#and I did some art for hana's fic too!

[marigoldendragon]

Lilia is now banned from visits to the equestrian club.

Collab with @hanafubukki ! I had HEAPS of fun with this one. The amount of dad jokes Hana came up with was WILD. She truly has a gift :3 We had waaaaay too many ideas just to fit into one comic or story X) expect more dad-fashion Lilia in the future ~

Also go check out her fic! https://www.tumblr.com/hanafubukki/749323835714748416/authors-notes-marigoldendragon-and-i-did-a?source=share (and her other ones too while your there)

🧡

[tojiwrd]

6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!

word count 4k

a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3

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Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.

Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 

It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?

“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”

Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.

“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 

You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 

“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”

You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.

Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.

“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”

You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”

You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.

She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 

Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 

Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”

You froze, stunned and silent. 

“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—

“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 

“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 

Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”

You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 

“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”

You were sure you had moved past everything. 

After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 

No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.

Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 

‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 

You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 

You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 

You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?

As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.

“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”

You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 

“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”

“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”

You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”

“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”

You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”

“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”

“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.

But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”

You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”

“But she—”

“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”

You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 

Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 

And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 

By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.

When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 

“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.

He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”

And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 

“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 

You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”

Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 

“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’

“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.

His reply was instant. “Anything.”

“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”

It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”

“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”

“No. How…”

“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”

He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 

“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”

A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 

“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 

“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”

“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”

“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”

And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.

“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“Have that chance at being happy?”

You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 

“I do.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”

You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 

He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 

Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 

“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”

And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

November Creator of the Month: Lizzybeth1986

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @lizzybeth1986 We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Lizzy, absolutely 😁

*Center art by @sazanes

More below...

When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started playing mid 2017, I think. I played the flagship books (TF, TCaTF, MW), and def preferred TF at the time.

When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the Tumblr fandom in 2017, around the time of the TRR finale. Mostly because the Liam hate at the time was intense and I wanted to write metas about why Liam was, in fact, not “a dick who betrayed the MC” 😂

I did have a Tumblr account before that (made it in 2015 to follow Bollywood film posts), but never actually used it.

How did you pick your blog name?

I was lazy af so it was my middle name plus my birth year haha

Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it! 

I started out with a couple reblogs, but my first actual post was about the romance points mechanism in TRR1. There was a point in the middle of the book where one nice word to Drake would give you an automatic romance point, and I was like, “Huh??? Either treat him like shit or risk him catching feels for me? Is that how it is???”. Thankfully, that stopped after two chapters. After that, I did an essay series analyzing Liam’s actions in the finale called “The Crown, The King and The Flame.” Romance Points Post The Crown and the Flame

How long have you been writing fanfiction?

Almost 6 years now! I started doing Liam fics around the beginning of TRR2.

What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

I’m the most invested in TRR and PM, but between the two I’d probably say PM is my fave book overall. But yeah, my favourite book to write about would be TRR, because Liam, Hana and Kiara are such fantastic characters to write about! (Hayden and Sloane, too, but I’m still in the process of getting comfortable writing them).

Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

It was Keychains, my two part fic series featuring my MC and Liam. It was set around the time the MC was waiting in the airport in TRR2, just before Maxwell and Bertrand intervene. It had a follow up with Liam’s PoV too.

I really like it. It included some really good hc’s I made at the time, like Esther buying an apple keychain to represent Cordonia at the same time, and Liam calling her his wife in Greek and Esther not realizing what the phrase meant. I thought the pathos and slight humour was quite well-done. I can’t think of much I would want to change in the story.

Keychains 1 Keychains 2

What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

As a series – Eleanor’s Kitchen! It’s ongoing, and it’s a joy to write. I love exploring food from a cultural lens, and since Cordonia was a fictional country, I could explore a variety of ethnicities and food cultures. Liam had a literal diamond scene that explored gastrodiplomacy, and I wanted to explore his childhood and Eleanor’s friendships too.

Individually – I would say my Kiara fic “An Ear to the Ground”. Kiara is a delightful character and exploring the social season through her eyes was a real journey! I also love “The Stars (Are Out Tonight)” which explores the early days of the Sloane & Hayden friendship. I used asterisms and constellations to symbolize moments in their friendship.

Eleanor's Kitchen An Ear to the Ground The Stars (Are Out Tonight)

Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

Cordonian Waltz was definitely a surprise in terms of reception!! It was written in the style of headcanons I was seeing at the time, and I wrote it in second person. It became my most widely-read fanfic very fast, and every once in a while it would experience a major surge in readership. I enjoyed writing it and thought it was a lovely, romantic piece, but I really wasn’t expecting it to finally have 250+ reblogs out of it, and people coming and telling me this was the fic that got them into Liam x MC in the first place. I find that deeply gratifying 😍

There’s a lot of fics that I feel need more engagement and appreciation, but I can understand that those characters also don’t exactly get much of an audience. My entire PM set comes under this category; they typically get low readership. I think my Hana and Kiara fics too could do with more of an audience.

@twinkleallnight once told me that when she reads my stuff, she usually takes a long time just to ruminate on the story, and I like to believe that often, that’s why the engagement isn’t always immediate. Which I like too!! I like that some of my stuff can make people stop and think, and I like to believe that over time, the work will have its own impact.

Cordonian Waltz PM Set

If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Probably fluff but with a lot of observation and sometimes somber reflections. I’m not that great with angst…and I’ve never actually tried smut? But maybe one day 😄

Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yes! Some of my MCs are v different from me but I always incorporate something from my life experiences in them. Like Esther taking photos of the sunset or Basil not being science oriented but still having an interest in space.

Character wise I find I put a lot of myself into a lot of the characters I write. Notably, Liam, Hana, Kiara, certain Haydens and Sloane. Liam’s love for learning, different aspects of Hana and Kiara’s experiences as queer women, Sloane’s experiences as a neurodivergent woman, and especially my Scholar!Hayden’s (Iris) observations. I tend to incorporate a lot of my feelings and experiences more into certain canonical characters than in MCs.

What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Dialogue, I think. Especially when it’s a character I don’t relate to that much. But also sometimes when it’s a character I love but am only starting to write because then I really overthink it!

Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Hmm…probably neglected wouldn’t be the word I’d use…I just take a very long time to kickstart them 😂

But yeah, definitely my Petals and Thornes series? That’s the fic series I’m doing for Hana x Kiara, that is supposed to explore TRR2 and 3 from their PoV (with significant changes). So far I’ve only been able to do some one-shots and hcs in that universe, but I do want to start the actual series soon!

I have some essay series’ I’d love to work on too! My Hana essay series which has two essays left, The Hayden Young Project, and a possible series on the alternative Lis of TRR!

Petals and Thornes Hana Lee: A Study in Erasure

If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Hmm. A few people have asked me, actually, and while I’m not fully opposed to showing them I’ll probably take some time before I do show my work. I’ll probably overthink how much will be understandable to a reader who doesn’t have the context of the source, and what they may not understand.

What to show them first? I’m not sure! Maybe the smaller ones first, like Cordonian Waltz. Or my RCD fic Snowstorms, because it doesn’t have more than 2-3 canon characters featuring and I do talk a little about being a closeted queer teen figuring out their sexuality through cinema, which is an overall relatable experience to some! Snowstorms

Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

In my early years I used to emulate Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s style. Much of her work that I read as a teen was pretty flowery, sometimes bordering on purple prose, and I really loved that style and tried to go that way. But now I think a variety of writers from different genres inform my writing. In terms of published authors, Jhumpa Lahiri, Helen Hoang, and non-fiction ones like Rukmini Pande, Ruby Hammad and Mikki Kendall.

In Choices fic, @callmetippytumbles for sure – a lot of the questions she was tackling with her MC in her Home series served as inspiration for some of the ideas I’ve been having in mind for Petals and Thornes. @thefirstcourtesan is a great writing buddy to have, too, and she has a knack for saying a lot in very few words! There’s also my amazing group of friends (shoutout to @cassiopeiacorvus, @thecapturedafrique, @mand-delemonde, and @beyonceswigs, as well as @twinkleallnight , @dcbbw @mariemarieohcontrary , @choicesfrog, @grapecaseschoices and @ohsnapitzlovehacker…the discussions are so good and leave some much to think about afterward 💖💖). All these discussions ALWAYS fuel my ideas and make me think out of the box.

I’ve also recently started writing polyamorous characters and relationships, and @angelasscribbles stories and resources have been such a great help in navigating that!

Home

@angelasscribbles Poly Resources

Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Haha! I’ve not even started the proper series yet but I think Petals and Thornes? But besides that maybe Eleanor’s Kitchen may work as a series idk 😄

Do you write original fiction?

I do try! I’ve done a few short stories but before I started fanfic, I did a lot of spoken word poetry and that was fun.

What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, watching video essays, spending months on hyperfixations 😂 and a little cooking. My kid’s gotten into craft recently and has succeeded in taking me down that rabbit hole too haha.

I used to be into making fruit wines but have gotten inconsistent with that over the years.

What’s your favorite emoji?

Because I have a huuuge thing for nerds – this one: 🤓

BONUS – tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

A story my mum often tells about how I got into writing, began with some good old-fashioned sibling rivalry. Apparently as a child I was notorious for writing things on the walls of our house. One day my older brother got a hardbound royal-blue covered notebook to write in, with gold lettering on the cover…and I got instantly jealous that I didn’t get one (I was 6 or 7 and already fond of telling stories). When I complained my mum made me a deal – she would get me the same notebook…IF I stopped writing on the walls and began writing in that instead 😂 It worked. My mother is a smart woman.

I love spoilers!! I will read the end of a novel I’m reading and then go back and read the rest. Sometimes I even read books all the way backwards lol.

I love romance, and my favorite tropes include second-chance romance and mutual pining while believing the other person will never love you back! Because, at heart, I’m a dramatic bitch.

[compact-turtle]

Time to know the creator!!!! <3

1st question: Are you gonna tell us some of the Yan's you have in the future?

2nd question: How are you feeling?

3rd question: What Inspired you to write, what was you're confidence/Idol?

Thank you Anon! I put both of these together since its just you asking lol! I hope that everything is going well in your life right now and you can continue to stick around!

love and appreciate you too ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

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1st question:

It's a secret but just bc its you who asked, I'll tell you <3

I'm thinking of writing a female Yan. I'm not sure what I want her to be yet. I was considering either a witch or a fairy. (both pretty cliche ik lol). The details are currently in the works but I have a general idea of where I want the story to go.

2ND QUESTION

I'm a little worried since my finals are coming up. I was going to post my 1000 followers special event after finals! So probably around the later half of may.

Also I'm probably going to have to do a 2 week haitus after I post Yandere Space Adventure pt 2 this week to prepare for finals :(

OFC, i'll still answer small questions and do small requests.

3rd QUESTION:

so the reason i started writing is a bit silly lol

During the 2020 lockdown/quarantine, I got into genshin impact hardcore. I had multiple character skins (uhh dropped 50 dollars for the Diluc one too), spent actual dollars for character banners and was AR60. Surprisingly, did my dailies everyday and was in multiple genshin impact discord servers and purchased so many genshin impact cosplays.

Genshin Impact was genuinely my life for two years. However, the enjoyment of it has gone downhill for me. I struggled to find a hobby or something to fill the void. Life for real felt empty without purpose after I stopped playing. For a while, tiktok took over but it didn't feel as fufilling.

Then I remembered in early high school how I would read and write yandere stories. (Exclusively on quotev lmao). I figured it'd be fun try Tumblr since it was a fandom staple. I never had it because I was always way too confused on how it worked. So this is my first Tumblr account!

I would just use my blog to read some stories. Before bed, I'd have a million ideas for yandere stories. I never thought I'd write anything since these were just cute stories in my head. It wasn't until a month later that I decided to start writing somethings.

-----

Some of the pages that inspired me to write were

@running-with-kn1ves <- there's nothing bad that they could every write.

@suiana <- first every yandere tumblr blog that I encountered and spent days consuming their works lol

@bunny-yan <- Their idea of a reincarnated hero shook me to the core. I loved the idea of a darling who just couldn't put up with it anymore.

@bxnnyblue (RIP blog, will always be loved <3)

@darkbluekies <- I got super attached to their works about Hedwig. Something about a rich girl taking care of me just hits different.

@darling--core <- I ate their Yan! Ceo and Yan! Criminal work up. I also enjoy their writing in general.

@moyazaika <- What if I said I loved everything about their works! Thx for sharing your stories for the world

@hana-no-seiiki <- An educated scholar who's talented at everything from academics to writing fics (uhhh also 100/10 art skills) (also their new fix about feroze x eve just came out)

@obsessivevoidkitten <- Loved their series about the Yandere Goblin Shark!!

[lizzybeth1986]

WIP: The OCs of "Out of the Chrysalis"

So the fic I'm currently doing for HLAW...is a "Hana tries speed dating courtesy of Maxwell" fic in my P&Tverse haha, because I didn't want to have her plunging into her One Big Romance before getting the space to figure out who she is, sexuality wise, and finding a community of sorts.

One hc I always had was that Maxwell figured out Hana was interested in women by the time they became friends, and basically wanted her to have the experience of dating. He's a guy who winds up remaining friends with his exes, so he definitely talks to them and the people Hana secretly dates (because she's part of Madeleine's court and expected to catch a suitor the regular way) during the Applewood-Italy-Paris leg of the tour are either people he has dated before, or friends of people he has dated and is still friends with. Or just friends. Basically, people he trusts.

Along with being bi I hc her as demisexual, so this fic is about her discovering that too. So five of these people she dates, and two of them she basically has very illuminating conversations with.

So here goes! OC character sheets under the cut

Bethany James

Faceclaim: Vidya Vox

From: Cormery Isle originally, but now lives in Applewood

Pronouns & Sexuality: she/her, lesbian

Profession: Runs a bakery

Headcanons:

• is a friend of someone Maxwell dated during a stay at Applewood.

• a tiny bit of her story is mentioned in "It Takes A Village", about Kiara's coming-out. She is the girl Kiara speaks to at an art exhibition at the end of that fic.

• Bethany left Cormery Isle with a friend, sensing what she was experiencing was different to what other peers seemed to be experience (she'd find out eventually that some of them were bi and equally scared as her). She was only 16 then. She came to Castelserraillan which was always hailed as a VERY safe space for the Cordonian LGBTQ community in general, and had a really, really memorable experience during their Pride Month.

• She moved to Applewood at the age of 20. Loves the farming community and tries to support local farmers there with a pie festival in the autumn months.

• Like most people everywhere, cannot stand Lord Neville Vancouer.

Angel Diaz

Faceclaim: Kehlani Parris

From: Applewood

Pronouns and Sexuality: they/them, pansexual

Profession: Tattoo artist

Headcanons:

• In my hcs Maxwell has a better hippo tattoo now coz I decided to make this character his tattoo artist, and there is NO WAY I'm going to have them be the face behind that awful clipart excuse of a canon tattoo.

This is P&T!Maxwell's tattoo btw:

Has the right amount of goofy, just not lazily done. But whatever, Maxwell got the clipart one as a teen but upgraded it to this one with Angel's encouragement and skills. He's still a bit embarrassed to show it because what will Bertrand say!

• Angel was always a gifted artist, and their parents enrolled them on scholarship at Castelserraillan's premium University for Fine Arts. But it was there that they got fascinated with tattoo art. It gave their parents quite the shock when they made that their profession and it took them a few years to come around to the idea.

• Like Bethany, Angel was also part of the queer scene early on - but because they were actually staying there they could get involved in the community.

• Maxwell and Angel did briefly date.

• Angel loves to dance. You need an eager person to do crazy spins for a flashmob? They're there.

Andrea Melis

Faceclaim: Alessandro Mahmood

From: Sardinia. Born to a Sardinian father and an Egyptian mother. Currently stays in Capri.

Pronouns and Sexuality: he/him, bisexual

Profession: Translator

Headcanons:

• Knows a variety of languages. Italian, Spanish, Arabic, German, French being just a few of them.

• Mostly translates books. His favourite project so far was translating a food memoir by a famous food writer from Domvallier, Cordonia, from English and Arabic to a couple other languages.

• Has developed a YouTube channel to introduce beginners to Italian and Arabic, since those are the languages he knows most intimately.

• He and Maxwell hoped to be serious in their early 20s, but it didn't work out. Took a while before they could get back to their vibes as friends again but they are now at a good place with each other platonically.

Noèmie Dubois

Faceclaim: Agathe Bonitzer

From: Paris.

Pronouns and Sexuality: she/her, bisexual aromantic

Profession: Boutique owner

Headcanons:

• Loves wearing black

• Loves car racing

• Has two moms. Came out as a teen to her moms first.

• Most people know her as a very chilled out person. Very relaxed.

• Dated Maxwell casually a couple years back, but realized Maxwell and her friend Helene were unknowingly catching feelings for each other, so gently veered him in her direction 😂 Worked out well for all three of them.

Hugo Lefevre

Faceclaim: François Arnaud

From: Loire, but stays in Paris.

Pronouns and Sexuality: he/him, pansexual

Profession: Museum curator but used to be a tour guide in his early days.

