outstretched her hands and tried to crawl back to the beaten track, her strength faltered and she gave up the fight.

Her eyes closed, and her body stayed limp in front of the tent for two seconds before the oracle came out of her little place. She shook her head at the being laying on her doorstep and squatted down to her side.

She rummaged through her pockets to find one of the cards she had given her, and stared at it before looking at the people of the village, too far away to notice the crime. The oracle took the card and stood up again, giving Uraraka’s motionless body a kick. It wouldn’t take much time before somebody found the body.

The flailed the card a little bit and frowned at the unconscious girl. “Destruction girl,” she spat right by her. “disaster sorcerer.”

A few minutes later, the tent was out of sight, as was the tarot card with the image of the Hierophant, burnt to ashes in front of Uraraka’s right hand.

“Lie her on the bed, now!”

Todoroki and Mina quickly laid the little unconscious girl on the bed as the others ran to the threshold, where Midoriya tried to keep them at bay. When Jack was denied the entrance, she frowned at the leader and banged the door frame with her trembling fist. “What the hell, let us in! What’s wrong with her?”

The knight sighed and trembled, stood and gulped to keep himself in check against the agitated crowd of people. Only a few members had been admitted into the room so Asui’s work wouldn’t be haltered, and it seemed like it would take them a little bit more than words to actually understand that. “We… don’t know. Mina came across her body a few minutes ago and we haven’t given Asui enough time to check her conditions. Please, go to bed and we will sort this out overnight.”

“Midoriya, you can’t be serious!” the leader looked at Iida patronizingly. As time moved forward and people started to jam-pack the corridors, the boy grew more and more irritated– and it was such a rare thing to see in the leader, a flash of vexation at the unfair situations.

Nobody knew what had happened, really. When Mina had seen a body laying on the now empty area, her first initiative had been to try and shake the body awake, thinking that it could be a drunk little girl taking a reckless nap– but then the hair, the smell of her skin and the color of her gloves, it all dawned on her, and she had let out a horrifyingly terrified shriek that had called Todoroki and Kirishima over, and they hastily carried the decaying corpse to the nearest room.

She could be dead for all they knew, and a chill ran down everybody’s spines when the possibility came into mind. Her body was so light, her gasps for air so sharp and frantic, and her hands would tremble now and then, and the loll of her head into a tragic angle of uncertainty that had everyone at the edge of their seats. The critical situation had left everyone in a state of loss and worry that was only going on crescendo as Midoriya blocked the door.

“Only us few will remain as to not collapse the infirmary, but we are sure it’s nothing severe.” and yes, this was a big fat lie, as nobody could really go that far and confirm such madness so soon. He heard busy chatter around him, which prompted the boy to grasp the knob to close the door. “We will inform you all of the situation next morning. For now, rest assured we will do as much as possible to sort this out.”

With that, everyone dropped their shoulders and Midoriya took that as his cue to close the door, and he lay on it with a bead of sweat running down his temple. Who had told him to go and confront the crowd had no idea of how nervous the boy grew with these situations.

“You look troubled, Midoriya.” commented Todoroki, sitting on a chair right next to Uraraka. One of his hands rested on the mattress, close to Uraraka’s in case she had a crisis. Asui sorted the potions with hurry behind him. “Do you think they will manage to rest with this situation in their hands?”

“The thing is, it’s not something they can meddle with now.” Kirishima helped Asui with the arrangements, searching for something the girl had requested as he spoke. “It depends on Asui to identify what the fuck happened to our little lady.”

Asui, for the first time in years, actually frowned at the redhead and took a little syringe from her bag. “Ribbit, don’t put more responsibility on my shoulders than what I have already.” she strode to her body and, after a few little touches on her forehead and checking her eyes from underneath her lashes, she took one of her hands. “She has a cut here.”

Mina checked on the torn skin with curious eyes, as did Midoriya who was next to her. “What a weird place to have a cut. It’s so…”

“Precise.” intervened the leader with a growl. “Could somebody have used her own blood against her?”

Asui was already extracting some blood from Uraraka’s forearm – all thanks to Todoroki who rolled up her sleeve – critically fast. Just as the crimson liquid started to flood the syringe, the girl frowned again. “No, the wound is not the issue here, nor is her own blood.”

Asui hurried to her table on a side of the room, and arranged a little bent paper on a disk. The girl pushed on the syringe and, as the first droplet fell, she knew something was wrong. The liquid climbed fast through the filter paper, to the point in which there was no blood remaining on the disk, it had all gone through the paper. The sorcerer gave it a little shake, nibbled on the wet edges, and threw it to the disk again.

“Hot blood.” announced Asui hastily, pressing her hands to Uraraka’s pulse. It was slow, but throbbed against the girl’s sensitive skin. “Her heart is having problems carrying it around her system, it’s thickening.”

Mina, having been around her lessons with Kirishima, was quick to identify the source of this problem. “Poison.”

The mutant nodded. “And whoever who poisoned her wanted her dead on the spot.” she coaxed the brunette’s mouth open gripping her jaw, and passed a gloved finger along her tongue. There was something slimy glued to it, cold. Asui had a faint clue of what this could be, but she wouldn’t be sure of what poison it was until she tested the substance.

The water sorcerer dipped her glove on a disk with water and saw the disk be infested with bubbles and oh, that very familiar purple hue. “A nitoria posion. Brash enough for a murderer.”

“You are joking, right?” Mina stepped to the table and gasped when the disk started melting on the edges. “Please, don’t tell me–!”

A loud moan of pain was heard across the room which had everyone getting up from their seats and chairs falling, as Uraraka’s body arched off the bed and her chest started panting with hurtful intakes of toxic air, her head trashing on the pillow while her head darted from side to side. Her brows were drawn to a painful knitted grimace.

Bakugou, who stood looking out the window, craned his head to look at the ruckus, and frowned wordlessly.

Asui, however, seemed by far less alarmed than her crew. “Nitoria poisons have antidotes, and as this was made to be apparently healthy and hard to notice, its effects are dimmed by the quantity of additives in it.” nobody understood a word of what she said excepting antidote and healthy, and their faces were mirrors of this fact. “I can cure her, no worries. In the meantime, restrain her from making too harsh movements. Convulsions are fairly normal at this stage of the intoxication.”

As easy as that, everyone but Bakugou cooperated on the operation, gripping her arms and legs to the bed no matter how much she trashed or crumbled under their steel grasp. The pharmacist was rushed by the alarmingly loud gasps of Uraraka, how her peers were struggling to hold her tight no matter how hard they bit on their lips, or how they muttered words of encouragement under Uraraka’s piercing little screams of pain– all under her unconscious, yet seemingly only slumber state.

“She’s regaining consciousness, Asui!” warned Mina, her irises starting to move too much in their sockets as something started racketing in that jumping mind of hers. “We need to find an antidote before she wakes up! The nitoria–“

“Yes, yes, I know!” exclaimed the other stressfully. If Uraraka reached consciousness before the poison was diluted in her bloodstream, it would devastate her mind beyond humankind’s imagination– additives as boosters for side effects, decreasing the degree of lethality yet reaching and branching through the sorcerer’s darkest corners of her mind. “I just need a second!”

Asui was sweating bullets by now, her hands trembling in the middle of the night to find a cure for this madness. Her fingers deftly worked through samples, substance that could render the poison useless in minimum time. She stroked fruits, mashed leaves with the help of Kirishima’s hardened fists. The convulsions on the dying body were fading away little by little, making the straining easier while Bakugou only listened and fisted his hands, stroking the fabric of his pants to bite in swears of stress.

Once the yellowish substance on Asui’s flask stopped bubbling, the girl let out a little squeal of hurry and charged the syringe with the cure. “Got it, ribbit!” she wasted no second on carrying her feet as fast as possible to the bed, swatting hands away to roll the sorcerer’s sleeves up and plump in the needle.

As the liquid entered Uraraka’s bloodstream, the convulsions died to only minor shudders and eventual twitches, which also disappeared within seconds and only left a sleeping, tired girl at its wake. Her hands limped, fingers heaving down, and her breath grew sturdy and regular under everyone’s pendant eyes. These very relieved members fell on the nearest source of support they could find.

Kirishima decided to limp on the floor and start chuckling to himself in success, and then laughed under his breath as heat flared on his face, heated from the rush of danger. He watched Asui crawl on the edge of Uraraka’s bed, right next to a sitting Todoroki. “You are a pure legend, Asui!”

As the herbalist tried her best to push her pulsations to a normal beat, breath heaving in and out of her lungs. The dual knight gave her shoulder a proud shake, the feeling evident on his smile as the herbalist nodded back, smiling in sheer happiness and relief. “Well done, Asui.”

“My god! That was a nerve-wrecking operation.” the pink archer eyed Uraraka, exhausted, and hoisted her whole weight on Midoriya’s back. “Will she be alright now?”

Still breathing heavily, trying to ride off the hurry and letting the strings of time go back to their place, she placed a hand on Uraraka’s moist forehead. “She may get a mild fever as her body tries to digest the poison, but other than that, she will survive.”

Everyone in the room let out a general breath of final allevation, giddy smiles directed at the tired doctor who only tried to recover from the rush. As a tranquil pace of united heartbeats and collective silence floated on the thinning air of midnight, a little question remained in between them.

“I’d suggest somebody keeps guard on our sick lady here.” Kirishima placed a hand on the girl’s forehead, and brushed off the sweat on his pants. “She’s soaked in sweat, and will probably need some aid if she wakes up.”

Midoriya’s first option to offer was Asui– of course, it was always her. The herbalist had always been a dependable person when days grew grim, when situations like these were critic and someone was needed to take the wheel other than the very able leaders, who were at a loss of what to do. This was a new member they were talking about– an important one at that. Having her fall under a illness and be left unattended would probably make this situation drag for longer than necessary. And that, right now, was a hazard where one could see it.

“I am not going to offer Asui for the job, and I hope no one dares to– because she is further than exhausted.” which was a point everyone agreed on. She had had to look after Kaminari, Uraraka and Bakugou in the same day, one of them actually twice, and rest off the exhaustion from the fight against Midnight. “And I know all of us are exhausted, but I–“

“I will take care of it.”

The small voice came from the window, where a very tense Bakugou stood and, when he felt all eyes on his ample back, he turned with a grimace on his jaw, teeth clenched.

“What the fuck’re you all gawking at?”

“You wanna…” his hands pointed at Uraraka, to which the fierce leader nodded softly, getting the point in the angriest version of a bashful pout. “take care of her?”

Asui and Midoriya blinked at the blonde, who was looking at a side of the room with his usual wall of unaffected emotions, controlled feelings and cautioned actions, all his blinks and heartbeats measured to a minimum so

they wouldn’t betray his true thoughts. He then glared at everyone in the room, including the panting corpse on the bed– actually, he practically glowered at her, because he always found himself either depending from her porcelain hands or saving her ass, and he despised that cycle.

He was more than bothered with this situation of owing something to her when he actually felt like he didn’t, so he needed to get it over with.

He felt Asui’s softened eyes on him, and then his eyes trailed to the other leader. “I owe this to her.”

“What do you–“

“She has been looking after me after the fight with that fucking necromancer, and I never had to tell her even twice to care the slightest bit about me. If anything, I gave her reasons to hate my guts.”

Bakugou strode to the center of the room and kicked a stool into place, slamming his ass on the wooden seat right before Uraraka. Kirishima smiled at his best friend with a gentle spark of pride in his eyes, seeing the brash boy he knew start tearing the walls of his grudges down little by little, and trying to show that he could be kind when the situation forced him to. And even when it wasn’t really that way.

“She’s strong for putting up with me and saving my life, more than once.” commented the blonde, staring at the girl’s closed lids absent-mindedly. “And this is my way of thanking her.”

Asui propped her head up to gape at the once stubborn, pain in the ass leader and only saw a close to caring leader, and it caused her to smile a little at him in the darkness of the room.        

“Little Nameless, this is something you must do for us.” assured a pink man by her. He didn’t squat – anymore, noted the little girl, as she had grown and she didn’t need those petty things anymore. They stood on the back of a room where a light breeze flew, sometimes toying with her cut strands. Light streamed down on her, sounds of people on their thrones waiting for her.

Chains sounded as well from within the tumult, which snapped her back into reality. “But papa, I don’t know that man!”

“Which is a miracle itself, considering what that man has done to our village with his knives and words.”

Shadows, shadows, creeping around the edges of her starlit eyes, galaxies dying on her heartstrung broken irises. Out of the edge of her mind, she was screaming to set these things back into rightness, but all she could do in such virginal state of ignorance was scream at the void like a fool, and feel something cracking at her fingertips. The whole world was swirling around her like a thunderwave, all spinning as voices mixed and chains clashed.

She was… so, so helpless. “Dad, why would you want me of all people to execute this order?”

The pink man did squat this time– probably to make her feel higher in the power scale, so she would feel mighty and confident enough to actually carry out this scarring task. “You are the only one who can do this, Nameless.” and she had heard this one time and another, plenty of times already. It was such a tiring charade. “You know this.”

“I…” she didn’t. “do.”

Because this power she had, it was all but normal. She herself was abnormal, kept as a treasure in her civilization but looked at as a monster from time to time, when the sun peaked in a corner of the sacred minds. Some would scream when her hands dig too deep into nature’s butter– others, they would let her be.

This time, they would not let her be, but encourage her to release the monster from the cage. “Then, go out there and face the court. You can do it, hon.”

The girl was given a little push, then taken steadily to the big room that was the court. The walls were crowded with staged seats, rampaging people pointing at the wonder girl as a man on the center of the room, staying on an ivory stage and tied with chains to a pole– he was screaming at a muffler on his mouth, then spitting on her from his silenced hell.

Her father stood near to her as the girl bunched the fabric on her shirt, nervousness crawling around her like the nasty monster she was. Words spiraled around her, something about her carrying out the right choice. Odd dots of pale colors– human colors, they splashed the room in bright diversity, yet she feared what this would do to the fragile bond between the races.

