#as if they exist on the same playing field or deserve serious attention for their puddle-deep insight lmao.

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[jisungsmochi]

confessions - park jisung

jisung x reader / jisung being whipped / fluffy, lil angst / hope it makes you feel something lmaoo 

word count: 8.7k 

mini playlist: 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny 

Falling - Chase Atlantic 

Enchanted - Taylor Swift 

summary: confessing to your crush was always daunting. but how else were you supposed to let them know how you truly feel? y/n has learned the hard way, always being the confessor rather than the one being confessed to. oh how she wished that one day, someone will have the courage to tell her how they feel, without her always having to make the moves...

//

“i like you”

“ew, you’ll give me cooties”

y/n was barely seven years old when she confessed to her very first crush, lee donghyuck. he rudely rejected her offer to play marbles during lunch, but she wasn’t fazed. she plastered a bright smile on her face, calmly nodding at the little boy,

“cooties aren’t real, it’s probably just germs from not washing your hands!” she snickered, turning on her heel as she made her way to a shaded area in the quad. she left donghyuck speechless that day, slightly bruising the young boy’s ego. how could she be so calm when her very first crush had harshly rejected her? she always tried to display a cheery exterior to her peers, she found it embarrassing if people caught her crying over some boy. so she pushed her feelings aside until she was alone.

when y/n was twelve, she had grown a crush on her desk mate, jeno. he was quiet most of the time, only speaking to her when he needed answers for homework, but she was whipped nonetheless. he was undeniably handsome, especially for someone their age. how was that even possible? she would intently watch him play soccer with his friends on the school oval, softly cheering every time he made a goal. jeno had noticed when she attended his games, often smiling at her from the field.

after weeks of innocent stares in the hallway and short conversations during class, y/n decided it was time to confess to lee jeno. she came up with the cute idea to write a small note to him during class, it read:

hi jeno!! i think you’re really cute, and a great soccer player. i also have a crush on you...would you go out with me?

tick yes or no

she had written the letter in sparkly pink ink, folded it gently before sliding it over to jeno’s desk. the confused boy swiped the card over to his side, slowly opening it. her heart was beating out of her chest. jeno started scribbling on the paper, causing her to furrow her eyebrows, all he needed to do was leave a tick?

jeno returned the note to her, a soft smile plastered on his face. her eyes scanned over the note, landing on his answer. the ‘yes’ box was ticked, followed by a short sentence under it,

would this mean you’re my girlfriend?

tick yes or no

she couldn’t help but smirk at his charms, immediately ticking yes. from that day on, jeno and y/n began dating. but when you’re going through your pre-teen years, things get really dramatic. jeno ended things with y/n after only three months of dating, which seemed like forever for a twelve year old. he dumped her over text, as many pre-teens did back then. she put on a brave front, acting as if she was okay with it all. it wasn’t even a serious relationship, but it was still her first. of course it hurt. but she continued to suffer in silence, no one needed to know.

when y/n was fifteen, almost turning sixteen, she befriended huang renjun. they were always aware of the other, often hanging out in the same cliques. it was the school’s swimming carnival, when she began getting closer to him. after donghyuck had accidentally pushed her into the pool, too caught up with chasing mark around, renjun came to her rescue. he offered her his towel, wrapping her up tightly as he sat and chatted with her while the others scolded donghyuck. he was a great conversationalist, always having something new to talk about. y/n adored that about him. from that day onwards, she would message him back and forth, almost becoming a daily occurrence. they would skype call after school, catching eachother up on any drama or daily events in their early high school lives. she started falling for him, fast. but there was one downfall to renjun. he would never acknowledge y/n at school. whenever he was with his friends, he pretended like he was merely acquaintances with the girl. it hurt her to see him act like nothing was happening between them. word got around that renjun had a crush on somebody. as usual high school gossip goes, the signs led back to y/n. her friends would cheer her on to confess to him, so would his friends. they believed they would be a strong couple. so she decided to take measures into her own hands, opting to confess to huang renjun.

y/n approached the boy during lunch, interrupting his conversation with jaemin.

“can i talk to you, uh privately?” her voice wavered as she spoke, but she stood her ground. renjun looked over at his friends, jaemin raising an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to go with her. he eventually gave in, keeping a slight distance from the nervous girl as they walked around the school grounds together.

“what did you want to talk about?” he coughed slightly, feeling an immense amount of awkwardness around them.

“i wanted to tell you something” she started, now stopping in their tracks. renjun gulped, a guilty feeling beginning to rise in his stomach.

“i like you, renjun. more than a friend” she finally spat out, trying to read the reaction of the boy across from her. but renjun remained silent, eyes avoiding hers. y/n felt deflated, why the hell wasnt he saying anything?

“i-thank you” he stuttered, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him. thank you?

“i mean thank you for telling me, it’s nice that you’re so honest” renjun tried to smile, but she didn’t budge. he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.

“you know what, just forget i said anything, bye renjun” y/n rolled her eyes, fed up with this constant rejection that seemed to follow her around. why couldn’t she get a happy ending? just for once. why did she have to settle for less than what she deserved? not only did she get rejected by a crush that day, she lost a great friend. y/n swore that she would stop focusing on chasing other’s affections. what was the point? she was just going to get rejected anyway. atleast that’s what she always told herself. those memories always stuck with her, and she refused to ever feel so dejected in life. she wouldn’t let this happen again. she just wanted someone to confess to her for once, would that really be so hard?

park jisung was a simple boy, cruising through life with little to no worries. all he wanted to do was finish high school, he dreaded it more than anything. everyday was the same for him, waking up to the same alarm, riding his skateboard to school, sitting for what seemed like forever, then going home to rest and repeat. he never took notice of those around him, why would he? it’s not like he was going to stay in touch with many of them after school finished. except for his best friend, chenle, he could never escape him no matter how hard he tried.

it was the first day of junior year, when jisung found himself placed in a seating plan for his modern history class.

‘is this really necessary?’ he mumbled to himself, shuffling to his assigned seat. atleast it’s by the window, he thought to himself.

y/n strolled through the halls, making her way to her first period class, modern history. a new year, a fresh new start. she waltzed into the room, noticing students gathering around the seating chart. she found her name, whipping her head around the classroom, eyes landing on a messy haired boy next to the window. she shrugged to herself, not recognising him at all. as she made her way to the desk, jisung suddenly perked up. she was stunning. it may have only been nine in the morning, but seeing her was enough to completely wake the previously tired boy up.

“hey, i guess we’re deskmates” y/n greeted politely, taking a seat right next to the timid boy. jisung was thinking of something witty to say, but nothing was coming to mind.

“y-yes we are” was all he managed to let out. y/n just nodded at him, eyes focusing on their teacher who had called the attention on the room. but jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off her. how had he never seen her before? she was practically glowing, her soft features accentuated by the light. he was breath taken by her, despite only having shared simple greetings.

y/n felt the boy staring at her, but decided not to call him out on it. she promised herself to not get involved with anyone this year. it would only bring her eventual rejection again. so she tried her best to ignore park jisung, it was the only way to get him to lose interest.

“i don’t think she’s too fond of me” jisung confides in his best friend, chenle as they sit under the bleachers, munching on their lunch.

“can you blame her? you probably ask her too many unnecessary questions” chenle smirked, teasing his pouty friend.

“no, i don’t even talk to her much, she just refuses to acknowledge my existence” jisung lets out an exhausted puff, thinking back to his numerous attempts to atleast become acquainted with his desk mate. firstly, he tried greeting her brightly each morning, in which she would only raise her eyebrows before pulling out her books for the class. secondly, jisung attempted to ask her questions about class work, in which she shushed him, pointing over to the teacher who was speaking. even after class, she would immediately pack her things before he had the chance, rushing out the door as if she was the flash or something.

“sounds like she just isn’t fond of people in general. does she even have any friends?” chenle questioned, trying his best to pull his friend out of his solemn state.

“i-i’m not sure, i mean she has to have atleast one friend...right?” jisung started thinking to himself. if he couldn’t get her to talk, maybe her friends would.

“you might be playing with fire here, is she really worth getting to know?” chenle scoffed, slightly admiring jisung’s determination.

“you never know unless you try, right?” jisung took a bite of his sandwich, there has to be a way for y/n to open up to him.

//

“i heard that park jisung has been going around, asking about you” one of y/n’s longest friends, ningning, suddenly brought up. y/n looked at her as if she was crazy, what is up with this park jisung dude?

“what does he want with me?” she rolled her eyes slightly, flipping through her history textbook.

“maybe he likes you? or maybe, he just wants to be friends. why are you so harsh to him anyway?” ningning sighed, memories of seeing her friend cry over boys now cluttering her mind.

“i don’t need any more friends. i have you, and like...sungchan” y/n shrugged, continuing to take notes as she read.

“i think you’re being unreasonable, he seems really nice. give him a chance” ningning tried persuading her friend but y/n was stubborn. she wasn’t going to get wrapped up in any unnecessary drama. maybe she was being a little rude towards jisung, she could cut it down a bit. but being anything more than classmates was not in the cards for her at all.

the following monday morning, jisung entered the classroom, skateboard attached to his hip.

“mr park, the skateboard stays at the front of the room, we’ve been through this” mr kim warned the tired boy, earning a subtle nod from him. jisung gently placed his skateboard against the wall, before making his way to his desk. he was surprised to see that y/n was already seated, scribbling down all sorts of things in her planner. jisung let out a soft cough, signalling her to raise her head to face him.

“could i uh get to my seat?” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. he was more shocked to hear her response,

“oh of course, sorry jisung” he froze after she finished speaking. was this real life? was y/n really acknowledging him right now?

she scooted closer to her desk, allowing space for the tall boy. jisung quickly snapped out of his thoughts, rushing to sit down. she couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at his antics. it didn’t go unnoticed by jisung.

“may i have your attention? as you all know, it’s now the middle of the term. to test your knowledge, i want you guys to pair up with your desk-mates and make a presentation on a historical topic of your choice. please refer to the assessment outline for more information”

jisung was practically beaming after hearing ‘pair up with your desk-mate’. his eyes shifted to the girl next to him, who seemed quite pleased. she looked over at him, simply nodding, acknowledging their future partnership. did he wake up in some type of alternate universe?

“uh jisung, i really want to do well in this subject. so we should probably get started as soon as possible” y/n gently tapped the side of his desk, drawing in his attention.

“oh yeah, for sure. w-when did you want to start?” he stumbled over some of his words, catching her off guard, making her softly smile.

“maybe tomorrow? do you have a free period?” she continued the flow of the conversation, making jisung feel more at ease.

“uh yeah, just before lunch” he responded, watching as her face lit up.

“oh great! me too, we can work at the bleachers, barely anyone goes there anyway” she confirmed, writing down the extra details in her planner. jisung couldn’t stop staring at her, how could she do such simple tasks, yet look so beautiful?

all he had to say was, thank you mr kim.

//

y/n patiently waited for jisung to arrive, typing up random notes on her laptop. she was onto her second paragraph when she heard the huffing and puffing of someone next to her. jisung hurriedly sat down next to her, needing to take a deep breath.

“a-are you okay?” she questioned, shutting her laptop, turning her body to face the boy. jisung just nodded, holding up a finger before speaking.

“i just had chemistry with Mr Jung, he wouldn’t let us leave until we could recite the first twenty elements on the periodic table” jisung finally felt relaxed, taking out his water bottle, consuming a concerning amount of water. her mouth created a slight ‘O’ shape, grasping the situation.

“i had to sprint here, i always get stuck past Sodium” jisung continued rambling, allowing y/n to simply stare intently. she didn’t mean for it to seem creepy, but she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his constant ramblings.

“a-ah sorry, we should probably get started” he shook his head, pulling out his own laptop from his bag. y/n nodded at his words, unsure of how to continue a conversation with him. it had been a while since she spoke to someone outside her inner circle of two people.

after about forty minutes of hardcore work, y/n’s eyes started wandering around. she caught sight of the boys soccer team, who were preparing for their lunch time practice. jisung’s eyes followed hers,

“you like soccer?” he blurted out, trying his best to start a conversation with her. she nodded softly, the side of her mouth curving upwards.

“yeah, i do. i’m no good at it, i just like watching. do you?” she questioned him back, eyes now focusing on him.

“of course, my parents weren’t so subtle, naming me after a famous soccer player and all” he joked, watching as the girl across from him started hysterically laughing. oh how he adored her laugh.

“oh my god, i didn’t even realise! they must have been onto something! why aren’t you on the team?” she furrowed her eyebrows, jisung bit his lip nervously,

“ah yeah, contrary to popular belief, i suck at soccer and didn’t make the team.” he sighed, feeling slightly embarrassed. y/n paused momentarily before opening her mouth,

“ah who cares! we can just watch together from the stands then” she shot him a soft smile, relieving some of the tension jisung had previously felt. the bell for lunch rang through the field, signalling that their free period had come to an end. jisung was about to pack up his things, when he noticed that y/n was still sitting, eyes glued to the players on the field.

“hey, it’s lunch now” jisung gently tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of her mini trance. y/n just nodded,

“oh i know, i was just going to watch them practice and eat my lunch here” she explained, turning her head back to the field. jisung held the strap of his bag tightly, thinking to himself momentarily. chenle can wait, he thought to himself. jisung plumped his bag to his side as he returned to his seat right next to her.

“what are you doing?” y/n questioned the boy,

“what does it look like? i’m keeping you company” he just smiled, pulling out a packet of chips, offering her some. she couldn’t hide how entertained she was, kindly accepting his offer. they continued to watch the soccer team practice, eyes scanning for the best players.

“that jeno guy is pretty good, i’m kind of jealous” jisung pouted, causing y/n to start giggling.

“am i wrong? like who wouldn’t be jealous of lee jeno? he’s got like everything! he’s athletic, and good looking and probably gets lots of chicks” jisung praised,

“wow jisung, sounds like you have a crush!” y/n teased the boy, softly nudging him. jisung froze at the sudden contact, he liked how playful you started being with him.

“don’t you? he’s kind of a catch, i thought girls would be all over him” jisung shrugged, watching as she slowly became quiet. he was startled by her reaction, feeling heat rise to his cheeks immediately.

“d-did i say something?” he muttered, unsure whether or not she was upset.

“n-no you didn’t. i mean, lee jeno was my first boyfriend, so i can say i’ve been there and done that!” y/n let out a small scoff, she noticed that jisung had now grown concerned.

“it was nothing though, we were like 12, and he dumped me over text. hasn’t spoken a word to me since though” she sighed, eyes scanning back to the boy in question. jisung was unsure of what to say next. y/n knew she had just over shared, she couldn’t help it. once she started, sometimes she couldn’t stop. she knew it would make jisung feel uncomfortable, part of her regretting it immediately. but when she saw the boy shoot her a cheeky grin, all her worries washed away.

“it’s good to hear that one girl at this school doesn’t have a crush on lee jeno” was all he said, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“why’s that?” she curiously questioned,

“because that means i have a chance” he just smirked, head turning to focus back on the field. y/n was speechless. was he really being serious? or was this just some playful joke? she chose not to respond, feeling heat rise to her ears and cheeks. since when was park jisung such a flirt?

//

“come on, it’ll be fun” ningning whined as she sat with y/n and sungchan at the bleachers.

“yeah, you’ll get to see me play for the first time since i got on the team” sungchan begged, watching as y/n debated to herself.

“okay fine, not like i have three assignments to do that night” she sighs, giving into her friend’s peer pressure to attend friday night’s school soccer game. ningning and sungchan high-fived eachother, slightly surprised by her response. y/n’s gaze drew to the one and only park jisung, who was currently trying to do some weird skateboards tricks with chenle. she couldn’t pull her eyes away, finding it amusing whenever he made a mistake and tried to awkwardly cover it up. ningning snickered, catching onto the entire situation.

“park jisung huh? guess it’s finally time for you to put yourself back out there?” y/n snapped out of her trance, now glaring at her friend.

“n-no, what are you talking about? i wasn’t even looking at him” y/n immediately became defensive, sungchan deciding to step in.

“you totally were, in fact i’m sure you have a little bit of drool at the side of your mouth” he playfully teased, pretending to wipe off ‘drool’ from her face. y/n shoved his hands away from her, softly pouting.

“guys, he’s just a classmate. i said i wasn’t going to get involved with anyone, remember?” the annoyed girl reiterated to her friends, who weren’t buying the act at all.