Headcanons:

• Majored in art history

• Shy and a bit of a loner

• Was a tour guide who helped Maxwell once when he was lost in Paris on a tour the court was talking. They've been friends and trusted confidantes to each other ever since.

• Loves stargazing

• Isn't out as such except to a few people. Is more comfortable that way. Doesn't like socializing much, which makes the friendship with Maxwell a real surprise. Idea of a perfect night is to sit alone in front of a fireplace with a glass of wine. He doesn't have a fireplace as such right now, so a good glass of wine will do.

--

These last two are not people Maxwell knows, but are essential to Hana's journey to discovering who she really is, romance wise.

Robin Zhou

Faceclaim: Jess Tom

From: Shanghai, but they and their folks moved to San Francisco when they were younger.

Pronouns and Sexuality: They/them, bisexual

Profession: Professional chef, hosts dinners and parties. Does cooking classes in European cuisine on the weekends.

Headcanons:

• They went to culinary school in the States but travelled back on an all-China tour that lasted a year because they felt they didn't know their home cuisine well enough.

• They know Hana's cousin, Chuntao. She took a cooking class with them and wound up loving it.

• Frequents a bar named Roxie. This is where Hana will meet them in the fic.

Doralis Perez

Faceclaim: Elizabeth Acevedo

From: Brooklyn, born to Dominican-American parents.

Pronouns and Sexuality: she/her, lesbian

Profession: Was teaching for a while, but hopes to do her Ph.D one day. Currently works at the Statue of Liberty-Ellis Island Foundation.

Headcanons:

• Remember the college friend the MC talks about when she mentions the Ramen Incident of Senior Year? That's Doralis.

• Esther and Dora were batchmates and roommates in university

• She was promised a shitload of ramen to call in that favour for Liam

• Esther never got the time to do that, obviously, but she did request her aunt Vivienne to keep that promise in her stead

• Many things Esther knows - as a cishet woman - about sexualities and being an ally, she knows through her time with Dora and their circle of friends at University.

• Dora came out to all their friends by the end of their time at University. It wasn't very easy for her initially, but the environment was such that you had multiple support groups for queer and closeted people there.

• Esther was very much a part of that journey as a close friend who lived with her. That experience also informed how she handled Hana's coming out when she returned.

• Dora loves doing craft activities and has a blog full of fun, innovative and simple craft projects for kids and their parents.

[kiljoius]

master list

Being tagged made me realize I should have a master list, so here we go

Mostly Naruto, but I dabble. I won’t be posting my old stuff so the list is a bit small, but I do have projects I’m working on!

I post everything to Ao3 here: KilJoius

And some of it is on fanfiction.net, here: KilJoius

My handle is the same on all platforms

I am an interactive writer with readers!!! If you comment, you WILL get a reply and appreciation. Feedback is life. Feedback is love. Always comment on fics (as well as all creative works, art, gif sets, roleplay, etc.) you like <3333

Naruto

It Was Okay Series

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

Small Love

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

When she first gave him a flower, he ate it. Or: a series of KibaHina/Team 8 one shots and drabbles.

It Was Okay

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

When she stuttered, it was okay. When she blushed, it was okay. When she fainted, it was okay. But when she cried, it wasn't okay.

Plaything

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

Pure Smut

Truth in Change

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

A series of one-shots/drabbles of a domestic KibaHina family.

Trapped In My Mind

Ao3 Link

KibaHina

“Hinata…” Naruto spoke quietly, scanning her face. He hesitantly moved forward before opening his arms. Her stomach did somersaults, her heart shot into her throat. It took everything she had, every ounce of will power not to pass out. No, her second instinct was to turn on her heel and bolt. Run far, far away… A girl in love is a fool.

Accepted

Ao3 Link

Team 8/Shino-centric

Abandonment issues were always present in Shino as Kiba, Hinata, and Kurenai knew. It would take a very long time for him to finally reveal exactly why that was, but in the meantime, they always did their best to ensure he felt included. Kiba often invited him on walks with Akamaru. Hinata taught him how to press flowers. Kurenai personally trained with him, as his own clan was often too busy to train with him like Kiba did with Hana or Hinata did with her father or Neji. They didn’t realize how much it meant to Shino.

Clan Education

Ao3 Link

Team 8

“While I’m gone, I want you three to visit each other’s homes and educate one another on your clans.” This was the instruction left to them by Kurenai as she was due to embark on an A-rank mission with Asuma and Gai. They had been on a team together for about four weeks now, and Kurenai was disappointed to find they hadn’t bonded as well as she had hoped. Kiba was still adverse to Shino’s beetles, Shino was still adverse to Akamaru, and Hinata was adverse to speaking louder than a whisper.

Thank You

Ao3 Link

KonoHana

Hanabi finds herself babysitting Mirai temporarily, and may have bit off more than she can chew. A certain Sarutobi comes to her aid.

Tag

Ao3 Link

KonoHana

She was the firework, sparking in the shadow of his leaves. He was the brat, bathing in her sun. Somehow, she was always following after him. And he was always waiting for her.

Or: Watching Konohamaru and his team wreak havoc around town, Hanabi desperately wants to know what it’s like to be a kid. Follows Hanabi and Konohamaru from academy students to sensei, a fully fleshed out story.

Cookies & Hot Chocolate

Ao3 Link

KonoHana

Just as snow touches the ground of the Leaf, Konohamaru is faced with a very important mission: bring hot chocolate to Hanabi. Just as importantly, Hanabi also has a mission: help her niece deliver cookies to every villager in the Leaf.

Year of the OTP (KonoHana) - Series

Ao3 Link

KonoHana

12 separate one-shots of KonoHana, one for each month following the Year of the OTP prompt list.

Prettiest Girl in the World

Ao3 Link

KonoHana

During a time of relative peace, missions were becoming more and more focused on criminals and illegal activity. Konohamaru and Hanabi are assigned a mission to scout out an illegal gambling ring. January Prompt: Fake Dating

Happiness, Her Whole World

Ao3 Link

SasuHina

He was her whole world, at one time. Now her brother is dead. And she wants him gone. Or: Hinata and Sasuke had always been together as members of sister clans. When he returns, she's unsure of how to handle it.

Stardew Valley

The View From Down Here

Ao3 Link

Fem!OC x Shane, light Fem!OC x Harvey

The view from up high was just so charming. What isn't charming is having no clue what you're doing, getting swept up in town drama, and being woken up at 6 am on the fucking dot every morning by nosy neighbors. From up high, it was scenic. From down here, it was bleak.

Euphoria

Suddenly Sundown

Ao3 Link

Fezco x Lexi

"Damn Lexi...how you always do that?" "Do what?" "Make me fuckin' crazy." Lexi bit her lip again, just to tease him.

Coming Soon

You're Pretty When You Do Not Speak

KonoHana

Ao3 Link

“Anyway, seriously. Can you believe Udon kissed a girl before me?” Hanabi thinks she might seal one of her own chakra points in the hopes it will force her to black out. She kneels down next to him as he stares up at the ceiling with a grimace. She grabs his cheeks with one hand, forcefully, and glares at him. “I’m so sick of hearing about this.” “Wha—?” he mumbles, lips puckered by her hand. She thinks he actually looks kind of cute like this, being put in his place. Not that she’ll ever let him know that. She squeezes his cheeks a little tighter. “If I kiss you, will you shut up?” February prompt: "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

Cyberpunk 2077: Edgerunners? Something with Rebecca

[yonkimint]

I just wanted to say that I loved this smau so much. I loved the angst, the drama, the different friendships, really everything about it 🤎 I was shocked at the plot twist of taehyung going to Paris for 6 months, but obviously it was for the best and it worked out for everyone!!! I was so curious how you were going to write the redemption arc and how tae and y/n were going to fix their relationship, because before the whole Paris thing was brought up I was like how are these two going to fix everything and heal 😭 BUT ANYWAYS- loved this story so much from beginning to end! AND THE ART EXHIBIT- tears just tears😭😭 that was such a perfect way to show the rise and fall of oc and taehyung’s relationship from beginning to “end.” I swear if someone were to paint like 20 paintings depicting their love for me and display them all in an art exhibit, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself lmao Also love how Hana and bogum ended up together (they deserve a happy ending too)

I wanted to add too that, even though taehyung was a dummy (sometimes) and frustrated me to no end, I still really loved how you wrote his character and how he resolved things in the end. Same with oc, she wasn’t innocent the whole time either and her actions were just as frustrating, but again I still loved their personalities and how you wrote their relationship changing from friends into lovers

I’m sorry for some of the stuff that went down in between chapters. even if your characters draw many different emotions for readers, it’s never okay for anons to send hate or contempt towards you, or anyone for that matter. Glad that you turned off the anonymous option, and I hope you take care! Whenever you decide to come back for your next fic (if you do decide to ofc) I’ll be excitedly awaiting your return!🤎

Thank you 💕💕💕💕💕💕

It was definitely a roller coaster of an AU and I will admit that it was very difficult to finish but I'm so glad that I pushed through and did! I think we all needed that closure after all the emotions Tae and y/n put us through 😂

But yeah, I totally welcome all different emotions and reactions to the stuff I post but I'm not going to be attacked like that. Maybe one day I'll turn anon back on and test the waters but for now, they're off!

I'm going to take my time writing the next AU but just for your peace of mind, there is one in the works and I'm very excited to share it with all of you one day!

ily!!!

[rizumary]

Like A Soda Pop (part.1)

This was the highest peak of Hajime Iwaizumi’s delicate springtime of life—according to Tooru, who definitely didn’t have any say in Hajime’s love life. At all. (Or, the one where Iwaizumi got overwhelmed by a kouhai’s not-entirely-unwelcomed romantic advances and Oikawa did have any say in his love life, after all.) [Iwaizumi/OC; confession fic]

Writer: nutteu | AO3 version

[part 1] ー [part 2]

It wasn’t like Hajime was completely dense when it came to romantic adventures (“Iwa-chan, stop lying through your teeth, it’s not cute!”).

He had liked several people since he realized he got an abundance of hormones running through his course, and he had had people confessing to him too. But it was never often, and had never been a persistent recurrence in his life—both the liking and being liked thing. Of course he knew people liked him; his teammates respected him enough to listen to him (what happened with Tobio was—and would always be—a lesson on both sides), his classmates liked him enough to befriend him, his volleyball colleagues respected and acknowledged his skills, and his family had never failed in expressing their affections to him.

But it was starkly different than when someone liked you. A romantic type of like, the one with fast heartbeats and the unbearable urge to hold their hands, or spend time with them, or smiling when they talked excitedly about their passion. The type of like that became the spotlight of “our delicate springtime of life,” as Tooru had graciously reiterated over and over again to him. This type of like, Hajime was never subjected too much or too long under it.

He understood, though. He really did. He was just another high-schooler, who liked volleyballs, who joked around with his friends, who liked cooking more than he thought, who dreamed of holding the volleyball and standing on the court with his team in championships. But to people who weren’t familiar with him, he understood how he looked like, how he seemed to be.

Tall, but no more than his teammates. Looked okay, but frowned too much, looked like he was perpetually irked. Respectful, but distant. Nice, but awkward in relationships. Too serious, too obsessed with volleyballs to notice that his partner was getting further and further away from him. Too afraid to take the initiatives. Didn’t feel right, didn’t look right, wasn’t the right one.

So, no, Hajime wasn’t completely dense about romantic adventures. He might not be the most experienced lover out there, but he knew enough. Enough to think that it must have felt nice to have someone who liked you softly, comfortably, completely. Enough to know that the delicate springtime of life was not for him, after all.

(“You’re so stupid, Iwa-chan,” Tooru said, and sighed like Hajime had personally offended him.

“Die in fire,” he replied, and tried not to think about how earnest Tooru looked.)

The first time Hajime met Akeno Hana, all he could think about was just cotton candy. She looked it, too. Pale eyes, light hair, a small flower pin on the side of her bangs, and the way she had to look up, up, up, when Kyoutani introduced them. She couldn’t even reach his shoulders, and Hajime had an unexplainable urge to bundle her in blankets like a small child. Maybe he spent too much time teaching children, that he automatically had that protective instinct in the face of someone with small stature like her.

“N-nice to meet you, senpai! I’m Akeno Hana, first year, class 1, and—and I like chicken karaage!” she… squeaked. There was no other word, she looked tense, and her voice was notably in higher pitch than when she introduced herself to the other players. Not a moment after she said that, she covered her mouth, face reddening at alarming speed that Hajime was worried for a moment that she’d pass out.

Laughter erupted from around them; Tooru for some reason kept hitting Hajime’s shoulders as he laughed. He flicked the wandering hand away, ignoring the “How mean, Iwa-chan!” and smiled at her, trying to catch her eyes from their painfully acute height difference.

“Good to know that, Akeno. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, second year, class 5, and I like agedashi tofu,” he said, trying to soothe the unnerved kouhai. It seemed to work out a little bit, as she finally stopped the process of turning herself into a perfect tomato imitation. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She looked like she was in disbelief for a second, and Hajime inwardly prevented himself from frowning. No need to scare the kouhai even more with his infamous resting bitch face. But then, she sparkled. Like, no joke, Hajime was at loss for words, because that was what she literally did. She sparkled; her eyes, her smile, her whole face just lighted up and she nodded enthusiastically. He just smiled back, albeit a little bit more stiff than before. He was unsure on how to proceed with how fast Akeno’s change in mood was.

“I’ll see you later, Iwaizumi-senpai!” she called out, and then, almost like an afterthought, “and the others too, it was really nice to meet you all!”

She waved at him excitedly, and he waved back as she turned to skip out of the gym—and promptly tripped on her own feet. Kyoutani groaned next to him, and grumbled something too low under his breath for Hajime to hear properly. Akeno, on the other hand, had stood up and looking like she wished desperately for the ground to swallow her whole.

He chuckled to himself, and shook his head. She was such a weird character, he thought, turning to resume his exercises and ignoring the obvious leer on Tooru’s face. If he could find mercy in himself, Tooru would only have to suffer through two volleyballs smashed directly on his annoying face. What was the leer about anyway? It didn’t matter, Hajime nodded to himself. Any day is as good as any to smash Tooru’s face with volleyballs.

At first, the cotton candy girl didn’t come too often to the club. She came once or twice in a week, usually with a grumbling Kyoutani in tow. She was a curious one, asking left and right about volleyballs, and whether Kyoutani was getting along fine with the others. Almost like an overbearing mother hen, Hajime thought absently one day. She reminded him of himself when he pestered the others about their well-being. She was a good friend, he decided.

Sometimes they talked, with Hajime patiently answering her questions about the technical side of the volleyball. When he asked whether she was interested in joining the girls’ volleyball club, she shook her head so fast he was afraid she’d gotten whiplash. “No, senpai!” she shouted, probably louder than she intended, because she looked embarrassed afterwards. “Uh, I mean, I’m just interested in knowing about it, you know? But I think I won’t be joining any club right now.”

He raised an eyebrow, wiping the sweat on the side of his face and watched as Akeno followed the movement of his hand, her mouth in a small ‘o’. He raised his eyebrows higher, a silent question to her. She looked surprised and chastised when she realized she’d been caught watching, and shook her head quickly again. Hajime chuckled, shaking his own head. Man, this girl was really something. She was probably surprised at how much he sweated. It was pretty normal for someone who just finished practice, though?

“But do you have something you’re really interested in? Might be a pointer for the clubs you can consider to join,” he suggested. He observed as her face lighted up when he asked.

“Yes! I like arts,” she told him, closing her eyes as if remembering the tender caress of something she held dear to her heart. “I’ve been interested in arts and making my own designs these past few years. I’m serious about it, too, senpai!” she scrunched her nose and eyebrows, as if to show him she was “serious”. It made her looked like a constipated child instead, and he tried not to laugh—afraid she’d misunderstood. “I dream about being an illustrator one day. I can show you my arts sometimes, if you want?”

Despite the comedic face she made just now, she did seem pretty serious about it. Hajime could see it in her eyes. He saw it in the eyes of his teammates, his volleyball colleagues, seen it in his own eyes in the mirror. He offered her an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I’d like to see it sometimes.”

“Me too! I want to see Hana-chan’s arts too!”

Akeno jumped in her place, eyes widening before she relaxed when she realized it was just Tooru. Weird. Tooru had been here the whole time, and she only noticed now? This girl might even be more of a scatterbrain than he thought.

“Oh, Oikawa-san,” she greeted him with a cheery smile, as per usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you were there.”

“Of course you won’t, I’m just old, boring Oikawa-san, after all,” Tooru whined, feigning hurt on his face. “I’m nothing compared to the great Iwa-chan.”

He slapped the back of the moron’s head. “Stop teasing her, shittykawa.”

Tooru wailed at him, and Akeno laughed at their banter. Things went on like that each time she came to the club. She’d greet him, they’d talk for a while, and then Tooru would swoop into the conversation like a vulture. Other than that, Hajime paid her no mind and focused on practices instead. He had to admit that talking to her wasn’t half bad, though.