Her father tapped her shoulder, reality blurring around her as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. This was like a band-aid, she knew, it was only a matter of tugging it off with enough force so it would hurt quick and short. Her hands were trembling when she rose her stretched fingers to the stranger, who screamed at her in pure agony.

“An…” Nameless panted, choked in disgust at what she was going to do, and withdrew her hand from the torture procedure. But, as sense of pride and duty flooded over her, she was able to call out the spell. Echo boomed from behind her, knocking some hats off their owners as she whispered the dreaded word. “Anihilation.”

Nameless twisted her hand with a pained grimace as the man twisted to her desire, his blood accordingly boiling and piercing his burning flesh as the humans on the room screeched at the display, hugging their families for dear life and hurrying out of the room along with some other people from her species, the smell of rotten skin and broken bones overwhelming her to a extent that the brunette gave into her knees, and fell to the ground in exhaustion.

“Good girl, Nameless…” he gripped her shoulder a bit stronger, her father, and ruffled her hair. She coughed a smile, nodding emotionlessly. “Good job.”

A blond, red-eyed boy watched from afar, eyes wide in terror as he stared at the broken girl with a shudder.

“Bakugou, Kacchan.”

The blonde leader snapped his head up with the gentle sound of Midoriya’s calling. He groaned in frustration as his head lolled back, and he let himself look a little bit vulnerable by scrubbing his eyes awake. He still played it off as if he hadn’t been dozing off. “What the hell, you scared the shit outta me.”

Midoriya, with an arm tucked around a big volume and a bashful smile on full display, rubbed his shoulder for some comfort and sat on the girl’s bed. “She’s still sleeping, huh?”

The green-haired knight removed an stray lock of hair off her reddened cheeks, his touch barely stronger than a caress. A small grow reverberated from deep within his chest. “Little witch here has been trashing around a little bit. She’s calmed down for now.”

“Well, if she’s getting better, that’s all that counts.” the boy realized the cloth around Uraraka’s forehead had been dampened, and Midoriya knew for a fact that nobody had come to switch guards yet that night. He smiled knowingly. “It’s good to see she’s in good hands.”

The knight gingerly took the cloth to cool if off, all while Bakugou stared at the girl’s closed eyes with a piercing glare of anger and frustration. “Better have her getting better soon so we can part, rather than me biting my own tail and being a dick to her. I am more responsible than that, bastard.”

Despite the insult, Midoriya chuckled from Asui’s medical table. The sloshing of the water was all that could be heard in the building, so late in the night. “Yeah, I know.” he turned his head a bit to watch Bakugou’s hunched position, and if he had to bet, he’d say he hadn’t gotten up from that chair ever since the last change. “Who was the last person who came to watch Uraraka?”

“Alien girl.” spat Bakugou, shifting on the chair to adopt a confident position: crossed arms, crossed legs, and his glare switching to the other leader. “And you ain’t gonna take the turn yet.”

“Shouldn’t you get up for a while and, I don’t know, sleep? If you don’t rest, you’ll miss the festivities tomorrow.” the hunter mentally swatted him away quickly, chuckling in denial while his bones ached for mercy. He was biting the insides of his cheeks for some comfort– the chair was uncomfortable, the situation worse and his body totally messed up. He hadn’t felt this mentally exhausted for a while. “Why take this business so far, Kacchan?”

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that again, loser.” moonlight filtered through the half closed curtains, bathing Bakugou in this light that was so enticingly perfect to fall asleep on the arms of the sick girl. He couldn’t lie: at the stage he was in, he could have fallen asleep on the mattress where she laid and not even think about later regrets. “I am her leader. And I owe this to her personally. I don’t really think none of you will take this serious other than me.”

“C’mon, that’s a blatant lie.”

Bakugou’s eyes burnt even brighter than before, his fangs gleaming. He would have gotten up if his legs were responsive enough– but they weren’t, and it was driving him up the fucking wall. This shitty girl was always troubling his daily life and he didn’t want to feel compromised with her, above all not in this way. He didn’t owe her anything, he had no reason to be there other than sheer responsibility.

“Don’t bark at me, it’s true.” Midoriya sighed, and turned to the leader to walk to them afterwards, his hands leaving the cloth on her forehead slowly. He stroked the blue fabric onto her forehead, eliciting a little groan from her. “You have never taken matters this far when it comes to any regular member, other than Kirishima.”

“She ain’t a regular member. Not in any way.”

“Not like you are trying to see her in any other way, Bakugou.”

This made the leader make an effort to stand up and go pound the living lights out of that nerd, but his knees buckled and he had to sit down again under Midoriya’s concerned gaze.

“I know what you are insinuating, and what everybody’s probably thinking, but I don’t give a fuck about her.” he forced his eyes on her, traced the curve of her little nose, and sighed grumpily. “Seriously, I don’t. But she has gone out of her way several times to actually care about me when I didn’t ask. I have said this before: I am thanking her for that.”

“But you still feel like you shouldn’t, right?” Bakugou glared at his peer from under his disarrayed spikes, night shadows crossing behind his eyes. It was silent warning. “Your voice is so strained, your back is probably aching. You don’t want to go through this, yet you are.”

The blonde allowed himself a sigh of tiredness, and blinked at him in unusual tranquility. Being so drained was doing unmerciful things on his mood, and it seems like Midoriya would take advantage of that until he snapped back into his aggressive old self. “I loathe feeling in debt for this bitch, because I shouldn’t. No one gave her the right to care about me, or put herself in danger. Now, I have to thank her, as a leader, and get her ass out of this trouble.”

“Is it really that? Just plain justice and the sake of being a leader?”

“Why am I talking about this with you of all people?”

“Because she has been like this for a whole day– more like two considering we are here past midnight.” his eyes found kindness in Uraraka’s relaxed figure, finally idle and breathing without coughs or heavy sweat. “You have tried to kill her, you have dismissed her– but you are here, Kac– Bakugou, watching after her. What changed from being a dick to her to now actively want to see her healthy?”

“For starters, my opinion about her remains unchanged at the root.” he was tired, he was letting Midoriya tug at the thread that got his thoughts stuck in a vicious cycle of autodestruction and doubt– but for a reason, he didn’t feel bad about it. Not a single bit. “I still think she is a threat, but it’s true she hasn’t moved against our currents yet, other than be stupid and overwork herself. Other than that, she can work in our favor, and even I can see that now.”

“So, you care about–“

“No.” snapped the blonde, red suns spiraling and changing under the pressure of this crashing tide. “I don’t think I can actively care about someone to this personal level. She benefits our guild, her being in good shape is good for the showdown against RampAge, and I owe to her. That’s all there is to it.”

“I still think you owe her much more than this, and that’s only for putting up with your remarks and stupidity when you feel like bullying her.” Midoriya would have been backed to a wall after such insult, but Bakugou was being silent, observing the girl with a clashing mixture of hatred and frustration. He was only listening to his companion unfocusedly, as he let all his petty feelings slowly sink in. “She has done nothing else but put up with your foul mood and actually fight you back. Really, she must be tired from resisting the urge to slap you on the face.”

“I don’t owe her any fucking thing in that regard.” snapped Bakugou, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “All she does is put me into trouble and try to be nice to me– I never asked for all that. She is attempting to–“

Midoriya bit on his knuckles as he stifled in a good earful on respect and kindness, something the leader could lack very often. “Stop seeing her kindness as a freaking attack, Kacchan. She just wants to be in this guild and be on good terms with you.”

“Stop it, it ain’t worth it to scream at me over this. Asui already has, in her way, and I am working on it. I am here, withstanding this hell so I don’t owe to her. I don’t owe her anything– I should never owe anything to a damn pest like her.” argued Bakugou, encasing himself in this bubble of hard ideals and a truth he couldn’t come to terms with, but it was there, in his hands. “I don’t wanna feel lied to anymore, I am working to fix this for the guild’s welfare.”

The anger in Midoriya’s eyes faded to a pale hue of surprise. “So, you want to try to trust her?”

Bakugou waited for a bit, rethinking his decisions with sharp eyes. Still, he had gone over it so many times already that the charade was getting tiring, and it was more worth it to actually try to be nice to her than find a reason to hate her after all she has done. She made his life so hard, sometimes.

He clutched the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart, where it ached worst. “I want to just get rid of this disgusting feeling of having to thank her for something I didn’t ask for. I wanna stop feeling this stupid, I shouldn’t even be here. She is a goddamn silly bitch who knows nothing else but trouble.”

The other boy blinked several times, staring at Bakugou’s tired shoulders and how his eyes would flicker ever so often at the girl in decreasing loathe, and more directed to worry for her wellbeing as a guild member he had acknowledged, someone he was starting to value as worth keeping. His hands could crawl their way out of his bruised heart, shadows casted on his lonely soul, but the rampage of thought and tranquility this girl had inflicted on him could be denied, but no longer ignored.

Midoriya could now understand why Uraraka shone so much. She was giving everyone an opportunity in the same one everyone was doing with her– and she never had a reason, either. She was embracing everyone’s threats, everyone’s glares, everyone’s doubts, and walking her way out of them with a loud parade. For that, he deserved the kind leader’s admiration, so a little smile was directed at her.

“I will taking my leave then, Kacchan. However,” he left the volume from before on her nightstand, gave it a pat of reassurance as he knew Uraraka would love seeing possibilities and barriers grow, and retreated to the door. His eyes shifted to the leaning leader, whose eyes were droopy and weaker than usual, but still held that passionate gaze into the devil’s eyes. It was so charming to see those fires dim for once, prompting these words. “you should know that she isn’t causing any trouble to you. She is the one willingly putting herself on danger’s way, receiving the throws, and getting into problems. That… shouldn’t affect you this much, Kacchan.”

And with that, Midoriya chuckled at Bakugou’s dumbstruck expression of ire and tiny realization, closing the door behind him while the other crashed his head on the mattress, right beside Uraraka’s twitching hand– because he was right, in a way, and it only dawned on him that his little slip may have made him look more sick and foolish than he already was.

He groaned into the blankets. “Fuuuuck.”

But he didn’t care. Not even a pinch.

“Nameless, there’s somebody I want you to meet!”

The brunette girl turned from the well, more like kicked a bit so she wouldn’t fall inside and then turned at Kirishima’s voice calling after her. His step was quick, his red falling spikes bouncing in his stride while a blur of blonde hairs and pale skin also neared her. It took her a little bit to recognize that face– that face, sharp at the edges and bland in anger at the center, drawn in red and all suddenly made sense.

“You…” the blonde boy stopped and gulped after her voice chirped in, but frowned regardless. “You are the golden boy from the river! What are you doing here?”

Kirishima slapped a hand on his shoulder and grinned again, showing her his shining pearly whites before the other boy slapped the hand away as soon as it touched him. “He jumped across the river and asked me to take him to the girl with magic hands!” the fact that he knew such fact about her had her gulping this time around. “So here we are!”

The girl with muddy eyes took a step back, taking her bucket of water to her chest. Once upon a time, she would have needed help to reach the well’s edge, but it had been so long since then. Her reflection shone on the water. “How… how do you know about my abilities?”

“My people gave me a description of someone they are looking for, from their nation, who was lost a long time ago. She was a… magician, as well.” explained the blonde boy, fixated on how her hands trembled around the bucket. “So I can recognize a magician when I see one. This.. town can do that, right? Magic, I mean.”

The redhead nodded hastily, and put his fists on his hips with pride. “Our race has vast knowledge about sorcery, right, Nameless?” she nodded curtly, eyeing her hands shortly. “That’s what differentiates us from you humans, we can do lots of stuff!”

While Kirishima boasted about the abilities of their race – a race they bitterly didn’t seem to belong to, at least physically speaking – the blonde newcomer took a step forward until he made the girl flinch, and outstretched a hand towards her without actually looking into her blown wide eyes.

“I saw you at the court a few days ago… and I knew I had seen your stupid face, a few months ago.” that made her stifle in a gasp of horror, as she had never wanted to be seen as such monster– but seeing how he was fighting back an excited grin, corners twitching, he was more than fine with her powers. “What’s your name?”

The girl left the bucket of water on the ground, and curled her fingers around her jersey for internal decision. The boy was… giving her his hand? Did he want her to take it or something? She was around twelve years old now, but she hadn’t been educated into these things. However, she remembered that her pink dad had done that stupid gesture sometimes, and she decided to give it a little shake.

“I don’t have a name. And if I do, I don’t remember it. I was born without it apparently, and never given one.” despite the inner tragedy and later irony of the situation, she smiled at him sweetly, eyes closed in bliss for making a new friend. “I go by Nameless. And he is Kirishima. My sister, Mina, is not around now, but she should make an appearance now. She has the regular looks for our species.”

The golden boy glanced around and was proven right about that. Everyone had pink skin, lighter hair, spotless black eyes with a golden ring, and high-pitched voices. Some of them had big claws on their hands, others didn’t. Looking at Nameless and Kirishima, it really looked like they were making leaps and twirls about developing camouflage strategies, as they could be mistaken by someone from his species without a doubt.

If he hadn’t seen her come from across the river, he would have thought she was a human, too.

“The name’s Katsuki.” replied the boy, grumpy as she gave his hand a shake. He reciprocated the gesture. “Please don’t blow me up.”

It took her a while, but she actually understood the little joke and giggled, her little fit then erupting into gross loud laughter. It had been a while since she did that.

It would as well be the last time, rain falling harder that day as blood bathed her knees, a figure looming above her and–

Uraraka’s back bounced off the bed with the start of a heart attack jumping from behind at her, claws sprouting from her brain and giving it another hard, lovingly scratch of welling tears that never fell, tension that never broke and images that never made sense, feelings and people that shouldn’t be there and, however, she felt heartless and boneless whenever she woke up.

The aftermath of these dreams, nightmares and all kinds of havoc left her scarred a little bit more violent the more time that passed– her breaths would grow more staggering, her hands would clutch her heart stronger and her eyes would dart more dizzily around the room. While the effects and emotions from the experience would wear off fast, faces and ideas sure didn’t.