“you can’t shut off your feelings, you know? it’s clear that you’re interested in him, even if it’s the tiniest bit. and you already know he’s interested in you too! why can’t you see that?” ningning sighed, feeling sorry for how hard y/n was on herself.

“because things will get messy. i’ll end up falling harder and ruin everything. it’s not going to happen again, i won’t let it” y/n looked down at her hands, gripping her water bottle tightly.

“maybe he’s different. he’s not going to be another jeno, or renjun, or donghyuck even. just keep an open mind, you have to start lowering your walls” sungchan pulled his arm around y/n shoulders, allowing her to rest against his side. ningning held her hand in y/n’s, gently stroking the back of her hand with her thumb. inside, y/n knew her friends were right. but something kept telling her that she was going to end up broken by the end of it. she really hoped that park jisung would be different. she needed him to be different.

//

y/n and jisung were halfway through their assignment, sitting next to eachother in the school library during their free period.

“damn, we are doing pretty well, way ahead of the schedule you had planned for us” jisung teased, eyes shifting to the page of scribbles, indicating the tasks for the assignment. y/n let out a scoff, pulling her planner towards her,

“don’t diss my planning okay? it’s just a rough outline!” she pierced her eyes at him, watching as he just smiled back at her. why does he keep doing that?

“you going to the soccer game tonight?” jisung nervously stammered, trying to play off as if he didn’t care too much about it. y/n only smirked at his words, placing down her pen before responding,

“may i ask why you’re asking?” she leant back in her chair, watching as jisung shifted his position so that he was directly facing her. she held her breath for a moment, not realising how close he actually was to her right now.

“because i’m going, and i was wondering if you wanted to watch it together. you know, since we are just the spectators rather than the players?” y/n wasn’t sure why she felt so...flattered, he really was unknowingly charming.

“oh yeah, i’m going, but i’ll be sitting with my friend” she tried to push the idea of her and jisung sitting alone for two hours in the cold, out of her mind. but jisung wasn’t going to back down so easily.

“oh great! i’ll bring chenle too, we can all sit together” he smiled widely before returning to type on his laptop. y/n let out a soft sigh. it doesn’t look like he will be giving up anytime soon.

//

y/n and ningning were both cozied up together on the bleachers, eyes on the lookout for sungchan. they locked eyes with the tall boy, waving at him erratically, causing him to respond in the exact same manner, gaining looks from his team mates.

“oh i sure hope they win, otherwise we’re making him buy us hot chocolate, i’m freezing!” y/n huffs, her breath now appearing infront of her.

“someone say hot chocolate?” the familiar voice rang through her ears. jisung was now seated next to her, two cups of hot chocolate in his hands. her mouth was agape, watching as the boy handed her friend one cup, then offering her the other. ningning kindly thanked him, gently nudging y/n’s arm.

“and one for my favourite desk mate” jisung snickered as she gently took the cup from him.

“hey! i thought i was your favourite desk mate!” chenle, who was on the other side of jisung, whined. jisung let out a scoff, softly shoving his friend,

“that was three years ago, things change” chenle continued to sulk, jisung not paying any attention to him. y/n couldn’t hide her amusement, taking a small sip from the warm cup of goodness.

“thanks jisung, i’ll pay you back” she offered kindly, reaching for her bag, but jisung stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. y/n’s eyes shifted from his hand, to his face. jisung quickly removed his hand from her wrist, placing them into the pockets of his large coat.

“it’s on me, take it as a thankyou, for being such a great partner” a soft grin was plastered on his face. y/n just nodded, continuing to sip on the drink. the game had finally started, cheers of their fellow classmates echoed throughout the stands. sungchan played his best, assisting jeno in scoring the winning goal. the group of four in the stands, wailed at the top of their lungs, gaining the attention of those around them. y/n couldn’t stop laughing, continuously slapping jisung’s arm as she did so. jisung couldn’t stop looking at her. all he could think about was how gorgeous she looked in this light, the state of pure happiness she was currently in. it was enough for him to fall harder for her. along with her, not so gentle, slaps to his arm, jisung could swear he was in heaven.

“i-i’m sorry, jisung” she quickly calmed down, now realising how hard her slaps actually were. jisung shook his head,

“its okay, i’ll be your human punching bag any day, if it means you’ll hang out with me more” he smirked, causing her mouth to open slightly. was this guy even real? how could he come up with such cheesy lines?

“you’re an odd character, park jisung” y/n slightly shook her head in amusement, allowing her arm to brush against his as they sat closer together.

“it’s one of my best qualities” it sure was.

after the game ended, sungchan ran up to the group, jumping up and down, still pumped from his win.

“you did amazing!” y/n engulfed him into a warm hug. jisung watched the interaction unfold, part of him wishing you would be comfortable enough to embrace him like that one day.

“thanks for coming guys, i really appreciate it” sungchan smiles over to jisung and chenle who were aimlessly standing.

“anyone wanna get milkshakes or something? on me” chenle suddenly pipes up, watching as everyone’s face lit up.

“and this is why you’re my best friend” jisung pulled the other boy by his shoulders as the rest followed the pair. it was short drive in sungchan’s car, to the nearest diner. y/n was slightly shivering whilst in the car, jisung immediately noticed. he debated on whether or not to offer her his coat, but didn’t want to seem too persistent about it. as y/n stepped out of the car, she felt strong shiver throughout her body. jisung pushes his prior worries aside, immediately slipping off his coat, draping it around her shoulders.

“o-oh you don’t have to do this, jisung” she tried to decline, but the boy refused.

“nope, you’re cold and i’m already warm in this hoodie, just accept it” he convinced her, not taking no for an answer. as the five of them stepped into the diner, ningning made a beeline for her favourite booth near the back window. she slid herself into the booth, with sungchan next to her. y/n slide herself in the seat across from her friends, jisung quickly shoving in right next to her, chenle on his other side, once again. ningning gave y/n a playful smirk, eyes scanning over the overly large coat she had on. y/n raised her eyebrows, eyes straining, warning her friend to not mention it.

y/n’s eyes shifted over to jisung, who had started a conversation with sungchan and chenle about some new video game that was coming out soon. she watched as he threw his head back in laughter, continuing to argue with chenle about who was the best avatar in the game.  she then noticed how he balled hands into fists, gently rubbing them against the surface of his pants. he would occasionally blow on them, trying his best to get some warmth. she felt guilty for taking his coat, but knew he would do anything in his power to have her wear it. so she swallowed some of her pride, reaching for his hands. jisung froze at the sudden contact, trying to not make it obvious to the rest that he was now disengaged from the conversation entirely.

“w-what are you doing?” he muttered, moving closer to y/n, which made her slightly blush. she pulled his hands into her lap, wrapping them in the excess material of the oversized coat.

“they looked cold, i’ll warm them up for you” she softly smiled, and jisung swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest. was this real life? it couldn’t be, it had to be some crazy dream he was having.

y/n noticed the sudden shyness from jisung, heat now rising to his ears. she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him adorable. her heart racing as the close contact.

the rest of the night was spent chatting away between the five of them. from how lee donghyuck got suspended for putting shaving cream in the soccer coach’s cap, to the dreaded mid term exams that were approaching. y/n wished she had participated more in the discussions, but her thoughts were too preoccupied by park jisung. his hands still rested in hers, her fingers slowly beginning to smooth over his own, making his heart skip beats. he felt himself lean in closer to her as the night went on, practically crushing her against the window, but she didn’t mind.

“we should get heading home now, our parents are probably wondering where we are” ningning pouted as they all raised from their seats. jisung didn’t want to pull his hands away from y/n’s, making the bold decision to intertwine their fingers as they left the diner. y/n’s eyes widened at his actions as he smiled down at her. they sat in the back of sungchan’s car, as y/n felt her head lean on jisung’s shoulder, her hand still holding his. her eyes slowly became drowsy, ready to fall asleep.

“you two are really cute” ningning whispered, not knowing that y/n was listening intently,

“t-thanks” jisung whispered back, trying his best to hide how happy he was by the comment.

“so are you confessing?” chenle snickered, causing jisung to roll his eyes,

“i want to take things slow. i want her to like me back first” jisung sighed, reaching to brush some of y/n’s hair from her face.

“oh trust me dude, she likes you. she just won’t admit it yet” sungchan smiled to himself, happy to see y/n finally start opening up again.

“good, cause i’m in it for the long run” oh park jisung, who wouldn’t fall for him?

//

when jisung got to school the following monday, he saw y/n standing at the front gates, swaying slightly. she was wearing black stockings with a plaid skirt and a creme coloured sweater vest. but she was wearing something else that caught his eye.

“goodmorning jisung” she greeted the boy, fast paced walking to meet him. jisung smiled softly at her, pulling his skateboard to his side.

“goodmorning, y-you’re wearing my coat” he pointed out, causing her to freeze slightly.

“o-oh yeah, do you mind? it’s been pretty chilly lately” she wrapped herself tighter, eyes facing the ground. jisung felt a swarm of butterflies emerge in his stomach, she really had that effect on him.

“it’s totally okay, you suit it better than i do” he softly chuckled, beginning to walk alongside her, arms brushing against eachother.

“you gotta stop saying stuff like that” y/n sighs, waltzing through the school hallway, to their history classroom.

“and why should i?” jisung playfully teased, tugging on her sleeve, turning her to face him. her hands instantly went to his chest, not realising how close he had pulled her to him.

“b-because” she spoke barely above a whisper. jisung’s eyebrows furrowed at her,

“because it’s making me feel things” was all she said as she pulled away from him, rushing to her desk. jisung couldn’t help but admire her awkwardness. he was slowly getting there, she had partially admitted to having feelings for him. but he knew she wasn’t going to fully admit it anytime soon. he had to make the first big move...but he needed some outside help.

//

“is there a reason why we are hiding from y/n right now?” ningning whispered, face to face with jisung.

“i want to confess to her” he blurted out, ningning’s eyes widening in shock.

“you want to confess to her?” she repeated, mind still trying to wrap around the situation.

“uh yes? is it so hard to believe? i thought i made it pretty obvio-“

“no no, i know you like her. it’s just that, she’s never EVER had a boy confess to her before. it’s always been her making the moves” ningning explains, jisung’s mouth pressing into a firm line.

“she’s not used to this type of attention. like where the guy is genuinely interested in her as a person, and the things she likes. she’s used to always getting to know the guy, doing everything in her power to gain some type of feelings for her. then she ends up hurt after she realises that she fell harder than they did for her” jisung would be lying if this wasn’t hurting him. how could they do that to someone as caring and loving as y/n?

“how do i show her that i’m different?” jisung stammers, nerves slowly taking over. ningning just giggles,

“you’re already half way there. trust me, she knows inside that you’re not like the rest. you just have to hit it out of the park with a bomb ass confession! here’s what i’m thinking...” ningning continues to whisper to the boy, jisung stringing along to every word. operation confession for y/n was underway.

//

“hey, are we ready to hand in our assignment?” y/n approached jisung just before class. he responded with an affirmative nod, pulling out the ten page report from his backpack. her eyes widened at his efforts, admiring how prettily he presented the report.

“j-jisung” she stuttered, flipping through each page.

“i had some spare time last night, don’t mention it” he winks at her as she felt heat rise to her cheeks. she quickly moved to her seat next to him, trying her best to hide her face with her hair. but jisung noticed, smirking to himself. could she be any more adorable?

“there’s another soccer game on friday! did you want to sit together again?” jisung turned over the the girl next to him, catching her completely off guard. y/n looked over to jisung, his face completely softened, his eyes practically begging her to say yes.

“y-yeah i’d like that” she nodded, silently cheering that she would get to spend another night with park jisung. the plan was now in motion.

//

jisung was standing under the bleachers, awaiting y/n’s arrival. chenle approached him, giving him a slight pat on the back.

“you ready, buddy?” chenle whispered, a cheery expression on his face. jisung slowly nodded.

“yeah, the worst she could say is no” jisung tried his best not to psych himself out, reviewing his confession in his head.

“they’re here” chenle announces, eyes drifting to y/n and ningning. jisung took a deep breath, moving slowly towards the pair of girls. y/n was the first to notice him, shooting him a small smile, meeting him halfway.

“good evening ladies” chenle greets, making ningning giggle.

“oh please, we are barely ladies” she sighs, stepping past groups of people to find a seat for the four of them. chenle followed her in suit, with y/n and jisung straggling behind. jisung nudged y/n’s shoulder, giving her a small nod. she returned the gesture, feeling slightly awkward. but she pushed it aside, happy to spend another evening with jisung. she noticed that throughout the game, jisung’s leg kept bouncing up and down. she sensed he was nervous about something, it was either that or he was just really cold.

“do you want my coat to cover your legs? i brought an extra blanket with me” y/n whispered to jisung, causing him to halt his movements. he looks over at her, as she was halfway to taking off her coat.

“why don’t we just share the blanket?” jisung slyly comments. now it was her turn to freeze. she looked over at him, lips pressed in a firm line. as she placed her coat back on, and pulled out the blanket, jisung could feel his heart pumping faster than it had ever before. this was a good sign, right? she must like him back...right?

y/n gently placed the half the blanket over his knees, moving herself closer to him to gather warmth. she didn’t say much to him after, too focused on the game they were watching. but the position they were in right now, was all that was on jisung’s mind.

the game ended with a close win by sungchan’s team. although everyone was celebrating, it was noticeable that sungchan was not proud of how he played.

“dude don’t beat yourself up about it, it happens to the best of us” chenle tried to comfort. sungchan just nodded, not wanting to talk much about it.

“okay grumpy pants, let’s go get some food” ningning pulls the sulky not by the arm, chenle on the other side of him, doing the same.

“you two coming?” ningning calls from behind her. before y/n could answer, jisung reaches for her wrist, stopping her in her path.

“c-could i steal y/n for the night?” jisung didn’t let go of her wrist, watching as their three friends all had identical smirks.

“sure thing, see you two tomorrow” chenle winks, rushing off with the others. y/n’s face contorted into utter confusion. the feeling of jisung’s warm hand wrapped around her wrist made her nervous. he let out a short cough before letting go.

“what did you want to talk about?” she questioned, allowing multiple students to pass by her. jisung didn’t respond immediately, pulling her to sit at the bleachers again. he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a pink folded piece of paper. her eyes were immediately drawn to it, but part of her was still wondering what this entire debacle was about.

“i-i don’t want you to read this yet. well until i tell you what i have to say” jisung mutters, hands becoming sweaty. this was such a different jisung to watch y/n was used to seeing. he always made witty jokes out of any situation, and was barely ever...nervous.

“go on” she urged, eyes still glued to that piece of paper. jisung cleared just throat, eyes finally meeting those of the girls across from him.

“i have a crush on you” those words had y/n stunned. her mouth became agape, no proper words able to be formed. jisung decided to continue,

“i know that you aren’t looking for a relationship or anything. and you’ve been hurt before. but i just had to tell you. i couldn’t keep it inside anymore” he finally admitted, shoulders now slouching. his eyes wavered from hers at times, but they were now drawn to his hands. y/n wasn’t sure how to respond. this was her first ever confession. the first person to actually have interest in her first. she wasn’t used to this at all. jisung was a nice guy, she knew he was. but was he the guy for her? or was she just struck with the idea of him confessing first? did she even really like him that way?

jisung noticed the mini debate occurring in the girl’s mind, part of his ego becoming bruised. y/n wanted to say something articulate back to him but she couldn’t find the right words.

“uh t-thanks for telling me, jisung. it must have taken a lot of courage” that wasn’t the way he expected things to go, but he continued listening to her.

“but are you really sure you like me? like really sure?” y/n questioned, the idea still not wrapping around her head. jisung was in disbelief, was he not obvious enough?

“i’m more than sure. i’ve liked you ever since i’ve met you” he mutters, feeling completely dejected.

“t-that’s not possible. you didn’t even know me then” she shook her head, eyes drifting to the hurt expression that was now on jisung’s face.

“i didn’t need to. you were so beautiful to me. i had to get to know you. i thought i made it pretty obvious that i liked you. but i guess i should have done a bit more, maybe save myself the embarrassment” he mumbled the last part to himself. his words striking her right in the heart. she didn’t want to come off as rude or unappreciative. but how was she meant to know this wasn’t some kind of joke, or if his feelings were true.

“is it really that hard to believe that i like you?” jisung tried his best to remain calm, but he wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and lay in it.