Even if she had the habit of watching him do mundane things, got embarrassed when she got caught, and then forgot about it and got carried away in conversations she was interested in. Aside from that, it was quite fun seeing Tooru repeatedly being forgotten by Akeno and had to forcefully insert himself into the conversation.

Gradually, though, she came more and more often around the club, to the point that everyone recognized and remembered her as ‘Kyoutani’s only friend’ and ‘that clumsy girl’. It wasn’t without reason as well. She hit her head on the door jamb, slipped on the floor even if literally nothing was there, dropped her newly-opened sandwich, and numerous other small incidents that made Hajime think that either she really was that clumsy, or she just had terrible luck. This past two months alone, Hajime had to grab her five times to prevent her from slipping and hitting the floor.

She always thanked him profusely for that, and it wasn’t like Hajime mind helping her. It was just—she just—each time she thanked him, she sparkled again, like the first time they met and she flashed that sparkling smile and eyes at him. It made him awkward and unsure on how to respond because it was so painfully earnest and sweet. Hajime wasn’t used to this kind of response from people, and definitely wasn’t used getting this kind of response from people just from simple favors.

“You don’t have to thank me that much, you know,” he said one day, absentmindedly munching on his homemade bento. Recently, they ate lunch together. Sometimes Kyoutani was there, sometimes Hanamaki and Yahaba joined them. But most of the time, it was only the three of them—Hajime, Akeno, and Tooru. For some reason, Tooru always insisted on joining and refusing to bring his own lunch. He complained that no one at home cooked for him because everyone was busy, but didn’t want to buy lunch either because he “also wants to eat homemade bento! It’s not fair that only you guys eat homemade bentos, it’s like I’m not invited to the date!” he would whine, and for some reason, it made Akeno choke and cough. Hajime was worried she’d actually choke on her vegetables because her face looked horribly red afterwards. He should tell her to chew more thoroughly. In the end, though, Hajime relented and made him some as well.

“Um?” she replied intelligently, cheeks bulging from her food as she looked up questioningly at him, round eyes clueless and so akin to cotton candy that Hajime thought for a moment whether he had some cravings he wasn’t aware about.

He grinned at the funny sight, and slapped Tooru’s hand away from his squid. “By now everyone is aware you will trip on air, so no need to thank me like I saved the country every time I helped. I’m just glad you didn’t fall and hit your head,” he explained.

She gulped down her food, and seemed to consider his words. A moment later, she looked at him and smiled, “I thanked you like that, because I don’t just feel thankful that you saved me from kissing the floor, you know. But also because I’m reminded that you care enough to do it repeatedly. I’m glad that you pay attention to me, senpai.” she flashed him a small grin, and Hajime felt heats rose on his cheeks for unfathomable reason. This girl was quite blunt sometimes, despite being easily embarrassed.

“I see…” he mumbled, and looked away from the blinding grin. Unconsciously, he felt his lips forming a smile, too. “I’m glad we’re getting along well.”

“Yeah,” Tooru piped in. “I’m really glad we are getting along well.”

As per usual, Akeno jumped in her seat, and almost choked herself to death with her rice. She coughed violently, hitting her chest as her eyes watered and her small face reddened. Hajime reached out to help patting her back, and passed her a drink. She shot him a sweet smile in return, despite the tears, and heaved out a relieved sigh after the catastrophe was averted.

“Are you okay?” they both asked her, worried their young friend was going to die on the school ground.

“Oikawa-senpai!” she greeted cheerfully, albeit a little bit worse for the wear as she was still coughing a little. “I’m sorry, I was just surprised to see you. I didn’t notice you there, I’m sorry!” she half-bowed from her current position, and the sight was so awkward and funny that Hajime had to hide a laugh behind a fist.

“That’s okay, Hana-chan,” Tooru replied, then put on his best dramatic expression. “I’m used to not being noticed by you. Ah, to be so forgettable that I’m no more than mere air next to Iwa-chan…”

“I-it’s not like that, Oikawa-san!” she quickly refuted, both of her palms waving back and forth in quick succession. “I’m sorry! I’ll try to pay more attention!”

Tooru laughed then, hitting Hajime’s knees, and getting hit on the back of his head in return.

All in all, it wasn’t… bad, per se, to be acquainted and befriend Akeno Hana, despite her quirks and several things she did that he completely didn’t understand about.

Of course, Tooru had to ruin it.

“You smile more around her, you know?” he said one day, as they were lazing around in Hajime’s house. He was lying on Hajime’s bed, reading Hajime’s sport magazine, and acted like he owned the damned place. Sometimes he truly wondered why he even bothered keeping his friendship with this shitty bastard for years on end.

“Who?” he asked, because he didn’t get what Tooru was trying to say.

Tooru grinned, heaved himself up, and looked at him with mirth and nothing resembling goodness in his eyes. “Hana-chan. You two are so chummy-chummy these days, huh?”

He frowned. “We’re not, and stop using ‘chummy’, you sound like a disgusting old man.”

“I was about to give you advices because you’re too much of a blockhead about romance, and here I am, getting attacked,” he sighed, putting a hand over his heart. “Iwa-chan, I’m hurt.”

He didn’t even bother deigning him with a reply, just flipped him off and continued reading his notes. They had assignments due tomorrow, and he had been postponing it because of practices. He was pretty sure Tooru didn’t even remember they had an assignment in the first place, and would whine about it to him in the morning.

“No, for real though,” Tooru pushed on. Hajime sighed; he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus until Tooru finished whatever he wanted to say. “You seem to be more relaxed around her. She could be good for you, Hajime. Not to mention how much she adores you. It’s almost painful to see the blatant admiration in her eyes.”

“She is nice,” he conceded. “But don’t start spouting non-sense, she probably sticks to me because I’m the only one around who got the time explaining things she asked about. You guys spend too much time teasing her; Kyoutani is obviously out of the question. It would be a wonder if he ever got interested in anything long enough but to serve as aggressively as possible.”

Tooru sighed again, intentionally louder this time, as he flopped back on the mattress. “And you said you’re not dense,” he grumbled. “Whatever. If you ever ended up alone and brittle when you’re old, don’t come crying to me.”

Hajime grunted noncommittally, and stared back at his book. He still couldn’t focus, though, even long after Tooru had shut up. Akeno Hana was nice. She was cheerful, painfully earnest and terribly clumsy. She paid attention to him, and seemed to be sincere every time they talked. She also seemed to be interested in volleyball—as in, an actual interest instead of polite, meaningless inquiries or a passing interest, even if she claimed that she didn’t want to join the club—and that was good enough to be on Hajime’s good list.

Did he really seem to be more open around her, or was Tooru just bullshitting him as usual? Whatever, thinking about Tooru or Akeno Hana wouldn’t help him understand this theory. He could ponder about it any other day, if he didn’t completely forget.

He didn’t forget. It stuck with him, against all odd. He blamed Tooru entirely for this.

Akeno regularly came to the club around three to four times a week. Sometimes she stayed for long, sometimes she just came by to say hi. They ate their lunch together every day now, and the more she talked with that honest, excitable way of hers, Hajime found himself wondering more and more.

He did pay attention to her, and if he had to be honest he was genuinely interested to what she had to say. He found that his initial remark of her being a weird character, was slowly morphing into something endearing instead of raised-brow worthy. He got used to her clumsiness, and other forms of misfortune that seemed to surround her in abundance, despite the comedic timing of it. It had been some times now since he knew her, and he found that he actually cared about her to the point of remembering things she said; things she said she liked, things she thought were important to her, things she held dear to her heart.

“There was this bunny plushy, senpai,” she started one day, munching on her lunch. It was tuna sandwich this time; he reckoned she didn’t have time to prepare for bentos today. She always brought one, usually. “On this machine crane,” she said that as if it had personally offended her and her ancestors, “and it doesn’t matter how many times I tried, I keep failing! It’s really frustrating! But I really want it! Ah, what should I do?”

She finished her tirade with a dejected face, and Hajime blurted out, “We can try getting it sometimes, maybe two people’s luck is better than one.”

Her face brightened in an instant, and he suddenly had the urge to shield his eyes from how sunny her face was. He didn’t know what prompted him to say that, or why he even bothered to offer. Sure, he didn’t mind going to the arcade, it had been some time, after all. But to go out of his way specifically, just because she looked so sad about it, was not something he could reconcile with his usual self.

“I wanna join too!” Tooru exclaimed, head popping up on Hajime’s shoulder, and this time, he jumped along with Akeno. Huh. He was too caught up in Akeno’s rambling and his own thought to notice that Tooru was there.

“Oikawa-san, hello!” greeted the kouhai. “Um… I guess an apology won’t do anything, since I keep not noticing you there. But I’m sorry!”

The boy laughed and waved her off. He sent teasing glances at Hajime, and he closed his eyes, praying to whatever God was listening to give him strength and patience to face this asshole he called his best friend.

“Nah, I’m joking,” Tooru cajoled. “I have something to do today anyway. You two have fun!”

They did, have fun. They spent hours on the crane, and Hajime watched with increasing fascination and horror how the cheery, sweet Akeno turned into someone so different in the face of frustration. She kept feeding money to the machine without hesitation, and he briefly wondered if she kept bringing bentos because this was where all her pocket money went into. At the end, they finally gave up on the crane and decided to soothe their nerves (and wallet) by playing other games. Akeno went home with a big bag full of goods from the crane and other stuffs they won from the arcade, and Hajime went home feeling more happy and confused than he had ever felt in his entire life.

“It had been so long since I last eat chicken karaage,” Akeno said another day. She brought her own bento today, but she was chewing on her salmon with such dejected face that something in Hajime twinge and twitched with something he faintly recognized.

“Mhm,” he hummed absently, looking at the soccer field as Akeno apologized profusely to Tooru and Hanamaki for not noticing them earlier. “Must be nice to eat it once in a while.”

The next day, he stared at the big bowl of chicken karaage he made impulsively this morning. It was enough to feed the whole house for two days. He sighed, and got a second bento box from the shelf. It wouldn’t do to waste them, and he knew exactly who would appreciate some spontaneously made chicken karaage.

When he gave the box of bento to Akeno, there was something akin to wonder in her eyes. The same sparkle that he saw on the first day they met.  When she opened it, however, the sparkle just went into a full-blown imitation of the damned sun. She just—she looked so happy that she almost vibrated with it. This was probably the happiest Hajime had ever seen someone to be when he gave them something.

“Thank—thank you senpai,” she said, lips wobbling and, to his horror, started crying. He tried, futilely, to calm her down, but the tears kept falling. “No, no, senpai. I-I’m just so happy that you gave me this, it’s—it’s my favorite food, and—and your chicken karaage is—so good—“

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed, smiling and rubbing the top of her head as she tried her best to stop the sniffle. “Thank you for the compliment, but I guess it would be better to eat it without crying. Might taste a little bit saltier with all those tears, you know?”

She gave a wet laugh, and hiccupped a little bit. But she still looked endearingly joyous about such a simple thing, and it warmed his heart to see it.

“Damn, Iwa-chan, I didn’t know your chicken karaage is that good,” Tooru hummed thoughtfully, startling Akeno and made her rub her face vigorously to erase any trace of tears. It didn’t do much, though. Her red-rimmed eyes, reddened cheeks and nose just gave it all away. “Did you give a different one to Hana-chan than the one you gave to me? I knew it! You are so unfair, Iwa-chan!”

“Shut the fuck up, asskawa, words come out of your mouth but they sound like garbage,” he deadpanned, face flat.

Akeno laughed, a little bit more cheerful than the last, and Tooru promptly faked crying. “Abuse! This is abuse! I’m hurt, Iwa-chan!”

Hajime laughed along with Akeno, and thought that maybe, just maybe, Tooru was right. This could be the peak of his delicate springtime in life. Maybe Tooru wasn’t so full of trash, after all.

(Though he wouldn’t admit it under the threat of torture. Some things were better kept as secrets from an amazingly annoying—and at times considerate—man like Tooru Oikawa, Hajime decided.)

The revelation didn’t start out like a bang for Hajime. Instead of the explosive realization, it felt much, much softer before building up into an exhilarating crescendo.

It started with this:

Akeno Hana’s favorite food was chicken karaage. She liked it extra crispy for some reason, and always looks like she was about to burst into tears whenever she ate it. She actually shed a tear when she ate Hajime’s karaage, and it made Hajime worried and felt an inexplicable joy in his chest.

He didn’t know her hometown, didn’t know her grades, didn’t know her exact height, didn’t know her favorite color, and didn’t know whether she liked her eggs scrambled or sunny side up in the morning. But he did know that she bled with her art, smiled like she could lit the whole town, and had an obsession with crane games that was bordering on unhealthy. She was terribly, laughably scared of ghosts; easily distracted, and easily entertained. She wore her heart on her sleeves, and would blindly give everything she had for the people she cared about.

She was—she was such a small, bundle of mess filled with joy and sincerity and Hajime—

Hajime felt like he finally came up for air after being held underwater for so long. The rush of relief and euphoria, the elation of this discovery that battled with creeping uncertainty. The first breath that warmed his lungs and it was hard to breathe for a moment, but he had never felt more alive than this moment.

He sat up, eyes wide, the tip of his fingers trembling as they gripped the sheets tight. I like her, he thought, and felt almost giddy with joy. I like her, he thought, and felt his stomach twisted with fear and anxiety.

“I like her,” he typed, and pressed send before his nerves could fail him. The embarrassment was creeping hard and fast all over him, and he tamped the urge to scream and forced himself to breathe.

“Took you long enough,” Oikawa replied a second later. “Congratulation, you’re officially a simp now.”

“Shut the fuck up trashykawa.”

The days afterwards were painfully awkward for Hajime, and he was pretty sure everyone was cringing at how stiff and jumpy he was around Akeno after that. Akeno didn’t seem to mind, though, albeit looking a little bit confused at his weird demeanor. Apparently, she just chalked it up to him suddenly contracting weird sickness.

“Are you sure you’re well enough for practice, senpai?” she asked the first time it happened. She looked worried, her hand hovering as if she wanted to check his temperature, but was probably too short to reach out for his forehead.

He lowered his shoulders without words, slumping so she could reach it and check for herself. She smiled at him and put her palm against her forehead, then frowned, looking adorably focused in deducting his non-existent sickness.

“Hmm,” she pondered, tapping her foot on the floorboard. “You don’t have fever, and you don’t seem like you’re sick either, honestly. But you’re so jumpy, senpai! Are you nervous about something? Is it the spring tournament? You still have time to practice more; it’s going to be alright. And I’m sure you’d be doing great, too. I believe in you, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

It wasn’t about the exams, of course, but Hajime nodded at her nonetheless, silently enjoying her fussing about his health and taking a few moments to himself to feel grateful that someone cared this much. He still didn’t know exactly what the protocol was after you realized you liked someone, but he was pretty sure that getting more and more enamored by said person was one of it. If he was wrong, well, Akeno Hana did bring several surprises in his life, he could do by following her example.

It got better, eventually. The stiffness and awkward interaction, but the heartbeats and the warmth in his face every time he found her doing something incredibly endearing didn’t exactly go away. But honestly, he thought, as Akeno laughed at something stupid Tooru said, her cheeks red and eyes full of mirth, he didn’t mind. He could get used to this delicate springtime of life.

[twinkleallnight]

It has been a crazy week. I am due for a surgery and Corona isn't helping. Finally I will be operated on, today. So before I go under the knife, here is the next one from my favourite.....(read, like, comment. I am already hungry NBM since 10 hours!)

Marshmallow

(Part-13) Crazy nights.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC, Drake x Hana

For previous chapters: catch up here

Rating: mature

Prompt 1: This fic is my submission for this week’s #WackyDrabbles. The prompt is “If you won’t do it, I will.” (appears in bold)

Prompt 2: This is a submission for choicesweeklychallenge. The prompt is: ‘What would I do without you?”’ (appears in bold)

Thank you so much @speedyoperarascalparty and @yourmajesty09 for listening out my doubts.

Word count: 1595

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"She is crazy, trust me!" I say, trying to prove my point to Hana.

We are both, sitting at my favourite spot, near the lake, under the evening sky, after a crazy country jamboree at the Applewood manor. Penelope had come to meet me earlier with her poodle, asking for advice for her pet’s ill health. I am discussing the weird interaction that followed.

Hana gives her perspective. “I don’t agree. Penelope is kind hearted, and she extends the same love to her pets too.”

But I don’t agree and reply back. “Morgan loves this, Morgan tells me so and so. She was talking about her poodle as if it were a human.”

“Really?” Hana gives me a questioning look. “Being a vet, I thought, you will understand her love for her dogs. May I ask, what were you doing, talking about Amber and Belle like they are your girlfriends? They are animals too.” Hana argues.

“It's different with horses. I mean…. Wait! Are you jealous of my mares?” I chuckle.

Hana's eyes go wide as she turns to me. “Yes, … I mean No! I mean… ugh!” She fumbles at words and I keep looking at her, amused. Finally, she cannot take it anymore. “You are too much!” she says and starts punching me on my arm, her little hands hardly making any impact. I turn and pull her into me, holding her tight at her waist, bringing the banter to a halt. Her hands are tightened into fists, resting on my chest. I gently kiss on her forehead. “Lady Hana Lee, what am I going to do with you?”