The fact that she couldn’t see the face of that little girl monster clearly was so confusing as well for her, because she was probably the most important piece of the story. An innocent girl with a pure soul, yet terrifying sorcery used for ill intentions. Was this supposed to be a metaphor about her?

Also… why had, of all people, he been there with–

She heard heavy breathing near her, and when she was able to focus her sight on her surroundings, a mane of pale hair came into view, sleeping right by her stretched legs. His muscles, tense and tight, hair unkempt and light snoring vibrating in his ribcage. Her eyes almost fell out of their sockets when she realized who this was, thinking about pinching herself to wake up from this vision.

What was Bakugou… doing there? He was sitting on a chair, yet his whole body was leaning on the bed as his head rested nestled on his strong arms, probably already given up on her waking up. How long had he been there? And again, why was he, of all people, there with her? The first thing she thought was that he was probably taking advantage of his sleeping problems to take the night shift and watch her, but why would he accept taking it in the first place?

Her hand hesitated, hovered above his head until they took the monumental step of touching his hair– touching him, in a sense, and threaded his messy locks into place with a placid smile of tranquility. Her other hand wiped some sweat off her forehead as the moon gloriously washed over the dark room. While her fingers played with his hair and he slept calmly near her, brown eyes glanced out the window shortly.

There was ruckus outside – she thought, eyes aimlessly trying to see further from the bed – and she wanted to see more of it.

As to not wake her sleeping vigilant, Uraraka slowly shifted on the bed and placed her feet on the cold floor. Her toes relished at the feeling of the flashy temperature, because her body was overwhelmingly hot and she couldn’t wait to get a change of clothes. She didn’t even dare sniffing herself, she would sure be raking sweat.

As the sorcerer walked around the bed and brushed past Bakugou, she giggled a little to herself, but then concerned her eyes on the slumbering boy. Again, what business did he have with her? Why would he even bother come to check on her? It was sad to know somebody didn’t entertain your presence even while being on civil terms, and it irked her to think this way. Still, she had done enough already to make nice with him, the ball was on his court now.

Uraraka’s body was engulfed by the moonlight. Bells of consciousness rung the numbness to go away, and she was suddenly blinking openly to the moonlight that loomed over the big window of her room. The night stars were shy and sneaky compared to this big cheese, twinkling timidly as part-time companions of the white angel. A sweet feeling of a breeze escalating up her spine made her skin tingle in delight as some music blared from outside, fires going off as shows and fights occurred as part of the nighttime fair.

And Bakugou missed it… to watch after her? Her head craned a little to eye his sleeping form, frown knit in confusion. He disliked her – concluded Uraraka, looking at the moon and fair once again – he must have been pressured to stay.

It was then when Uraraka remembered what had gone down with the oracle, when she spotted the vacant space at the corner of the fair– she wanted to slap herself for being so naïve, illusional, for letting a stranger so shady like that woman trick her. She had been as foolish as to even tell her about her secrets, those hideous dreams and nightmares, when Todoroki had clearly advised her to be careful.

She cradled her face on her hands and rubbed, then rubbed some more. The feeling of weight on her pockets reminded her of the cards and the misty bottle, for which she rummaged. Her fingers came in contact with one of the cards, yet as much as she fiddled around, the other card was long lost. As she took the card of the Hanged Man out, to the moonlight’s shade, something strung wrong in her heart.

“Why this one… where is the other one?” she palmed her other pocket, and only felt the shape of the bottle, yet no other card was found. The hand holding the card trembled. “What in the world…”

“What are you doing up?”

Her hand hurried in a messy blur to keep the card inside her pockets, spinning to see Bakugou groggily making his way to her. Uraraka made quick work to hold the shield up and cross her arms, starting her usual defensive pose of unaffection towards the leader. Still, there was no hostility in her eyes, or in his for that matter. “I woke up and heard the music from the festival.”

“Then go to bed again, you still need the fucking rest.” grunted the leader, scrubbing his eyes again to wake up. “We gotta part soon and you aren’t helping.”

But the strained edge in his voice and the dryness of his throat gave one too many things away. “You aren’t in the best of shapes either, master.” mocked she with an arched eyebrow. At this, he growled with a sideways glare. Uraraka didn’t know why he got so angry at her for releasing the feelings he stirred on her– feelings of protection, shielding, holding her ground against this beast. “You can take the bed, I am not going to–“

Her legs unexpectedly gave up under her, but she swiftly grabbed for the frame of the window to hold her. Bakugou’s hands had flinched for this, and he had no fucking idea why when he had known she could take care of herself. Being tired had never been so infuriatingly difficult before. “You are going to sleep. If you don’t fucking take care of yourself there is no use in taking you with us.”

“I am another warrior from this guild, Bakugou.” attacked Uraraka with a frown of her own, facing him directly. “Why am I being scolded over doing an effort–“

“This ain’t a damn effort, it’s no more than a strain in your development.” he crossed his arms, his eyes glimmering beneath the moon’s cradle. His jaw was clenched, chin up, and he suddenly looked like he was going to say something, then kept it in for a little more. He shook his head. “You are constantly doing things that aren’t needed, and we– I don’t want none of it.”

The blonde had made it sound personal in a second and it worried her– so much that she actually asked.

“Is there… anything I may have done to upset you, Bakugou?”

A low growl scraped his throat and constricted his vocal strings painfully, his fists tight as he spoke ever so clearly and demanding, scary and resolute. “I don’t want anything from you, got it? I don’t need your protection, your business with being kind and the like– I don’t need it.”

The girl flinched under his sudden glower, but recovered from the blow hell fast. “What’s wrong with me taking care of you or actually looking after your protection?”

Uraraka asked it so patiently and kindly that his heart plummeted and left a soaring trace of hurt pride behind– and something dangerous, atrocity and violence, it all came in full force to his eyes as he turned to look at her, stepping close to her in a second. She shot up a little as well, their glares sparking bolts and daggers to each other while Bakugou jabbed her shoulder accusingly and she slapped his hands away from her.

She should have known that her kindness would backfire, and stepped back from it when she still had time, back at the campfire. But she had given in to her generalized personality and now this happened.

“I don’t wanna owe anything to you, got it? I don’t give a fuck about you, I don’t need you in my life, your magic or your goddamn glitter that chases me everywhere I go.” barked he, not observing how her posture suddenly softened and her eyes widened the tiniest way. Since only a few inches separated them, he really should have. “I don’t owe you anything– I have watched over your sick ass for more than enough, I have changed your cloth and haven’t complained! This is my way of saying thank you from before and–“

“You sure can mumble and mumble like Midoriya when you are riddled, Bakugou.” commented she with this shocked face he detested on her because she knew better– she always knew better and he was suddenly feeling lied to again when he didn’t want it.

“That’s not the damn point!” yelled he. His hands mindlessly searched for his sword on his waist. “Just stop being like this. Stop giving me unwanted attention, stop trying to protect me, I don’t need it.” Bakugou took a deep breath to calm himself down, too quick to anger when he was this tired, and sighed with exasperation. “I don’t want it.”

When she didn’t strike him with a quick comeback the very same moment he shut up and stopped spluttering so much bullshit, he dared to look at her. Those bubbling eyes of hers somehow remained unchanged, looking at him as if he hadn’t said anything, her skin still sweaty and her smell still gross– he loathed that about her. No matter how much shit he tried to throw at her to keep her away, she was resilient and either fought back or ignored the attack.

He needed her to stay away. He didn’t need her in his life, he didn’t need a terrorist in his life to taunt his sanity. Uraraka was stupid, careless, naïve, sarcastic and too sassy to his liking. And yet, she was there. And he didn’t want it.

After a little silence, she spoke up again. “Such a shame, Bakugou, that you feel this way.” he thought she would finally give in and leave him alone. “I sadly won’t let up, though.”

But she didn’t. When he focused on her again, her irises were shining under the moon’s gleam and her skin was clean, yet damp and ferverish. She herself was a damn illness he would never recover from, a maniac with the hands of a fairy that was supposed to be proving his inner fears rights and destroying the world– not there, alone with him and sticking to his thorny side.

The brunette stung his pride with a little smile of hers, that shaky one that held no emotion other than mockery for him. “Why can’t you understand? I know you don’t really give a damn about me– and not gonna lie, it sucks that the feeling is unilateral.” hell yes, she at least got that right. “Still, you are another of my peers, and I will watch after your protection. No matter how much you push me away…”

Her head turned to his, eyes closed in tranquility and spoke as this was a universal statement. He was speechless for the first time in his life, words stuck as moonlight bathed her. “… I will care about you, dumbass. Even if you want me not to. You gave me a place to belong, and for that, I will always be kind to you all. Even if you don’t deserve my kindness, I still owe it to you.”

The echo of her words oozed into his bloodstream– but it didn’t make his skin boil, his heart hammer with anger or anxiety for this situation. Instead, his whole body stood there, calmly, as her words sunk in deeper and deeper than a mermaid lost in the labyrinth that the sea was, swimming into the darker abyss that was his heart as his shouts, curses and violence were reduced to shock and utter silence. His eyebrows were knit in confusion, yet a line of heartbreaking realization and surprise was there– and it made Uraraka smile a bit higher.

“Why do you do… this?” his words literally fell off, low and whispered in almost fear for what stupidity she would come up with.

“Care doesn’t have an actual reason, it’s just a feeling.” answered Uraraka, eyes closed in peaceful contemplation. “You have protected me as well from Shinsou, defended me against the village. And even without all that, with given time, I would have grown to care about you a little, as I do now.”

“But I don’t, and I am sick of feeling like I owe the world to you when I didn’t–“

“Ask for it?” finished she for him, and he nodded with something alike to desperation crossing his irises, tranquil like a shooting star but fading away fast, like a broken light. “Nobody asks to be cared for, you just receive it. I can take care of myself, so I don’t mind if you, of all people, don’t give a crap. It’s not like I expected you to.”

She was saying it as if it was fine, but a part of him just knew it wasn’t fine. All she had done all along was protect his guild his peers, him from danger no matter how much it hurt her to do so. Then why had she been so preoccupied about him when he couldn’t do that for her, when all he had done had been ridiculous compared to her feats? Why, in the end, was he the one being affected by her feelings and not her by his lack of them?

It was wrong. She was wrong. She couldn’t care, it had to be a good joke or a big performance lie. He shouldn’t have to feel this– that throb of having done enough, yet feeling like there was much more to do. He didn’t like it, he hated it! Bakugou wanted to throw his heart out of the window or give it to her so she could just devour it and give it back ugly, but fixed.

She… was a sorcerer. It was fucking wrong for him to feel even debited towards her.

He… he couldn’t say it anymore. He couldn’t hate her after all she had done for him. And that’s why he hated her despite not really doing so– she had given him a reason not to hate her. She was giving him reasons not to hold back anymore… to embrace her. Uraraka had barged in, cared for him when no one asked, and pushed all his hatred back to pin him down and, suddenly, he wasn’t himself anymore.

He wasn’t full of hatred for her anymore. In its stead, there was this confusing set of annoying feelings, all contradictory and messy that he didn’t even want to touch, screaming his name in a tangled sea of names and tags he didn’t… he just couldn’t touch.

Bakugou stared at her a little moment. So, he didn’t.

That way, he didn’t care now.

Not that much.

“Guys, did you hear that?”

Jack had ran to a side of the road, whip in her hand as a menacing thunderstorm rumbled from high above, near a hill and by the river they were passing by. Uraraka stopped in her tracks to listen closely, but nothing could be heard aside from faraway thunder rolling at the end of the canyon. The guild was currently walking through a very narrow path encored on the rocky cliff, the river flowing deep below them in direction to the forests ahead, then the capital.

Mina stared a bit ahead as well, her eyes finding nothing else but the dark rocks of the cliffs in the night and the waters running crystal black under the moon’s blurry embrace, covered by the thick clouds of incoming storm. She shook her head and held her torch a bit higher. “I can’t see shit in the darkness, above all with the wind from up here. What did it sound like?”

Kaminari, who was at the head of the crew at the moment, stopped them all as he held his arm and sword. Even Bakugou stopped his match when he saw how serious the blonde had turned. “No, I heard that too. It came from a bit under us.”

Everyone peeked from the edge of the thin way, some squatting to not lose balance and topple over. Yaoyorozu shook her head, struggling to see anything else but some dry plants and bubbling water. “There are a few platforms of discontinued paths and the river. I can see some little hills as the canyon ends, but nothing suspicious.”

Bakugou lowered Kaminari’s arm, but knew better than to let his guard down. He let his axe out of his back and walked forward clutching it tightly. “Then, let’s going. A storm is coming and rain in the darkness ain’t pretty. Above all in the canyon.”

Everyone nodded in unison and took a few steps forward to hear the very same noise Jack had heard– except this time, it rung much clearer and louder than before, the screech reaching Uraraka’s ears so terrifyingly well, as if the monster was right–

A crash and a blow were heard and the walls that held the path clear started to crack, tremble, and a horrifying scream of agitation echoed across the whole canyon while a dark green monster with scales and claws started to surface from the depths of the river and crawled up the walls to the path, his eyes locking with Uraraka’s scared ones and letting out another piercing yell of territorial menace, his metal hands making the ground beneath the guild shake and start crumbling.

A panicked, petrified shaky intake of breath broke the confidence for a tranquil path, and Uraraka was suddenly frightened to death for this monster she couldn’t clearly see in the middle of the darkness– but the menace was there, its tail illuminated by the dim moonlight and she could feel him climbing closer, faster, his body making the canyon give in to its weight.

One of Asui’s feet gave in to the cracks, and she would have fallen down if Todoroki hadn’t caught her. “The path widens into an esplanade a few meters ahead where the canyon curves! We must hurry and take it down there, we can’t fight like this!”