“yes. it is. because guys don’t confess to me. they just don’t. they don’t fall for me first” she continued to tell herself, watching as jisung’s face flatten.

“you can keep thinking that. but it’s not true. i’m living proof. i really thought you liked me too. i must have misread this entire thing” hearing those words stung her heart. she did like jisung. maybe not as much as he claimed he liked her, but she definitely had feelings towards him as more than a friend. but she didn’t feel ready, for any of this.

“jisung, it’s not like that. i like you too, i just don’t think i’m ready” she whispers, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. jisung could barely look at her, an overwhelming wave of embarrassment washing over him.

“when will you ever be ready? because by the looks of it, it seems like you never will be” jisung shook his head, forcefully brushing through strands of his hair. y/n moved closer to the boy, placing her hand onto his shoulder. she felt him tense at the contact, his eyes finally coming back up to meet hers again.

“i-i don’t know when i’ll be ready. i just need some time to think about it” she sighed, not wanting to rub more salt into the wound. jisung only nodded in response. there was no use trying to convince her any further. jisung accepted her reasons, even though he held resentment towards her for initially rejecting him.

“i’ll give you some space. let me walk you home atleast” jisung stood up, offering his hand to her. y/n cautiously took his hand in hers, slowly walking alongside the tall boy.

silence filled the air on their walk home. the only sounds being heard were the hoots of owls and screeching of cicadas. jisung had let go of her hand along the way, which pained her to admit, she missed his touch immediately. as they made it to her front door step, jisung was in a rush to get home, ready to sob his eyes out. but y/n stopped him.

“i understand that you’re upset. trust me, i know how it feels. but i hope you can see where i’m coming from” she mumbled as jisung nodded along to her words.

“it’s fine, i get it. i’ll just give this to you now” he pulled out the folded paper from earlier, handing it over to her.

“if you still don’t believe i like you, that should give you a sign about how much i actually do. have a nice night” he shrugged at her, turning his back to walk away. she watched as he left her driveway, head hung low. she shook the thoughts out of her mind, opening the door to her house. she didn’t bother looking back at jisung, closing the door behind her. but just as she entered her home, jisung’s gaze lingered on her. how could she have hurt him so much in such a short amount of time, yet he still felt the exact same about her?

park jisung, you are a fool. he thought to himself on his way home. how would he move on from this?

//

after the long night she had, y/n wanted nothing more but to sleep her problems away. but as she held onto the pink paper in her hands, she knew she wasn’t getting any sleep. she seated herself on her bed, carefully unfolding the paper, her heart racing.

“dear y/n,

if you’re reading this, i’ve just confessed to you. and you’ve most likely rejected me. i understand why you did it, i really do. i just couldn’t hold it inside any longer. i know you aren’t looking for anything serious at the moment. but i want you to know that i’ll be waiting for you. i hope that one day you realise how amazing you really are, and how i would be the luckiest guy in the world, to have you reciprocate my feelings. i honestly feel like you’re out of my league. i mean, you’re so confident in yourself. and you never let people bring you down. you’re so optimistic about such trivial things, it’s started to rub off on me a bit. i appreciate the sweet moments we’ve had together, and i hope you do as well. i don’t want to lost hope, that’s something you’ve taught me. you’re now nearing the end of this awfully structured letter, and i just want to say, that you deserve the world, and i can be the guy to give it to you. if you just give me a chance.

- park jisung (you already know who it’s from i just wanted to sound formal okay bye)”

y/n suddenly felt tears stream down her cheeks. for once in her life, she felt truly appreciated and cared for in return. of course she could see herself with jisung. it wasn’t a hard decision for her to make up her mind about it. but her constant doubts always held her back. it wasn’t fair to jisung at all, to keep him stringing along. she needed to make a decision, quick. there was no way she was going to hurt this boy.

//

the following monday morning, jisung patiently awaited y/n’s arrival in class. he nibbled on the side of his lip, tapping his pen rapidly on the desk. other students asked him to stop, as they were getting annoyed at the sounds but he couldn’t help it. he was praying she read the letter and didn’t just discard of it.

just as he was slipping into his own thoughts, he felt a sudden slam of books on the desk. his eyes met y/n’s as she sat down next to him. his quickly broke eye contact, flipping through his textbook as if he was studying. but she caught on to the boy’s antics, tapping him on the shoulder. jisung froze at the contact, looking over at the girl, who was still wearing his jacket.

“this is for you” she pulled out a small jar of origami hearts, sliding it over to his side of the desk. she felt heat rise to her ears, slightly embarrassed at the sweet gesture. jisung was practically speechless, his heart beating at a rapid pace.

“wow thank you, i love it” he gave her a gentle smile, eyes suddenly disappearing. she only nodded back, unsure of how to continue.

“i read your letter” she got to the point, jisung’s attention fully attended to her.

“i didn’t realise you felt so deeply about me, jisung. i thought you just had a silly crush, maybe that’s why i thought it would be easy to push you away. but you never let it go. and i’ve never had anyone do that for me before. so thank you” y/n barely whispers, feeling her palms begin to sweat. which was only something that happened when she was extremely nervous.

“what i’m saying is. you’re not like the guys i’ve liked before. you like me for me, and you genuinely want to be with me. so would you consider going on a date with me to the movies this weekend?” she cautiously suggested, watching as the boy’s face lit up in utter glee. he wanted nothing more but to pull her close and swing her around as he hugged her. but they were still in class, he needed to be tame...for now.

“i would freaking love that” he chuckled, causing you to smirk at his response.

“i’m glad you accepted my confession, i would have given you the silent treatment if i really tried” jisung pouted, making a fake angry expression, crossing his arms. she gently slapped his shoulder, laughing at the boy’s ridiculous antics. if this what it was like dating park jisung, then bring it on.

//

[ three months later ]

“come on! sungchan shoot!!” ningning’s voice echoed through the stands, the whole crowd geared up for the school’s soccer grand final. y/n and jisung were bundled up together, sipping on their hot chocolates, silently praying for that grand final win. there was only a minute left, jeno passed to sungchan and...he scores!

all the students from their school

jumped up, screaming endless cheers at the team. ningning waved her mini flag she made with sungchan’s face on it, as y/n and jisung hollered with the crowd.

“you did so great out there” y/n complimented her friend, like many times before, pulling him into an embrace. she saw how jisung slightly pouted, missing her warm touch. she slipped perfectly back to his side, his arm instantly wrapped around her waist as the crew made their way to the diner. jisung held y/n back, offering to meet the rest later on. y/n was yet again confused, following her boyfriend’s steps to sit on the bleachers.

“what’s up, sung? everything okay?” she pouts, watching as jisung nervously looks up at her.

“i love you” he blurts out, hands covering his mouth once he does. her eyes widen, not expecting those three words to leave his mouth at all. she pressed her lips into a firm line, her mind comprehending the situation. jisung was left worried, trying to read her expressions as best he could. he hoped he didn’t scare her away, it would completely ruin him.

“you’re just in luck” jisung’s head whipped up and met her. “because i love you too” y/n whispered, inching closer to the boy. his hands gently stroked her cheek, it was slightly cold but she didn’t mind. her lips fanned over his, ready to press them together. as she did so, jisung smiled widely into the kiss, hands coming to squish her cheeks together. it made both of them giggle for a bit, breaking the kiss momentarily. before jisung pulled her back in.

y/n soon realised that she didn’t need to live in fear of rejection any longer. because jisung gave her every ounce of reassurance she needed. the boys from her past slowly fizzled away from her memory, jisung now taking place as the one boy who truly loved her.

a/n: pls let me know what you all think!! 

[girl-in-the-tower]

Idia and Vita 3, 5, 6, 10, 12, 13, 15, 16, 21

3. Describe their relationship dynamic.

I want to say that they’re a mix between a gamer couple and a goth one, haha.

Though more seriously, they’re the sort of stable relationship that gets stronger with time I would say, in that they both understand each other so well they function very well when they have to be in sync. They both consider the other to be that one person who gets where they’re coming from, but also to hold them accountable when they mess up. Idia knows quite well that Vita won’t let him get away with anything if she thinks he’s in the wrong, and neither will he hold back from criticizing her if he thinks it’s deserved. They exchange banter quite often. It’s not unusual to see them trash talk each other, even when they’re on the same team since they can be quite competitive.

They both push each other to improve in subtle ways. Because they’re both geniuses they tend to have a lot of conversations where they’re play-fighting ideas, trying to find the flaw in the other’s argument and this often helps them look at things from different perspectives. Their fields of expertise are quite different but they do make an effort to keep up with the other’s research.

Vita tends to be the more dominant one simply because she has a more forceful personality in general. She knows what she wants and how to get it and won’t let anybody get in her way, which usually means that she leads and Idia follows. At least on the surface. In private they tend to be on equal terms since they feel more at ease, but Idia doesn’t complain about letting Vita be in charge when they’re out in public. It means that he can avoid talking with other people, after all. Or at least that is what it should mean theoretically, but instead, Vita keeps nagging him about being more confident and self-assured. She is a proponent of tough love.

Vita also tends to be the more physically affectionate one between the two of them, though usually in private. In public, she mostly sticks to teasing him instead. Though Idia claims to find it annoying and unwelcome, he doesn’t really tell her to back off either and even returns her affections occasionally when he gets around his self-conscious nature. It’s quite usual for Larna and Ortho to catch Vita playing with Idia’s hair, or Idia massaging her shoulders when they’re gaming together.

Their online gaming friends usually joke that they’re a package deal - MoodySamurai and IronQueen. Their coordination is scary to behold since it almost looks like they’re reading each other’s minds, knowing exactly what the other needs even before they ask for it. They tend to share their victories and even other aspects of their gaming lives - such as both of them usually getting into the same types of games. Though when it comes to gacha games they tend to have vastly different tastes and get quite competitive with one another too.

Because they’ve known each other for so long, they find it easier to be honest with the other and as a result understand the other better than themselves at times. They take their status as equals quite serious too, though they do have one major source of constant conflict: Ortho’s existence. Vita is rather wary of the young boy which Idia finds distressing, but even though they agreed not to bring this subject up again it still continues to bother them. They know they should talk about it, but Idia’s aversion towards conflict, coupled with Vita’s tendency to default to supporting Idia in situations of such importance means that they haven’t resolved anything yet.

5. How would they describe each other?

Idia often says that Vita is like the villainess of an otome game: haughty, arrogant and needlessly cruel. She tends to look down on others and criticize them as she sees fit, though he also doesn’t seem to find that a bad thing either. Idia would also remark on Vita’s intelligence and drive, which he might criticize as too much for an otaku like him, but he does think her driven nature suits her well. He has admitted more than once that when it comes to knowledge regarding medicine and the human body she’s an expert. He also notes that she’s very attractive, often in comparison to himself, and would then follow up by saying that based on looks they’re not matched well at all.

Vita often defaults to praising all of Idia’s qualities - by which she means the things she herself finds attractive in him, such as his intelligence and devious nature. She is especially fond of his occasionally haughty outbursts and encourages him to be more open with his opinions just to catch a glimpse of it. She finds his interests endearing too, especially his enthusiasm for his games and idol group. It does come across that she holds him in high regard even if she does end up criticizing him a lot and she also makes no secret of the fact that she’s smitten with his odd, ghoulish appearance. Idia isn’t sure if he should be flattered or not.

6. What do they love about each other?

They both admire each other’s intelligence, to be honest. The fact that they can keep up with the other’s thought process and understand their motivations to such an intimate degree while other people might find them difficult to interact with means that their bond is very strong. Not that they would really say this out loud, since Idia thinks only normies are so open with their feelings and Vita believes there is no point in stating the obvious. They each appreciate how devious the other can be since it means they can test out whatever plan they are considering right now by running it by the other, though given that they often do this by stating it’s “just a thought” it might lead to some arguments regardless.

Idia’s stubbornness is charming to Vita as well. She admires strong convictions, even if she does not necessarily agree with some specifically, and adores it when he starts to speak his mind without holding back. She’s also professed several times that she is in love with his odd appearance, the strangeness of it having a certain appeal to her and she makes it a point to compliment him on it as often as possible. Idia always claims she’s just making fun of him but this doesn’t really deter her at all. If she wants to speak her mind she will, regardless of his complaints. She’s known him long enough to be aware that underneath it all he does enjoy being praised like that and is simply putting up a front after all.

For Idia, Vita’s strong will and confidence are very attractive. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, and often will deflect when asked about what he thinks her qualities are, but he feels more at ease knowing he has a mentally strong partner like her. She’s not prone to falling apart or displaying clinginess and for a hermit like him, it’s comforting to know that they can live independently from each other even when they are in a relationship. He doesn’t feel suffocated by the attention and that makes him appreciate her more. He also thinks that her appreciation for the macabre is oddly cute, though he isn’t sure what exactly it is that makes him think so.

10. What are their love languages?

For Vita, it’s Quality Time and Physical Touch! As long as she’s in Idia’s presence she feels content and at ease. They mostly just play video games or discuss various matters, personal or work-related. But given that Vita generally acts very facetious towards others, she finds such moments where she can be unapologetically truthful very relaxing. It also helps that when they’re gaming, Idia is usually too distracted by what’s happening on the screen to actually notice that she’s moved closer to him and by the time he does, Vita has already settled in her new seat and has no intention of leaving any time soon. It’s really at times like this that he can’t help but remark how cat-like she really is.

Idia likes Words of Affirmation and Receiving Gifts! He’s got a bit of an ego hidden under all that self-deprecation which usually comes out when he’s praised and makes him get a bit ahead of himself, and as Vita is acutely aware of how much he enjoys being complimented she makes sure to always chime in with a comment or two. It really makes him feel better to hear her say such things even if a big part of him still refuses to fully believe it. However, when it comes to gifts he’s more straightforward. Since Vita usually gets him merchandise of his favourite shows and/or idol group he tends to be very picky when it comes to the quality and appearance. It can be quite a handful buying gifts for him due to how high his demands usually are, but Vita has him figured out already so it has become increasingly easy during the years.

12. What would happen if they never met?

I’ve talked about this before, but if these two had never met, I believe Vita wouldn’t really have had the drive to go against her mother. She’d have continued to act and behave according to her expectations which would have led to her building up a lot of rage and resentment with no outlet for her feelings. She’d also have lacked any semblance of support and encouragement, as though Idia is not particularly good at cheering people up, he’s never commented negatively on her pursuits in a serious manner. He’s always let her behave as she saw fit, which in turn made her more eager to reclaim her independence. Had it not been for him, I think that she’d grown up to be really the opposite of herself thus much colder, more formal, very ladylike in all her behaviour and extremely intolerant of others. She’d never have befriended Agatha or even stayed too much in Idia’s presence. For her, he’d simply have been the disgusting heir of the Shroud family that they’d have to avoid.

For Idia, I think that Vita gives him another rock to lean on. Somebody who has his back and will not falter in front of any possible difficulties they might encounter. I think that is something that he really wants in his partner since he does tend to be the type who gives up easily if he encounters too much opposition. Having Vita at his side, makes him feel a little more confident in himself as there’s somebody on his side, but also keeps him in check since she refuses to let him fall by the wayside.

13. Who dies first? How does the other one react?

I’m thinking Vita dies first, most likely of old age. Idia feels like the world is coming to an end since he never imagined not having her in his life, though with the support of their children and Larna he manages to pull through. He respects her wishes to bury her in the family crypt but asks Mors to hold off reanimating her until he passes away as well since he knows he wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing his wife moving about but not recognizing him at all. He spends a lot of his days as an old man working and talking to a picture he has of her on his workbench, and when he also passes away he’s buried alongside her. At Morta’s request neither end up being reanimated, but just preserved, since she feels it would be better like this for both of them.

15. Describe your favorite moment of that ship!

I think their whole childhood together qualifies! As childhood friends, and due to having been engaged since young, they ended up spending a significant amount of time with each other which led to their present-day familiarity. They’re not sure how, but they somehow both became fixtures in the other’s life and thus had shared quite a few moments with each other.

Among the most significant ones had to be when Vita received Larna as an engagement present from the Shrouds. The puppy was a Jupiter Conglomerate breed that had its typically violent nature suppressed and would thus serve as a faithful companion instead. Its strength made it quite a formidable bodyguard as well, and his friendly nature towards her really surprised Vita. She had not been allowed any pets before as her mother considered them dirty and high-maintenance, but even she couldn’t actually refuse such an extravagant gift without bringing shame to the family.