She gives me her signature shy smile when I rest my forehead on hers. And just like that, hand in hand, fingers entwined we walk back to the manor, a feeling of satisfaction in my life, a sense of completion in my heart.

-------

“ I think I should request Liam to shift you to my next door.” I tell Hana as we approach her room at the manor.

“Isn’t Riley your next door neighbour?”

“Yes. Liam wants me to be around her, to help her and keep a check. But the room on my other side is unoccupied.” I wink at her. She playfully nudges me.

We reach her room, and I let out a sigh. She chortles. “Bye! I will see you tomorrow at the palace.” I place a kiss on her cheek and turn on my heels before my hands try to reach out and touch her.

--------

I am walking to my room when I get a phone call from Liam. “Hey Liam! What’s up?”

“Hi. Riley left for her room approximately five minutes back. Are you around?”

“ Yes, I am unlocking my door as we speak.” I shuffle through my pockets for the keys.

“Noooooooooo” I hear the scream just then.

“ Liam, it’s Riley. Get down here. I am going to check on her.” I say while running towards her room. I shove down my phone in my denims and push the door. It’s locked. “Brooks!” I call out but I hear some shuffling sounds and nothing else. I kick hard on the door, I push hard with my whole side, I bang on it and hit in all the ways possible, till it caves in.

I absorb the scene inside the room. There is a black figure, pinned down to the ground, and Riley is struggling perched on his body. I quickly grab hold of the man in the black cloak, as Riley moves away. I punch him hard. He lands on his stomach and something falls away with a crackling noise on the floor. “Ahh! Thank you!” the figure in black says rolling on his back.

“Max???” we say in unison.

“Those damn Dracula teeth props! They got stuck and I couldn’t talk.” Max says.

“Riley!” just then, Liam barges in, Bastein in tow. Liam strides towards Riley and curls his arms around her protectively. Riley gives him a nod. “I am fine.”

“What happened?” he asks. Clueless, we stare at Max sitting on the floor in front of us.

Max crawls to pick the white thing that fell out of his mouth. I realise those are Dracula teeth. He shakes his head. “Sorry about that. I thought I will trick Riley, scare her a bit but my plan fell flat on face. I mean I fell flat on my face. I mean both.” He says rubbing his hand on the place, I had punched him.

“Riley, where did u learn those moves from? Bruce Lee?” Max looks in pain at Riley, holding his back.

“You should have told me it’s you when I tackled you down.” Riley snickers. “I am trained in martial arts by the way. So, watch out before you try stunts with me next time, Max!”

“My bad” Max raises both his hands to surrender. Bastein walks to him to give him a hand and pulls him up.

“Sorry for the false alarm Bas.” Liam apologises. “Now if we are done playing Halloween, we need to let the lady get her beauty sleep.” He kisses Riley on her temple. “Come I will get another room arranged for you tonight, dear. The lock is broken on this one’s door.” Liam walks out with Riley and Bastein.

“Night Brooks!” I wave at her. I slap Max on the back of his head and he gives back a foolish grin. We walk to our respective rooms.

--------

I spend the whole day at Beaumont estate helping Max with the preparations for the final event of the season, the Beaumont bash. I rush back to the palace well in time to meet Hana. I knock on her door, and wait.

She answers in a while, holding her phone to her ear, and a fuss on her usually smiling face. She moves her free hand signalling me to come in, and shuts the door behind me. The telephonic conversation continues as I stand there and watch her getting more uneasy.

“Yes, I know Mama...I have gained the court’s favour. I have become friends with prince Liam...right…I am not here to befriend him.” She throws her hand up in the air in despair. “No, you have made yourself clear. If I am being honest no… No, the prince isn’t likely to choose me….” She pinches the bridge of her nose. I step ahead and take her hand squeezing it affectionately between my hands. She gives me a sad smile.

“Yes, mama I know you love me and only want what’s best for me.” I feel her stiffen. Her hand clutches mine tightly. Her tone changes and she speaks with determination. “I love you and respect you for all the efforts you have taken for me but if you really want me happy, then you have to let me figure out what that means for me…Yes if that means being with my commoner friends.” She hangs up and places the phone on the table.

The next moment her arms are around me and she clings to me in a tight hug. I am taken by surprise but I kiss her hair and hug her back with a content smile.

-----

"And that’s how Max made a fool of himself again.” Hana tries hard to control her laughter when I narrate her the spooky-turned-stupid last night at Applewood.

“I can’t thank you enough for being there, Drake! What’d I do without you?” Liam claps my shoulder.

“It was a hoax call, we all know.” I make light of the whole situation.

“Now we must all take our places.” Riley points to the tables exquisitely decorated at the Beaumont bash. Riley is also a proud host, being part of House Beaumont, along with Bertrand and Max.

“Sure. You are the host, enjoy front table with your prince.” I wink at her, and am about to walk when Riley calls out.

“Oh, I won’t leave you alone. Someone wants to give you a company.” She smiles looking at Hana.

“You did the seating arrangement?” I ask Riley in surprise.

“No, Bertrand did. I just made sure that I give Olivia a little payback for what she did at her estate.” She says with a mischievous smile. “But just before the guests poured in, I asked Max for a small favour to rearrange the lady and her Marshmallow together!” she giggles.

“Are you sure about this?” I look at Hana. She is turned the same colour as me- pink!

“Now just go and enjoy, you two!” Riley gives us a gentle push.

I settle in a seat, with Hana besides me, on my right, at one of the far back tables. I am thanking Riley in my thoughts. This dinner won’t be miserable while I have just the right company, I am grinning. That is when I see her walking towards our table with a menacing look. I have a feeling that the seating has been messed up. “I swear I am going to kill Max for this arrangement.”

Olivia pulls out the chair to my left and plops on it and says with a snarl, “If you won’t do it, I will.”

I have two sets of eyes piercing through me. Two with shock and two with anger. I avoid both of them and look straight ahead, gulping the lump in my throat along with the soup. My mind is racing. So much for a peaceful dinner in a good company. Hell, this is going to be one crazy night!

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Tags: @ao719 @aloneautumn @bebepac @charlotteg234 @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesweeklychallenge @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordonianroyalty @drakewalker04 @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog @islandcrow @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @princessleac1 @ritachacha @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @queenrileyrose @sanchita012 @sfb123 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @wackydrabbles @xpandabeardontcarex @yourmajesty09

[twiistedgalaxies]

Genesis: Chapter 1: Schoolyard Days

Summary:  How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves. Or, alternatively: The origins of All for One and One for All.

A/N:  All for One is Midoriya Hisashi, but this isn't super relevant since this fic takes place a couple hundred years before canon. This fic is heavily inspired by a lot of other fanfictions that I've read, including the amazing story "Family Secrets" by WinteryFall, which I highly recommend. That fic in particular is why I headcanon that the original holder of OFA was named Tomura, and that Tenko was named after him to satisfy AFO's overinflated ego. In this chapter Hisashi is fifteen and Tomura is eleven.

Sunlight streamed into the room from the crack between the large, thick curtains, causing motes of dust in the air to glow softly before they reached the plush carpet. The room was small, cramped. The walls were plastered in movie posters and dirty laundry formed piles on the floor. Every flat surface had knick-knacks and toys strewn upon it, tossed hastily aside in favor of something else. There was a bunk bed wedged into the corner, blankets and sheets just as messy as the rest of their surroundings. Upon it slumbered two boys. On the bottom bunk lay Tomura Shigaraki, his long white hair splayed out on a stained pillow, framing his cherubic face like a halo. His face was peaceful, relaxed. A thin line of drool was stuck to his chin, and with it, a few strands of hair. His palms faced the sky, arms outstretched and torso covered by a thin cotton blanket, the rest discarded at his feet to stave off the summer heat. On the top bunk was his brother, older by a few years, Hisashi Shigaraki, he was curled up into a tight ball, tense, with blankets nestled at his back. His hair was shorter than his brother’s and stuck up at odd angles as the result of a restless night.

    The wooden door opened with a soft creak, as their mother, Hana, poked her head into the room, a fond smile on her face as she prepared to wake them. The sweet smell of pancakes filled the air, and she could hear the faint whistle of the kettle in her kitchen. She cleared her throat, causing Hisashi to stir, “Boys,” she began, “It’s time to get up.”

    Hisashi groaned, grabbing his pillow to cover his head and ears. Tomura mumbled something incoherent, and shifted slightly. Both clearly were unwilling to get out of bed and face the torment that was the first day of school.

    “I made pancakes,” She said, voice light and teasing as the boys woke with a start, practically tripping over each other in their efforts to get to the kitchen. Hana had to press her back against the wall to allow them to storm through the narrow hallway of their apartment.

    “Hisashi!” She heard Tomura shriek as they entered the kitchen. The offending teen’s hand was wet and poised to flick more water at his little brother’s face. He wore a shit eating grin at Tomura’s expense.

    “Hisashi, stop tormenting your brother,” Hana said, making her way into the room.

    “But mom,” he began to protest, only to be cut off.

    “Besides, I can’t give you two pancakes if you’re standing in the kitchen, now can I?” She continued with a wry grin. Hisashi let out a huff of defeat and made his way to the kitchen table, Tomura in tow. Hana carefully deposited the pancakes onto three plates, slathering them with butter. The pancakes were a newer tradition in the Shigaraki household. Several years ago, when Hisashi was just five and Tomura a toddler, they had emigrated to the United States from Japan after many long years of waiting for citizenship. The flight to the large country was a long one, and the first meal they ate in this foreign land was in a Denny’s at some unseemly hour. They had pancakes, eggs, and hashbrowns. Hana spent her time trying to understand just how Americans can have such ridiculous portions, whilst her husband and son dug into a stack of sickeningly sweet pancakes.

    The two siblings continued to hassle each other at the kitchen table, resulting in peals of laughter and the occasional shout of offense. As wonderful as it was to see them in such high spirits, Hana couldn’t help but wince, pitying their neighbors who were trying to get some sleep. She drowned one of the pancakes in syrup, Tomura’s, while leaving the others untouched. Hisashi had grown to inherit her disdain for things overly sugary, especially after the stomachache he had from the Denny’s fiasco. Hana set the plates on the table in front of her sons, “Now, what did I tell you about going to school again?”

    “Make sure I take my medicine and visit the nurse’s office,” Tomura chirped. She nodded and ruffled his hair fondly, “And remember to give her your doctor’s note, it’s in your binder in your backpack.”

    “Don’t pick fights with the other kids,” Hisashi said, not seeming happy about his parents’ command, “though the brats deserve it.” Hana leveled him with a stern glare, but didn’t say anything. Her eldest knew damn well the consequences of brawling with his peers. Last year, he had gotten into a particularly legendary scuffle that put two kids into the hospital and nearly got him expelled. It was only his high grades, the top in his class, that spared him from that fate. Instead he had a month of suspension and several more of being grounded. He was on thin ice, and Hana really didn’t feel like having to transfer him to another school in the middle of his high school career, especially since the school in question was so close and integrated with Tomura’s middle school to save space.

    “Also try to avoid taking the main roads,” Hana said, sitting down to eat, “I heard there’s going to be another protest today, and I don’t want you both caught up in that mess.”

    “Yes mom,” the two chorused, though their words were muffled by the pancakes in their mouths. 

    Breakfast continued without event, they talked about their hopes for the new school year, and soon the boys were off. Hana hugged each of them close before they departed, and if they noticed her embrace went on for longer than usual, neither chose to comment on it.

-@~*^*~@-

    Tomura clutched the strap of his backpack, nervously stroking his fingers on the scratchy fabric. The doors of his middle school seemed large and intimidating. A steady stream of students poured into the hallways, parting around him in careful avoidance as he stood on the concrete steps. “It’s just middle school,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on his cane, “Not that much different from elementary school, just a bigger place, with scary teachers and much scarier students and-” He cut himself off, swallowing nervously. It would be fine, probably. He entered the school and made his way to the nurse’s office. The chatter of students and the squeaking of shoes on linoleum floors was deafening. His heart rate picked up, and he felt the familiar weight of anxiety in his chest as he pressed himself to the locker lined wall in an effort to avoid being trampled.

    The nurse’s office was sterile, white, and smelled like expired antiseptic. The school nurse was an older woman, her face marred with wrinkles and her gray hair thin and straw-like. She was slightly overweight, and wore a colorful, floral print blouse. When Tomura entered the room, she was looking at something on her computer, chewing on the eraser end of her pencil. “Hello?” Tomura said after a long while of awkward silence, he stepped towards her cautiously, like one would a wild animal. This woman would be responsible for his frail health in the next few years, and would hopefully be less short-tempered than the last nurse he had the misfortune of dealing with.

    She looked up, surprised, and peered at him over her half-moon glasses, “Yes dearie?”

    “I- My name is Tomura Shigaraki, I have some medicine I have to take every afternoon and I uh,” he pulled his backpack off his back and set it on his floor, digging around inside it, “I have a doctor’s note and everything.” He pulled out the slip of white paper, upon it was a school issued forum with a lot of technical medical stuff. He’d be excused from PE, among a whole host of other accommodations. 

    The school nurse looked it over, a thoughtful expression on her face, “EDS?”

    “Yes ma’am,” he replied, nodding hurriedly, wincing at the crick in his neck that it caused.

    “What’s that?” She asked, looking through her desk drawer, likely a filing cabinet of some kind.

    Tomura felt his eye twitch with mild annoyance, but he quashed it down, “Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome,” he paused, searching her face for a reaction, “It’s a connective tissue disorder.”

    The nurse gave him a blank look, clearly not understanding, “I see, well Tomura, my name is Ms. Bell. It says here that you need to take anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers each morning.”

    He nodded, “Yeah, EDS makes me hypermobile which causes the muscles around my joints to freak out and makes my tendons inflamed.”

    She nodded and wrote something down on a separate piece of paper, using the pencil she had been mercilessly chewing on earlier. 

    “Uh, my joints also tend to dislocate a lot, it’s why I’m wearing this leg brace. I might have to come in because of that too.”

    Ms. Bell raised an eyebrow, her expression doubtful, “It can’t possibly be that bad.”

    Tomura chuckled mirthlessly, “I wish.”

    “Well,” Ms. Bell began, waving her hands towards the door dismissively, “You should probably get your schedule before the bell rings, I’ll see you before lunch.”

    He nodded hurriedly and scooped up his bag, careful to keep his joints from sliding out of place. 

    The rest of the day went relatively smoothly, he had an extra elective to make up for the lost PE credit, and had it right before lunch. It was an art class, the one he was most excited for other than math, and he had to leave five minutes early to begin his long trek across the school to the nurse’s office to take his medications. Throughout the day, kids gave him a wide berth, clearly trying to size him up. Sadly, this meant he ate alone at a small table, directly in the searing sunlight. Whispers followed him in the halls as students gossiped about the new cripple. Tomura hated it, but was relieved that whispers were all there were. For now.

    His math class was at the end of the day, and he made sure to show up a little bit early, before passing period, to give his teacher the same speech he had to give all the others earlier that day.

    “Hi,” he began.

    His math teacher, a young man in his mid-thirties, looked up from his lesson plan, “Hello.”

    There was an awkward silence. This conversation was off to a great start. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m disabled and will be absent pretty often.”

    The teacher blinked, “I can see that.”

    “Er, on my 504 it says I can ask for deadline extensions and the ability to make up work,” Tomura wrung his hands together nervously, “My mom told me to give all my teachers a heads up about it so uh, here it is.”

    The man hummed, “I’ll keep that in mind. Your seat is at the table in the back corner, there should be a slip of paper with your name on it.”

    “Thank you,” he replied, face flush red with embarrassment. He made his way to his seat and rummaged through his backpack, pulling out the materials listed on the white board as the bell rang and students filed into the room. The teacher introduced himself and went over the syllabus. Everyone tuned him out and the classroom was filled with hushed chatter as students got to know each other. Tomura found himself sitting on the sidelines, observing rather than participating in conversation. Socializing was never his strong suit, he’d always left that to his older brother.

    Soon the math teacher, Mr. Burns, had the class do an ice breaker, something that Tomura had never really cared for, even when he was younger. He had much preferred the online learning that the pandemic a few years ago brought, at least he wouldn’t have to play 20 questions with a bunch of people who probably didn’t like him at best and despised the exercise even more than he did. The students had to go around the room and ask each other questions to fill out a bingo card. He hovered awkwardly at his desk, frozen with anxiety. A warm hand on Tomura’s shoulder made him jump, he whirled around to see a young boy his age. He had ginger hair and his face was covered in a smattering of freckles. “Heya,” the boy said, holding out his hand in greeting, “My name’s Zach, what’s your name? Why’s your hair white? What’s that weird thing on your leg? Why do you have a cane? Oooh are you secretly an old dude? I like your Captain America shirt, do you like superheroes? Marvel or DC?”

    Tomura just stared in shock as Zach barraged him with questions, some intrusive and some friendly. He held out his hands in a placating gesture, “Hold- Hold on a second, okay? I can’t answer that many questions at once!”