Unable to find a better plan, the guild struggled to break from the shock and fear and ran forward through the path as it started giving up behind them and falling into the river. The river creature let out another screech and dived into the waters again, chasing them down while hitting the walls a little while beneath the canyon.

Once they reached the esplanade, Uraraka was ordered by Yaoyorozu to ensure a path out of it before the whole canyon gave up. The sorcerer nodded and pounded a crack of the canyon with her staff, spikes of rocks and solid minerals surfacing through the cracks on the path ahead and holding them in place. Still, the solution wasn’t permanent. “The path is a little fixer-upper, but this won’t last for long if whatever that is shakes it!”

Bakugou flung his war axe on his shoulder and immediately hissed after. His body hadn’t rested enough for a battle of this caliber, not after looking after Uraraka and having to part afterwards. He was tired, aching– but his mind was ready for any challenge like this, for he smirked. “Let’s take this little thing do–“

The beast surfaced again from the side of the big esplanade, making Mina and Midoriya leap backwards as the river monster blocked the way out of the portion of land, and swatted Uraraka’s work off to the river. As it crawled nearer to them, it let out another high pitched wail of anger as it frowned on them, its scales brightening after a flash of thunder and revealing a dragon with green scales, colossal tail and sharp claws, his teeth wet with blood and sweet water.

“It’s a legendary beast from the river!” screamed Midoriya into the night, to his comrades, as wind started howling them off the esplanade. “We can’t possibly kill it, all we must do is paralyze him before he moves too much!”

Even before the leader had finished his orders, Kaminari was completely involved in lightning and sparks as an uncanny smirk of pride wicked his skin. “Ah, then that’s sparky’s field of battle!”

He charged a handful of bolts into his palms, liting up the land around them before smashing the currents and sending it through the minerals of the canyon, running deep into the canyon through the cracks and zipping the monster that lay before them– but the monster never stopped shifting nearer to them. Uraraka took a hesitant step near to the edge of the cliff, and only stopped when the waters were heard too clearly.

“What the fuck is this thing!?” exclaimed Kaminari before charging his sword and adopting a fighting pose, breath heavy from the stamina consumption. “That thing is huge! How are we going to immobilize him with such fat weight?”

Uraraka would have done something about it if it hadn’t been for thunder clapping right beside her, the beast smashing his claw closer to her people and creating a crack across the esplanade. She let out a whimper of fright, yet stayed focused on the beast before them. She could have summoned a meteorite, called in a tsunami to wash the thing away, make the ground beneath him crack and fall, or warp him in a tornado of havoc and destruction.

Yet, she held herself in and charged up. The ground they shared was fragile, at the verge of destruction if the monster took another step as she could hear rocks fall to the river behind her, the surface giving in if the beast made it shake too much. And as everyone was being extra careful, she knew she wasn’t the only one aware of this limitation.

Todoroki wrapped his left side in flames and swung his arm straight at the beast from near Uraraka, flames shooting up and striking right on the beast’s eyes. While the monster shook at the violent blinding, Bakugou was able to charge at him with his axe and jump upwards, hunching and then spinning  to strike at the beast and slice a part of his skin. Blood dripped from the monster and it tried to slap the leader off, him unraveled from his attack and scraping the ground with his boots as he was pushed off.

Big stains of blood covered his naked chest, which he wiped clean as fangs relished on the thought of eating that huge motherfucker for dinner. Jack was next to him, swinging her whip around the beast’s neck and extending it so it would choke his grand, whole body, but the monster easily wiggled and broke her weapon, throwing her off with his claw.

Jack landed on her back dangerously near to the edge, but Uraraka had no space to focus on her, but pushed her away from there before running forward, rain starting to fall on her as she dodged members from her guild. Her staff crossed the thin air before a big jump, a seal appearing beneath her feat and shining before bigger thunder and lights flashed closely above, her form petite and high off the cliff as she had altered her gravity.

Then, lights and electricity came crashing on the creature as the girl dove through the air, driving the thunder right into the beast as she summoned her cast. “Divine Lighting Carriage!”

And the monster did shriek even higher from this as smoke radiated off his body, and his claws pierced the ground as Uraraka landed with scraping boots and her knees brushing the ground as she hissed, pushed away from the beast as well. She realized that the beast was poking holes too deep into the surface– claws digging into the solid rock like butter and creating fractures too deep into the canyon, and then, a big deaf sound beneath.

Half of the ground of the esplanade gave in and started crashing down into the river fast, the members that stayed at the last line started to fall down, crumble with the broken debris and precipitating themselves into the dark waters, meeting their soon to be demise. Mina stumbled and almost fell, but was able to grab onto the edge of the broken esplanade and quickly caught Uraraka when the sorcerer screamed and almost fell as well.

“Are you alright, sis?” her right hand was tightly clasped around Uraraka’s, yet her left one was slipping, and fast.

And the brunette, even in her state of agitation and unfathomable fear, could see this– she could see her hand so clearly. So many things were happening around her: the monster was still wailing at the guild, somebody had fallen into the river, and she could feel some more people struggling to hold onto the falling esplanade. She could see more rocks crumbling beneath her and crashing in the waters.

The portion to which Mina was holding onto would give up soon. And she would fall with Uraraka if the sorcerer didn’t do something about it. “Mina, let me go!”

“What?” wind made things difficult to be heard, but the archer still held her tight in the middle of the chaos. “No way I am–“

Another deaf crash vibrated nearby, and more rocks crashed. Sooner or later, Uraraka would fall into the river, meters and meters and meters of void fall pivoting her future tragedy. “Please, Mina! If you don’t let me fall, both of us will!”

“Uraraka,” one of her fingers slipped, and the pair was tugged a bit down. The sorcerer held her breath in, eyes widening. But Mina’s hold on her never lessened. “don’t be a pain!”

If she could, she would float the way up, but in this state of agitation and exhaustion from the run and the fight, there was no way she would be able to go up there again and stand straight. There was a loud gruff curse, a scream, and somebody else had fallen again. “Mina, you must trust me on this!”

This made the pink girl look under her, grimace at the pain this was supposing, and started pondering the thought. She was quick to shake it away. She would never let a comrade fall, not in her wildest dreams! If Uraraka fell down to the river, she would probably die from both the crash and the rocks that laid below them. Thunder clapped, rain started falling, wind howling in the middle of the thunderstorm, and Uraraka felt both of them giving up on their stone hold–

“Forgive me for this, Mina!”

Uraraka used her last resort to summon a little flame that burnt Mina’s hand scarcely, making the archer let go for a moment in deep pain– but then, Uraraka was falling down, her hands reaching out for her friend again as air was knocked out of her lungs, a scream of hers piercing through the storm as she fell down across the canyon, compassing the raindrops and nearer and nearer to the wild waters inching closer to her.

Suddenly, there was no feeling of ground anymore. Her stomach was sinking into her, her organs lurched as she desperately tried to hold onto something, anything in her way, not knowing where solid ground was but only aware of the music of crash and rumble, quake and death climbing up to her as her body only fell down faster and faster, away from the stars and moonlight she had once soared under.

In a second, her body splashed and there was nothing around her anymore. Silence surrounded her as rocks and debris crumbled into the water with deaf bursts of rock meeting ground, foam forming at her fingertips and strands as her body plummeted down, almost touching the deep ground before the current starts pulling her away– and she let herself be taken as the fall sunk into her and all pain and sudden notion of having stopped numbed her.

Consciousness and pain mixed, narrowing down to something sharp and full of grim colors she couldn’t see in the darkness, the only feeling that kept her alive actually trying to kill her. Water ran down her throat as she tried to breathe unconsciously, and all sensations crackled down to numbness and pain, all taking her down the trashing river.

Until, suddenly, something soft and nice enveloped her in the night, an insane cycle of destruction and agony stopping. Feet below the surface where it was darker, muskier and wetter, with a heartbeat where silence was all that bubbled around her again, and the warmth made her feel safe, like a child in a lost home of gray hues where a family once lived, where a child once lived.

And the last thought she had was... that is was so warm down there, in the dark, deep in muddy water, with him. It was so… nice. This place, she couldn’t feel scared here.

The image of a scattered young, blonde boy crossed her mind like s hooting star, crossed in between the strings of times and lost galaxies, fluttering out of space.

“Katsuki…”

[sunbabyhcs]

delinquent au!persichanmin hcs!

happy birthday sunbaby!! as promised, here is the delinquent poly hcs :^) it’s not my best but i hope it makes ur day nonetheless!!! i luv u, grandma uwu

a little background info to start us off!!

you moved to korea when you were in middle school!! 

you were still near/at the top of your class regardless where you were, so teachers loved you!!!

you made friends quickly with some of the other kids at the school, namely another transfer kid named parker, seungmin, jisung, and a younger kid named jeongin!

y’all were really good friends and naturally stuck together all throughout!!

when you guys got to high school, there was obviously a bit of a shift because the pressure got worse :( 

but y’all!!! stayed close no matter what

quickly though, you all got ear of this little group of kids that were “no good troublemakers without a future”

which you thought was kinda harsh but okay

the boys were just like “Oh. Cool. so just Don’t Get Beat Up. Nice.”

but you and parker though made a Pact to be cautious w friends bc of this

so, while the three boys became rlly popular and their friend group only grew (they never forgot u two!!! ur their sunshines >:( )

y’all stayed real cautious of who you let in,,, cause what if they were accidentally one of the Bad Boys and fucked up your whole future???

YOU WOULDNT ALLOW THAT!

but, of fucking course, the group of bad boys or whatever noticed you two and,,,,, Very Quickly,,,,,

made it their mission to just make u want to drop kick each of them and sell their souls to satan

parker found herself constantly annoyed by some kid named hyunjin – he had a lip ring and never took off his leather jacket

he was kinda Cute tho u had to give him some props for that

you? well you got the attention of two boys

Good For You!! :^)

the two boys were chan and minho, two of the older ones in their little group and GOD

they annoyed the HELL OUT OF YOU

first off, do they EVER stop sucking on those goddamned lollipops?

do they EVER bother to do their work?? why can’t they ask someone else for the homework???

cant they just Shut Up with their stupid greasy pickup lines??? and can they ever stop fucking winking when they see you????

CAN THEY JUST LEAVE YOU ALONE WHAT THE FUCK

even though you were annoyed that their mothers birthed two fucking Dicks

you,,,,,, perchance,,,,,, kindasortamaybelikedthemandthoughttheyweremegacute

BUT ONLY KINDA SORTA!!!!!!

sure!!! they were probably like this to every girl that crossed their path but!!!!!

(this being a flirty annoying mess)

THEY WERE CUTE!!!! ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

so you thought you could hide this real well!!!! because you WERE genuinely annoyed by them a lot!!!!

but they were still cute UGH

chan and minho though. no matter How Hard you tried to hide your growing crushes on them. Noticed

how couldn’t they???? 

you slowly stopped making really biting comments toward them!!! those comments slowly became less violent and most of your actions in general just died down bit by bit,,, and they????

were Confused at first like

(・・?) why isn’t persi responding to us like they were before????? 

america explain?????

they caught on though when they noticed how ur cheeks would flush when they made those Greasy Flirty Jokes to you

and :^) they liked this :^)

like!!! they only picked on you cause ur CUTE!!!! 

THEY THINK UR RLLY CUTE!!!!

and they knew you wouldn’t ever pay attention to them unless they made it a life mission to piss you off for all eternity

so when you started blushing and getting caught off guard cause of minho’s slick comments or chan’s “babygirl” in his thick australian accent???

they were,,,, Euphoric

chan had a Plan for him and minho to Really get to you and honestly????

not to pat himself on the back but he thought it was p good

he had asked hyunjin to get some of ur preferences for things from parker, since chan noticed that he was getting real Cozy with ya homie!!!

once hyunjin texted those Deets to chan, he forwarded that to minho and they Went All Out

so at the start of next week, in ur last class of the day, they arrived a bit earlier than they usually did

(y’all have that last block together uwu)

you noticed them walk in cause,,, well,,, they’re Them and it also??? wasn’t late in the period

actually it was just a minute after the tardy bell

ya brushed it off tho and just went thru the class like usual

so when the day officially ended and kinda harsh but okay

everyone had left the class already

chan and minho swooped in

they knew that u usually left a bit later than everyone else cause u kept ya shit Organized and u weren’t gonna stray from that

so as u got up to leave, they Yoted right up to ur side, one on each, and slung their arms around your shoulders

you tried shrugging them off without saying a word cause ur cheeks,,,, were already burning

but they Weren’t Having It

minho started talking all Smooth and ur cheeks started getting Redder as he kept talking

“yknow, princess, chan and i’ve noticed that you’ve been getting fidgety around us lately.”

chan continued off of that

“and we’ve been noticing quite a bit babygirl. you’ve really taken a liking to the two of us, haven’t ya?”

yeah you didn’t get any chance to speak lol rip

m: “but you don’t gotta overthink, sweet cheeks. we’ve taken a liking to ya, too.”

c: “and we’re just gonna address this before you shoot us down, love. we ain’t gonna get in your pants and go, yknow? we’re not nasty ass dogs.”

m: “we know our reputation ‘round school, sweetheart. but when we really got our eyes set on someone, like you for instance, we ain’t half the assholes they say we are, hun.”

at this point you were ready to just fucking bolt the rest of the distance home you Didn’t Want To Hear Any More

like...... can they Shut Up ur Annoyed and Slightly Interested but also Annoyed because they Sound Conceited

but chan continued and u kinda just went Blank

“so here’s our little thing we thought up. we – minho and i – wanna take you on a date. the three of us. after that, you can decide if ya really wanna date us or not – yes both of us don’t look at me like that we know what we’re doing babygirl.

anyways, if ya wanna date us after that, we’ll be more than happy to be yours. if not, that’s that. whaddya say, princess?”

you looked at the both of them like they were crazy for a little bit cause,,, ya thoughts were Dead

like oh. they. they like you too. what do you do with this information.

you gave them both a chance though,,,,,, quite reluctantly,,, but a chance nonetheless

that weekend, they took you on a local date, yknow ice cream, park, beach to watch the sunset on the coast kinda deal!!!

and you really hated to admit it, but you,,,, you really liked them

that whole date proved it

like??? what wasn’t there to like??? they were both genuine sweethearts and gentlemen with you

minho was so eccentric and hilarious, you could barely breathe the entire day

and chan was the actual embodiment of sunshine like

???????

how could u not have a Fat Fucking Crush on those two after your date????

y’all were resting on a big picnic blanket placed on the sand and the sky was turning those brilliant shades of orange, red, purple,,,

it was a whole hecking painting in front of your eyes

a peaceful quiet surrounded the three of you as you watched the sun go below the horizon

and, glancing at the two boys next to you, taking note of your heart beating and the soft smile that adorned your face, you spoke up slightly

just enough so they would hear you, but not that the Good Atmosphere was destroyed

“i’ll try it out. try... try us out.”

and the sparkling eyes that met yours, the blinding smiles on both their faces made you realize

yeah, you made the right decision.

and yeah, you were sure you weren’t gonna regret it.