Vita ended up bonding with the hellhound rather quickly, as did Larna to her and the two were inseparable after that. To Idia, who was also interested in the idea of a cool pet like that, it seemed incredibly unfair that Vita should have one when he didn’t. He ended up feeling quite resentful over it for a while, much to Vita and Ortho’s confusion, who weren’t sure why he seemed so out of sorts whenever he came over to the Dies mansion or Vita and Larna came over to theirs. Larna had shown quite a lot of interest in Idia as well, so it wasn’t like the dog was ignoring him, but Idia still seemed rather content with casting himself in a victim narrative. Moreover, it took Vita a while to realize what his issue was and once she did she proposed to him that they could share the dog. She would be the mother and he could be the father, so it would be like they were playing house together and he’ll have just as much claim over him as she did.

Though Idia took it mostly as a victory since he obtained what he wanted, to Vita is was more like a promise that they would stay together for a long time as hellhounds like Larna tend to live very long and often past their owners’ death. Idia agreeing to have co-ownership to the dog meant that he was willing to keep them both in his life for a long period of time, which to Vita, who had recently come around to the idea of being engaged to him, became a very pleasant notion. In a way, it was their own version of reinforcing their engagement even if Idia wasn’t entirely aware of the implications. Or if he was, he didn’t want to admit to them.

16. What do other characters think about this relationship?

Most are surprised to find out about their engagement, I imagine, and out of everybody, Ortho is perhaps the most supportive. He sees Vita as part of the family already and it makes him glad to see that Idia feels at ease around her and is more open and confident. Together they often end up trying to convince Idia to go outside more and interact with others.

Vita’s family is against the relationship, however, mostly on account that Vita’s mother fears that their reputation as the Death Mages will resurface once again due to their connection with the Shroud family. She vehemently opposed the union back when it was proposed and even now forbids Idia any access to their house or even the mention of his name. She would rather pretend that this whole relationship doesn’t exist.

Idia’s parents and Vita’s grandfather on the other hand regard this relationship as a very good opportunity to achieve what each of them wants. In the Dies’ case, they require financial support and a means of preserving their family traditions through any means necessary and the Shrouds can provide, while getting in return the secrets to transmutation that the Dies guard very carefully against prying eyes. To them, it’s a very fortuitous union since both sides are being happy with their situation now to a certain degree.

21. What’s a really significant moment in their relationship?

Their fight during the Culture Festival at Night Raven College, I would say. Mostly because it is the one incident in which neither of them really backs down so it leads to a lot of tension and an exchange of words neither really mean, but can’t take back either. It causes a bit of a fracture in their relationship since they’re too prideful to admit that they messed up and once Vita says they won’t be able to see each other for a while it really leads to an even bigger misunderstanding between them, that only festers due to the events that take place in episode 6. Yet, in a way, this could have been a fortunate turn of events as well, due to the fact it means that both of them were forced to realize how much they care about the other.

Vita’s return home, made her realize that she misses the freedom she has with Idia, as well as the support he inadvertently gives her. When they’re together, Vita feels like she’s finally in control of her own situation and can conduct herself as she sees fit. She’s treated like an equal, like somebody who also has a voice and isn’t just a pawn to be shifted around at the behest of someone else. Without Idia, she feels like she’s lost her partner in crime and her support system.

Idia also realizes the many sacrifices that Vita has always made for him, and continues to make regardless. He’s always taken for granted the fact that she would be by his side, and now that he’s faced with the reality of it all, he isn’t sure how to proceed. Without Vita to keep him more grounded, he slips much easier into his tendency to disassociate with everything around him and indulge himself in his coping mechanisms. He hasn’t realized how much he needed and appreciated her presence and care until he had to do without it.

They really become more appreciative of each other after that.

[feeling-weirdy]

Prompt - Vision and Wanda have a discussion about having family and children, set during the time between CW and IW.

It was pure habit at this point.

At the end of their walks, Vision would take Wanda around the nearby playground that was just outside of the hotel they frequented.  Her face would light up seeing the children play, sometimes stopping to watch them for several minutes.  The look on her face was unmistakable.  Even as a synthezoid, he knew full well what she was thinking.

And the very knowledge of this broke his heart.

He couldn’t give her what she wanted.  She had to have known that.

Vision was sure to give her the space she needed and allowed her to enjoy the activity of what she called ‘people watching’ from the sidewalk.  From time to time, one little boy, in particular, would call her over to play and the pain that Vision felt deep within his chest cavity grew to a level he did not know existed.

He sat casually on the park bench, eyeing the love of his life with uneasiness and apprehension as she lit up in a way that he had never noticed before.  They had talked about a great many things during their short times together, very rarely actually touching on a possible future together.  Wanda had made it known that she wanted to focus on living in the moment and would quickly shrug it off were he to ever bring it up.  The action, which he was sure she meant to help ease his mind but instead sent the wheels in his mind into overdrive.

Waving at him from the middle of the playground, Wanda looked positively happy and Vision did his best to mimic her expression.  Forcing the corners of his mouth to tug into a distinct smile that was sure to fool her into thinking he was doing okay on his own.  The frown that immediately replaced her features told him that he failed.  Wanda quickly handed the ball back to the little boy and walked briskly across the playground to the exact bench that Vision had occupied.

Her head fell to the side, worry filling her eyes as she carefully watched him.

“You doin’ okay over here?”  She asked, refusing to sit so that she could watch him clearly.  Vision smiled at her, folding his hands in his lap as he leaned back against the bench.

“Of course, whatever gave you that idea?”

Wanda’s face fell, her lips tightening against her face while he responded.  “Because I know you...and you’re not a very good liar.  What’s going on?”  Vision sighed softly, a quiet chuckle escaping from his lips.  During their time together, she had become more intuitive when it came to how he responded to her.  She had become well adept at picking the small mannerisms that seemed prominent across his features.  He was unable to hide that from her, despite his wishes for more tact.

Vision’s eyes fell to the ground, the forced smile instantly disappearing as he struggled to keep himself from spilling over.  He wouldn’t be able to stay silent were she to keep prodding.  She always had a way of pulling things out of him regardless of what information that may be.

“I’d rather not ruin your afternoon with your new friend.”  He nodded back toward the boy who had instantly forgotten about Wanda and had instantly found a way to entertain himself as he played by himself.  

“Spill.”  Wanda’s eyes sharpened, reaching down to take hold of one of his hands and recapturing his attention.  “You don’t have to keep things from me, you know?”

“I-”  Vision stopped himself, nodding curtly.  He pushed himself up to his feet, wrapping her arm around his and leading her away from the screaming children.  They were going to need more privacy if they were going to have this serious of a conversation, and he was more than happy to pull her away from the source of his fear.  “Walk with me, please.”

Wanda exhaled, watching him intently as he pulled her to the side.  “Vis, you’re kind of freaking me out.  What’s bothering you all of a sudden?”

“Wanda...”  Vision started, unsure of exactly where was the best place to do so.  Surely she knew, but it had to be said.  Out loud.  “Do you ever wonder about our future?”

Relief washed over her face, squeezing his hand as she gazed up at him.  “Sometimes...but, we’ve talked about this.  Is that what’s gotten you so worried?”  The smile that graced her face was almost heavenly, a blissful happiness that was no doubt connected to the notion that they would be able to spend the rest of their lives together.  Vision could feel himself getting lost in her beauty over and over again.  She deserved far more than what he was able to give her.

“Those were always playful banters rather than serious conversations,” Vision reminded her, running a smooth finger along her forehead to pull a loose strand of hair out of her face.

“I suppose so...”  She trailed off, chuckling softly as she ran a finger along the false skin that covered his forearm.  “So what...you want to have a serious conversation right here in the park?”

“I just thought that a home...of some sort would be beneficial for us...one day.”  Vision struggled with his words, a familiar process that never seemed to go right for him.  

“I home of some sort would be great.”  She giggled, reaching up to place a small kiss along his lips.  “The Accords make things a little difficult on us, but we don’t have to have this conversation right now.”

“On the same note...”  Vision refused to let the conversation die down.  She must have immediately sensed where he was going because the smile on her face rapidly disappeared.

“Vis...”  The warning was obvious, but he was far too concerned about their future together were they to keep putting this off.

“On the same note, c-children would be...”  His words trailed, face falling at the very mention of it as allowed his fingers to trace the length of her arm.  Her warmth brought him comfort, even during his lowest moments.  

“We don’t have to talk about this right now,” Wanda bit back at him, her face growing hard while she attempted to avoid his gaze.

“No, I feel we must.”  

“Stop...”  Her teeth grit together, tucking her arms against her chest and pulling away from him slightly.  Her voice was soft and hurt as if she were worried to continue.  

“Wanda...my body is purely synthetic as you’re well aware.  Were you to wish for children...”  Vision pressed on regardless of the way her face contorted against his words.  This needed to be said and he would not back down this time.  “I would be unable to provide you with that joy were that to be what you truly desired.”

“What makes you think I want that, hm?  I’ve never said...”  Her words sounded angry, but the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.  Tears threatened to fall, causing her eyes to turn glassy as she glared up at him.

“I’ve seen the way you look at those children out in the field.  It doesn’t take a synthezoid to figure out what’s running through your mind,” Vision explained.

“We’re not talking about this.”  Wanda turned away from him, starting her trek forward to leave their discussion at that.

“Wanda...I must speak.”  He continued, causing her to stop in one sudden motion.  “Please, just listen to me.  Your happiness means more to me than the Earth itself.  If I can’t provide you with...If I can’t...”

“Please stop...”  Wanda's voice softened, slowly closing the distance between them. Her fingers touched his chest, tracing lines along the texture of his sweater. Her eyes followed her fingers, clearly struggling to pull herself together. In hope of soothing her worries, Vision raised his hand to her cheek, gently running his thumb along her skin. “I don’t need children to be happy, Vis.  As long as I’m with you, that’s all I care about.  I don’t see any reason why we can’t just enjoy our time together and just enjoy it.”

“The future may say otherwise," he chuckled.

“Then we’ll figure it out.  I’m fine.  If I can’t get my fill at the neighborhood park, then there are many ways we can have children without actually having children.” Confusion filled his mind as she spoke, uncertain as to her meaning. “Adoption...surrogacy...we can figure that out too.  When we’re both ready and not right now.  Together.” A smile stretched across her face, reaching down to slip her hand into his grip.  

“Very well.  Together, then.”

“For now...all I want is you.  Can’t that be enough?”  Her words seemed genuine, but he couldn’t stop the worry that continued to eat in the back of his mind.  At some point in her life, she was bound to want more and there was only so much that he could provide for her.  The heaviness of that thought weighed on his mind, but if she insisted that she was happy with how things were, there was no way he could refute that fact.  

“Of course, my love.  My heart and my entire being are yours.”

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

[kirishibi]

Hi! I just found your blog and I love it! I was wondering if I could request something with Shinsou, Kaminari, Kirishima, Todoroki, and maybe Bakugou (sorry if that’s a lot) to where their shy crush (with a flower quirk) confesses to them and gives them a bouquet of flowers? Thank you either way (i understand wholeheartedly if not)!!! 💛

Warnings: None!

Pairings: Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader, Kaminari Denki x Reader, Todoroki Shoto x Reader, Kirishima Ejirou x Reader, Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

a/n: omg you’re a sweetheart, thank you so much! i went ahead and did these as headcanons, hopefully that's alright - enjoy! 💛

p.s. through writing this, i discovered that i don’t know shit about flowers

Shinsou Hitoshi

The moment the words ‘I have feelings for you’ fall from your lips, Shinsou’s stunned into silence

Unexpected is an understatement, but he’s not complaining in the slightest

Of course he has a crush on you. How could he not?

You’re the gorgeous, yet reserved and soft spoken badass of class 1a. To him, anyone who doesn’t recognize that is an idiot

He never intended to make a move on you, though. You’re too perfect to have feelings for a guy like him, or so he thought

He can’t help but stare wide-eyed as you present a beautifully wrapped bundle of purple flowers to him with shaky fingers. 

“I like lilacs a lot… t-they remind me of you, so- um- I grew some for you with my quirk.” A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you look away, anxiously nibbling on your bottom lip

He watches as you timidly fidget with the flowers’ stems

He desperately wishes your were holding his hand rather than the bouquet

Shinsou doesn’t realize how badly he wants to kiss you until the feeling becomes overwhelming, and he can no longer help himself

His body moves before his mind has time to catch up

A strong hand cups your jaw, calling your attention back to him and gently tilting your chin upward

It takes all of Shinsou’s self control not to press his lips to yours

He instead opts to kiss you on the forehead, deciding to save the real thing for when the time is right

You deserve a truly special first kiss, after all

He feels warmth creep up his neck to his cheeks, his face beginning to flush 

“These are beautiful, but sadly I don’t have anything to put them in.”

When you begin to stutter out an apology, he presses a finger to your lips

His other hand grabs the flowers from you, his lingering touch electric on your skin

A cool smile cracks his characteristically stern expression.

“It’s still pretty early in the evening. How about I take you to dinner, and afterwards we can try to find a vase worthy of them?”

Kaminari Denki

Denki tries to play it cool, really he does

He also fails, horribly

His mouth goes dry as he takes the bundle of flowers from you, “These are so cool! Did you grow them yourself?”

This boy has been so damned in love with you for so long 

Since he met you, truthfully

Normally, he’d just ask you out casually and brush it off if you rejected him

That’s what he does with every other girl, at least

But you’re not every other girl. He actually cares about you, and wants you to care for him too

He’d been waiting for the perfect moment to finally tell you about his feelings for you

He’s typically an impatient guy, but you’re special. You’re worth the wait

And now you were giving him flowers?!

For months he’d been planning the best way to confess how he feels for you, and now you’re the one telling him how he makes your heart flutter and knees weak

The moment you nervously glance away to gather your thoughts, he’s pinching himself just to make sure he’s not dreaming

He can hear his heart pounding in his chest as you talk

He’s sure you can hear it too

One hand is gripping the bouquet so tightly his palm has gone numb

The other nervously thumbs the petals of a chrysanthemum - yellow, to match his hair

When your words trail off, and you nervously look up, awaiting his response, he finds himself tongue tied

All he do is timidly pat your head and smile, “You’re so cute it’s unfair. How could I not like you back?”

Todoroki Shoto

This feeling was entirely new to Shoto

When he first met you, he just thought you were pretty

Later, he discovered that you had a wonderful personality as well, and by then he found himself unable to take his eyes off you - be it during in-the-field lessons or in the classroom

You’re the reason he scored lower than Midoriya on the last practical exam and had to endure an earful from Endeavor the following day

Watching you use your quirk so elegantly and tactfully during a mock battle, though, was entirely worth it

Something about you is alluring. You spark feelings in him that he didn’t even know existed

Do you have a second quirk? To him, there was no other explanation

He tried to ask Midoriya about it, hoping to find an answer as to why his mouth goes dry when you’re around, why his palms get sweaty when you talk to him, and his body grows hot at every lingering touch

Apparently, his friend wasn’t in the mood to answer questions, because he only turned red and backed away, telling Shoto to just talk to you himself.

He asks you to take a walk with him so that he can confront you directly, to which you agree, stating you have something to talk to him about as well

At some point, you stop to sit in a grassy area and rest

As he watches red and white roses grow under your fingertips, he finds his breath taken away once again

You pluck the freshly grown flowers, tying them together with a ribbon that had previously been wrapped around your wrist

Then, you confess your feelings for him

Hearing you put into words exactly how he’d felt about you for so long makes him entirely confused yet so elated he can hardly keep still

“So, you feel that way when you’re around me… because you like me? That’s what that feeling is?”

You nod, and a small smile upturns the corners of his mouth. 

“Oh. Well, then I like you too.” He says so casually that it leaves you speechless. “Does this mean I get to date you now?”

Kirishima Ejirou

When you ask to speak to Kirishima alone, he gets so excited he can hardly contain himself

He doesn’t even know what you want to discuss, but getting to talk to you one-on-one always does that to him

And when you tell him you have something to give him? Oh boy, he’s like a puppy who’s owner just said ‘treat’

Flowers aren’t exactly the manliest gift, especially when they’re from you, the girl Kirishima been trying to impress since his first day at UA

Making you smile makes him feel very manly, though, so he gladly accepts the scarlet bouquet when you offer it to him

He doesn’t quite know what to do with the flowers, so he takes a sniff

They smell like you, sweet and earthy

The overjoyed look on your face when he calls the flowers pretty only delights him more

In that moment, he decides he loves flowers, bouquets, and you everything else that interests you.