    “Sorry, sorry, You just seem really interesting!”

    “It’s fine,” Tomura ran his hands through his hair nervously, not used to the sudden attention, “Let’s just start with the questions on the bingo sheet.”

    Zach’s face lit up, and the two talked for the entire time allowed for the ice breaker. They both really loved comic books, and while many of Zach’s questions were intrusive, Tomura could tell that unlike most of their peers, there was no malice behind it. Once the icebreaker ended the class watched a short film about math with a bunch of classic Disney characters. The two boys sat next to each other through the whole thing, making eachother crack up as they quietly made fun of the cheesy movie, much to Mr. Burns’s dismay. Their conversation continued until after school, arguing about comic book franchises all the way to the school’s front gate.

    “Do you want to walk home together? I live pretty far away but maybe we can talk some more!” Zach suggested.

    “Where do you live?” Tomura asked.

    “Oh, I live about half an hour’s walk that way,” Zach gestured to the opposite direction of where Tomura’s house was.

    “I’m sorry, I can’t,” Tomura replied, shaking his head regretfully, “My apartment is on the other side of town, besides, my brother and I usually walk home together.”

    “You have a brother?”

    “Yeah, he’s in the high school next door.”

    “Cool!”

    “Well, I had fun meeting you Zach, do you want to eat lunch together tomorrow?” Tomura asked, shuffling his feet nervously.

    “Sure! I should probably get going before my dad gets upset,” Zach’s expression grew a little grim at the last part, but Tomura shrugged it off.

    “Bye!” Tomura said, as Zach headed off.

    “See ya!”

    The loneliness that followed his new friend’s absence was much more crushing and all-encompassing than it was this morning. Tomura sat down on the curb and pulled out his phone while he waited for his brother. He opened his browser, his homepage was stuffed to the brim with various news articles speaking of political instability, economic downturns, and conspiracy theories that had grown in popularity over the course of the past few years. Ignoring the day to day prophecies of doom the headlines foretold, Tomura directed Chrome to his favorite comic website, and dug into a new webcomic he had found the day before. It was Lore Olympus, a retelling of the kidnapping of Persephone, written by Rachel Smythe. He found the characters compelling, and the modern spin put on such a classic tale interesting. However, he’d never admit to reading something so girly as a romance comic, which is why he jumped about a foot in the air when he heard his brother call his name.

    “Hey,” he said, voice cracking as Hisashi approached from behind.

    “What are you reading?”

    “Uh, nothing!” Tomura replied as he shut off his phone, hastily shoving it into his pocket. He stood up, hands clutching his backpack straps like a life line once again.

    Hisashi smirked, sensing his younger brother’s discomfort like a shark to blood, “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he teased.

    “Shut up.”

    “Come on, there’s no harm in telling me is there?” His eyes widened in mock surprise, “Or is it something you aren’t supposed to be reading?”

    “No no no, it’s nothing like that! I’m not even into that stuff,” Tomura’s face grew beet red as he tried to hide his face in his hands, “I’m only eleven!” He speedily began walking towards their apartment, which was a few blocks away.

    Hisashi clicked his tongue, trailing behind him, “Oh mother would be so disappointed.”

    “It’s just a webcomic!”

    “Sure, sure, if you say so.”

    Tomura let out a groan of frustration and distress, which just made his older brother break his cool composure and laugh. They both rounded the corner, walking through a strip mall that held a gas station, deli, and used electronics store. The latter of which displayed a myriad of TVs in the shop window, all of which were playing the news.

    “Here to talk about the strange increase in birth defects and mutations in newborns is Dr. Garaki, a specialist from Japan.”

    Hisashi stopped in front of the shop window, it seemed like that little snippet had caught his attention. Their parents didn’t play the news very often. Between their father’s juggling of several minimum wage jobs, and their mother’s job in a nail salon, they were barely able to keep afloat. According to their mom, they didn’t want the extra stress in the house. Tomura could understand why, even social media stressed him out. Hisashi thought it was stupid. The man onscreen was stout, wore round gleaming spectacles, and had a cartoonishly bushy mustache, which was the only hair on his head. He wore a lab coat, and Tomura couldn’t help but think he resembled Dr. Eggman from the Sonic cartoons. 

    “Well, you see, I believe this to be the next step in evolution for humanity. These are not defects, but rather mutations in genetic code. We still have yet to see where this goes, but when you look at the genome sequences of these newborns..”

    The scientist kept rambling in jargon Tomura couldn’t really understand, he glanced at his brother, who looked absolutely enraptured by the interview.

    “As for why there’s so many sudden mutations and why children have started presenting odd abilities? Perhaps it is the pandemic that swept through the world not so many years ago, the virus may have altered our DNA. Or perhaps it’s what we put in our water and food, studies have shown that..”

    “Hisashi,” Tomura interrupted, “We should head home, we’re really close to the main road and mom told us not to go on those.”

    His brother opened his mouth to protest, but as he did, they heard commotion from the street that ran parallel to them, where most of the shops were. It seemed like the protest had begun. “Fine,” he sighed, looking torn between the story that caught his interest and his little brother’s pleading gaze, his lips twitched, “but you’re telling me exactly what it is you were reading.”

    The boys started walking again, “Are you ever going to drop this?”

    “Nope! I just want to know what my kid brother’s up to.”

    Tomura reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, keeping his head down as he opened up the web comic. He began to ramble about Lore Olympus as his brother listened fondly, making the occasional teasing remark. The walk to their apartment building seemed to go by quickly after that, and before Tomura knew it he heard the familiar jingling of keys as Hisashi began his daily battle with their faulty door knob.

    He struggled with it for a little while, frustration worming it’s way onto his face when Tomura piped up, “Do you need help?”

    Of course, it was in that moment that the door chose to finally give in. “No,” Hisashi responded, deadpan.

    They were greeted by the familiar sight of the empty apartment, as both parents had left for work by then. Hisashi made a bee-line for the living room couch, searching the room for the ever elusive TV remote. In contrast, Tomura went into their room, excited to sift through his ridiculous collection of comic books so he could trade with Zach tomorrow and show off his evidence that Marvel quite clearly made the superior comics (and movies, but that was neither here nor there). 

    Tomura found himself sitting on the messy carpeted floor, with sorted piles of comic books scattered all around him. In his hands was an old Amazing Spider-Man comic, worn with folded corners and yellowing pages. It smelled of the dusty, now bankrupt comic book store he had bought it from for what was, in his eyes, an absolute steal. In his favorite panel, Captain America is looking down at Peter Parker, broad and imposing during their darkest hour. He gives the young hero a pep talk, saying words that Tomura would find ringing in his ears years later.

    Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world — "No, you move.”

A/N:  This first chapter was fairly fluffy, but the next one will be much darker. These first few chapters will be slice of life so that I can set the stage for Plot To Happen. If I'm inaccurate in how I write EDS please tell me, and I'll do my best to fix it. Feel free to leave a comment!

Ao3

Next Chapter

[cofffeeekinks]

Katsune no Hanayome Ch. 5

Normally, y’all gotta wait till Friday, but today is labor day so you get a bonus chapter and I’ll post again on Friday as usual. 

This is a commission multi-chapter fic, for @eggyboi13, who has been so patient with me in regards to how long I’ve been taking to get this out. I’m hoping to get a new chapter out every Friday.

AO3

If you want to show me your support, consider asking for a commission (only for art though) or leaving a tip in my ko-fi.

Katsune no Hanayome Chapter 4

Rated: Mature (18+)

Trans!Bakugou Trans!Todoroki Trans!Kirishima

Later chapters will contain things such as: s e x , lots of it. Heavily pregnant s e x.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

The trio, now in the middle of their month long pregnancy, often helped with clients when they could. Izuku’s clan often supplied potions for many of the different yokai in the spirit world and so they had many customers. They didn’t have to work, and Izuku actually advised against it. He didn’t want them to over do it and hurt themselves or their babies. However, all three boys couldn’t just sit around and eat all day, they had to do something and that meant help around the shop.

Most of the time yokai would ask for some sort of healing potion, or a good luck potion. A few have even asked for a sex potion, that of course would only work with willing partners. The yokai were friendly to the trio, congratulating them on their pregnancy and wishing them luck. After seeing many yokai throughout the day, they never expected to see anyone they recognized. And yet, here they were. They were staring at Iida and Shinsou at the other side of the counter.

But they were different, or at least Shinsou was.

Shinsou had a cute pair of cat ears perking from atop his head and a tail that wiggled about. He was also heavily pregnant, and from the looks of it he would probably be bedridden soon.

“Wh-what are you three doing here?” Iida asked, his voice shaken with surprise.

The three glanced at each other, unsure what to say but as usual Katsuki was the one to speak up first, “We got knocked up by a sexy fox so I guess we live here now, and from the looks of it, you kinda did the same?”

“Sort of.” Iida looked over at Shinsou.

Shinsou rolled his eyes, “Listen, just because I hung out with you all doesn’t mean I was a human.” he began to explain, “I was young, saw this handsome human and I knew I’d have to work to spirit him away.”

“Hey, that’s kinda cute.” Eijirou said with a smile, “Oh, maybe our babies will be friends?”

“Agreed.” Iida nodded.

“So, are you two here for some potion or something?” Shoto asked, getting impatient with the chit chat,  “Like, why are you here?”

“Oh yes!” Iida answered, “We’d like some pain killers, for when he goes into labor.”

And with that awkward interaction, Iida and Shinsou departed.

--

Eventually though, as the days passed, it wouldn’t be so easy to move around and work at the front of the store. Katsuki was the first to drop from that position. Him being pregnant with a group of six kits, he quickly began to out grow robes of the largest size. Of course, it didn’t help that he was always being fed. And not just him, of course, Eijirou and Shoto were just about always stuffed with food as well. They had each gained at least 100 pounds in the course of their time pregnant, Katsuki a little more though. Katsuki was so fed up with nothing fitting, he opted to walk around naked. Why the hell not? He was pregnant and moody and nothing fit so he might as well just have this. It was a shock to the servants and when they asked, politely, “Please, why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Katsuki would respond with, “Fuck off.” or something similar.

Then, if Izuku caught him out and about without any clothes on, he’d whisk him away into another room and the two would bang each other for hours. But as fun as walking around in the nude is, Katsuki eventually became too big to move and was bedredden.

About four days into his bedrest, one of them who would no longer have to carry that giant belly around. The first one to go into labor was not Katsuki but rather a certain red haired gentleman who was carrying triplets. It was a surprise to the servants, who all had a betting pool with the majority of the participants betting toward Katsuki. He was the biggest out of the three, surely he’d be the first to pop, but no. It was Eijirou.

It happened late at night when a new sensation woke Eijirou up from his sleep.

“Did I just…” he spoke out loud as a wet liquid began to trickle down his legs and over toward Izuku.

Eijirou watched as the liquid spread over toward Izuku. It barely had to touch the tip of his finger for him to wake up. He opened his eyes and looked over at Eijirou staring back at him.

“I’m sorry, I think I peed.”

Izuku sat up, the smell of the liquid hitting him and alerting him that no, no this was not pee, “Eijirou, your water broke.” he announced with urgency.

“My water broker but --,” he was then hit by a sudden and powerful contraction, causing him to let out a little yelp.

Izuku quickly left to fetch a potion for Eijirou, it was supposed to numb the pain of childbirth but childbirth demands to be felt and not everything was numb.

“This is fucking bull shit, Izuku!” he screamed, his qurik activating and resulting in the bed boards breaking.

Katsuki and Shoto watched on in slight horror.

“I’m never doing this shit for you ever again!” Eijirou screamed, “No one is because as soon as I’m done pushing these babies out, I’m ripping your dick off!”

“Please dont…”

“Eijirou, please focus.” the midwife tried to redirect his attention, “This one is ready to come out, now I need you too --.”

Eijirou then bore down and pushed the first of Izuku’s children out. Ren slid out of Eijirou, screaming and crying. He was a big infant and was very much excited to be alive.

Everyone instantly fell in love with him, the midwife cleaned him up and passed him to Izuku who held him to his neck, scenting him. Ren was passed around to Shoto and Katsuki as well. They, unknowingly washed their scent on the baby.

The next baby to come into the world was Aiko, and only half an hour later, the first girl, Sakura was born. All of the newborns were scented, swaddled, and would be cared for.

Katsuki was the next of the trio to give birth, to which he was both relieved and horrified because yay, finally but then oh my gosh I’m scared. So, since they knew the remainder of the babies would arrive soon, Katsuki, Shoto, and Izuku decided to have some sexy fun. Eijirou sat out, he was still healing and exhausted from the birth of his triplets. Instead he spent the remainder of the night snoozing or tending to the needs of his little newborns.

During their sexual escapade, Katasuki’s bliss turned into pain the moment he felt a pop along with water gushing out of him and onto Izuku’s dick.

“Shit.” he swore.

Izuku and the servants helped clean up the mess, while Katsuki was prepared for birth. The painkilling potion didn’t work as well as Katsuki wanted and as the pain of childbirth branched out from his spine he began to sob.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” he breathed, then screamed as a ripping contraction tore through him.

“It’ll be okay.” the midwife soothed, “You’ll see your little ones soon, I just need you to breathe through the pain and push as hard as you can.”

Katsuki nodded, he squeezed Izuku’s and Shoto’s hands as he pushed with all he had. Haru and Maru were born only 30 seconds apart, to which the midwife said, “You don’t want to keep going so quickly, at this rate, you’ll rip.”

Ten minutes of agony later, Katsuki was tired of keeping an easy pace and he pushed out Tobi. Then Hana and Kana were born only two minutes away from each other. By the time there was only one baby left, Katsuki was exhausted. It took him forty five minutes to push out the smallest of his litter, Kiki.

With a smile, Katsuki stared at his little babies with awe. They wiggled and cried, and to his surprise Katsuki couldn’t wait to have more. That was his final thought before passing out a seconds later from exhaustion. He spent the entire next day sleeping, and no one disturbed him.

Shoto was the last to give birth, and he was overdue when he finally asked Izuku to have the midwife induce him and she did. Katsuki and Eijirou were there with him, they had known he had been a little fragile during his time being pregnant and knew he needed all the support they could provide. They were at his sides, each holding a hand. Izuku took position next to the midwife to aid in this birth.

Izuku’s instinct to assist the midwife was right. The first of Shoto’s litter would cause complications.

“It’s --I can feel the first one comming down…” Shoto stammered.

“Slow down.” the midwife advised, then stated, “This is going to be a breech birth. The legs are coming out first, Mr. Midoriya, I need you to put your hands here and --”

Shoto screamed, he was starting to feel a burning sensation leaking from his pelvis and radiating upward. It was getting hard to breathe. Katsuki turned and kissed him on the forehead, Eijirou whispered, “Hey, you can do this. Breech or not, you can get this baby out.”

“I can’t do this!” Shoto shouted, “Stop, stop stop! Make it stop!! It hurts, please I can’t--,”

Shoto was ripping. He could feel himself tearing.

“Now, I need you to push hard!” the midwife ordered, “We have to get the head out, now. Okay, push push push!”

Shoto wasn’t even sure he was pushing at this point, it was all so painful. His vision was blurring as he looked down and noticed the midwife and Izuku handling a very quiet and limp infant.

“What, what’s wrong...?” Shoto asked, breathing hard and seeing black splotches.

He overheard the midwife say something about ‘...not breathing…’

“Is she okay?” Shoto asked, “Why isn’t she crying?”

Katsuki and Eijiro both reassured him that everything would be fine and indeed it was because a few seconds later, little Sachi began to cry and with a smile Shoto passed out. Shoto was only knocked out for a few minutes before it was time to resume the rest of his labor. Which was easy and not as painful as the first. Mari, Touka, and Touya were all a breeze to push out.

Afterwards, Shoto ended up having to be bedridden for the next month to allow himself to heal.

[lizzybeth1986]

HLAW Day 6: Throwback

On this appreciation day I thought it would only be fitting that I posted the first ever Hana Lee fic I did, With A Little Help From My Friends. The story is in two parts, and while the first part is popular the second has one of my favourite lines of Hana's!

(@shazrystyles made this gorgeous art piece for the fic at least three years ago 💖💖)

This is Part 1, where Hana and Liam bond over music. And this is Part 2, where they bond over the woman they both love.

1. What about this character inspired you to create this piece?

Halfway through my first serious playthrough of TRR1 (a little after the book had ended), I became very fascinated with Hana as a character and found her extremely relatable. I bought as many scenes as I could. Some of my Liam stan friends at the time confessed they didn't know or understand her that well, so I wrote this fanfic because I really wanted them to see what I saw 💕

Also it struck me that Hana had a goodbye moment with all of the main group in her finale scene...except Liam. So what was the thing they could both do that they could enjoy together?? Music, of course!

2. What was your process like?

My process for fic is usually very linear...I HAVE to know the opening before I can write anything. Which I did for this one too. I knew I was going to start the fic with a heartbroken Hana hammering away on the piano, alone 😭 and from there I was able to let the story take its course.

And because PB never showed us Hana's gift, I needed to write it in myself so I spent some amount of time researching places where you could get dizi flutes in China (by the time I wrote Part 2, the first few chapters of TRR2 had already been out).