[fanforfanatic]

As You’re Told - FOUR

Relationships: Castiel x Reader Rating: Smut Warnings: Dom/sub, bdsm A/N: Orgasms occur this time!

~8000 words

Summary: You start dating Castiel, a famous physicist, when you get hired at the same university as him. A few months into the relationship, you explore dom/sub dynamics within your sex lives.

Read it on ao3

Chapters on tumblr: ONE  TWO  THREE  FOUR  FIVE  SIX

Chapter FOUR

You lock the door after him and let out a massive breath. You lean on the wall for a little while, waiting for the shit storm to hit. Waiting for the panic. For the embarrassment. For the What the fuck just happened? It doesn’t come. You wonder if it’s normal that you liked what you and Cas did so much. If it’s normal to enjoy- not just enjoy but relish- following orders as much as you did. But that’s the extent of the ramifications.

You’ve had wilder sex than this. Hell, you’ve had wilder sex than this with Cas. Hell, you didn’t really even get to the sex part. It was freaking frottage at the most. But. But. It was so intense. Every little thing felt massive, felt like the only thing, until the next thing. Then, that became the only thing.

You were nervous (really fucking nervous) in the beginning, but it definitely got easier. You hadn’t been able to get up from your chair when he first asked you to, but by the end you were under his damn thumb. (Your hand drifts to your left breast, then, though you don’t feel it through the thickness of the robe.) When you managed to do what Cas asked of you, it made the next task less daunting. At some point you stopped even thinking about it but you think that had more to do with how much you wanted to come. Probably.

You sigh again. No trainwreck for now. To keep it that way you know that you need to avoid thinking of just how pathetic you were at times. Begging and pleading, choking on your own words.

“Nope nope nope. Not going there.”

You trudge to the kitchen, realising just how thirsty you are and down a glass of water. You fill it up again, waiting patiently for the water distributor in the refrigerator door.  You take another few sips and leave it on the counter.

You go find your discarded clothes next. You pull on your jeans, forgoing underwear, and smell the shirt you had borrowed from Cas. It didn’t smell like sex or sweat or debauchery like you thought it might but you decide to get a fresh one anyway. You head back to the bathroom, the one that’s in Cas’ room and, once you pick up your panties and Cas’ underwear from the floor, drop them and the t-shirt in the laundry basket. You hang up the bathrobe and return to the bedroom.

You put on the bra you’d had yesterday and go to his dresser. The undershirts (and the socks) are in the second drawer. You open the first. The sight of the toys is too much too fast and has you slamming the drawer shut. You’re not a fucking prude, okay? You own toys. You didn’t feel embarrassed when you went and bought them in the store (ordering online is for wimps). You dirty talk as much as the next guy. Better. You really have a mouth on you when you get going in general. You’re a rambler. An excessive talker. That transfers into sex.

Usually.

You had your tongue caught in your throat with Cas earlier today, because it’s not the same. It’s just not. Cas wanted you to say things and it was so out there. Not the words being said, but the saying of the words. Usually, when you’re saying the nasty while doing the nasty, you don’t see the other person staring at you like they’re holding back from ravaging you. Usually your head is pressed into a pillow where the words are muffled and your eyes are closed. Or the other person’s head is between your legs and you’re not maintaining constant eye contact. Usually, you’re so far gone by the time your lips get loose that you can’t be bothered feeling embarrassed. Can’t be bothered filtering any of it. It was different this morning, though.

Just like these toys are different. These toys aren’t in an old shoebox under your bed. They aren’t the alternative to your hand. These toys are full of Cas. Hand picked by Cas. Thoughtful and careful choices made by Cas. Rebuilt my collection , he’d said. He placed them here, in this drawer that has dividers. He organised them, probably re organised them when all the dildos didn’t fit in one section, decided to put the butt plugs there instead or some other arbitrary shit that happens when people are figuring out storage. Point is these are Cas’ . Meaning, he wanted to use them on someone in very specific ways and now he wants to use them on you. And you’re going to let him. You’re going to let him.

So, yeah, these toys are different and it’s a little hard to look at them. The world can bite your sweet ass.

You open the drawer again, just an inch and peek inside. There’s so many things in here, it’s full to the damn brim. You open the drawer more fully and force yourself to stare inside until you can stop your muscles from clenching. You don’t really take in most of what’s in there. You’re just- Exposure therapy. That’s what you’re doing, you realise. With a huff (once you’ve unclenched all your muscles), you close the drawer once more. You don’t need to be practicing psychology on yourself.

Except maybe you do. Shrugging on a new t-shirt from the second drawer you say, “I want you to touch me.”

Walking back to the kitchen you say, “Fuck me, Cas.”

After a sip of water you say, “Fuck me, Cas, please.” And then, “Please fuck me, Cas?” You wonder if there’s a grammatical preference for the order of the words. You shrug and head to the coat stand with your water. You’d left your satchel bag at the base of it, last night.

“Yes, I want you to take my underwear off. Yes, I want to stop being such a fucking loser. Would I like to not suck? Sure!”

You plop down onto the couch and pull your computer from your bag. You get about an hour of work done, taking care of the grades first, then diving into the powerpoint. You are the newest member of the faculty, at least as far as the physics department is concerned, so you get a lot of the tasks the people with seniority don’t want. Like hosting a seminar for confused freshmen who haven’t declared their major. You don’t mind it so much. You figure everyone’s gotta pay their dues.

After that first hour, you have to consciously stop yourself from researching dominant and submissive relationships. Information is power, but information can also get inside your head. Well, obviously that’s where information goes, but, whatever, you get what you mean.

You think what you glimpsed while filling out the checklist is enough to tide you over. You know that you can ask Cas questions, in any case, and he probably has trustworthy resources if ever you want to delve in deeper. Jumping blindly nerves first in the wild sea of the internet is not something you’re interested in doing when it comes to this. Still, you end up having to stop yourself from doing exactly that at least four times.

It’s when you’re trying not to cave for the fifth time that Cas decides to text you, like the saviour that he is.

How are you feeling?

About what we did?

We’ll talk about that in person. How r u feeling rn?

I’m good? You type out.

Cas got weird after Charlie called and at the time your mind was sluggish so you hadn’t caught on, but you know now that Cas was doing aftercare. Which is sweet, really, but unnecessary. You weren’t going to have that thing that subs have where they feel wonky after a scene, because you aren’t a real sub. Besides, you guys barely did anything, it probably doesn’t happen even to real subs unless there’s actual sex involved.

You continue typing: Nbd. Getting hungry, you gonna be here for lunch?

Cas’ answer is immediate. Nbd??

No big deal, old man

So you’re alright?

Yes sir :p ;) You follow up with, food?

I’m gonna be another two hours at least. Eat w/o me

Is the part.acc. data retrieved?

Working on it :( And then, Should be fine tho. What are you doing?

Procrastinating, because im a model prof

You feel up to doing something for me? It can wait til im home

You swallow. Are you up for it? Before, Cas was there to reassure you every time you thought you were in over your head. Cas isn’t here now. Then again, that also means you could freak out privately. And Cas’ eyes on you was thirty percent of the struggle.

Baby? It’s nbd :P we can wait

Shoot

Ur sure?

You type: yeah, bruh, hit me with your best shot. You erase it and type: Wouldn’t say that I am if- You erase it and type: Im sure cas

Ur perfect

I want you to go the dresser and open the first drawer

Take every single toy in your hands and decide if you’d like it used on you

Make a no pile on the bed

Pick the one from the yeses you’d like to try first and put it on top of the dresser.

You stare at the onslaught of texts for a minute. Or two. Or maybe a whole fucking year goes by. Absentmindedly, you turn the sound of your phone off, in case Cas decides to go on another texting spree.

Do you understand?

Yea cas

Would you like to wait for me?

You picture it for a moment, Cas sitting on the bed, grinning at you while you go through each and every item, probably as red as a tomato.

No

Should I feel insulted?

Extremely so. I prefer when youre not around, i just rly like ur place

You’re cruel

Gottago deans got smt

Be good.

“Fuck,” You mutter, rubbing a palm against your left boob. “You be good, asshole.”

You shove your computer away like it’s what’s offended you and rise to your feet. In a Great Act Of Defiance, you decide to eat before doing what Cas asked. You’re a real rebel, alright.

You eat peanut butter on toast. You like that if the bread is hot enough the peanut butter melts a little. Then you eat one of the cannoli. And an apple. And a banana. And the leftover blueberries from breakfast. In fact, only once you’ve divested the kitchen of fruit (Castiel doesn’t keep junk at his place), do you go to the bedroom.

It mocks you. The drawer. It’s telling you that you’re a chicken shit and it’s right. You don’t need to be doing this. There’s literally no reason for you to do this. Expect that Cas told you to.

You sigh. You signed up for this. You don’t regret it, either. You enjoyed it this morning. You know that you did. So just shut your whore mouth and get rid of the toys that freak you out. Christ, it’s not nuclear physics.

Honestly, it’d be easier if it were.

After your pep talk, things go relatively smooth. You start with the buttplugs because that’s simple enough, you’d discussed them first during the checklist. You toss the largest one he’s got on the bed because you’re not interested in dying. It’s the same for the dildos but you also remove one of the smaller ones, just because you don’t like the shape.

Once you do that, the rest feels like more of the same. You pick up each vibrator and then put them back down, trying not to feel silly for picking up the ones you’re sure you’ll keeping just by looking at them. You continue through the rest of the gizmos and gadgets calmly, only squirming when you get flooded with ideas of just how Cas might want to use them. It’s almost therapeutic.

As far as bondage items go, you get rid of everything that has patent leather because you don’t like how shiny it is and how very sex club dominatrix queen (or something) it looks. There’s enough of the matt leather that you don’t think it’ll be a problem. You get rid of the rubber restraints that are so stiff you think they’d cut into your skin. You get rid of the cuffs that have fuzzy fur on them, even if its softness surprises you. If you’re going to be tied up you want it to be with classy stuff. Not something tacky even if you can tell that the cuffs are really good quality.

You get rid of the actual whip he has. Kinky, fucker. You get rid of a small pizza cutter style knife that has blunt points. You get rid of a wooden ruler because if Cas wants to do a professor role play so help you God. (You put the ruler back in the drawer.) You get rid of a gag that’s shaped like a penis and after a bit of hesitation you keep the ring gag.

Despite the healthy pile of things you did take out, what’s left outnumbers it by far. You’re about to close the drawer, but something gnaws at you. You leave the room only to return with post-its and a pen, all stolen from Cas’ desk. You write maybe on one and stick it on the ring gag. You write never before on another and stick it on magnetic spheres that mostly confuse you. You write out one more post it for the compartment of nipple clamps: Can’t really tell how intense these are, so we can work our way up? You black out the question mark because it’s not really a question, you decide.

You return the supplies to their places and settle on the couch again. Still, something gnaws at you. You go back to the drawer and remove the maybe post-it from the ring gag. You’d said on the checklist that you weren’t sure about it and you trust Cas to keep that in mind. This time, when you return to the couch, it’s with a deeply satisfied feeling.

The indicator on your phone flashes and you find you have texts and two missed calls from Cas.

20 minutes ago: How’s it going?

19 minutes ago: Are we having fun yet? ;)

10 minutes ago: Baby, I need you to tell me you’re alright

7 minutes ago: Answer me, now.

5 minutes ago: I’m going to call, pick up.

4 minutes ago: I need you to pick up, alright?

2 minutes ago: Im on my way

“Shit.” You click on the icon of a telephone at the top of the text conversation and listen to it ring once before Cas answers.

“ Thank, fuck. Are you okay? What are you feeling? ”

“Cas, I’m fine, seriously. I was, euh, I was, doing the thing, and I left my phone in the living room. No need to rush back.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief on his end of the line and it sounds like he slows down.

“I’m sorry, I freaked you out, Cas.” You say, guilt creeping up your spine. You had started to feel like you wouldn’t fuck up and yet…

“ I’m on my way .”

“Cas, I swear I’m fine.”

“ We’re almost done here. The rest is pretty technical, anyway, so I’m going to leave Dean and Charlie to it. I’m fifteen minutes out. ”

“A-Are you upset with me?” You just- you need to know. Need to prepare yourself.

“ What? No? Baby, no . I’m just- I’ll be there soon, okay? ”

“Okay, Cas.”

It’s barely ten minutes later that you hear the jingle of his keys outside. He doesn’t waste time at the door, dropping his bag, kicking his shoes off and slinging his coat in the general vicinity of the stand somehow all at once. Then he’s beside you on the couch, taking the water out of your hands, placing it on the table, and gathering you in his arms.

After a moment he pulls back so he can watch your face, which he holds in two large hands, while he asks, “How are you, baby?”

You grin at him. “Cas, I’m good. I see what you’re doing and, honestly, it’s overkill.” You all but stick your tongue out at him.