If it makes you happy, it makes Ejirou ecstatic 

He’s so lost in thought that he almost doesn’t hear you timidly clear your throat and begin telling him the reason you’d wanted to be alone

He listens with a wide, sharp-toothed smile as you explain your feelings

If you stumble on your words, he’s quick to rub your back with his free hand until you’re calm enough to continue talking

Once your done, he wraps you in a tight hug

He rests his chin on your head as you bury your face in his chest 

“Don’t worry, (Y/n), I feel the same way about you!”

He plants a loving kiss atop your head before pulling away

“I’d love to be your guy if you’ll let me.” He smiles at you once again, feigning calm when inside his heart’s about to explode

He looks back down at the bouquet, a look of mild concern replacing his joyous expression. 

“The only problem is, uh, I’ve never taken care of flowers before. I don’t really know what to do with these, but I want to make you proud… can you teach me?”

Bakugou Katsuki

Oh FUCK this tsundre gremlin isn’t gonna make confessing easy on you. Nuh uh. Good luck, he’s a little shit

You knock on his bedroom door a little while after he’d loudly declared to you and your peers that he was going to bed

You’d slipped away moments after his announcement as the rest of class A played some card game in the common room

When he opens the door, he’s expecting to see Kaminari or Kirishima with a big dumb smile, standing there ready to bug him as was typical at this time of night

Instead, he’s greeted by you, holding a bouquet of orange flowers and nervously toeing the ground

If you hadn’t been looking elsewhere, you’d have caught a brief smirk flash across his lips before it was forced away, replaced by his iconic scowl

“Whatdya want and what the hell is that.”

When you ask to come in so that you can talk in private, it takes everything in him not to respond with an eager ‘yes’

He continues his forced frown as he steps aside, folding his arms across his chest as you enter the dimly lit room

He kicks the door closed behind you with a huff. “‘Kay, what is it? I’ve gotta sleep, ya know.”

You nervously stutter out your confession as his angry gaze warms your skin and slicks your palms with sweat

When you finish, he silently takes the bouquet from your hand, eyeing it skeptically

He’s convinced this is a dirty prank, some ploy thought up by the idiots that hang out with him

He’s got no clue how they knew he had a thing for you, but he’s getting more pissed by the second as he tells himself there’s no way this is real

There was no way that you, the girl he’d been quietly admiring for what seemed like forever, had a crush on him

You’re too sweet to want someone so bitter. Even he knows that

As he looks up from the vibrantly colored bundle of flowers and back to your worried expression, though, he realizes there’s no way this is fake 

His angry demeanor softens as he watches the anxious fidget of your fingers, the way your hands shake and shoulders cave in uncertainty

“You’re serious?”

“Ye- um, well, I-” You stutter out, trying to prepare for a brutal rejection, tears threatening to well up in your eyes

“Spit it out. Yes or no?”

“Yes. I’m serious”

He sets the bouquet down on his desk with more care and grace than you’d thought possible for the blond brute, before folding his arms across his chest yet again

“I’ll keep the flowers, but if you tell anyone, you’re dead. I mean it.”

You nod in understanding, still bracing yourself for him to raise his voice or insult you

“... And I’ll be your boyfriend or whatever, but that means you’re mine and only mine, got it? If anyone other than me lays a finger on you, tell me so I can kill ‘em.”

[yankingmyvajane]

Beauyasha Meta

For anyone who can’t read the pictures with the small text. I’m sorry about that!!

When Beau and Yasha met in that tavern in Trostenwald, Beau was immediately drawn to Yasha. Obviously a lot of that was just base level attraction to her, because let’s face it, Yasha is hot as fuck.

 But, there was just something about Yasha that drew Beau in. To me, it feels like both Beau and Yasha understood and felt that pull, but they also had an unspoken agreement that their dynamic couldn’t be anything serious. It was just playful and flirtatious. At this point in time, Beau had fully convinced herself that she was happier being lonely, if she never opened herself up romantically, she couldn’t be heartbroken again. So, she decided that she would be alone forever, and would use occasional hook ups as a band aid to get by. Yasha was sure that she would never move on from Zuala because she didn’t want or deserve to. If she moved on, Zuala would be gone. How could she ever love another person ever again when she was the reason that this woman was killed? There was too much regret and too much shame in her heart for that to ever be on her radar. There were moments where Beau considered hooking up with Yasha, but that might’ve made things weird and Yasha left the group frequently. As they started to get to know each other more, Beau was considering making a move, but then Yasha, Fjord and Jester were taken by the Iron Shepherds. Then Molly died, which fundamentally impacted and changed both Beau and Yasha as people. Yasha left again, and we know through the art book that Beau missed her and considered her a part of the Mighty Nein. Once Yasha came back, Beau was very gentle with her, making sure that she was okay. Making her feel safe. I think that it brought Yasha comfort to be able to slowly start to jump back into the way things were with the Nein. Whether she liked it or not, she had grown to care deeply for these people, and now that Molly was gone, they were her only family. So, their relationship slowly started to get back to the flirtation of the earlier campaign, except this time Yasha started to reciprocate. Then Yasha told the entire group Zuala, and Beau cared way too much about Yasha to ignore the fact that she was grieving. Beau understands loss, and she couldn’t just swoop in like an asshole trying to flirt with Yasha like she had before now that she knew Yasha’s struggles. But then there was that night in the barbed fields when Yasha initiated flirtation with Beau. That was the night that they opened up to each other about things that they hadn’t told anyone else about.Yasha is still the only one who knows the full story of Beau and Tori’s relationship. For the first time, this unspoken understanding of their pull to one another was made explicit. “I’ve seen you.” Which to this day, is such a perfect quote to summarize their relationship. Beau was making an off-handed comment to belittle herself, and Yasha flipped it to show Beau that she understands her, values her, and cares for her. This one scene has so much depth. Beau checking in on Yasha. Yasha reassuring Beau that no matter what she may see in herself, no matter what she’s been led to believe about her character, Beau is deserving of respect, of love, and Yasha isn’t the only person who believes that either. Yasha listening to Beau’s pain and making sure that she knows it is just as valid as her own. Beau making it known that she has been paying attention to Yasha, and that she can see that there is something truly special about her. Yasha makes sure to find a moment to make Beau laugh. These two women who have emotionally closed themselves off from the world, on multiple levels, opening up to each other about love and loss. Realizing that their lives have been connected long before they even knew the other existed. That they are more similar than they could have ever thought. A moment of understanding and recognition of the other’s experiences of love, and the pain of their loss. A then, a glint of realization that maybe someday, they could both find someone who is worth risking that same pain all over again. Or maybe…they had already found them. Beau’s response was subtle, though. Maybe Yasha was just being kind. It probably didn’t mean anything, and besides, Beau had made a choice. She had decided to back away, and she swore that nothing would ever happen between them because it was too complicated. Yasha was still mourning her wife, and as much as she cared about Yasha, maybe even because she cared so much, it hurt Beau every time Yasha left the Mighty Nein. Which she did frequently. How could Beau let herself care if Yasha wasn’t going to stay? That is exactly why she decided to be lonely. No feelings means no heartbreak. Everything changed once Obann took Yasha away from them. Beau began to realize how much she truly cared, because she felt how much it hurt that Yasha was gone again. She barely slept for several nights after Yasha was taken because she wanted to hear a storm. She wanted some confirmation that Yasha would be okay. Maybe the Storm Lord could bring her back to them.   As much as she tried to avoid confronting the pain of losing Yasha, Beau never gave up on her, and knew that what they were seeing wasn’t really her. During this time, Beau developed a crush on Jester. Once Yasha came back, their relationship grew similarly to the way it did after Yasha came back from leaving at Molly’s grave. It started slow and careful, but eventually began building back up to the ways things were. The playful flirtation between them started back up. No matter what Beau convinced herself of, she always came back to that connection she has with Yasha. She began to realize that her feelings for Yasha were stronger than her crush on Jester. She has been avoiding her feelings for Yasha because she has been avoiding confronting her future; with Yasha, it has always been more than a crush. She called her beautiful at the fish market, she blue screened over her getting stronger overnight, she watched her play her harp on the beach and smiled at her while watching her from a distance. At the same time, Yasha once again began to slowly initiate flirtation with Beau in her own ways. She always protected Beau in combat, and couldn’t help but get flustered around her. We know that she has been harboring guilt over what she did to Beau in the chantry, which probably held her back from doing more. I imagine that moment also motivated her to open up more as well, though. Perhaps she began to realize the fragility of life, and maybe she was struggling with balancing the knowledge that she needs to say something before it’s too late, and the shame and regret of the things she has done. Then they went to Rumblecusp. There was that night in Vo where Yasha played her harp and everyone could see just how much she had healed. We watched the layers of emotion hit Beau’s face. I think she started to realize in that moment that while Yasha had grown, so had she. They are not the same two people who met in a tavern before a carnival. They have both been through so much shit, and yet here Yasha was, playing her harp in front of everyone, displaying this gentle beauty that Beau knows has always been within her. It was in that moment that all of the feelings Beau had for Yasha began to click for her. Then, there was the flight. Ever since going to Kamordah and seeing the hag, Beau had been struggling a lot. The realization that one day she would lose the Mighty Nein was massive for Beau, because she realized that despite everything she had told herself, she is terrified of being alone. Flying with Yasha was the first time since going to Kamordah that we saw Beau carefree. She was even (trying) to say that she felt better than she had in a long time (good long time). In my opinion, that moment completely solidified Beau’s feelings for Yasha in Beau’s mind. This woman that she has been harboring feelings for since the moment they met just sprouted literal angel wings for the first time in her life for the sole purpose of catching Beau and taking her on a flight over a waterfall. Beau also knows that the fact that Yasha’s wings were no longer skeletal means something, and I am absolutely certain she could tell how much the moment meant for Yasha. To be the person that this woman gets to share one of the most important and symbolic moments of her life with is not a small thing. Combine all of that with the fact that Beau was starting to accept that her feelings for Yasha were much more than playful; everything that the two of them went through as individuals, all of their personal growth only brought them closer together. Beau knows that she doesn’t want to be alone anymore, in fact she realizes how terrible being lonely is, and now she also realizes that as terrifying as it may be to think about, she has started to think about what a future might look like with Yasha in it. And the best part? She actually feels like running towards that future instead of running away from it. In order to let herself fully accept this and say it out loud to someone, Beau needed to know that Yasha wasn’t going to leave anymore. Yasha’s absence was always the biggest setback for them. So, Beau asked Yasha outfront, and Yasha told her, with a knowing and loving smile, that she isn’t going anywhere. Wherever the Nein go, wherever Beau goes, Yasha goes. Despite this, Beau does not expect anything of Yasha, because she knows she has her own shit to deal with. Yet there is still that glimmer of hope in her mind. So she tells Fjord. Then she tells Jester. The ball has to be in Yasha’s court because Beau respects Yasha too much to overstep. And Yasha, who has been fighting with the parts of herself that are holding on to her mistakes and the part of her that cares deeply about Beauregard, is now coming to terms with the dream she had the night before. She had a dream, or maybe it was more than a dream, that gave her the tools to forgive herself for the things she has been holding on to for so long. Now that she is beginning to forgive and to let go of the guilt, what could her future bring? She has a dream about letting go and growing her wings, and the very next day she uses her newly feathered wings to catch the woman who she has developed strong and passionate feelings for, and gets to share this life changing moment with her. Then she talks to Caduceus and he echoes a sentiment very similar to one that she shared with Caleb. If you care for someone, you should tell them before it is too late. Who knows how much time is left. If you have the opportunity, why not make the most of whatever time you do have left. He tells her that she deserves to go for the things she wants. And she knows that he is talking about her feelings for Beau. So she tells Jester how she feels, she makes it real for herself. There is no going back now, and so they come up with a plan to tell Beau in the perfect way. And she writes the poem, but decides that what she wants to tell Beau needs to be more candid and real; more specific to who Yasha is, and to who Beau is. So Yasha writes a letter telling Beau that she sees her. Just like she did all that time ago in the barbed fields. She sees Beau, every part of Beau, even the parts that Beau thinks are bad or unloveable, and she tells Beau that she cherishes every part of her. She highlights her strengths in a way that she knows Beau deserves to hear. It is clear that Yasha understands Beau intimately by the words she wrote, and by the way that Beau reacted to what she read. The ball is now back in Beau’s court. As we know now, Beau is planning something for Yasha. She looked for flowers and wanted Caleb to change the tower somehow. These two women who have experienced so much loss and heartbreak, whose lives and journeys have mirrored one another and became intertwined the moment they met are taking their time and waiting for the perfect moments so that they absolutely get it right. Each of them knows that the other deserves nothing less than perfect. Yasha, who never got to share her love with the world, whose love was taken from her unfairly and cruelly. Yasha, who had closed herself off emotionally to protect herself from losing anymore loved ones, yet who protects and gives love without ever needing or asking for anything in return. Beau, who has been dismissed, undermined, and neglected by her family her entire life. Beau, who has given so much of herself just to feel valued and acknowledged, and who desperately wants to feel seen. To truly be loved.

[olivinesea]

Play it Right

a/n: I’m back! We’re in the single digit countdown to the end of this godforsaken school year aghhhh. So excited I can’t even tell you. Here’s some Hotch being sad but trying to be a good dad. ~3.3k

Hotch & Sean take Jack out for his birthday.

Memories of childhood were hard to come by, often only wisps of faded colors that he couldn’t completely resolve into images. There were light drenched afternoons with disembodied fingers pulling up blades of grass. Other partial scenes where dirt stained knees crawled into dark spaces where the world was cool and damp, following a trail of ants as they slowly dismantled some lifeless form. There was the sickened twist of fascination that accompanied the discovery, watching the way it was transformed from something into nothing with only the help of a few thousand tiny insects. Individually inconsequential in size, collectively a force of nature unstoppable as they reduced the abandoned shell into a small drift of feathers. The pale structure stirred and blown away easily by the air displaced when he reached down to take a single one. He dreamed about the ants coming to him, taking him away piece by piece until there was nothing left but traces of bone dust, dispersed by a midnight breeze. For any other child this would have been a nightmare but to him it was a promise. A promise of order and structure, an indication that time did in fact move forward and wasn’t trapped within stagnated pools hiding in the dim recesses of closets. That it wasn’t a continuous loop of threats and tears, of lies worn so smooth they slipped out of mouths unaware. It won’t happen again. He loves you. I love you.

It was far better to let his memories of childhood be lost. Easy enough to do with no one else who had been present at the time around to reinforce them with retelling. No one else to share with over a drink, bouncing stories back and forth, refreshing the dilapidated structures with a new coat of detail. As he let them dissolve they became defanged, passive enough to believe they were not even about him but possibly a story he’d once read and allowed to mingle with his reality. He had always been told he had a vivid imagination, maybe he could allow that to be true retroactively. It didn’t matter anymore anyway. He was still here and none of them were.

Except Sean.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently. They’d been waiting for Sean for at least half an hour. His brother, never punctual, was cutting it close once again. They were supposed to be taking Jack to the Mets game. Originally conceived by Sean, the idea was floated as a birthday gift for Jack’s tenth birthday—double digits, a big deal for any kid. Somehow this “gift” had become something Hotch had organized entirely, buying the tickets, getting Jack and himself to New York, filling in the rest of the weekend with kid-friendly activities. He’d made it so easy for Sean, all he had to do was show up and he wasn’t even getting that part right. He glanced at his watch again, resisting the urge to double check the time printed on the tickets. It was a baseball game, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if they missed the beginning.

He looked at Jack, sitting on the bench, fiddling with the laces of his glove. The glove was a hand-me-down of sorts. He had found it while helping clean out their parents’ house after their mother passed away. Sean swore it wasn’t his but it couldn’t be Hotch’s either, it was for someone right-handed. Plus, he couldn’t pull up any memories connected to it. He’d never been a team sport kind of kid. Too silent, too reserved to fit in with the loud boys who jostled each other playfully and banded together with unnecessary vitriol for the opposing teams. Hotch never understood team rivalries. Of all the many sources of hatred he’d learned, going to a different school didn’t make the list. It didn’t make any sense to create tension, to whip up emotions that had no basis. He knew enough of hate not to go looking for it where it didn’t need to exist.