3. What part of creating this piece brought you the most joy?

Part 1: DEFINATELY Hana and Liam jamming together! Most of the fic had a lot of sadness and tension, so I loved ending it on this bittersweet note.

Part 2: Both Hana and Liam's final lines (the one she says about confessing to Esther and the one he says about her bravery) before they return to the ballroom.

4. Are there differences between the way you make content for this character, and the way they are depicted in canon/fan content? If so, why?

Like a lot of my friends, I tend to have elaborate backstories for her coz many of us felt that was something she was robbed of in canon. We also like to put her in the center of some of our stories coz she is amazing as a character and deserves more love than she actually gets, and because unfortunately she sometimes tends to get erased in fan content too. So it's important for us to center her needs and perspective in fics about her.

5. Did you have a playlist to get you into the mood for creating? If so, what kind of songs?

A Lot of Queen 😄😄 I was (still am!) a huge Queen fan, hence the song I finally selected for Liam & Hana's jamming session.

--

Doing a Day 6 fic for Hana now, but if I'm not able to put that up I hope at least this is out there!

[dreamyjoons]

give and take // knj

Synopsis: you return from a hard shift and just want to unwind. Will you be able to let off steam thanks to the tall attractive man who’s window overlooks your bedroom?

Warnings: smut, fluff, voyeurism I guess, unprotected sex (be safe!), some cursing, poor writing 🤷‍♀️

Words: 5.3k

A/N: Hi! This is my first time writing bts fic. I’ve never done reader inserts and I definitely don’t share what I write. But I got this idea after watching the band HaIestorm perform the song ‘I Get Off’ and I had to write it - and so here is the monster that I created. Please be gentle with me! Enjoy.

You slammed your keys down on the counter as you strode into your apartment and dumped your bag on the floor, wincing at the volume. Pushing your hair out of your sticky face, you made your way over to flop onto your couch. A shaky breath ran through you as you finally allowed your body to relax.

Work had been rough. Your boss had left you once again to man the bar alone, despite how busy it had gotten. No one had tipped, and one middle-aged man had been hitting on you all night - despite you mentioning the ring on his wedding finger at least six times and turning him down at least double that.

To say you were frustrated was an understatement. 

A quick look at the time on your phone told you it was nearly half past two, and you had to be up for class in five hours. With a stifled groan, you got to your feet and dragged yourself to your room. 

You shut your door quietly as to not wake your roommate in the room next to you. Shucking off your coat, you flicked the light on as you kicked your converse off and in opposite directions. Looking towards your window, your eyes flicked across the apartment complex on the other side of the street. There was only one light on, as you expected. The window was on the floor below yours, only a narrow, empty street separating the two buildings, but you knew it well.

He usually paced past the window into the early hours in the morning, seemingly the only other person awake in the city. You’d often find yourself watching him, fascinated by how deep in thought he was. You’d never seen him up close and you were just far enough away to not make out proper features on his face, but you could tell he was cute. You just knew it. Tall, often with glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, a book often tucked into his hands. His hair was a new colour every month or so - this month he was sporting a dark grey, and it’d be a lie if you said it didn’t make your heart pound a little. But you couldn’t see him today, and you swallowed your disappointment.

You didn’t have a little crush, you told yourself… you could just appreciate art when you saw it.

With tiredness creeping through your bones, you sighed and turned away from the window. You unbuttoned your shirt and looked for a top for you to sleep in. The shirt was halfway down your arms when you had a sudden urge to turn back to your window.

There he stood, frozen.

You sucked in a breath as you saw him out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t want to turn around fully and scare him off, but if you stopped and hid, he’d know and that would spook him too. Before you could think any more about it, you began to let the shirt fall off your arms again, slowly until you let go and let it hit the floor. The cool air surrounded you as you stood in your bra and jeans.

You could feel the heat on your face as you fixed your gaze on the corner of your room, your back directly to the window. You should stop and close the curtains, you knew it, but the warmth you felt growing in your core by being watched like this was too much to deny.

You moved your hands to your jeans and unbuttoned them, before drifting your hands to the waistbands and sliding them slowly over your hips, before bending over and easing them down to your ankles.

You stood back straight and toyed with the sides of your panties, mentally thanking yourself for not wearing your ugly old lady underwear today. A quick look over your shoulder saw him still standing there, but now he had a hand over the front of his pants. You let out a small gasp and faced your room again, heat coursing through you.

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting it slowly fall. You grabbed a strap and held it to the side so that it was visible to the man below before letting it drop to the floor. You then bent forward to pull your oversized shirt on, your cheeks burning. With one last flash of confidence, you gripped your panties and slid them slowly down your legs, stepping out of them. The panties were damp, and a throb rocked at your core before you threw them across your room.

At that, you walked over to your lights, flicked them off and strode back to the window. Pulling the curtain across, you quickly looked at the window below. The man ripped his hand out of his pants and jumped out of view. You watched as he threw his curtains shut, and you bit your lip to hide a smile.

Pulling shut your curtains, you climbed into bed and let what just happened run through your head, heat pooling in your core.

You’d let him watch and you enjoyed it. There was no doubt about that.

But apparently so did he.

——

The next day flashed past in a blur.

You’d woken up late for class and spend the day running around between classes and working on assignments.

There had been no time to think about the night before - whenever your mind did wander to it, the heat on your face grew and your stomach did flips. Whether it was excitement or guilt, you didn’t know. You didn’t want to think about it.

The sun was starting to set as you were finally on your way back to the apartment when you got a text from your roommate about picking up some laundry detergent on your way home.

Stopping at the shop on your street, you walked into the bright mart and wandered down the aisles, barely focusing and your surroundings. Only when you bumped into someone’s back did you hurtle back to reality.

“Oh! I’m sorry-” you started, but when the person turned around your voice died in your throat.

In front of you stood the man from the apartment across the street. The one who you had watched for a while now. The one had watched you take your clothes off.

“No worries, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” He smiled, and your eyes widened at the sight. Shit, he was pretty. You gaze flicked over the dimples that appeared on his cheeks and the ways his eyes scrunched, and you had to fight to keep your mouth from falling open. His grey hair dusted over the edge of his glasses and you swallowed. It was definitely him.

As long as you were cool about it, there was no way he would know who you were. Your apartment were far enough away and you never exposed your whole face out the window.

“Oh, no, yeah. Don’t sweat it.” You stammered, and you wanted to smack your forehead. He let out a little chuckle, and began to turn away before stopping and looking back at you.

“You look familiar. Have I seen you around before?” He asked, and you nearly choked. Surely he didn’t recognise you? Panic flooded your system as you tried not to dart your gaze everywhere.

“I-I don’t think so. Sorry!” Stammering, you tried to flash him a confident smile whilst your heart was beating frantically in your chest. You hoped that it was enough for him to be deterred. His forehead creased.

“Ah, okay. I’m sorry…?” He trailed, and you swallowed.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. I’m Namjoon.” He grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even with the whirling in your stomach. “Have a good evening.”

He sidestepped you then, holding out an arm to let you past. You nodded at him before hurrying along, grabbing the first detergents you saw and bolting for the cashier. You paid as quickly as you could and almost ran out of the store, avoiding the tall figure that lingered in the corner of your vision.

You powerwalked back to your apartment.

Once inside, you leant against your closed door and heaved a heavy breath, trying to force out all thoughts of Namjoon. Once your heart rate had slowed to a somewhat normal thud in your chest, you pushed off the door and walked into the kitchen.

Hana stood in the kitchen stirring a pot on the stove. Once she spotted you she broke out into a grin, and returned a half-hearted smile before taking a seat at the counter and placing the detergent in front of you.

“Hey! You hungry?” She asks, and you let yourself slump on the counter.

“God yes.” You mumble, sniffing the smell of her glorious cooking. You hear her tinkling laugh and yet yourself relax.

“Hard day?”

“Long. I got caught up at the bar last night. The old dickhead left me alone again.” You lift your head up and rest it in your hand, watching her mill around the kitchen.

“When are you going to move on from there? I think you’ve put up with enough now.” She states, turning to face you with a hand on her hip. You merely shrug.

“The money is okay-“

“You can earn money anywhere. Don’t think I didn’t hear you leave here late for class again this morning. It’s gonna start affecting your performance.” Hana sighs, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“You sound like my mother.”

“I just haven’t seen you in ages, Y/N. I’m worried about.” You watch her frown and you feel your heart swell a little.

“We can hang out today? Put on Netflix, have a catch up.” You suggest, and a smile split across her face as she nodded enthusiastically making you giggle.

“I’ll go change out of these jeans and I’ll go set up the tv.” You chuckle, getting up from the counter.

This is what you needed. A distraction from the pretty man in the building across from you.

You walk to your room and find your sweats in your drawer. You go to change, but before you do, you cross your room and shut your curtains tight, avoiding looking at the window below.

——-

You woke up the next morning with a slightly fuzzy head. You should have known an evening in with Hana meant cracking out a bottle of wine or two.

You sat up and squinted into the afternoon light that streamed through the gaps in your curtains. After taking a moment for your head to stop swimming, you stood and slowly dragged yourself into the shower, taking your time to shave and wash your hair slowly.

Only when you were about to step out did you groan, remembering a conversation you had with Hana the night before.

A party tonight. Some guy in her class had invited her to a party - Park somebody. And you said you’d go.

You stepped out of the shower and sighed. Maybe a party would be good. You certainly hadn’t been able to let loose for a while, what with work and college consuming your every day.

The rest of the afternoon was spent binging tv and doing laundry, and avoiding all thoughts of the tall stranger. Evening crept around before you finally got up and stretched, your eyes flicking subconsciously to the window across the street.

In the fading light, you could see a lamp on in his room and his faint figure pacing past the window once again. A small smile slid onto your face as you watched him. He stopped by the window, and you watched as he turned in your direction, and you scrambled to hide behind your curtain. You waited a minute or two before stepping away, your heart hammering.

You crept to your bed and crawled in, trying to block out Namjoon. You needed to get ready for the party soon. Maybe you could find someone to help you blow off some steam. But the more you thought about Namjoon, the hotter you felt. The thought of him waiting by his window for you with his hand back down his pants had you rubbing your thighs together. With a moan, you threw the covers off you and sat up in your bed and peered over your window ledge. You could faintly make him out slowly walking by the window, and you bit your lip. Was he waiting for you, or was he just in his own head again?

You were screaming in your head at yourself, demanding to know what you're doing. But the fire that burned in you couldn’t be extinguished. You wanted to see this through.

You turned on your lamp by your bed, basking the room in a warm glow. Slowly you slipped past the window again, letting your hair down so that it hung behind you. With a quick look outside you could see him in his apartment. He wasn’t facing you, but you hoped he would be soon.

You slipped down the robe so that it hung just below your shoulders, the back pooling around your waist. You pulled your hair to the side so that it sat on your shoulder. You used this as an opportunity to look outside and saw Namjoon hovering by his curtain, facing your direction.

You smirked as you looked back. You untied the rope of the robe and let it fully slip from your body. You moved your hands up your hips and toyed with the straps of your panties, hiking them so that they framed your ass nicely. You could feel your wetness seeping into the underwear, and you moaned softly.

You dragged your hands up and moved to unclip your bra before slipping it off slowly and tossing it onto your bed. With a toss of your head, you flicked your hair back off your shoulder and laid an arm across your breasts, covering your nipples. You turned around, and with a quick glance, you saw him standing almost flat to his window. It took him a second to stare before you saw him scramble back and shut his curtain. With a smile, you drew the curtain and fell back on your bed.

Your body thrummed with adrenaline and you could feel your walls clenching. Slowly, you let your hand fall across your panties and drop past the waistline, feeling just how slick you had gotten.

You were startled out of your stupour by the harsh vibrations of your phone ringing. You tried ignoring it but the moment was ruined. Angrily, you ripped the phone off your bed and accepted the call.

“Hello?” You spat.

“Y/N, it’s Reid. I’m gonna need you to come work on the bar as soon as possible.” You boss ordered and you huffed.

“It’s my night off, and I’ve got plans-” you started.

“I know, but Mina’s called in sick and I can’t do it alone.” You could hear him pouting on the phone, it made your fist clench.

“Fine. I’ll get ready and head in.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Thanks.” Reid rushed, hanging up before you could say anything else.

You slammed your phone on the bed and groaned, taking a second for yourself before standing up and getting dressed for work.

Dashing into your living room you finished buttoning your shirt and was met by the gaze of Hana. Standing in a simple white cropped tee with a black sequined skirt, she looked incredible. She took in your attire and sighed.

“Y/N please-”

“I’m so sorry Hana. I’ll see if I can get out early and come meet you.” You offered weakly.

“Go. But you’re making it up to me.” She smiled softly, and you ran up and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Thank you, love you! You look beautiful, have fun!” You yelled as you ran to the door, tugging on your boots and grabbing your keys.

The next few hours passed in a blur, a flurry of drinks orders and money being held in your face by tipsy patrons. The bar had gotten super busy, but at least this time Reid stayed to help.

“Y/N!” You heard from down the end of the bar. Placing the change and the drink in front of the customer in front of you, you nodded and moved towards where you heard your name called from.

Hana stood at the bar, her brown hair slightly messier than when you saw her last, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol. You grinned at her, eyes wide in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You guffawed, looking at the mass of people that moved from behind your friend to the dancefloor.

“Since you couldn’t come to the party, I thought I’d bring it to you.” She shrugged, but you could see how giddy she was as she gestured to the people dancing.

“You’re so cute.” You smiled, looking at the customers arriving at the bar.

You fixed her a drink on the house, and then went back to serving. The guy who she came with - Park Jimin, you remembered - came to the bar and ordered a round of shots, one for you too. After swallowing the ominous dark liquid, you moved close to the next customer, and stopped dead in your tracks as you once again came face to face with Namjoon.

“Hey, Y/N, right? I didn’t know you worked here.” He spoke softly, his honeyed voice close to you, making you shiver.

“Namjoon, n-nice to see you. What can I do for-what can I get you?” You asked, your eyes flicking over his features.

“Whiskey on the rocks, please.” He smiled, and it took all your willpower not to reach out and touch his dimples.

With a nod, you turn and begin to pour out a measure of whiskey, subconsciously pulling your hair over your shoulder as you worked. Once you had dropped the ice in the drink, you flicked your hair back over your shoulder and took a steadying breath.

You turned back around and put the glass on the counter, and was about to tell him the price when you saw his face. Your eyes widened as you took in his shocked appearance, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes blown wide.

“It’s you.” He says, more of a statement than anything. Your mouth opens and shuts stupidly, embarrassed and shame coursing through you.

You stare at each other for a minute, his eyes darkening and he stares at you. You scramble for something to say, anything to dispute it.

“Hey Y/N, get back to serving!” Reid shouts from the other end of the bar, and it shakes you out of your reverie.

“It’sonthehouse” you mutter as you step away from Namjoon, moving to serve the smiley man next to him. You plaster on your customer service smile, but you feel Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you.

You throw yourself into your work, avoiding Namjoon long enough so that he slips away from the bar. You sigh harshly, your stomach plummeting whenever your eyes flicker to his now vacated spot.

Soon enough the shift comes to a close. The bar begins to close as the patrons are shooed out by security. Hana asks if you want to come to the next bar with them, but you tell her that you just want to sleep. With a squeeze of your arm, she tells you not to wait up for her.

After putting in the glasses to wash and wiping down the bartop, you grab your stuff and tell Reid you’re leaving without waiting for a response.

You step out into the cold night half expecting Namjoon to be there. When he isn’t, you ignore the disappointment that sits in your stomach as you begin the short walk home.

You finally get to your apartment floor and step out of the elevator, only to walk straight into someone’s back.

“Hey, what-”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Namjoon?” You splitter as the tall man turns to face you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, watching with fascinating and shock as a blush creeps across his face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to- I dunno, talk to you?” He stammers, hiding a shy smile as he looks at his feet.

“How did you know where I live?” You ask incredulously. He was standing so close it was making your head swim. He was so attractive you couldn’t see straight, and the blush on his face was making your heart speed up in your chest.

You walk to your door as a way to distract yourself, shakily trying to push the key in the lock. Cursing your clumsy hands, you turn back to face him. He steps towards you but stops short, gentle eyes searching your face.

“I assumed you were the floor above mine, judging by looking at your window.” He stops and clears his throat, blushing harder. “I got this far and then didn’t know what to do next.”

“What were you hoping for?” You asked breathlessly, your eyes flicking to his lips. He smirks, stepping forward. You back up against your door as he closes in on you. His lips are just an inch from yours and he waits. Your gaze flickers over him before you shut your eyes and close the distance between you.

Your lips crash together, moving against each other slowly at first, but the fire between you builds until your both kissing fiercely. You part your lips and let him slide his tongue in, kitten licking as he kisses you. The sound of the elevator dinging down the hall startles you back to reality and you break apart the kiss, panting.