Cas searches your face for anything that might ring false. When he’s satisfied that you’re alright, he lets go of you and his eyes narrow playfully. “Overkill, huh?”

“Mhmm, if you’re not careful you’re going to drive me away with all this affection.”

“Is that so?”

“Yea-”

He pulls you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him (again). The position turns your entire body on like some kind of pavlovian effect. Jesus, even the dog needed more than one run through.

You kiss, gently, then hard, then gently again and your arms wrap around his neck like they belong there.

“I was thinking about you all day.” He says.

“Liar. You were probably running around like a chicken with its head cut off worrying about the experiment.”

“That’s true but my mind kept being tugged back to this pesky thing I left at home.”

“Pesky? And here I thought I was just unbearable.”

He kisses you. “You’re both.”

“You’re very good to put up with me, then.” You kiss him.

“That’s also true. What I want to know is if you were good for me.”

Everything changes, then. His eyes are on yours, just like usually, and his voice is the same as ever, but it’s different. You take a deep breath. You can do this. You practiced like a loser. They’re just words.

“I was.” You say.

“You were what?”

You don’t even glare this time. You don’t huff in annoyance. You don’t even call him a prick in your own head. You just take another breath and say, “I was good.” And then, “For you.”

Cas’ heart fucking pounds out of his chest and breaks a rib on the way. “Show me.”

You lead the way to the bedroom, your hand in his as he trails behind you. You steal a few furtive glances over your shoulder and sometimes you’re met with soft eyes, other times with a look of mischief.

He settles you on the bed and spreads out your no pile. Your heart is racing and you think Cas hears it because he grips the back of your neck, tilts your head up, and kisses you. He goes back to examining what’s laid out but he doesn’t question any of it. When he’s done he scoops it all up in a canvas bag he gets from and returns to his closet.

Next he opens the drawer and you know the huff of laughter is from the post-its. Of course, he thinks, you’re nothing if not thorough.

He looks around the room, after that. The sun beams through the two windows on either side of the bed. They’re narrow but start at the floor and go all the way to the ceiling so the light floods in easily. For a moment you wonder if he’s trying to choose what he wants to fuck you on. The space is minimally furnished so you don’t think it’ll take him too long to decide.

“Take out your phone.” He says from his place by the dresser, his tone serious, reprimanding.

“I- What?” Your brain short circuits. Did you screw up? No, you did good. You know you did, you picked up every single thing in that drawer and-

“Take out your phone.” He repeats, still stern but patient.

“Okay, yeah, okay.” You lean back, somewhat, to pull it out of your pocket and hold it out to him. What’s he going to do? Take a picture of the drawer and send it to everyone you know? Look at all the things she wants used on her. Of course he doesn’t want to do that. This is Cas. Not a creature straight out of purgatory.

Cas shakes his head at you. “Open it and go to our texts.”

Your hands move of their own accord.

“Read the instructions I sent you.”

“Okay?” You say, scrolling up. “You’re-” perfect. “I want you to go to the dresser and open the first drawer. Take every single toy in your hands and decide if yo- you’d like it,” You clear your throat, consider shooting Cas a pleading look, but ultimately continue, “If you’d like it u-used on you. Make a no pile on the bed. Pick the one from the yes -”

You stop, eyes wide and on Cas. “Cas, I-”

“Finish reading.” His eyes have darkened and he looks like a brewing storm in the sunny room.

“I- Okay,” You sigh. “P-pick the one from the yes es you’d like to try first and put it on top of the dresser.”

“Did you do that?”

“No,” You say, looking down at the floor.

“Did you do what you were told?”

You meet his eyes and whimper, “No, Cas.”

“Do you have an explanation?”

You’d forgotten but you say, “I, um, I just wanted you today?”

Cas’ demeanor steels even more. “Did you just lie to me?”

“What? No! I mean yes- I mean I didn’t mean to- I- I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t, I…” You trail off but by then you’ve crossed the room and plastered yourself to him. “I’m sorry.” You say again.

There’s a moment where Cas doesn’t say anything. It’s because he’s reeling a bit. You’ve taken to this so much more than he could have imagined, even if you’re still struggling with that fact internally. You can’t tell, though. In fact when Cas doesn’t say anything, you think you’ve really gone and ruined things.

Before you can spiral too much, Cas pets your hair and says, “It’s okay.”

He moves you away, even as you’re reluctant to give into his hands, so he can look at you.

“It’s okay, even good girls make mistakes, okay?” He’s gentle but very much in control.

You bristle. You don’t want to hear good gir- those words right now. “I’m sorry.” You repeat.

“I know you are.” With a grin that soothes you more than anything else has, he says, “We’re going to find a way for you to apologise alright?”

You nod. “Okay, Cas.”

“Okay,” He echoes then turns you both so he’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, and you’re facing the drawer. “Open it.”

You rush to comply.

“Good.” He squeezes your shoulders. “Now, pick the first toy you’d like to try.”

You nod but you don’t move. You don’t know what the right choice is. You don’t want to take something too safe, in case he thinks it’s a sign that you’re not all in. Because you are all in , you realise. You also don’t want to take something too-

“I’m going to repeat something I told you earlier, alright? Wrong answers are the ones that are lies and the ones you give because you think they’re what I want to hear. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Cas.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Pick the toy you’d like to try first.”

You take out a pair of leather cuffs. You don’t necessarily prefer them over everything else, but it’s a place you feel comfortable starting. You place them on the dresser, just like the original instructions had said and you hear Cas grunt softly behind you. He presses his body against yours and you feel him, half hard.

“You’re perfect,” He whispers in your ear making you tremble in his hands.

“M’not.”

Cas turns you so that you face him and firmly says, “I decide.”

You don’t know what to do, but you’re not about to argue with him. “Okay, Cas.”

“Good. Kiss me.”

You asked him just that earlier today but right now Cas is telling you. So you do the only thing you can do and kiss him.

When he pulls away, he steps back from you entirely. “Lift your shirt up.”

You grunt. “Cas, not again.”

He grins at you, glad that you’ve shaken your slump. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“Fine.” You lift up your shirt so that you’re holding it under your chin.

“What’s this? No, no, that won’t do.” Cas looks almost offended to see the undergarment. “Take it off and take your bra off. Now.”

“Fuck yeah,” You half cheer, tossing your shirt to the ground followed by your simple white bra. You move your hands to the button of your pants but wait, expectantly looking at Cas.

He laughs. “Are we eager, babe?”

“We’re horny, babe. ”

“Take ‘em off.” He says.

“Yes, Sir .” You say sarcastically, dropping and kicking your pants off faster than you knew you could.

Cas would be impressed, if he wasn’t so distracted by the fact that you aren’t wearing underwear. And if his eyes weren’t narrowing at you for giving him lip.

He stalks over, very much how a predator would, and places his hands on either side of you, flat against the still-open drawer. He slides it shut backing you up against the dresser.

He leans down so his lips are near your ear, just a breath away from brushing against it. “You already have two things to apologise for,” He says, his voice deep, rough. “Do you want to make it three?”

You’re completely naked between the tweed clad arms of this handsome man who isn’t touching you but who is so so close it’s making you a little dizzy.

You say, “No, Cas.”

“Get on the bed, on your back.”

You expect Cas to watch you obey, he’s always watching you, but he shrugs off his jacket and walks into his closet instead.

You wait patiently once you’re settled. Well, you don’t really ever settle, placing your hands by your sides and then on your stomach and then by your sides, again, but you wait. You’re rewarded for it because when Cas steps out of the closet, he’s sans sweater, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, and he’s rolling up his second sleeve, exposing his forearms and looking so damn good it might be a sin. It’s got your hips shifting involuntarily and you decide you’re going to ask the Human and Legal Resources at the school if it’s at least against the law to look so damn good.

If you missed Cas’ eyes before, which you realise that you did, you don’t anymore because they’re on you now, intent as ever. He moves to stand by the foot of the bed and places the tip of a finger in the crook just behind the knob of your ankle.

He watches your face while he drags just the tip of his finger up over the curve of your calf. He watches you bite- chew- your lip as his finger dips in where the back of your knee does. He watches your lashes flutter from trying to keep your eyes open- he loves that he doesn’t even have to tell you to- while he traces the shape of your thigh.

He glances down, just for a second, to see the way his finger presses into your flesh. Then, he’s right back to watching your face as your breath hitches because his finger is making its way up your body but also towards the center of it. Not enough, though. Not there. He smirks at you like the cat who got the creme tapping your hip bone twice almost chastising you for your dirty thoughts.

He follows the curve of your hip, of your waist, of the mound of your left breast. He circles your nipple once, twice, and it either hardens or it had already puckered. You don’t know. You’re not sure you care. You just want to be touched.

Cas knows, so he touches you. He pinches your nipple but there’s no bite. It’s more like he’s holding it between his thumb and forefinger and it’s weird but mostly it’s not enough.

“Cas,” You breathe out.

“Tell me, which toy you chose to have used on you first.”

Does he have to use all the fucking words? Is he trying to make you self combust? He could have said what did you pick or which item did you choose, but nooo Cas has to go and be an asshole. Asshole .

“You saw what I- Leather c-cuffs, leather cuffs!” You’re quick to rectify when cas squeezes your nipple.

Your hips buck off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress and you expect Cas to let go but he just continues to hold your nipple with the same pressure.

“Ask me.”

“W-wha-” He squeezes just a little harder and jesus fucking christ you feel it between your legs. “Alright! Okay, jeez. Cuff me- fuck. ” The pressure increases more as he twists his fingers this time. It’s a little painful but it’s mostly not and that’s freaking you out. “Please u-use the leather cuffs to r-restrain me.” You say, writhing all the while and Cas only has the tips of two fingers on you. Not even in you.

“To what?”

“What? Cas I don’t know, I don’t know okay, that’s,” You inhale because you haven’t been getting all the oxygen you need. “That’s my real answer, okay? I don’t- Whatever you want. Cuff me to whatever you want. I don’t care. ”

“Hmm.” Cas ponders for a moment, eyes on yours. “No.”

He steps back, taking his touch along with him and you want it back as torturous as it was. He goes to the dresser and puts the cuffs away.

“You disobeyed me earlier so you don’t get the help. You’re going to have to restrain yourself.”

He’s back by your side when he says, “Arms up, hold the headboard.”

Your hands fly over your head, your fingers gripping the wood of the bed frame.

Cas brushes the back of his fingers over your cheek. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

You choke a little but you sigh out, “Yeah, Cas.”

Cas moves away from you again but this time it’s to climb between your legs. He bends them at the knees and spreads them, making one hang off the bed. Then, very true to character, Cas looks.

He stares and when you squirm and try to close your thighs to try to hide yourself from his gaze, he holds them open.

“You won’t move.” He says without even glancing up. “You’ll let me look at you for as long as I’d like.”

“Why?” You complain and you hate how whiny you sound.

He grins then, sparing you a once over. “Because I want to and because I said so.”

His hand drifts up your thigh in a feathery touch, but when he presses his thumb between your lips to pull one to the side it’s with a contrasting firmness. You fidget at the feeling and Cas’ other hand smacks your thigh, packing a bit of sting.

“What? I kept my legs open.” The words come out of your mouth and you feel like a whore in a brothel saying them.

“I told you not to move.”

“Like at all?” Your eyes widen. “How am I supposed to do that with you touching me and- and looking at me like that.”

He shrugs.

“Cas, c’mon, you’re killing me here.”

He hums and says, “ La petite mort.”

“What?”

Cas moves his thumb so it’s right against your entrance and tugs gently at the rim.

You sigh, enjoying the sensation and trying to keep your hips from participating.

Cas pushes the tip of his thumb, not even to the first knuckle, just inside of you.

You breathe deliberately. It feels good, he’s giving you so little but it feels good.

“Cas,” You moan, a quiet little moan.

Cas wishes he’d already taken his pants off altogether but settles for undoing them with deft fingers, giving his straining erection some room.

He pulls his thumb out and you barely manage a grunt of disapproval before he’s pushing it back in, maybe a millimeter deeper than before. He rubs it along your opening and the slow pace of it all is absolutely maddening. Which you tell him.

“This isn’t just punishment, Cas. It’s damn torture.”

Cas looks away from where he’s working you over to give you a deceivingly confused look that’s all too knowing. “This isn’t punishment at all.”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“This is your apology. I won’t be punishing you this time.” The hand on your thigh squeezes warningly. “Don’t think I’ll be as generous with my leniency beyond this point. I won’t tolerate you lying to me.” As an afterthought, because it is the lesser infraction in his eyes, he adds, “And I expect you to do as you’re told and not forget a task when you’re given clear directions.”

You nod a little too willfully. “But… Cas what you’re doing…”

He swivels his thumb and you just manage to keep from using your leverage on the headboard to take him in deeper.

“Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“No, I- I am, but-”

“Then it isn’t punishment.”

You nod, gasping as Cas draws his thumb out then pushes back in again and again, fucking you with it. Your chest heaves making it so that if Cas couldn’t hear your breathing, he can now see it. This time, when Cas pulls his thumb out, he glides it upwards to land and press on your clit.

“ Fuck. ” Your hips rolls, chasing the pleasure as sharp as it was.

There’s nothing for your hips to meet, though, because Cas’ hand is gone.

“No,” He says. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” You make promises you don’t know you can keep.

His thumb returns to your clit but he also sinks his pointer finger into you. He goes so goddamn slow the feel of him is more agonising than not. You want more, you want so much more.

“Good,” He says when your only movement is the tremors of your body.

His thumb rolls your clit at a calm and steady pace but with varying pressure. The finger inside you doesn’t move at all. At first, it’s okay. At first, what he gives you is enough, you struggle to remain still, but it’s enough. You murmur to Cas that it feels so good and that he always touches so well . He’s got you panting and he’s got you forgetting to be embarrassed about it.

Then, minutes pass, however many, and you find yourself needing more. Needing anything more. You find yourself begging Cas quietly.