Rather than argue with Sean about it, he’d taken the glove home and held on to it until Jack was big enough to use it. He wasn’t exactly sure why but he made up a story for it, weaving a collection of happy moments to accompany the time-softened leather. He told Jack the stories he felt he should have had, the kinds of stories fathers should tell their sons. He hadn’t bothered to do this when Jack was younger, hadn’t worried about his son’s perception of the past. But as Jack got older, as life took more and more away from him before he’d even had a chance to be aware of what he had, Hotch felt the need to give him pieces of a family history. He felt they should be stories that would make him feel normal, if that were at all possible with a life like this. Like he was any other kid with parents who were once kids themselves, chasing the same simple joys. He thought it might be comforting, I’ve known happiness and so can you.

Hotch would do anything to make Jack happy and even though it often made him crazy, this meant including Sean in their lives. His relationship with Sean had always been tense. There were several years after Haley’s death, after his absence in the aftermath, when things were beyond strained. Hotch, once he had surfaced enough to feel things, had burned with a white hot anger, tempting him to sever their tie permanently. It was an anger he didn’t trust himself with, strong enough to break through his control without a second’s notice. So he didn’t call, didn’t make the effort he knew was required to pull his brother back into his orbit. He never spoke of it of course but Jessica noticed. She heard Jack asking about his uncle, saw the muscle in Hotch’s jaw jump as he ground his teeth together to keep from saying something he shouldn’t. When she felt enough time had passed, she started to push him in little ways to reach out, to reconnect.

So he’d ended up here, once again, waiting for Sean, unsure if he’d even manage to remember his nephew’s birthday. Hotch was internally cursing his younger brother and considering leaving on the next train with or without him when the younger man appeared. He looked a little disheveled, hair sticking up in odd places, the shirt under his leather jacket not altogether clean. But he was smiling and calling their names, sweeping first Jack and then Hotch into a hug, almost certainly intending to irritate his brother with the uninvited contact. Hotch could smell the beer on his breath and gave him a sharp look. Sean shrugged it off and turned his attention to Jack.

“Alright kid, are you ready for this?” he ruffled the boy’s sandy blond hair as he asked. Jack grinned up at him, nodding his head a little too vigorously. Sean never failed to charm.

Hotch frowned at them. “Come on, let’s get going. We’re cutting it a little close.”

Sean scoffed and made a face at Jack, mimicking Hotch’s serious features, only to stick his tongue out and make Jack giggle. “Relax, it’ll be fine.” He punched Hotch’s shoulder, earning another glare, but they all started walking toward the platform. Hotch followed just half a step behind, keeping a close eye on Jack in the thickening crowd. He watched Sean weave confidently through people, happily becoming the lead adventurer. Hotch, who had regretted this from the moment he’d agreed, felt his stomach twisting on itself, anticipating what kind of unnecessary chaos Sean would lead them into today.

They made it to the ballpark without too much difficulty. With some shuffling, they arranged themselves in the hard stadium seats, Jack between the two men. This checked two boxes for Hotch—in the middle Jack was both protected and protecting him from being too close to his brother. If Sean had been a little tipsy when he’d shown up he could now be considered fully inebriated. He hadn’t stopped drinking beer since they got there. Hotch, already on edge, was exasperated by this behavior. However, his pointed glares got him nothing but a grin and a lifted glass waved in his direction.

Jack didn’t notice, just happy to see his Uncle Sean who was always so fun and wild. He was the only family of his dad’s that he had ever met so there was something extra special about this man, so different from his dad but somehow his nearest relative. Jack was chattering to him about kid things, filling Sean in on all the art projects and field trips and other critical moments of his life. He proudly showed off the glove, talking about how his dad told him of Sean’s skill as a baseball player and how he said he used to go watch his games and cheer him on.

Sean almost spit out beer he laughed so hard at this information. “You’re kidding. Is that the kind of BS your dad is feeding you?” He looked over at Hotch, who might have been trying to literally kill him with the look he was directing his way. “That damn glove was never mine and you know it Aaron.”

Unrelenting in his disapproval, Hotch shrugged slightly, “Maybe I have some of the details mixed up.”

“Details?” He looked back at Jack, “That glove was your dad’s and for some stupid reason he tried to throw it away one day and your grandpa kicked the shit out of him for it.”

“Sean!”

“What?” Sean was an expert at faking innocence. Jack was wide eyed, looking between the two adults, not understanding what was happening.

“Can I speak with you?” Hotch’s words were clipped, gritting them out between clenched teeth.

“Oooh Agent Hotchner, yessir,” Sean sat up straight, faking a snap to attention but the effect was lost as he swayed slightly. Hotch pressed lips together and grabbed Sean by the jacket shoulder, pulling him to his feet and pushing him out into the aisle.

“What are you thinking? Why would you say something like that?” Hotch tried not to raise his voice but he was barely succeeding.

“You think it’s better for him to believe in some bullshit you made up?” Sean spat back at him.

“Why not? I’m protecting him. He’s lived through enough, he deserves to have some happy stories.”

“So you lie to him,” Sean said, voice flat.

“It’s not lying.”

Sean wasn’t playing anymore, he was angry, every bit as angry as Hotch. His face was flushed from alcohol and emotion. He looked directly at Hotch, making sure his words sank in. “It is lying, just like you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you,” Hotch protested but the words barely made it out of his mouth.

Sean laughed meanly. “You lied to me every fucking day in that house Aaron. I saw everything, heard everything only for you to turn around and tell me it was all fine, that our dad was a good man.” He paused for a moment, looking down at his clenched fists. “I thought I was fucking crazy.”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“Bullshit. You were being selfish, just like you are now. You think you can just change the facts and no one will know, that it won’t affect anyone else. I have bad news for you: we don’t all just exist in this world you made up in your head. Jack is a real person, I am a real person. Refusing to admit what was happening didn’t make it any less real, it just meant that I was alone with it. Just a little kid alone trying to understand why someone who was supposed to take care of me would hurt my brother and why, why my brother would lie about it. Did you think I was stupid?”

Hotch didn’t know how to respond, stunned by the bitterness of Sean’s words.

“I’m not going to sit around while you lie to someone else about our shitty father. What’s even the point of protecting him anymore?”

Hotch frowned, “I wanted you to have a normal life, a normal relationship with him. He liked you. I thought if I could keep that side of him away, you could have the kind of father I saw other kids have. I thought I could give you that.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard. Always have been.”

“Please, Sean,” he tried to find more words, some way to make Sean understand. He’d only ever wanted to keep him safe.  

“I won’t lie about this Aaron and you shouldn’t either, Jack’s going to learn everything someday, whether you like it or not. Do you want him to be able to come to you? Or do you want him to be afraid, afraid he can’t trust you to tell him the truth?”

Hotch hung his head. “I’m sorry Sean. I didn’t realize—”

Sean cut him off, “I’m done with this.” Clumsily he pulled something out of his pocket. “Here, give this to Jack, tell him I said happy birthday.”

Hotch wanted to ask him to stay but he’d already turned, walking up the stairs, grabbing the railing every once in a while to correct his balance. Hotch looked at the coin in his hand, a Kennedy half-dollar, remembered giving it to Sean on his tenth birthday. It was the same coin his father had given him when he turned 10, just before Sean was born. He remembered the time of his mother’s pregnancy as being particularly bad. His father had been careful with her, solicitous even, trying to ensure that this baby, this wanted baby, would make it safely into the world. But his temper hadn’t gone anywhere, he simply focused it all on Aaron. He'd had to miss a lot of school that fall.

But then, for no reason discernible to him, his father’s mood had shifted a couple months before the baby was due. He started coming home early, bringing gifts for both of them. Some were even wrapped (by the shop clerk no doubt, but wrapped). The glove had been one of these gifts. It hadn’t fit him right but he had said thank you and hoped he could keep this version of his dad around as long as possible. It lasted until Sean was about six months old. The first night his dad came home drunk and angry, yelling at his mom who just stood there holding Sean, too petrified to move away. Seeing that, the frailty and futility in his mother’s stance, he knew that he had to get in between them. He knew then he would do anything he could to protect his baby brother. Sean was the most perfect thing he had ever seen and he intended to keep it that way. He’d done what he could but all he really knew how to do was lie. It was all he’d ever been taught.

The glove became a nightmare that repeatedly came back to haunt him. His dad would go through fits of wanting to be a “normal family.” He would drag them out to the lake for picnics, would insist Aaron play catch with him in the yard. But he was never coordinated enough and it would always end with his dad frustrated and cursing him. When he was thirteen he started to experience overwhelming fits of anger. They came on suddenly, could be set off by anything. His vision would blur and he would feel a desperate need to lash out against the brutally indifferent world around him. During one of these fits, he threw the glove in the garbage, sick of being humiliated by it. Then, the emotion gone as quickly as it appeared, he promptly forgot about it.

Unfortunately, being an angry adolescent did not lead to the smartest decisions. His father found it in the trash and immediately went looking for his ungrateful son. He’d found him with Sean building tiny forts out of sticks in the back yard. Aaron hadn’t even had a chance to remember that he’d thrown the thing away before it was being used to leave marks on his exposed skin. Hotch wondered that Sean could even remember it, he had been so young. He wondered, too, how he could have forgotten, the sting of his failure to protect his brother from that knowledge making itself clearly felt now.

The coin, however, had been a treasured gift, inspiring him to begin a collection that he hid carefully in the back of a drawer. Something he could pull out and remind himself that there had been good moments. That he hadn’t just imagined them. Looking at his coins offered rare moments of peace in the continuous turbulence of the Hotchner household. When he was twenty and Sean only ten, Aaron had felt guilty for not being around as much. The kid had recently lost his father and was living with a quickly deteriorating mother. So he gave Sean the original half-dollar, hoping that his little brother would be able to find the same comfort in it, maybe even develop his own interest in the hobby. Unsurprisingly, coin collecting never caught on with Sean. He was too loud, too rough to spend hours inside, inspecting tiny characters and noticing slight variations in markings. Hotch had assumed Sean had lost the coin years ago, had even felt a little sad thinking about it being lost. Sean was many things but he never failed to surprise Hotch. He shook his head, clearing the lingering thoughts, needing to focus on what he was going to say to Jack. He turned to walk back to their seats.

Jack watched his approach over his shoulder, “Where’s Uncle Sean?”

“He wasn’t feeling well, he said to wish you happy birthday.”

“You made him leave,” Jack’s small face was contorted into an accusing scowl.

Hotch shook his head, ready to commit to this stretching of the truth but he stopped himself. “He was upset,” he started then paused. He really didn’t want to explain this story.

“Why?”

Hotch rubbed the coin with his thumb, “Well, he didn’t like the story I told you about the glove.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t the truth and he thought that it was wrong of me to lie.”

Jack was quiet, thinking about this. Hotch waited patiently for him to process. “What’s the true story?”

He hesitated, “It’s not a very nice story Jack.”

“But it’s the truth?”

Hotch nodded, the muscles around his lungs constricting too tightly to speak. Jack looked too serious for a ten year old. “Then that’s the story I want to hear.”

A mix of emotion spread through him, partly anger at Sean for forcing his hand, but also pride in his son’s strength. He sighed, “And I’ll tell you, but not today ok buddy? Today is about you and about good memories.”

“Ok Dad but you have to promise.”

Hotch smiled, “I promise. Here, Uncle Sean wanted me to give you this, it’s your birthday gift.”

Jack took the offered object and looked closely, trying to figure out what it was. The metal was aged making the words hard to read through the patina. “It’s…old?”

Hotch laughed. “It is very old, you’re right.”

“What is it?”

“Well, do you want to hear the story of where it came from?”

“Only if it’s true,” Jack replied, a little smile revealing that he was teasing his dad. When had he gotten so mature?

“Of course, nothing but from now on,” Hotch held up his hand in mock solemnity. Without warning, Jack leaned over and wrapped his small arms as far as they would go around Hotch, pressing his face into his chest. Hotch hugged him back, thankful that despite everything, every stupid mistake and unforgivable failure, he had managed to get this one thing right.

[aibari]

safe returns

a @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

notes: this fic is set after the s15 finale. there’s a bit of canon-typical grief at  the start, but this is a fix-it fic :)

read on ao3

Afterwards, the world knits itself back together slowly, like broken bones healing. People come back to their loved ones, but not all at once, filing in gradually. Dean guesses they've had a long way to go. Wherever the hell they went, when Chuck had punted them out of existence.

So it's a slow and gradual thing, and it sucks. He catches himself out constantly, thinking that maybe -

And then Sam will give him a concerned look, so understanding and careful it makes him feel like he's been skinned alive.

And he knows by now what that feels like.

Anyway, the point is that while people are still coming back, he can't quite let go of the thought that Cas might, too. Even if he's in the Empty. Even if it's dumb as hell to think that it could ever -

So. The thought sits in his chest like a tumor metastasizing, like a rusty fishhook, like a birdcage. Hope is a thing with feathers, or however the fuck that saying goes.

He can't think about it for too long. If he does, he starts needing a drink, starts to feel his jaw lock up. Can't touch it, or he'll slice his fingers open.

So instead of thinking about it, he joins a pie eating competition. Goes on a series of hunts with Sam that all resolve easy. Drinks beer and sleeps in motels and eats greasy diner food, and it's familiar in a way that's both familiar and deeply fucking depressing if he lets himself think about it. He's forty-one, he's helped defeat God, and he's still doing this shit? Does he even know how to be anything else? Does he have it in him?

Six months after the end of Chuck, the stream of people showing back up slows to a trickle and then dries up. Dean takes his fragile hope and buries it as deep as it will go.

So it goes.

-

He dreams about Cas, which is business as usual. Dreams with Cas used to mean something, and maybe that something was covert fraternization and angel politics, most of the time, but it was Cas. Now it's just trauma. Dean sits on their bench, and Cas sits next to him, and Cas says:

Because you cared, I cared.

And Dean says:

Don’t do this, Cas.

And then he starts to choke, words and letters pushing up against the back of his throat like yesterday's dinner.

Cas is still talking, words fading in and out like a radio with bad reception, and his hand rests heavy on Dean's arm, and he says:

"Dean."

And then Dean wakes up, gasping, staring up at the water-stained motel room ceiling.

The handprint on his shoulder burns.

He stumbles into the bathroom to splash water on his face and then stands there, hands clutching the edges of the sink, staring blankly at his own reflection.

There's a pull in his chest, tethered somewhere under his ribs.

He takes a deep breath, and then another.

Then he wakes up Sam, who groans and then squints at him in the half-dark of the room. The light of the neon sign outside paints a violet streak across his cheek.

“Dean, what -?” Sam says. “What’s going on, what time is it?”

“Don’t worry your sweet little head about it, Sammy,” Dean says. “Just got a little something to take care of, so I’m heading out.”

Sam frowns at him. “What do you mean, out?”

“What are you, some kind of detective?”

“Dean,” Sam says, with the kind of heavy, long-suffering bitchiness that means he’s gonna get passive aggressive about it.

Dean doesn’t have that kind of time. “I’m going to Minnesota and I’m gonna have to go there alone.”

Sam opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t say anything, Sam,” Dean grits out.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Sam says, like a liar. 

Dean rolls his eyes at him and starts packing. It takes about a minute; it’s not like any of them ever really unpack.

There’s a joke in there, somewhere, Dean thinks, jaw clenching despite himself.

“Dean,” Sam says from behind him. Dean freezes in the middle of stuffing a t-shirt into the bag, unable to turn around and look at him.

“What,” he asks, stiff like set concrete.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” Sam says, like he has his own ideas about where Dean is going. “Promise me, alright?”

“Sure,” Dean says. It’s a like, but he’s pretty sure they both know it.

It’s not like he even knows where he’s going, exactly.

He doesn’t even know what he’s going there for. He just knows that he has to.

He finishes packing and they say their goodbyes. Sam bitches about it when he takes the impala, but Eileen will be coming up later in the day to discuss some kind of hunt developments. Sam will be fine.

Whether or not Dean will be fine might be a different question.

He’ll figure it out.

-

He takes the I-35 up through Illinois and Iowa, barely stopping to take a piss. The burn of the handprint has settled into something gentler, but it still throbs in a telltale heart rhythm. He thinks about Cas, at the end, standing tall and telling Dean that he loved him.

It makes his jaw go tight.

He turns up the music. It’s Creedence, and he sings along as hard as he can stand, white-knuckling the wheel.