Namjoon reaches beside you and turns the key hanging in your door, letting you both inside. You take the keys from his hand as he shuts the door behind you and throw them onto the counter. You're both kicking off your shoes before glaring hungrily at each other, your breath coming out in excited pants as you examine the tall man gazing at you darkly. You reach out and grab his hand before dragging you both to your bedroom and shutting the door behind you.

He starts kissing alongside your mouth and down your neck and you groan, moving your head to give him better access.

“I have to say,” he says in between kisses “I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” You stutter as he sucks a bruising kiss onto your neck.

“Jealous of whoever it was who got to see you in that robe and underwear. I nearly came just looking at you.” He whispers into your ear and you shiver.

“There wasn’t anyone. It was all for you.” You confess, trying to hide your blush in his chest.

“It was always for you. I always see you pacing, thinking. Looking incredibly hot. I thought it was time to pay you back.” You stutter, taking confidence from not having to meet his eyes.

You hear him growl and you gasp as you look back at him. He picks you and turns, walking you back and throwing you on the bed. You land softly, watching as he stalks to you.

“That was all for me, babygirl?” He asks and you hold back a moan. You were practically dripping, and the pet name was going to send you over the edge already.

He crawls between your legs before catching your lips with his again, cupping your face as he leans over you. His hands move down to unbutton your shirt, and pushing it off your shoulders. You reached under you to unclip your bra and throw it on the floor. He breaks off his kiss to looks down at you, a smile appearing on his face.

“Beautiful. I never thought I’d be here with you.” He mutters, and you look into his deep eyes, pupils blown wide. You smile as you lean up to catch his lips, allowing your lips to part and let his tongue dance into your mouth. You reach out and fumble with his t-shirt, pulling it up and stopping your kiss to reveal his wide expanse of smooth chest.

A brave hand snakes down his body and into the waistline of his trousers, grabbing hold of his hard cock and giving a few experimental tugs. His head drops into the crook of your shoulder as he lets out a shuddering moan, the sound making you even wetter.

“Y/N, baby, stop.” He whispers as he moves your hand from his trousers. “We can do that another time, I need you now or I’ll explode.”

You smirk as he pulls back to look at you, his mouth parted. His hands move to unbutton your jeans and tugs them down with your panties, exposing you to him. His eyes drink you in, and you force yourself not to hide from him.

“What makes you think there’s gonna be another time?” You smile, but your smile is wiped off your face as soon as he ghosts a finger across your dripping core.

“Do you not want a next time?” He asks, his gaze drinking in your features as he spreads your legs.

He gathers your wetness on a finger before sliding it inside you, and you arch off the bed before you can even think of an answer. Using his thumb, he rubs circles around your clit and you gasp, hands reaching out to grab onto his upper arms. He kisses down your neck and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue.

He pumps his finger inside you, before slowly inserting another and slowly building up speed again. You rock your hips to match him, moaning and throwing your head back.

He releases your nipple and moves back up to capture your lips in a kiss, but soon devolves into you panting against his mouth as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Oh fuck, Namjoon.” You mutter, his fingers daggering inside you and his thumb rubbing faster circles into your clit.

All it takes is bruising kiss on your neck and a gentle twist of a nipple and you come undone, walls clenching around his fingers as your orgasm rocks through you, arching off the bed as he slowly rubs you through your pleasure. When you come down you gently push his hands away, panting, a smile creeping onto your features as he watches you come back down.

You sit up and push him back, pulling his jeans and boxers off and tossing them on the floor. His erection hits his stomach, slightly larger than normal but with a curve to it that has your mouth watering.

His bravado falters a little as you look at him, his blush creeping back onto his face. Your heart flips and you giggle as you straddle him, grabbing his cock and rubbing the tip with your index finger, precum coating your fingertip. His head lols back and you smirk.

“I’m on the pill and clean. You?” You ask, his head whipping back up.

“I’m clean. Are you sure?” He asks, and you answer by rubbing the tip of his cock along your dripping core. His hands shoot to the width of your hips and his finger dig into your sides.

Slowly you lower yourself down over his cock, the slight burn from his unexpected width soon replaced with pleasure. You bury him to the hilt as you get used to the feel of him inside you, and his fingers digging into your sides tell you he’s restraining from moving as hard as she can.

Without warning, you roll your hips, bringing out a moan from both of you as you start to ride him. The feel of him inside you has your walls clenching, and your head lols to the side.

“Fuck, so tight, Y/N. All for me, baby girl.” He stutters, sitting up so that your chests were flush against each other as you bounced. You rise up just enough so that he teeters at your entrance before slamming back down, taking him to the base. His hips thrust up, setting the pace.

You ride him for as long and as fast as you can, clenching your walls to bring out delicious moans from him. You peppered kisses along his jawline as his head fell back, marvelling at the man beneath you. But soon enough your legs get tired. Namjoon notices, and soon enough he’s pulling out of you and pushing you onto your back on the bed. He re-enters you quickly, leaning over you, one hand supporting himself on the mattress, the other behind your head, knotting itself in your hair. His new angle hits your soft spot inside and has you keening on the bed, back arching to push your chests together.

“I’m so close Namjoon… fuck” you gasp, your hips rocking up to meet his quickening pace.

“Me too baby.” He grunts, head dropping to your neck and he bottoms out inside you. You run your hands up his back, nails digging into his skin as he thrusts.

His hand drops from your hair and moves to your clit, rubbing fast little circles until you’re coming undone around him, clenching as you orgasm until he can’t take any more. You cry out his name as you cum, hips rocking on their own as you ride out your high. With a groan of your name, Namjoon pulls out from inside you and with two pumps of his cock, cum spurts out over your stomach.

You both lay there panting, before he lifts his head to show you how fucked out he is. He leans forward and plants gentle kisses on your lips and you smile, before climbing off you altogether and returning with a towel from the corner of the room. He sponges you off, and with a second of thought, getting back onto the bed beside you. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings you flush against him, chest to chest.

“Well, that wasn’t how I expected this to go.” He smiles, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Oh, are you disappointed?” You ask, eyebrow raised. He chuckles and tightens his grip on you.

“I wanted to ask you if you would possibly go out to dinner for me. You’re gorgeous and cute, and I didn’t know what else to say. But I can’t say I’m not happy with how this turned out.” He grinned, and you reached out and touched the dimples on his face, your cheeks burning.

“Maybe you should ask me anyway.” You suggest, biting your lip as you look at him. His smile deepens.

“Miss Y/N of the apartment across the street, would you like to grab dinner with me tomorrow?” He asks, and you giggle before pecking a light kiss on his lips.

“Mr Namjoon, my peeping neighbour from across the street,” you pause to rub a thumb across the blush that crept across his cheeks. “I’d love to.” 

[chyrstis]

Describe Your Blog

Tagged by @naromoreau​​ @ja-crispea​​​ and @seedlingsinner​​​ ages back, and recently by @fromathelastoveritaserum​​! Thank you all, and I wish I’d finished this sooner, but managed to finally work out what to put here after all.

Tagging: anyone and everyone that hasn’t had a chance to do this yet! I think most of you did it back in the day, and I don’t want anyone else to miss out.

1. Icon: Just a poor little goblin with its hands on fire. It’s a throwback to a session where my husband’s Goblin Cleric lit his hands on fire in a We Be Goblins Pathfinder game. I don’t remember why I decided to pick that moment to represent myself over the last ten years or so, aside from it making me laugh, but it’s been a pretty decent fit so far, and I don’t see myself dropping it. XD

2. Content: Originally I’d moved over from LJ and wanted to post some Dragon Age art and crafting (also my ancient Heavy Rain fic which I still love), and spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to navigate this place. But I managed to find my niche, and some awesome and supportive people that I still owe a lot to, back in 2013 with Saints Row.

Now, it’s still mostly writing, and I’m having one hell of a love affair with Far Cry 5, but this’ll always be a place for crafts, video games, and other assorted media I love. Having and maintaining a separate side blog for each one would be damn near impossible for me to keep up with.

3. Letter color: I’ve never messed with text much here, though if I had my way it’d be a dark background at all times with white text.

4. URL: At the time I needed a new username, and went with the most absurd consonant-laden last name I could ever attempt to give a character of mine. It’s a crime, and I really should apologize to her at some point and get her a replacement, stat.

5. Header: Made by @nihildep​​​, this was a gift from the FC5 Holiday Exchange of my silly deputy Hana with Sharky and Boomer, and I still can’t shake the giddy smile I get every time I look at it.

6. Blog title: I wonder if it does that every time?

It’s a play on a scientist’s need to test a scenario multiple times for the same result, because replicable trials are the epitome of awesome, man. And they sure as hell make our lives a lot easier too. 

[fruitsbasketcase]

So a few days ago Natsuki Takaya tweeted out That Hajime is a daddy’s boy, but is also a grandpa’s boy. 

So I got inspired and wrote a small fanfic of Hajime spending time with his dad and grandpa. It’s been years since I wrote a Fruits Basket fan fic so hopefully it’s good. 

A Day with Daddy and Grandpa

Hajime Pov- Eight Years Old

“Daddy come on! We’re going to be late,” I yelled, standing at the front door and practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. He promised me that we would get to go to the dojo today and see grandpa. I wanted to watch another match between them. 

Daddy made his way into the hallway, mommy following close behind with the same sweet smile she always has on her face. The sight of her smile always made one appear on my own face. It was just so soothing, it made you feel like you were soaking in a lukewarm bath. 

“Calm down Hajime. It’s not like grandpa is going anywhere,” Daddy sighed. 

Mom’s smile grew as she handed daddy a bento box big enough to hold lunch for the three of us. “He’s just excited Kyo-kun. It’s been awhile since he’s seen Master after all. I wish I could go with you, but I promised Machi-chan I would help her shop for a birthday present for Yuki-kun.” 

“Just get the damn rat a potted plant or something,” daddy grumbled, making mommy playfully push his arm. 

“Kyo-kun! What did I say about cursing in front of Hajime?” 

“Cursing is a part of my vocabulary Tohru. It can’t be censored.” 

I never knew why mommy bothered scorning daddy about his cursing. It’s not like I went around repeating the words he says. I did it once and mommy freaked out and turned into a fumbling mess of words. I also never understood why daddy calls Uncle Yuki a rat. They both had weird nicknames for each other. Uncle Yuki was a rat, and daddy was a ‘stupid cat’. Mutsuki and I always found it weird. 

“Come on daddy!” 

Daddy sighed shaking his head at me before smiling back at my mommy. “I guess we’re heading out now. I’ll tell Master you said hi.” 

Mommy nodded before leaning in and kissing daddy on the lips. Groaning, I covered my eyes with my hands. 

“Gross!” 

Daddy put the bento he was holding in his sports bag before throwing it over his shoulder. “You only think it’s gross because you’re a kid.” 

“Kissing will always be gross,” I argued, crossing my arms over my chest. 

Mommy smiled at me, walking over and kneeling down to be at my level. “If you think it’s gross, does that mean you don’t want me to kiss you goodbye?” 

My shoulders stiffened at that. There’s no way I can leave without a kiss from mommy… but I just made a big deal about how gross it is. Daddy says a real man never goes back on his word. Will letting mommy kiss me goodbye mean I’m not a real man? 

I clenched my hands at my sides, my facial expression serious as I tried to hold my ground. 

“Sorry mommy, but I can’t kiss you goodbye.” 

Mommys’ smile turned sad, making my heart clench painfully. “I see… that makes me a little sad. My little boy is already becoming a man. Kids really do grow up so fast.” 

My hands clenched tighter, my knuckles turning white from it. I can do this. I can be a man and leave the house without a kiss from my mommy. It’s what a true man would do! 

Mommy reached out, running her fingers through my orange hair gently. I always loved when she did that. It was something soothing that she usually did when I had trouble sleeping at night. She and daddy would let me lay in bed with them and she would just rub my head till I fell asleep. 

Guilt filled my chest, making my fists slowly unclench until my hands were just limp at my sides. As mommy started to stand up, I quickly threw my arms around her neck and hugged her before kissing her cheek. She seemed surprised but the expression quickly turned to one of pure happiness as she wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek in return. 

“I love you, Hajime. I hope you have a wonderful day with daddy and grandpa.” 

I smiled letting her go. “I always have fun with grandpa.” 

“Hey, what about me,” daddy asked crossing his arms. 

I smiled up at him. “It’s fun being with you too daddy. Grandpa is cooler though. He always wins when you guys fight.”  

Since they both own dojos, they always spar and let me watch them. I’ve never seen daddy win. He claims it happened once, but grandpa won’t tell me whether it’s true or not. With how strong grandpa is, I don’t believe it. 

Daddy scowled at that for a moment before just laughing. “Yeah, grandpa is pretty cool.” 

He kissed mommy one more time before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the house. I went with him, glancing at how much bigger his hands were compared to mine. Seeing the size of his hands always makes me wonder if mine will look like that someday. I can’t imagine myself as a grown up, but if I think about it, I feel like I would look just like daddy. 

The older people at the main estate say I already look like him. It’s rare for us to go there, but when we do, I hear a bunch of whispers and even a few scorns directed at daddy. They make it sound like looking like him is a bad thing. The way daddy reacts to it isn’t any better. He smiles at them, but it’s not the one he always gives mommy and I. It seemed… nervous. 

I don’t know why the older people talk about daddy, or why it makes him so uneasy. Once I asked mommy about it, and she just smiled like always and told me it’s something I don’t need to concern myself with. That didn’t feel true though. 

Whatever they are hiding… it feels important. 

“Are you excited to train with Grandpa today,” Daddy asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

I smiled, looking up at him. “Always.” 

Daddy was the one who was teaching me martial arts, and I loved learning from him. It was also fun learning from grandpa. He teaches me things that he taught daddy at my age, and he tells me stories about what daddy was like while he was being trained. 

I want to say that Daddy was grandpa’s most skilled student, but I can’t after seeing Uncle Yuki kick him far enough to end up on the other side of the yard. It was shocking for sure. Uncle Yuki didn’t seem like someone who knows how to fight. 

He doesn’t know how to cook or clean, so I guess there had to be something he’s good at. He makes really pretty flowers and yummy veggies in his gardens. That’s a skill I guess. It’s just not as cool as daddy’s. 

“I’m sure he’s excited to train with you. It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to come over. Knowing him, he’s going to dote all over you the moment we get there.” 

That made me smile wide. Grandpa always gave me tight hugs and read me the best books. He also gave me presents every once in awhile. 

We were down the street from the dojo and I could already see Grandpa waiting by the door. He smiled and waved as he saw us approaching. Letting go of daddy’s hand, I ran the rest of the way, holding my arms out to him laughing. Once I got to him, he grabbed me by the sides and lifted me high into the air, over his head. I laughed more, loving every time he did that. It always felt like flying and the air I breathed always felt a little bit clearer. 

“Master, be careful. You aren’t as young as you used to be. Someday you’re going to throw out your back,” Daddy said, when he finally caught up to me. 

Grandpa lowered me but kept me in his arms. I wrapped mine tight around his neck, laying my head on his shoulder happily. 

“He’s not heavy at all. You’re looking well Kyo. How is Tohru?” 

Daddy shook his head before taking me out of grandpa’s arms, making me whine. “She’s doing great. The beginning signs of pregnancy hit her a couple of days ago. She was getting sick a lot, but it seemed to have passed. She said she was sorry she couldn’t make it today.” 

Grandpa shook his head, leading us inside. “It’s no problem. Sounds like your second child will be born strong and healthy.” 

Daddy nodded, setting me down on the floor once we were in the family room. “It’s still pretty early. She isn’t even showing yet. We are both hopeful that they will be born safe though.” 

I tried not to think about the new baby coming. The thought of having to share mommy and daddy’s attention was not something I was happy with. Not only that, I will have to share grandpa too. 

Grandpa beamed at the thought of another grandchild. He would always bug my parents about having more kids and they finally got around to it. I’m not sure how they did it. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Aunt Hana has those freaky wave powers. Maybe there is magic that puts babies in people. 

We all sat at the table on the floor, and grandpa grabbed a dumpling from a bowl and held it out to me smiling. “Here Hajime, have a treat.” 

I smiled excitedly, taking it from him and biting into it. It was so sweet and didn’t taste like ash, meaning he got them from the market and didn’t cook them himself. 

Speaking of that, daddy was glancing around, stretching his neck out to peer into the kitchen for signs that grandpa had tried cooking again. He was horrible in the kitchen. As daddy says, ‘he can kick ass like nobody's business, but he can’t boil water.’ 

“Whatever are you looking for Kyo,” he asked, watching him. 

Daddy gave him a blank stare. “You know damn well what i’m looking for. Signs of a fire.” 

“I promised you I would stop trying to cook and I meant it.” 

“I have a hard time believing that,” he sighed, unzipping his bag and pulling out the bento mommy made. He set it on the table before standing up and going to the kitchen to get some plates. 

Grandpa watched him go before smiling at me. “How have you been Hajime? Do you like school?” 

I shrugged, glancing away. “I guess… all the kids make fun of my hair color. Mutsuki isn’t in the same grade, so I'm all by myself.” 

He smiled sadly at that. “Kids can be cruel sometimes. Your dad used to get picked on all the time because of his hair.” 