“Please, please, please, Cas, please, I- please. ”

Cas needs to physically restrain himself because seeing you like this does things to him. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to move, I want- please, Cas.” You thrash your head to the side, to keep from thrashing your hips, and press your face into the cool pillow.

So Cas moves but it’s as unhurried as everything else he’s done. He drags his index out, pressing along your upper wall all the while, then nudges it back in. Over and over and over and you can’t.

“ No, ” Cas snaps, taking his hand away and slapping your mound with it. It shocks you more than anything else but has you writhing on the sheets letting out a low groan nonetheless. Cas smacks your thigh this time, getting some of your wetness on it. His voice is deeper than usual, which you hadn’t thought was entirely possible. “I told you not to move.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You gasp when you manage to calm yourself. “I am, I’m sorry, Cas.”

“You asked me to fuck you with my finger, correct?”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah, Cas.”

“And what did I do?”

“It?” Even as you say the word you know it isn’t enough so when Cas raises an unamused brow at you, you shift and mumble, “You fucked me with your finger.”

“And what did I ask you?”

“To not move.”

“Did you do that?”

You shake your head but seeing Cas’ hand lift you quickly say, “No, I didn’t.”

His hand falls gently back to you, even rubs your thigh soothingly, spreading more of your slick onto your skin. You shiver beneath him.

“So you understand then, that you can’t be getting what you want, right?”

You suspect the question is rhetorical, but you don’t really end up pondering because Cas returns his hand to your pussy, thumb toying with your clit and finger buried inside of you. It seems contradictory to his words but when he doesn’t move inside of you, you get it.

“Cas, please.” You whisper. You strain your muscles to keep from shifting.

“Hmm? You want something?” He leans over you to place a teasing kiss on your lips.

“You know I do, come on, Cas.”

His tongue finds your right- right! - nipple.

“Cas please,” You take a deep breath. Cas likes it when you use words? You’ll give him words. “Finger me, Cas.”

He gives your breast a peck before leaning back. “That’s not going to be enough, sweetheart.”

“I won’t move, Cas. I promise. I’ll be- I’ll be-”

Cas smirks at you, his thumb unrelenting in its lazy circling of your clit. His other hand leaves your thigh to push his pants and boxer down enough so he can grasp his cock and stroke it leisurely. The sight has you moaning and purposefully not moving. Cas does feel you contract around his finger though and he lets out a small laugh.

“You’re so needy, baby. You’re desperate for it aren’t you?”

“ Yes, Castiel. ”

His full name on your lips is a rarity and it has Cas grunting out a fuck as he picks up the pace of the hand on his dick. The hand on you keeps torturing you just as slowly.

“What will you do to get it, hm? What are you going to do for me?”

You’re shaking now, but it’s a tremor that Cas can’t fault you for. “Anything, Cas.”

“Will you stay still for me?”

“ Yes. ”

“Good.”

This time, Cas fucks you. His finger thrusts in and out of you at a rhythm that can get you there. A rhythm that builds you up and up with the help of his thumb still sparking pleasure out of you.

To help you not fuck up into his hand you chant his name, you probably cuss him out a little too, you might pray to God once or twice. Your fingers dig into the wood above your head and you think this is how beds are broken. You keep your eyes on Cas the whole time. Either locked with his or following the movement of his hand on his leaking cock.

Cas stops fingering you exactly once. It’s a horrible moment where you think you might have moved despite your best efforts and now Cas won’t give you more, won’t make you come. It’s a brief moment, though, and Cas just ends up pushing two fingers from the hand that had been working himself into you, curling them and going right back to his dick, using your wetness to slicken the way.

It’s so hot, it’s so fucking hot that your entire body flares up. Your clit fucking twitches. Then the hand that had been on you all along comes back. He uses two fingers to pump into your pussy and you only feel the stretch a little because of how soaked you are, but it’s enough, hurts just right.

“You’re going to come,” Cas says, as if you were possibly unaware. “I don’t want you to worry about-” He pauses to moan. “About moving when you do.”

You don’t even manage a full nod before your orgasm overtakes you. It’s a good one too, the kind that you think might be fading but then peaks again. Cas is saying something all the while but it’s only when you come down that you tune into the words.

“-so good. Look so good. Feel so good. So good for me. Fucking, perfect. You’re- fuck! ”

Cas comes too, mostly on your stomach, some of it on your breast.

He leans back on his heels in his kneeling position to catch his breath but once he does his eyes are on you. You smile lazily up at him, still basking in the afterglow. Cas moves up your body, gives your left nipple a lick picking up a drop of come, then kisses you.

After a few moments, he slumps beside you and tugs you into his arms, bringing yours down, unbothered by the come he’s smearing between you. “You did such a good job, baby.” He tells you. “How are you feeling?” He brushes his fingers along your back soothingly.

You’re still sporting a silly grin when you tell him, “Really good.”

“That’s right, you did really good.”

You knock his shoulder with barely any force. “No, Ass, I feel good. That’s what happens after you get off.”

“That is the general course of action.”

You can’t be bothered with thinking up a retort and simply nuzzle into his arms. “You did really good, too, Cas”

The hand at your back stutters for a fraction of a second. “Thank you,” He says.

You push yourself up to your forearms and you’re honest-to-god impressed that they don’t give out under you because your entire body feels like jello. “I mean it. Since this morning, you were really patient and I appreciate that.”

He kisses you, long and soft and then he says, “You want another shower?”

“Yes, please, but I don’t want to get my hair wet again.”

You two lay there for a long while before moving to get cleaned up.

Later, Cas lays on the bed in boxers, his arm slung above his head. The sight of him is distracting, all long lines and taut muscles stretched out along the mattress, so you focus on getting yourself dressed.

“Have you seen my socks,” You ask as soon as you’ve buttoned your jeans, bending down to pick up your bra and t-shirt.

“I put them in your boots last night, right before we went to sleep.” True, they’d been scattered in your haste to get in each other’s pants.

“Cool, thanks.”

Castiel watches you slip your clothing on and almost audibly grunts in objection. There’s a little bruising on your left nipple and it looks so good on you. He wonders if it’s too early for rules like no bras in the house .

“We need to talk.” He tells you, sitting up.

You’re tucking Cas’ undershirt in your pants when he says this. You look up at him curiously and tap the first drawer of the dresser behind you. “About this?”

“Yes, about how it was for you.”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” You glide over to him, sit on the bed, one foot tucked under you and the other on the floor, mirroring him. You’re close enough that he can place his hands on your hips so he does. “You said it was good, I said it was good.”

“I think we’re a little more clear headed now, I want to make sure that’s still how you feel about it. I want to know if you’re interested in doing it again, in pursuing this further.”

You grin at him. “I’m very,” You push him onto his back, again. “Very.” You straddle his hips. “Very.” You kiss his lips. “Interested.”

He grins back at you. “In that case…” Cas flips the two of you, so that he’s the one doing the straddling.

“No, no,” You laugh, smiling the kind of smile you can’t suppress. “I gotta get going, Cas.”

He lifts his head from where he’s kissing your neck and frowns. “You’re leaving?”

“Gotta. Singer wants a diagnostic report on the latest variable shift by wednesday and I’ve barely started looking at the results from the last test run. Files are back home too.”

Cas leans down so his body presses into yours more firmly. “Let me ask again, give you a chance to change your mind. You’re leaving?”

You chuckle and crane your neck to peck him. “Yeah, Cas.”

He grunts and rolls off of you so you can get up.

“I have to go water my elephant ear, too, it’s been a few days.”

Cas sits up quickly. “You’re supposed to keep the soil of that plant damp at all times.”

“Huh,” You say with a teasing look. “Guess you aren’t the botanical expert you fancy yourself after all. In the winter, they say to let it dry out for rest periods. Something about fertilization, or whatever. I researched it.”

Your studio is nothing like Cas’ place. The entire thing could fit in his bedroom. It’s ill lit with the one window and the hanging overlight that seems to perpetually be swinging at least a little. Whatever light does get in gets swallowed by the exposed brick of the walls.

The window is directly across your front door. Below it, there’s a low and wide filing cabinet that you also use as a side table. To the left there’s your bed and at its foot a trunk. There’s a door on each wall that form that corner of the room, one leads to the bathroom, the other, the one next to the entrance, to a closet.

To the right of the front door there’s a dining table for four pushed up against the wall, with two chairs tucked in. There are a couple things on it at the moment, including a reading light, because it’s where you eat but it’s also where you get work done. The wall that runs perpendicular to the table-desk-hybrid is the kitchen. It’s lined with one long countertop that’s only interrupted by a sink, a refrigerator and a stove. In front of the very last cupboard, below the window, beside the filing cabinet, there’s the colocasia plant Cas got you, two months into the relationship. It’s more commonly called elephant ear plant or angel wings plant, because of the shape of the leaves.

You can afford a bigger place but you want to pay off your student loans as quickly as possible and rent seems like the best place to cut back expenses.

You kick off your boots and drape your coat over one of the chairs, then pick up a half full bottle from the table. You cross the room in roughly six steps and pour the water into the pot, cooing at it. You’d read a study that compared the growth and health of plants that received compliments daily and plants that were yelled at. You were skeptical of the results the article shared but figured you have nothing to lose.

You change into sweats but keep Cas’ shirt on and get to work. You get half of what Singer’s expecting of you done before switching tasks and finishing the powerpoint, even running through the presentation you’ve prepared once. It’s when you’re back on the report, with tabs that have nothing to do with it open on your computer, that Cas texts you.

What are you doing?

Working on the part.obs. for singer (procrastinating)

You do that a lot.

Aha are you going to call me a bad girl?

Fuck, why would you say that? Here you are having a very normal conversation. Not everything is about sex no matter how much Freud disagrees. It takes Cas longer to reply.

Would you like me to?

You think for a moment before replying. No

This time his response is immediate. Good, because you’re perfect.

w/e ur lame

That’s just not true. And then: What are you wearing?

Ahahahahaha shut up Cas

:P did you eat?

Not yet. I kind of ate ur kitchen earlier

Come over, I’m making carbonara

Im starting to see a pattern

Really? Which one is that?

The data points to an undeniable correlation between you trying to feed me and you trying to have sex with me.

Data doesn’t lie.

:P I think im gonna crash early

Worn out huh? How did that happen? You can imagine Cas smirking as he wrote this text.

This asshole where I work fifty shades of greyed me

Lucky guy. I bet he’s hung.

His ego is definitely inflated. Gnight cas

Goodnight

Read it on ao3

Chapters on tumblr: ONE  TWO  THREE  FOUR  FIVE  SIX

These lovely people asked to be tagged in this story (or my writing in general): @xleggo-my-elevenx @nickylarrywigetta @trexrambling @impandagrl @hannahindie [let me know if you’d like me to stop doing that]

[hxrryspotter]

evak beach hc part 1: with @tarjeiandhenrik (who thought they owned a beach asdjk)

isak doesn’t really like the beach. he hates it when he gets too hot, he hates the sand and how he’s gotta re-apply sunscreen like every 20 minutes, the kids, how his snapback ends up being a sand bucket

“even!! but they totally stole my fucking snapback what the fuCK!” - “i thought it was jonas’ snapback?” - tha- that’s not the point!”

hJKLDFJDSLKJFDSLKF BUT SNAKES CAN SWIM WHY DOES HE HATE IT - viki thnx how could i forget snakesak.

even on the other hand, loves it. and isak loves even.

cue: beach shenanigans, or alternatively called: Boy In Love With His Boyfriend And Would Sacrifice His Skin For Him.

isak gets burned easy, you cant tell me he doesn’t. therefore re-applying is hell on earth bc the sunscreen ends up mixing with the sand that never manages to leave his hands and legs, and it just feels like rubbing sandpaper onto your skin and isak is Grouchy.

on the topic of re-applying tho, isak only starts to hate it a little less when even ends up helping him rub sunscreen onto his back. (imagine even making dirty jokes by e) and also having to rub sunscreen onto even’s back too.

although, he thinks he could also get used to watching even watch him as he rubs sunscreen onto his stomach (he’s not gonna make even do that for him when he can obviously reach his own stomach, he doesn’t have an excuse…)

but yeah he grumbles about it but the more he does it, he becomes determined and very focused on the job at hand and then he randomly looks up mid-sentence to see even just *heart eyes, sex eyes* at him and lololol isak can’t use sunburn as an excuse to why he’s so red right now but suddenly he doesn’t mind re-applying so much if even won’t stop looking at him like that.

don’t think about the time where even tries to recreate their pool kiss at the beach. it doesn’t go a well as their first one did lbr.

isak can’t deny feeling giddy that even wants to do it again bc that moment is so special to isak bc it’s where all this finally started. where they took that chance.

that feeling soon leaves as isak’s eyes start burning bc beach water is nasty af and the moment gets ruined bc even is still trying to kiss isak but isak cant see and he ends up laughing and yelping bc his eyes fucking sting and even this is all your fault why couldn’t we go to a pool instead!

but isak’s not mad at even, if anything he’s glad they get to be silly idiots together and he wouldn’t trade this day for the world.

despite isak hating the heat, they have a lot of fun that day. they race each other, even also makes them do the underwater challenge again bc isak swears he can do better than last time.

he doesn’t.

even going underwater and staying there for too long before popping up and startling isak, “you’re so dramatic. oh my god why am i with you???” - “for my giraffe genes, obviously!”

ahem speaking of giraffe genes, even most definitely gives isak a piggy back ride in the water.

isak is still kind of hesitant tho bc they’re still in public but even notices his unease so he walks them over to a more secluded part of the beach and he can feel the tension from isak just melt away as he wraps his arms more securely around even’s shoulders, giving his neck a small kiss.

even’s a sappy guy and all he wants to do is to be able to look at isak so isak on his back isn’t really helping bc he can’t see him??? cant say whatever he always says to make isak’s cheeks flush red and for the smile to tilt up, for his eyes to go all soft and drowsy. 

so even rearranges them so isak is facing him again and they slowly drift through the water, touching, but not all over each other like before; talking about nothing and everything.

exchanging relaxed kisses and words, sometimes stopping to just take in the moment and the quiet and the sound of each other’s breathing with isak’s head resting on even’s shoulder and even’s chin on the top of isak’s head.

when their moment gets broken though, even is sure to make isak race him back towards the shore with barely a warning. even always wins.

by the time they get out of the water and back towards their towels to lay down and dry, isak notices his snapback filled to the brim with sand and his scandalized gasp has even looking over worriedly before bursting into laughter. “… even… is there a way i can wash a snapback?”

imagine isak and even laying side by side on their towels and facing each other. their eyes half closed bc of the sun but they still think the other looks as beautiful as ever. even isn’t shy to say it though while isak holds back a bit and is content to just stare at even silently. 

until even’s body jerks suddenly and isak is all ????? but even just reaches for the sunscreen and starts re-applying while isak whines in annoyance and turns onto his back, stuffing his face into his towel.

his body jumps tho, when he feels even’s hands on his back, re-applying for him and his heart swells bc as he turns his head to watch, even’s tongue is curled, sticking out of his mouth, as he focuses on making sure isak won’t get burnt, smiling up at him when their eyes meet.