“That’s real healthy,” he murmurs to himself in the space between songs, but it does help to have something in the car that isn’t his own thoughts, his own fuck-ups and messes.

The closer he gets to Minnesota, the stronger the pull gets.

He’s playing with fire, not doing the research and going in solo like this. Whatever’s pulling at him could be freaking anything.

But it won’t be.

He knows that for sure, even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is.

He just has a feeling.

-

After he crosses state lines the final time, rolling on into Minnesota, he stops at a diner for dinner. He gets a burger and fries, and by this point he is so full of whatever thing is pulling him forward it’s hard to stop moving. His ribcage feels like it’s full of bees.

He keeps thinking about Cas.

“This is you, isn’t it,” he murmurs. “Whatever’s happening here. It’s about you.”

No-one answers him, but he’s used to that by now.

He can fill a silence like nobody’s business, so he launches into a rambling review of the music on the regional radio station, (bland enough to give Wonderbread a run for its money,) the scenery (cold and snowy), and the present company (non-existent; please, Cas, come back to me).

The waitress keeps looking at him funny. When he goes to leave, she won’t let him pay. For a second, he thinks she might be interested, but then she gives him a soft, sad look and tells him about how her partner had taken months longer than her to come back, and that she understands what he’s going through, that he shouldn’t give up hope, and then he has to go.

-

He sits in the parking lot for a while, hands on the steering wheel, wishing he’d paid more attention to the mindfulness kick Sam’s been on for the past month.

He can’t stop thinking about the look on Cas’ face, right before -

Fuck.

If he were in any other car, he’d be punching the dashboard.

He turns up the music again instead, and wipes his face, and gets back to driving.

So it goes.

-

He stops at a motel by the interstate and stumbles out the morning after to a bright winter’s day. The sky is blue enough that he has to squint against it; the snow crunches under his boots. With every breath, the cold air knifes down his throat.

He follows the pull of his invisible line.

-

The forest is quiet. The snow muffles all sound but the crunch of his boots, which reverberate like gunshots. Dean makes a quick mental inventory of Minnesota monsters. He’s unprepared for most of them; if any of them show up, or if this is a trap, he’ll be up shit creek. He’d probably deserve it, too, coming here like this.

He walks for hours, pulled forward, chest sweetly aching and handprint throbbing to the beat of his own heart.

By the time he reaches the field, he’s almost lost track of time.

It’s just a large, empty space. If it hadn’t been covered in snow in the middle of winter, it’d make a sweet concert space.

There’s no-one else here, but -

(something in his chest wrenches)

-then there is.

A man in a trenchcoat stumbles into the clearing, and Dean knows him. He knows him, with a bright and certain rush of heat that leaves him breathless.

“Cas!” he yells, and hears the answering, “Dean!” and then he’s running and laughing and tearing up at the same time. He’s a mess, but he can’t help it, couldn’t stop it if he tried. They meet in the middle and it’s like a scene from Love freaking Actually, hugging each other tightly and spinning each other around. Cas smells like petrichor and ozone and day-old sweat. The stitching on his coat is rough and reassuring under Dean’s fingers. He never wants to let him go.

“Thank you,” Cas says, serious as a freshly dug grave, “for meeting me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy,” Dean says. Then he leans back a little to look Cas properly in the eye. “Cas,” he says. “Earlier. I said the wrong thing.”

Cas gives him an expectant look. His hands are fisting into Dean’s coat. “What did you want to say, Dean?”

The way he says his name makes Dean shudder. He swallows thickly. “I. Back when you - I said don’t do this, but what I should have said was - me too, Cas.”

Cas tilts his head slightly to the side, like he’s confused by something. Dean had almost forgotten what shade of blue they were.

“What?” Dean asks, as softly as he can, which isn’t much. He’s not good at this. Not with Cas. Not yet, but hopefully - if he dares to hope - hopefully soon.

“You don’t have to humor me, Dean,” Cas says, stiffer than a freaking fridge magnet in a freezer. “I know I’m not what you -”

And Dean can’t stand hearing him finish that sentence, can’t stand not having them be on the same page.

“Alright, fuck this,” he says, and pulls Cas down into a kiss.

[kurlyfrasier]

No-One But Her: Part 2

Zuko x Katara

Synopsis: Katara flees from the newly crowned fire lord, thinking it's what is best for him, but the moment she sets foot on a Fire Nation supply ship she starts hearing Zuko’s voice and dreaming of how he handles her disappearance.

Word Count: 1409

Warnings: none

In all his finery, Zuko looks imposing, intimidating, feared. Even with the front open, revealing the scar (or maybe the scar helps the look). Her scar. She wishes he would take it off. She wishes he would go back to wearing his comfortable travelling clothes she remembers the smell of; campfire, sweat, spice. She wishes she could walk into his open arms and feel the warmth that can only come from Zuko.

He sighs, tracing the scar as he stares into the mirror.

“Why did she heal me if she wasn’t going to stay?” The question echoes in his chambers, now empty of fire whiskey bottles with light shining in through the cracks of the curtains.

She wants to scream that it’s because she could never live without him. That she could never live in a world knowing he doesn’t exist, she rephrases.

“I would’ve preferred death to this agony,” he rasps.

She wants to punch him. Kick him. Shake him as he closes his robe, hiding the scar. The thing that proves his love for her.

“Time to be Fire Lord,” he whispers. Straightening up, shoulders back, and holding his head high he turns away from the mirror and walks out the door.

She follows unwillingly down the hall and into a large conference room with a long table in the middle, snacks set on a side table (she notices what she thinks are fireflakes in several bowls) under windows that lined the outer wall. The sunshine was blinding compared to his room. In this light she sees the dark bags under his eyes. She hopes it’s not lingering pain from the lightning bolt causing restless nights.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” the advisors greet and bow in concert, their chairs screeching over the floor as they stand up.

“Please sit,” Zuko says in the most serious tone she’s ever heard.

They obey as he walks toward the end of the table - the head of the table. After sitting, he stares at the other end longingly. Katara wonders who is supposed to sit at the empty chair there.

The advisors’ curious gazes follow their fire lord’s.

“Ah, Fire Lord Zuko,” an advisor- Ruzu?- smiles knowingly. “Might you be searching for a Fire Lady?”

“No,” Zuko glares at Ruzu, daring him to continue. 

“But you need a Fire Lady by your side. You will appear-”

“I’m not looking because I’ve already found her-” the advisors gasp in astonishment and murmur to themselves with curiosity. Katara feels a pang of jealousy towards whomever her friend was talking about.

“Wh-who?” An advisor asks, barely able to meet his Fire Lord’s piercing gaze.

“None of your concern. I know what’s best for this country and myself and it is she.”

“If it is that waterbender,” Ruzu spit out. “Then she will never be welcomed on the throne.”

“That waterbender has a name and you know it well, Ruzu,” Zuko said pointedly, his golden eyes molten in his fury. Katara knew that if Zuko was not in the meeting his fists would be flames. “She saved your Fire Lord’s life. If I hear even a whisper of any negative rumors about Master Katara-”

“But she is a peasant-”

“She is the equivalent of our royalty being the Chief’s Daughter,” Zuko snapped his eyes in the direction of the advisor who dared call Katara anything less than what she is. “This conversation is over. Do not bring up marriage again. I will marry one person only and there is nothing any of you could say or do to change my mind.”

***

Katara stirred awake in her darkened room. It was a starless, moonless night. She could feel the rage of a storm in the distance. She thinks rain is exactly what she needs to cool her flaming cheeks after witnessing Zuko defend her so fervently, until she remembers Zuko stating he already has a fire lady in mind. She now knows it was good she left. Her heart wouldn’t be able to handle seeing another woman by Zuko’s side. She thinks he may have been speaking of Mai and believes she would be a good fire lady. Perfect for the role, actually. Not quite what the advisors were hoping for, she thinks, but definitely someone who would stick to Zuko’s side.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness.” 

She curled into herself as the whisper of his voice sent shivers down her spine.

“I know I don’t deserve her.”

His rasp tickled her skin.

“Will she ever come back?”

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek. 

“Where is she?”

With a quivery sigh, she rolls over, the blankets tangled in her legs. Faintly, she wonders if his voice will ever leave her- if the dreams will ever disappear- and allows sleep to consume her once more. 

***

The garden was just as beautiful as Katara remembered it. The pond glistened under the sun’s rays, warming the sleepy-looking turtle-ducks floating on the surface. She heard a blast of flames. 

Then another. 

And another.

Curious, she strolled through the garden, passed the gate, rounded the corner, and into the training field she had practiced in at one time. Before she heard the advisors speaking of how she would be a distraction, that she would never understand their ways. Anger formed in the pit of her stomach at the memory, until she noticed Zuko- shirtless- staring out at the ocean, chest heaving.

“What burdens you, Nephew.” Katara snapped her head in General Iroh’s direction. He sat by a pai sho table, seeming as if the current game consumed all of his attention. Katara knew better, though. The man always had a sense of his surroundings, especially when his nephew was nearby.

“Did you know, Uncle?” Zuko asked softly, gaze still toward the ocean. Katara wished desperately to see his face, although he didn’t look to be as lean as he was in her last dream.

So time had passed. She wondered when the last dream must have taken place and if this one was more accurate to the current time.

“You must be more specific. There are many things I know and even more I do not.”

“What the advisors had said about her?”

“And of whom are we speaking?”

“You know who,” Zuko snapped, finally turning around to find his uncle still bent over the pai sho table. “Ugh, isn’t that game over yet?” He muttered, walking over to sit on the opposite side of Iroh.

Katara’s heart soared to see Zuko looking well-fed and healthy, and rushed as if to hug him before she remembered- she wasn’t there. So instead, she settled with looking him over; his lean muscles were becoming a bit bulkier, powerful-looking, intimidating. She wanted to know if his hold would still feel the same in those arms. She felt a smile touch her lips when she saw his eyes no longer held bags under them, even if they still held a hint of sadness. And he seemed...taller somehow, now that she sat next to them.

“It is a long game indeed, to play by messenger hawk. Kanna is also a formidable player,” Iroh sighed and glanced up at his surrogate son. 

Vaguely, Katara wonders how Iroh knows her grandmother, but is too consumed by Zuko’s presence to pay it any mind. She barely even pays attention to their chatter as she soaks every facet of Zuko in. Oh, how she wished she could spar with him, one last time. 

“She writes that Master Katara has not been to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Arg,” Zuko runs a hand through his shaggy locks. “Where could she possibly be!? She’s not with Suki, Sokka, or Toph, and Aang hasn’t seen her at any of the air temples. The men I sent out still haven’t sent back word. I don’t understand, Uncle,” he abruptly stands, marches to the middle of the training field, and starts aggressively fighting an invisible foe. “Why is she hiding? Do you think she really believed them? That she would only be a distraction?”

“Fire Lord Zuko!” A guard calls out, running into the training field, effectively getting their attention. Zuko’s stance changed from relaxed to ramrod straight, eyes narrowing as he waited for the guard to finish panting. “A cap- A captain claims he’s seen the Master Waterbender sir. Says she-”

“Speak no more,” Zuko cut the guard off with a wave of his hand. “I’ll speak to him in the throne room.”

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

Part 3

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Eight

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

March 14th, 1998

Emile was tired. He had a long day today, and it just felt like it was getting longer when he realized that he had to visit family. It was only one set of his aunts and uncles, and they only had two kids, but he still felt exhausted and not up to much.

That changed the second Emile caught sight of his two younger cousins, though. Their eyes lit up and he felt a small burst of happy energy at being the source of that excitement. He was able to play with them while the adults talked, and Emile laughed as the three of them danced around the living room. He knew he would be dead on his feet later tonight, but that was the price you paid sometimes for family. And it was totally worth it.

  July 4th, 2001

Emile was sitting in the park’s field on their picnic blanket, fondly watching a small child running around, chasing a butterfly. Remy nudged Emile’s foot, capturing his attention. “What has you so smiley?” Remy asked.

“The kid over there,” Emile said, pointing. “Kinda reminds me of some of my younger cousins. Makes me think about family, but in a good way.”

“You can think about family in a good way?” Remy asked dubiously.

“Yeah, I can,” Emile sighed. “It’s not often that I really give it thought, though.”

Remy shrugged. “Why? I get you don’t like my family, but you don’t think about yours often?”

Emile shrugged. “Well, there’s always the issue of...say...extended family asking about my love life,” he said. “Some of them are accepting and others...I don’t know. They certainly don’t come across that way. And then there’s my grandfather to worry about.”

“He’s not accepting?” Remy asked. “Someone in your family is homophobic?”

“Yep,” Emile said, voice strained. “I’ve told him about girlfriends, before, but never about my boyfriends. My parents knew, of course, but not him. He just...doesn’t understand, and doesn’t want to make the effort to understand, at least not right now.”

Remy winced. “What about that kid had you smiling, though? Why were you thinking of family in a good way?” he asked, redirecting the topic back to their original conversation before Emile could brood for too long. A fact which Emile appreciated.

“Well, it makes me think about how things were when I was younger,” Emile said. “And it takes me back to when my cousins were really little and I got to help take care of them. And because my brain is weird and makes random leaps sometimes...”

“What?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged, looking away. “Makes me think of having kids of my own, some day. Whether or not that’s something that actually happens. And I’m not like... seriously considering anything. I was never one who really gave a family much thought as a kid, it was never something I wanted outright. But sometimes, in my head, where there’s no lasting consequences if I screw up, I imagine there’s a world out there where I do have kids, biologically or not, and I get to...be a good influence, and make sure they know they’re cared for emotionally and physically, and...I don’t know. It’s not something I seriously want, and I would never ask you to raise a kid with me, especially not over this conversation, or any like it. It’s just...a fun mental exercise, sort of.”

Remy seemed to consider this a moment. “You know, I think you should donate to that sperm bank like you wanted to a while ago.”

“What? Why?” Emile asked, mind effectively doing a record scratch.

“I mean, it’s not like you’re going to be the one doing the parenting, but you get to help that family actually exist. That’s pretty cool, and if you really want to help families become families, well, that’s a pretty noble cause, I’d say. And you seem to have family on the brain a lot lately. It could...I don’t know, it’s possible that it could quiet that part of your brain when it starts to nag you about your own family,” Remy said with a shrug.

Emile sighed. “I mean...the reason it’s so hard is because I do want a family, just a little bit. Not enough to do anything about it, but I’d like to be a part of someone’s life like that. I’m not sure if donating to a sperm bank would offer that same satisfaction.”

Remy shrugged. “Look, you can do it or not, but I say you should give it a go. Worst comes to worst, no one uses your donation, you know? You could do it anonymously, no one would have to know it was you who was the father.”

Emile shook his head. “No, if I were going to donate I’d have my donation be Open ID. I just...I don’t know, if there were kids out there, I feel like it would be only fair for them to know who I was. To be able to ask about medical history in the event of some emergency or another. Even if they tried to seek me out, just to know who I was? That would be okay. I wouldn’t mind keeping in contact with a kid who I helped conceive by like, e-mail or what-have-you. Anonymous donation...just isn’t an option I’d like.”

“Oh,” Remy said.

“Does that change your opinion of it?” Emile asked.

Remy shook his head. “No, if you want to do it, you should do it. Not being anonymous just means we might have an extra person to send Christmas cards to in eighteen years.”

Emile laughed. “Can you imagine if the parents of that poor kid were homophobic? They’d have an aneurysm!”

Remy practically cackled and a few people nearby sent them odd looks. “Oh, man! There’s no laws saying you can’t donate if you’re gay or bi, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Emile said. “So assuming we’re still together in eighteen years, we’d have some very interesting Christmas cards to send.”

Remy sighed, a smile still on his face. “I like to think we’d still be together in eighteen years. Maybe twenty.”

“Yeah?” Emile asked.

“Yeah,” Remy said. “I mean, if we’re not it would have to be for a real good reason, because I can’t see myself... not enjoying your company.”

Emile blinked. He knew that Remy loved him, they had said as much to each other countless times by now. But every once in a while Remy still said things that took Emile’s breath away. Emile took one of his hands and intertwined it with Remy’s, giving him a smile. He wasn’t sure if Remy even understood how huge this was to Emile. Remy wasn’t just talking about his feelings openly, but he was talking about them casually. Like he was talking about the weather, or saying that Emile’s new glasses made him look nerdier than he already did. It was something that Emile saw as amazing progress. “I love you too, Rem,” Emile said softly.