“Why does daddy have orange hair grandpa? Did daddy’s other parents have orange hair?” 

He shook his head no. “It was a special genetic trait.” 

A lot of us seemed to inherit ‘special genetic traits’. Mutsuki has his daddy's gray hair, while Riku has a mix of white and black like Uncle Haru. A lot of our aunts and uncles have weird hair. Mutsuki’s uncle Ayame had plain white hair. 

“What about the baby? Are you excited about having a brother or sister?” 

I quickly shook my head no. “I don’t want to share mommy, Daddy, or you.” 

He chuckled at that. “It can be hard to adjust to a thought like that. You’re used to getting all of our attention. Don’t think that me or your parents will love you any less with another kid around. You will still have the same amount of love that you always get.” 

I shrugged, looking down at the table. “What if mommy and daddy can’t love the both of us?” 

“The love of a parent is the strongest power in the world Hajime. It doesn’t shrink or weaken. It only grows bigger and bigger. There will always be a place for you in your parents' hearts. In mine as well.” 

His words made my chest feel warm, just like mommy’s words always seem to do. Grandpa reminded me a lot of mommy. He was nice, and always said things that make you feel safe and comforted. I strive to be half as amazing as he and mommy are. 

Daddy came back with the plates and set the table before distributing out the food mommy made. Once it was all plated, I thanked him for the food before grabbing my chopsticks and breaking them apart. I held them as steadily as possible and struggled to pick up a slice of omelette, dropping it every time. 

Daddy reached over and steadied my hand better, teaching me how to properly hold the sticks. I tried again but still kept dropping my food. He smiled slightly at my effort before reaching into the bento box and pulling out a fork. It seems mommy was prepared for my not being able to hold the sticks. 

He held the fork out to me and I pouted, reaching out and grabbing it. I didn’t want to have to use it. I wanted to show grandpa just how much I’ve grown. That wasn’t working out too well. 

“You held those chopsticks great Hajime. I’m sure soon you will be using them like a pro,” Grandpa acknowledged, trying to spare my feelings. 

I just silently ate, listening to him and daddy talk about mommy and how one of the guest rooms is being turned into a nursery for the baby. 

After lunch was done, we walked down to Grandpa’s dojo. Well, I practically ran there. I couldn’t help it, I was just so excited to see them spar with each other. It was always so cool to see the way grandpa barely has to move around to avoid getting hit by daddy. Daddy says his movements have become slower with old age, but he still can’t get a punch in. 

We got there and Grandpa got low to the ground smiling at me. “Show me how much stronger your punches have gotten, Hajime,” he said holding up his hand. 

“I don’t know grandpa. Mommy says my punches are very strong, I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” 

Grandpa looked up at daddy with an amused face, making him laugh. “Tohru likes to encourage him.” 

I pouted angrily. “Are you saying mommy lied? Mommy never lies, I am super strong.” 

Grandpa looked at me again, still holding up his hand. “Well then show me.” 

I nodded getting in my stance and taking a soothing breath. All my power had to be put into this one punch, to prove to them both that I’m not a weak little kid. I’m a man and I can fight just as hard as they can. 

My fist flew toward grandpa’s hand before making contact, slamming into it so hard grandpa’s hand got pushed back a little. That made me smile and I looked up at him smugly. 

“See that, I moved your hand because I’m so strong.” 

He shook his head before pulling me toward him, just to painfully flick me on the forehead and send me falling on my butt. I groaned, putting my hand over the spot he flicked. It was warm and hurt. 

“You are getting stronger, but you shouldn’t be cocky about it. There will always be someone stronger than you. Never underestimate your opponent or get too comfortable in your level of strength.” 

Daddy rubbed his own forehead as if feeling sympathy pains. I’m sure grandpa flicked him all the time as a child. 

“Why don’t you go sit on one of the benches so you can watch us?”

I nodded, getting up and doing as he said. 

They both got into a fighting stance before daddy ran at grandpa, jumping in the air and trying to kick him. Grandpa moved out of the way, not even lifting his arms as he dodged each one of daddy’s attacks. 

I laughed shaking my head at daddy. No matter how much he tries, he never gets one over on grandpa. 

They went on like that for an hour until Grandpa finally put daddy out of his misery and punched him in the face, sending him to the ground. I covered my eyes before peeking through them, seeing daddy was laying on the ground laughing. Only grandpa can make someone like daddy laugh at being punched. 

“Okay, you won this round master. I swear I’ll win the next one,” he said standing up and dusting himself off. 

Grandpa chuckled at that and scruffed up daddys hair. “I can be eighty years old and you still couldn’t get one over on me.” 

Daddy smirked at him. “Just you wait, I’ll prove you wrong.” 

Grandpa smiled sweetly at him before looking over at me. “Perhaps Hajime will be the one to finally beat me.” 

I nodded enthusiastically before jumping off the bench and running over to them. I threw a punch toward grandpa but daddy caught my fist before it could connect and flipped me, making me land on my back with a grunt. Daddy laughed at me, shaking his head. 

“You have to be able to defeat me before you can even get close to beating him.” 

I pouted at that, knowing he was right. I can’t even beat daddy in a fight yet. My training only began last year. He’s still teaching me the basics. 

“Fine, then I will beat you. I will beat you and then I will beat grandpa!” 

Grandpa smirked at that before looking at daddy. “He sounds like you when you tried to beat Yuki.” 

“His goal of beating you is unlikely as me beating Yuki,” daddy responded, making me huff. 

Daddy pulled out his phone, looking at the time. “Oh, Tohru should be getting done shopping with Machi by now. We should head home. She wanted us to go to the store with her to get the ingredients for dinner.” 

I gasped excitedly, getting up off the ground. “Are we going to help mommy make dinner?” 

Daddy smiled, picking me up and holding me over his head, just like grandpa did. I laughed and held my arms up, loving when he did this too. He set me back on the ground looking back at grandpa. 

“You’re free to come over for dinner if you want. I’m sure Tohru would love to see you.” 

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be having dinner with my wife. She was hoping you all would come over next weekend though. She wants Tohru help her with a new recipe.” 

“I’m sure she would love that. I’ll bring it up to her.” 

He nodded and stroked my head smiling. “Thank you for spending the day with me Hajime. I always love getting to see you.” 

I jumped into Grandpa's arms, wrapping my arms tight around his neck in a hug. “I love you too, Grandpa! Will we get to do this again sometime soon?” 

He nodded hugged me tight. “Very soon I hope.” 

Daddy took me from him before setting me on the ground and taking my hand. “Let’s get going little man. Mommy will be waiting for us. We don’t want to keep her too long.” 

I nodded squeezing his hand and waved to grandpa one more time before walking away with Daddy. 

“Did you have fun spending time with grandpa,” he asked looking down at me. 

I nodded smiling excitedly. “I can’t wait till the next time we see him. Next weekend can’t get here soon enough.” 

Daddy shook his head smiling, squeezing my hand as we made our way back home. 

“No, no it can’t.”

[nitewrighter]

High Elf Cleric

A Fic for @the-legion in exchange for some AMAZING art of Aedan.

This fic is taking place after the events of Breach but before Dragonback.

----

The Lindholm’s workshop on the watchpoint was always a little stuffy. The cold fluorescent lights battling it out against the warm glow of the boilers and the smelter. Brigitte chewed on her thumbnail as she studied the schematics before her eyes flicked back up to Aedan, Rei, and Rajeev sitting across the desk from her.

“Did any of you guys clear this with Winston or Jack?” she said, tucking one of the locks at her temple back.

“Well--” Aedan glanced off awkwardly.

“We cleared it with Marti. We figured Jack would be more open to the idea if we came prepared,” said Rei, “Plus, now that Marti’s strike team is down a medic...” Rei trailed off.

“Down a--?” Brigitte glanced up at Rei, “..you’re taking Hana’s offer?” 

“Just until I can get the dragon back,” said Rei, “It’s what’s best for the strike team.” Rei’s gut still stung with the words, but she knew the whole watchpoint knew by now. 

Brigitte raised her eyebrows and brought her hand up in a ‘No judgment’ gesture before she looked over at Aedan. “You’ll be taking her place?”

“Not replacing her,” said Aedan, “Just...making sure we’re not short-handed in the meantime.”

“He’s been training with us, he’s got inside knowledge on Talon, and he’s well past the vetting process,” Rajeev added.

“And I know he can handle the pressures of the field,” said Rei.

“And you made Rei’s and my armor!” said Rajeev.

“I only made 40% of your armor, Rajeev,” said Brigitte with a slightly wry grin, “The rest is hard-light.”

“Still...” Rajeev trailed off.

Aedan nervously ran a hand through his hair. “What are your thoughts on it?”

“Well, speaking as a medic, one of the most important aspects of your job is having your team’s trust, so if Marti’s cleared you, that’s all the reassurance I need.”

“And... speaking as an engineer?” said Rei, pointing at the schematics.

“Oh!” Brigitte glanced down, “It’s pretty solid. The uh... color scheme’s interesting.”

“I just figured it was easier than spray painting, ‘Not with Talon’ on my chest,” said Aedan, “And well.. I’ve thought a lot about Samir saying we should treat our mission fatigues more like a uniform, and we can’t exactly wear the blue of the old Overwatch... so...”

“If I could make a suggestion?” said Brigitte leaning forward.

“Please,” said Aedan.

Brigitte set the holo-tablet down in front of her and pressed a button on it, turning the image on the screen into a 3-dimensional hologram. “Your... rig, you called it?”

“Biotic rig,” said Aedan.

“Well you’ve obviously been able to scale it down from your Mother’s model,” said Brigitte, “Less bulk, that’s good, but it’s more delicate. The thing about the Valkyrie armor is that it’s designed more around speed than protection. With your fade, you don’t need to worry about that as much. You’re modeling your armor after Doctor Ziegler when you might be better off modeling it after...um...”

“...Reaper,” said Aedan, glancing off.

“Marti based a lot of her uniform on old Blackwatch armor,” said Brigitte with a shrug, “You go with what works.”

Aedan still looked troubled. 

“Well, we don’t need to give you a big edgy cloak,” said Brigitte, “But..” she picked up a tablet pen and traced out some pauldrons in three dimensions in the hologram. “A bit more protection here on the shoulders and back. Protect the main node of the rig. And the boots--we could change those. You’re not going to be prancing on valkyrie shock-absorbing boots. We could get you some armor there, too.” Brigitte traced out some greaves on the model’s shins as she spoke.

“...That doesn’t look much like Reaper,” said Aedan, leaning forward.

“Different looks, similar functionality,” said Brigitte.

“I like the shin guards,” said Rajeev, “Null Sector slicers can be hell on the shins.”

“I like the pauldrons,” said Rei, “They make you look... heroic.”

“Heroic?” Aedan repeated. He never really imagined himself being remotely associated with the word.

“Yeah! You’re a High Elf Cleric!” said Rajeev.

Both Aedan and Rei gave him an odd look.

“What?” said Rajeev, “I mean--I’m not the only one who sees it, right?”

“Well ‘cleric’s’ a lot less pressure than ‘Angel,’” said Brigitte, a slight chuckle shaking her voice.

“So you’ll help us make it?” said Rei.

“Been a while since I’ve been able to work on something more than just repairs,” said Brigitte, “Yeah, I could do with the challenge.”

“Thank you,” said Aedan.

“You’re a lifesaver, Brig,” said Rajeev.

 “Oh I know,” said Brigitte with a smug wave, “I’ll make it so long as Rei here promises not to forget about us when she’s a big-time movie star.”

“I’m just going to be an intern,” said Rei, folding her arms, “And even then it’s just until I get the dragon back.”

“Right,” said Brigitte, making eye contact with Rei, “Right...”

----

“...so you’re really going through with the Glitchbot thing,” said Rajeev. He was sitting on her bed, leafing through one of her manga volumes as late afternoon light streamed through the window, watching as Rei cleaned out her closet. It had been a few days since the workshop.

“You were there when I told the whole strike team,” said Rei.

“I know it’s just... the fact that Brig knows... that makes it feel more real,” said Rajeev, setting the book down at his side. He pushed some of his own long hair back from his face. “Is it because you don’t think you can fight without it? Because y’know, even without it, wings and a sword... still pretty good combo.”

“Like I told the strike team, if there’s an emergency, you can call me back,” said Rei, “But fighting without the dragon it--it--” she huffed, “I don’t know how to explain how... hollow it feels. It would be like you fighting without knowing Samir’s watching your back.”

Rajeev’s face dropped. “Does it feel like that... all the time?” 

“No, sometimes it doesn’t hurt as much but... Dad and Uncle always acted like... because the dragon healed, it meant I was making a new future for the Shimada clan,” she pulled an armored headband out of the closet, one of her Father’s old ones, and lightly ran her fingers over the contours of the battle-scuffed steel, “One where we’re good. Without it--I feel wrong. I feel like I don’t have a right to lift a sword. And I can’t just make Mom’s wings a vehicle for a sword. That’s not what the Valkyrie wings are for. Getting the dragon back is the only way any of this will feel right again.”

“...you think you’ll get it back in Hollywood?” said Rajeev, standing up from the bed.

“No--I mean--I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here and watch everyone else fighting when I’ve had this--this chunk taken out of me,” Rei pressed a hand to her forehead, “I can’t give up on it, but I can’t stay here. Does that make sense?”

“Hey--hey--it’s okay,” Rajeev touched her arm, “Yeah. It makes sense. And Jack’s always saying this fight was never meant to be ours.”

“But it is our fight, and it is our home---” said Rei, “But--” her voice dropped a little, “If... if it never comes back... maybe it’s a sign. Maybe staying in this, we’ll just end up repeating our parents’ history...”

Rajeev’s fingers mindlessly went over his prosthetic eye, just barely brushing against his wadjet tattoo.

“And I know it’s this... big awesome legacy for you,” Rei went on, “But for me, it’s all assassinations and vengeance on my dad’s side, and death and grief on my mom’s. We should have a chance to be our own people.” 

“I get it,” said Rajeev, his fingers lowering from his tattoo.

 “And that’s why it’s important that Aedan should be the medic while I’m gone. He’ll do great things with you guys. I just know it. He shouldn’t have to live in his mother’s shadow,” said Rei.

Rajeev gave a huffing chuckle, “You know you’re going to break his heart when you go, right?”

Rei reddened and then huffed, “Oh come on, he’s all... science-y. He understands. I’ve already talked to him about it.” She thumped her knuckles against his chest, “Plus keeping you alive is going to be a full time job for him.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten better!” said Rajeev.

Rei put her hands on her hips skeptically.

“A little better,” Rajeev conceded, “And... I’m going to miss you, too, but I support you. I’ll keep them safe while you’re... doing your thing.”

Rei smiled. “Thank you, Rajeev.”

Rajeev spread his arms and Rei snickered and fell in to the hug. His hugs were second only to Reinhardt’s--big, tight, and all-consuming. Rajeev held up a fist as they broke away.

“‘Got-Our-Ass-Handed-To-Us-By-Talon’ Club?” he said.

Rei bumped his fist with her own. “ ‘Got-Our-Ass-Handed-To-Us-By-Talon’ Club,” she said with a smile.

----

About a week and a half after that first workshop visit, the four of them were back in the workshop, Aedan standing with his arms spread out awkwardly as Brigitte made sure the plates of his armor moved as intended.

“It’s not too heavy on the chest?” said Brigitte.

Nothing a bit of strength training won’t fix, Aedan remembered his own mother’s voice as he looked down at the armor, but it wasn’t as heavy as the Talon armor. He gave a glance to Rei--right... that morning he was trying on his armor was that same morning when she had come crashing into his life with all the beauty and catastrophe of a comet.  Try fading, Moira’s voice still sounded in his mind in the memory.

Aedan thoughtlessly turned to smoke and Brigitte winced back from him, hard, the word “Fan!” escaping her.

“Sorry!” Aedan said as he reformed, “Sorry, just... wanted to make sure it, uh... fades.”

“A little warning next time?” said Brigitte.

“Right,” said Aedan, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Try out the rig!” said Rajeev.

Aedan flicked his wrist and sent out a plume of biotics with one hand, then reabsorbed them in a vortex of nanites with the other. “Seems to be in working order,” he said, alighting biotic orbs on both hands, “I don’t suppose anyone has a mirror?”

“Athena?” said Rei, “Can we get selfie mode on the big monitor?” Athena extended her biggest monitor in the Workshop. The screen blipped and Aedan saw himself projected, caught in the glow of the white of his own outfit.

“...High Elf Cleric,” Aedan said a little dumbly, looking at his projection.

“See?! That’s what I said!” said Rajeev, moving into the frame of the monitor to swing an arm around Aedan’s shoulders.

“I like it,” said Rei, stepping into frame on Aedan’s other side, “It suits you.”

“Let’s just hope your mum doesn’t kill me for cribbing the Valkyrie color scheme,” said Aedan with a nervous chuckle.

“Eh, she’s had her own suit upgraded for a while, and we did say we wanted to give our strike team more of a uniform look,” said Rei with a shrug. She smiled. “Besides,” she added and ruffled his hair, “This one matches your hair.”