[vkndr]

master cheryl x veronica post

This is my master post about cheryl x veronica relationship up to episode 7 (chapter seven: in a lonely place), so bare with my madness and you’ll see what I see.

Just have in mind that:

♛ I truly believe that Veronica Lodge is into girls, and that she’s at least pansexual or bisexual (but I can’t say that the writers know this too)

♛ I’m a little bit crazy and sometimes I see things where there’s none, so excuse me for that in advancement.

♛ I’ll be using what I think it’s foreshadow, popular references and reading between the lines.

♛ I’ll also be pointing out why I believe Veronica is queer (specially with Betty).

♛ I made this to my express my hopes that Cheryl and Veronica will become canon in terms of romantic feelings.

And please, join me into expanding this master post. Discuss with me and other all about it. Point me out if I’m wrong or extremely right about something. I love feedback.

So, I decided yesterday to do binge re-watching of all episodes, and I wrote while I was watching it. So here it is:

♛ Chapter One: The River’s Edge

♡ In the intro Jughead says ❝Get closer tho, and you’ll start seeing the shadows underneath❞ and that’s exactly what I’ll be doing here.

♡ Veronica is extremely happy finding a gay friend (Kevin) in Riverdale. This could mean a lot more than the cliche rich girl + her gay friend, after all if Veronica’s gay she will want to have another queer with her. The queer kids gotta stick together.

♡ Like someone already pointed out #There’s no heterosexual explanation for Cheryl turning around at the very moment Veronica comes to find a table, when none of her minions is even the slightest turned to see if the new girl was there. Like that’s a fucking gaydar or something. And she definitely checks Veronica out. And on the other hand Reggie turns like he’s not even interested. Mmm.

♡ The famous B&V kiss actually can mean A LOT. 

Firstly, I think that V had a crush on B since the begging for sure.

V was okay with doing it, like it meant nothing new to her; she’s so used to kissing girls that it didn’t make the difference for her. But she thought it would mean something completely new and bold to Cheryl and her minions, when actually it doesn’t. Cheryl rolls her eyes, implying that what she saw did not impressed her and that she was bored. If you didn’t caught that then she throws that at their faces saying  ❝Faux lesbian kissing hasn’t been taboo since 1994❞. This whole scene could be queerbaiting like many thinks it was, but this single scene could’ve also been done to show that neither Veronica or Cheryl were shocked with the idea of lesbianism; that is actually something normal for both of them.

♡ The aftermath that comes after the kiss is interesting as well. Veronica at some point says ❝I know what you need, Cheryl, because I know who you are. You would rather people fear than like you, so you traffic in terror and intimidation. You’re rich, so you’ve never been held accountable, but I’m living proof. That certainty, that entitlement you wear on your head like a crown? It won’t last. Eventually, there will be a reckoning. Or… Maybe that reckoning is now. And maybe, that reckoning… Is me.❞ Do I really need to say more? Veronica is the closest that Cheryl (besides maybe Josie) has that have been through most of the things she has. No one can understand Cheryl best than V can. And she just said that she's freaking messiahs or something that came to change the reality that Cheryl’s trapped into. 

♡ V also says that she used to be a spoiled rich bitch ice princess, and that is the perfect way to describe Cheryl.  ❝I was like Cheryl. I was worst than Cheryl…..  I made a pact with myself to use this as an opportunity to become maybe, hopefully, a better version of myself.❞ Betty replies  ❝That’s a lot of pressure.❞ and I believe that’s implied to Cheryl and Veronica relationship as well, and it’s what’s going to happen. Veronica will try to help Cheryl through what she’s going though, she’ll try to have Cheryl become the better version of herself. And that’s going to be a lot of pressure, it won’t be easy. 

♡ Betty after says ❝When Polly and Jason got together… It meant everything to her and nothing to him, and… And things got super intense and weird and toxic and my mom turned on Polly. Said Polly wasn’t her daughter anymore, said all these awful things to her. Jason hurt Polly, but it’s my mom who broke her.❞ It could also be a foreshadow to Cheryl’s and Veronica future relationship. I’ll link this to Madelaine’s interview later on this post.

♛ Chapter Two: A Touch of Evil 

♡ Veronica is poor af right now and she still manages to get Betty flowers and cupcakes flown from New York? #There’s no heterosexual explanation #So gay

♡ Veronica was checking Betty’s ass at practice or?  #There’s no heterosexual explanation #So gay

♡ ❝Most of the time the people we like don’t like us back. Romeo and Juliet are the exception, not the rule.❞ Besides being my favorite quote so far, I can’t help myself relating this line to something that Madelaine said in a interview, that I’ll link to it later on this post.

♡ Cheryl calling Veronica closet monster I believe I don��t even have to mention the ambiguity here.

♡ Veronica calling Cheryl the anti-christ in the first episode and Cheryl calling Veronica the evil incarnated in the second episode. It must be love.

♡ Cheryl having her panic attack and Veronica going after her just proves my point that Veronica will try to help Cheryl become her best version. Why in the hell would she help if she despises Cheryl likes it’s implied in the first couple episodes? This scene breaks that.

♡ In the begging of the episode Veronica is more than eager to pair up with Betty in class, but in the end, when the principal and the sheriff comes for Cheryl we can see that Veronica paired up with her. Why if they’re not friends or anything? Ar this point Veronica is closer to Jughead after the core four hang out @ Pop’s than she’s with Cheryl.

♛ Chapter Three: Body Double

♡ When Veronica’s crying about the nasty comments about her, we can see a comment by Cheryl ❝I usually pity the poor, but❞ and Cheryl’s comment isn’t that bad, but if I was Veronica I’d be hating everyone who commented.

♡ The most awesome scene in this goddamn series: party’s @ Ethel’s. I just want to say a huge thank you very much for who created this scene, ‘cause it definitely made me realized that Veronica Lodge is for sure into girls. That look that she gives Betty can only be translated as ‘OMFG, UR SO HOT I WANT U SO BAD RN’, everyone can see it.

♡ I find it rather interesting that Veronica couldn’t sleep after torturing Chuck. Betty I understand, she went full psycho over him, but why V? She should’ve slept like a baby after getting the truth out of that jackass. My guess is that she was so overwhelmed with her attraction for Betty.

♛ Chapter Four: The Last Picture Show

♡ Veronica preferences on films ❝I vote for anything starring Audrey Hepburn. Or Cate Blanchett.❞ Me too girl, specially the Children’s Hour and Carol (both LGBT films with main lesbian characters with Audrey and Cate respectively)

♡ Cheryl saying ❝You are a Lodge, after all, and Lodges are known to have sticky fingers.❞ God, this sounded so dirty in my mind that I can’t even.

♡ #There’s no heterosexual explanation for Cheryl out of the blue deciding to sit with Kevin and Veronica at the drive-in after all that feud between the two of them. Like she just decided to sit there? SO RANDOM and weird. I don’t even know how to explain because I don’t even know what happened. It’s clear that Veronica couldn’t care less about Cheryl, trying to get her out to get more refill, but all Cheryl does is to ask Kevin to fetch more and when he does and Veronica starts to get away from Cheryl SHE JUST GET’S CLOSER TO VERONICA LIKE WHAT¿ SHE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE VERONICA. #So gay #So gay #So gay

♛ Chapter Five: Heart of Darkness

♡ Cheryl attacks Veronica while handing her the invitation for Jason's funeral ‘cause she’s Cheryl and Veronica is used to it. But Betty tries to reason her [Cheryl] behavior to Veronica, implying that Veronica actually got upset by Cheryl comments.

♡ Veronica decides that she’s done with her feud with Cheryl and the only way for it to end is by becoming friends. Or frenemies. Or girlfriends. And Cheryl accepts it in a heartbeat. For someone that despises Veronica she should at the very least five it a time to think about it, but instead she invites Veronica to her home, for a freaking sleepover. Too fast, like it was already planned. Veronica makes a face of ‘FML, if that’s what it takes for you to sop fighting’ but agrees to it.

♡ Penelope ❝Cheryl invited you. I have no idea why you’re here.❞ and to that Veronica replies ❝Me neither. I thought there’d be other girls.❞ and Cheryl doesn’t even bother to answer. # Random Cheryl moment

♡ Do I really need to mention the lingerie? Like c’mon, I know that’s to show that they are fancy girls, with the same background, but did they really needed to do that? Really?

♡ Let me just say that one of Veronica Lodge’s favorite hobbies is to look at pretty girls lips, and gurl, she does that not once, not twice, but four time in the gap of 5 minutes with Cheryl.  #There’s no heterosexual explanation #So gay

♡ Veronica insists ❝Why did you invite me tonight? Why not Tina? Or Ginger? Aren’t they your besties?❞ And Cheryl gives her the truth  ❝And yet, that night at the pep rally, after I had my panic attack, you helped me. Not them.❞ Okay, so Cheryl’s grateful for that but even after it happened she continued to treat Veronica like crap, like she forgot what Veronica did to her.

♡ How did they bonded over night so hard for Veronica to feel like she was that close enough to touch Cheryl’s hair like that? # Weird # Random Veronica moment

♡ Let’s just say that protective!Veronica is my favorite. And she was like that A LOT in this episode with Cheryl.

♡ She was so worried about Cheryl that she followed her and Penelope at a very private moment. I just think there’s a much deeper meaning in this scene where we can see Veronica looking to a broken Cheryl through the door crevice than I can put to words.

♛ Chapter Six: Faster, Pussycats! Kill! Kill! 

(None Cheryl in this episode)

♡ Veronica holding Josie’s arms? # So gay In a regular squad you wouldn’t do that.

♡ And there’s the famous caption of that choker Veronica was using during the Pussycats performance. It’s exactly the same we see Cheryl using in episode 3. There’s who believes that they are actually the same and Cheryl gave it to her. I see other two options: they both have the same taste in accessories (that’s also because you can always see some girl at Riverdale wearing a choker, what’s with this town obsession with chokers?) or Veronica actually stole it. That would be kind funny given the whole Cheryl’s speech about searching bags in case of robbery in episode 5.

♛ Chapter Seven: In a Lonely Place

♡ Veronica really close to Josie at the club # So gay 

So those are my thought while re-watching the episodes. Now it’s my thought about a certain interview that I find rather interesting that I already mentioned in a other post. 

In this interview they asked Madelaine (Cheryl) if her character would get a love interest this season, and she said: YES. Cheryl will be having a love interest, later the season, more like a fling. She dares to say that everyone will love, man I can’t think of anyone besides Veronica that people are rooting Cheryl to be with. She even says that people will go crazy about it (read it WE’LL GIVE YOU CHERONICA), there’s no character already introduced that matches Cheryl. None. Only Veronica and a little bit of Josie. But no guy. People are against Cheryl involving romantically with Archie (maybe people will agree to it if it means Archie doesn’t get in the way of Bughead and Beronica), but anyway, let me link you guys to what I’ve said earlier:

♡ Betty after says ❝When Polly and Jason got together… It meant everything to her and nothing to him, and… And things got super intense and weird and toxic and my mom turned on Polly. Said Polly wasn’t her daughter anymore, said all these awful things to her. Jason hurt Polly, but it’s my mom who broke her.❞ It could also be a foreshadow to Cheryl’s and Veronica future relationship. [Chapter One: The River’s Edge]

Madelaine said that Cheryl doesn’t want a relationship. Maybe if (when) she gets with Veronica she won’t be ready for it. It’ll fell like it means everything to Veronica and nothing to Cheryl. And like it’s the CW they will fuck it up and will become a weird and toxic relationship and stuff. Idk, this is really a personal weird post-high thought. You shouldn’t take me seriously here.

♡ ❝Most of the time the people we like don’t like us back. Romeo and Juliet are the exception, not the rule.❞ Besides being my favorite quote of this series so far I can’t help myself relating this line to something that Madelaine said in a interview.

Madelaine said exactly  ❝But of course, Cheryl doesn’t get what she wants because why would she ever?❞ Maybe her feelings is not mutual, maybe Veronica won’t be down for it.

Well, those are just what I think and hope will happen. As long as it becomes canon, cause seriously, they’d be the dumbest if they didn’t made a lesbian couple become canon in this series. Give us lady kisses. 

And last but no least I recall seeing some people making parallels between Riverdale and Gossip Girl, and what I already saw is: Veronica/Blair, Betty/Serena, Jughead/Dan, then there’s Cheryl and Archie left and I think Archie/Nate is obvious, so it’s left Chuck for our dearest Cheryl. And just in case you don’t know or don’t remember, Chuck and Blair, Dan and Serena were endgame. Long live Cheronica and Bughead.

Again guys, give me your feed back and also if you guys could answer a quiz I’ve created about LGBTQ+ representation on TV Series would mean A LOT to me, and I’d be extremely grateful.