Remy offered him a smile that was fond and full of softness, and again it took Emile’s breath away for a few seconds. He would do anything to see that smile more, and it made him ecstatic to know that he could do that just by saying how he honestly felt about Remy. His boyfriend.

The sun started to set as Emile and Remy brought out their dinner and began to eat. They had set up their picnic blanket in prime territory to watch the fireworks later tonight. And for now, they were just going to enjoy each others’ company. “So, are you going to do it?” Remy asked.

“May as well,” Emile said with a shrug. “I mean, like you said. Worst comes to worst no one uses my sample. And it’s just one appointment, and then it’s over, and I don’t have to deal with as many nagging thoughts as I otherwise would.”

“Because instinct will know that you helped produce offspring with your DNA and your genetic line gets passed on, and everything works out,” Remy teased.

“Something like that,” Emile laughed.

They returned to eating and soon it was dusk. “Fireworks should be starting soon,” Remy said idly.

Emile felt like he was vibrating in his excitement. “I know. Fireworks are super cool, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “Sometimes they’re a little loud, but they’re very pretty.”

Emile gasped dramatically. “You, Remy Picani, appreciating something that’s pretty?! Wow! I never thought I’d see the day!”

“Shut up!” Remy laughed. “I can admire things that are pretty, and I do it often enough that it’s not unusual! I just usually don’t verbalize it!”

“Oh yeah?” Emile challenged. “List five things around the park that are pretty, right now!”

Remy looked around. “The butterflies, the flowers, the clouds, the sunset in general, really, and a certain man I happen to be sharing a blanket with at the moment.”

Emile short-circuited and made a strangled noise of surprise. “Shut up!” he said, but he was laughing as he did it.

“Not a chance,” Remy said. He dotted kisses on Emile’s cheek. “I have the prettiest, most beautiful boyfriend in the world, and he deserves to know it.”

“Remy!” Emile squealed, laughing. “Stop! I’m not pretty!”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Remy said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And therefore, I can call you pretty as I please. Because to me, there’s no one prettier.”

Emile was blushing, cheeks as hot as a forest fire by this point. “You’re the worst,” he groaned into his hands.

“If by the worst, you mean the worst at letting you think you’re anything but exceptional, then I agree,” Remy said, continuing to pepper Emile’s face with kisses as he removed Emile’s hands.

“Remy!” Emile squawked. “Come on! You’re not playing fair!”

“Well, I’m not playing,” Remy said. “I’m dead serious about this.”

Emile blushed harder, a fact which he had previously thought impossible. “You’re a sap,” he said, a desperate attempt to get Remy to pay attention to something other than Emile.

“Maybe,” Remy allowed. “But I’m your sap. You’re stuck with me. Forever. And nothing you can say or do will change my mind.”

“Really?” Emile asked, surprise coloring his words.

“Emile, I seriously doubt there could ever be a time in my life where you’re not so much as my friend anymore. And I don’t intend on breaking up with you. Like, if you were the one to stop this,” Remy gestured vaguely in the air, “Then I wouldn’t be able to stop you, and I’d respect your decision. But until that hypothetical day comes to pass, if it ever does...I’m here with you. There’s no place I’d rather be, in complete honesty.”

“I...” Emile was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say.” There was a lump in his throat and his eyes were getting hot. Remy was being so open about loving Emile, and it was in public, where people who might disapprove could see them. Remy was taking that risk, and...and by the look in Remy’s eyes, he knew and he didn’t care. He loved Emile that much. “...I love you,” Emile whispered.

Remy smiled good-naturedly, and pulled Emile into his arms for a hug. “I love you too,” he said.

Emile turned in Remy’s arms to kiss him, and the second their lips met, the first firework of the night went off in the sky. Both of them jumped before dissolving into laughter. “Wow, our love really does set off fireworks! Just like in the movies!” Emile laughed.

Remy giggled. “That’s pretty cool,” he said. “I’ve never had a relationship that’s set off fireworks before.”

Another boom reverberated through the park and the two turned to look at the falling red sparkles. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Emile asked.

Remy grinned, eyes fixated on the sky. “Almost as beautiful as you, Emile.”

“Stop,” Emile whined.

“Never,” Remy vowed.

They stayed in the park, watching the fireworks go off, content to just be with each other for a while. After the fireworks ended with about twenty consecutive fireworks going off at once, and people were packing up their stuff, Remy and Emile still stayed on the blanket. “I love little domestic moments,” Emile said.

“Yeah, they are pretty nice,” Remy agreed.

“We should make an effort to do more stuff like this,” Emile said. “Going out on dates is fun and all, but so is cooking together. Having pillow fights. Cuddling. It’s super sweet.”

“Oddly enough, I don’t mind that kind of sweetness,” Remy idly mused.

“No?” Emile asked.

Remy hummed in thought, before placing a peck on Emile’s lips. “No. Not when it’s with you, at any rate. You seem to make every moment special. You help me see the good of the little things in life.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Emile said. “The last thing I want is for you to be miserable because anything good that comes your way gets immediately dismissed.”

“I had a bad habit of doing that, yeah,” Remy agreed. He smirked at Emile. “But then a beautiful, good man came into my life and turned that around.”

Emile squeaked. “Stop it!” he protested, but he was grinning ear to ear.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Michael Sheen (Aziraphale)

What drew you to Good Omens?

I have been a huge fan of Neil’s work for years. I first read Good Omens at drama school when someone in my year introduced me to comic books, and Neil’s work in particular. I read all the classic comic books - Sandman, Hellblazer, Watchmen and Swamp Thing. I loved them. I had always assumed that comic books were about superheroes and wasn’t that interested in them. But this stuff was brilliant. It was great storytelling; it was dark, gritty and fantastical. It really rang my bell. So I’m absolutely delighted to be involved in the TV version of Good Omens.

At the heart of Good Omens is the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley. What brings them together?

They both begin to realise they are rather more fond of the human race than they should be. When Aziraphale and Crowley start to appreciate each other’s positions, that compromises them, but it also draws them together. It is something that is particular to them. Over hundreds of years, we see that bond developing. They’re on opposite sides, but they’re actually very similar. They’re both supernatural, but both very appreciative of humanity.

Do they come to that realisation at the same time?

No. Much later than Crowley, Aziraphale starts to see the contradictions in the position of each team. Part of being a demon is being cynical about everything from the beginning, so Crowley realises it much more quickly. Aziraphale, on the other hand, brings an innocence and an openness to things. He’s not exactly naive, but he possesses this innate goodness.

Has it been fun to play?

Definitely. What I love about it is the idea that these two characters are special and magical. They can do miracles, but at the same time, they are very much of this world. There is also something Odd Couple-ish about them, which is great.

What do you love about the script for Good Omens?

There is a lot more humour in Good Omens than the stuff Neil has done on his own. The subject is very serious, but it is dealt with in a comic way. In revisiting it for TV, Neil has balanced it out more. There is more potential for darker notes, but it’s still very much a comedy. This script is a triangulation of the young Neil, Terry and the older Neil.

Does the fans’ passion for the book make it harder to bring Good Omens to life on screen?

Yes. It makes it difficult to adapt that world and make it exist on TV because people have very particular ideas about what it is for them. Good Omens is such a widely loved book. A lot of people have a very fond relationship with the book and have developed a strong sense of who the characters are and what they should look like.

Has fantasy writing been underrated by critics?

Yes. But by writing about things that come out of the here and now from left field, sci-fi dislocates our critical faculties and opens us up to seeing the world more clearly than some other forms. It is a great way of getting into our consciousness and sneaking up on us. It has real power.

Authors such as Neil and Alan Moore and Grant Morrison have produced some of the best writing of the last 50 years. Just because it happens to be in comic book form, people tend not to give it the attention it deserves. Maybe that’s good because it appeals to a passionate audience and doesn’t have to deal with mainstream critics gobbing off about things!

[akimmito]

Heroes are made by the path they choose

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

Master List

Chapter 13

Being married to Lila Rossi, now Agreste, for six years has been... an experience. The woman goes through life following her own path and coaxing people left and right, while he cannot say or do anything without the sole control over his mother's life being lost. Why would a man like Gabriel Agreste who claims to love his wife so much do such a vile thing? The worst thing is that he managed to sustain him legally and catch him with the last woman in the world he would have thought of marrying.

He must remain married to Lila as long as his mother remains in a coma or the hospital will be forced to kill her. Adrien has no other words for what would happen if he divorces her, but it's so sad to be married to a woman he doesn't love and he's the only one who must fulfill the damn contract, because if they discover an infidelity is the same as divorcing.

His mother deserved more, if she had followed that childhood love instead of his father, she woulded be happy...

Chloe and Marinette have been looking for ways to free him from torture, even Felix decided to help in order to free him from his sad fate. At least, it stopped being Chat Noir or that could have played against him, with how easy Lila manipulates people. He get migraines just from imagining making a mistake.

"Adrien, I'm going out to eat with Alya." Lila appears in his field of vision in her usual expensive way, always looking like he's attending a fashion event (which means expense and that translates directly to him working as a slave in different contracts. She makes her money, sure, but her expenses exceed those gains.) She barely looks at him as she checks her phone, probably talking to Alya or one of her lovers, not that he really cares.

"Sure, say hi on my behalf." She turns to leave, but Adrien stops her. "Remember that today we will have dinner with Michel Laforet for next month's charity event. "

"I wouldn't forget it."

They say goodbye barely looking at each other. Adrien is busy reviewing the job proposals, Marinette sent him a couple of locations to investigate a few weeks ago, due to a group of drug traffickers who settled in Paris and need to know their links, he of course must follow their leads and possible connections to find a way to disrupt it. He's now free to continue his work, especially since the MT is busy dealing with Akuma.

He was very surprised when he saw his first Akuma in seven years, he is also quite fearful of what this new villain intends. The way he has attacked, his champions are very different and, consistent with his cousin, he seems to be trying to measure the heroes. For that reason, he approves of Marinette's approach of keeping Luka in a safe place so that no one notices the use of the second chance, that way the villain will never know if his plans could have been altered in any way.

Wait this time it doesn't last for several years.

Now if he could understand why they want him to model in a banana suit for a soup ad, maybe he could consider it.

-----

The Anibiotic: How are bananas and soup related?

Wild goat: If it's another one of your jokes, I swear by Satan that I'll burn your house down

Silent Hill: I approve the plan

Plasticine: Your jokes are really bad, bro

Dragon Tamer: I think this is a serious question

The Antibiotic: It's a modeling proposal

Needle: They offer you the weirdest roles

Plasticine: Like the sardines!

Three balls: that was good

Not in hell: Maybe it's a way to get attention by putting two discordant elements together

Not in hell: You guys are that strange

Almost pretty: Pleasant

Wild goat: We are great, you know, there is no other creation as stylish as us

Not in hell: I would keep my comments, but I completely disagree

Dragon Tamer: If you start a discussion about this, I'm going to ban you from the chat

Wild goat: Tyranny! I will arm a revolution

Plasticine: Maybe it's banana soup. You don't understand art!

Three balls: Neither do you

Perfect Crime: You’re a disappointment

------

John Constantine was not planning to spend his morning avoiding being stabbed by a ten-year-old boy, nor avoiding being eaten by two German shepherds. But there he's, avoiding the edge of a Swiss knife as he tries to shake off two huge dogs without hurting them, because he's sure the boy's murderous intentions would triple if he hears a single screech from one of his pets.

He may not have met Damian in person, but he know enough about him from the chats and from what Marinette shared with him.

"Look, kid, stop, okay? Damn, I haven't drink enough for this... "

"Why?"

"I don't read minds, kido, you'll have to explain yourself." Damian frowns and presses the knife against the blonde's neck, if it wasn't for the dogs he couldn't have him subdued. The Kwami hesitate about what to do, they are talking... only in a very violent way.

"Why are you do with my mother?"

"Did they give you the talk yet? Because it would be very uncomfortable for you to receive it from me. ”John looks at the boy, who doesn't flinch at anything and seems ready to stab him. It would be better to collaborate, he doesn't want to harm the child, he can only imagine the adorable woman's anger if her son is hurt in some interaction between them. "Sure... Sexual attraction, simple like that. I don't pretend to be your father or to be a stable romantic couple, she deserves something much better than me. I'm just content to enjoy our time together, happy?

"Don't you want to be my father?"

"No, I'm the worst candidate for that position. What made you think that, kid? "Now it's his turn to frown. Much love can be had (he will not deny it), but both are aware that they would be the ruin of the other, he doesn't want to condemn her to a life as dark as his and expose her to all the demons that follow him, she truly deserves something better than misery fllow him.

He also knows that, despite all his complaints, Plagg has told him that he's its true owner and that his soul is balanced with that of Marinette, that's why they gravitate around each other and could trust as if they were born together. That doesn't mean they are romantically good to each other. Sexually? Magical, but the romance in their lives has been tragic and putting that together, well, it could be a problem for everyone.

"You've been with her for four years."

"We are mainly friends, confidants. Do we have sex? Yes, do we want to get married and have more children? No... We would just be miserable. Those stories that soulmates are happy together? Son, these are lies, romantic shit from movies and junk books.

Damian recoils, shocked by the information, all of it. Her mother had hinted at a casual relationship, but the look in her eyes told him otherwise. Soulmates? That doesn't exist, but the Kwami didn't exist for him either until his mother introduced them to him. Wretched? He need to analyze what he have learned.

"Why do you say that?"

"Experience, son. Do you want to sit down or go for a walk? The second seems to excite your friends more."

Damian snaps his fingers and the hounds stand beside him, freeing Constantine. Her kind gaze is very dark, long-suffering and ironic.

Just when he's about to answer, the alarm on his phone goes off and he knows what it means.

Akuma attack.

"Go away, I won't say anything."

Damian nods and Kaalki opens the portal, just look at the man's tired posture for a moment before breaking through the portal back to the MT. Agatha and Edgar just behind, have a job to do.

-------

Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen

What a wonderful day for an Akuma attack. Somebody take the stick out of the villain's ass because the beast is horrible, nor Hawkmoth dared so much

Dick Grayson @TheFlyingGrayson

WHAT HAPPENS WITH PARIS? IS IT A VIOLET DOLPHIN WITH BAT WINGS?

The Last Hours @Toogoodtodie

@TheFlyingGrayson Paris would appreciate if you blocked any information on the city from external sources in the country, if you do not know how, you can contact the @MaxKan_Tech offices to receive information

Dick Grayson @TheFlyingGrayson

@Toogoodtodie ok?

Max K. @MaxKan_Tech

@TheFlyingGrayson @Toogoodtodie Subtle, Anthony. Please, Mr. Grayson, contact my office and we'll make your stay in Paris much more pleasant. You can also contact the prosecution to find out the legal procedures for staying in Paris and the security regarding the Akuma

Marc @MarcAC_twt

Does our villain use drugs?

[ditch-witches]

Insufferable (iii) - George MacKay x reader

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 4)

requested: yes/no (im still using the same request bye)

God bless @/okay.l0z

"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"

pairing: George MacKay x reader

warnings: smut, angst

word count: 3,335

a/n: I feel like this is so vanilla and weepy. I M SO R R Y.

It had been a few days since what had happened in your apartment, but something had clicked into your mind. And it was George. You hadn't had the opportunity to really talk to him since the event, him being too wrapped up in the production and sidelining with the director, you too concentrated on the revamp of one of the costumes as well as scouts from major cinema companies sprinkled into the crowd of most of the shows. Sure, there was the occasional glance and in special cases, a wave but the wedge between the two had seemingly been growing since that night. Every time you did see him brought a sense of terror deep within you because you were now looking forward to getting an opportunity to speak to him. You wanted to vomit at the thought of ending up as another one of his groupies or the girls that longed for his attention. You hated that you couldn't just let the deed be a one-time thing and it meant nothing. Just as he said, "It's not a big deal."

Or at least you thought he had said that. Hadn't he?

You hadn't realized you were tearing up a program as the thought crossed your mind of if George had said it hadn't been a big deal or if it had. Someone snapped their fingers, pulling you out of your anxiety trance. You looked up to who had wanted your attention, your eyes falling on your very worried looking director. He was hemming a dress that had somehow gotten caught on a part of the set. It was ten minutes until the curtain call. "Have you seen George?" He called to you from his crouched position. You shook your head, furrowing your brows. "Be a dear and call him?"

"I don't have his number," you answered, walking towards him and dodging a few actors running across the stage to get to the dressing rooms. The director sighed, quickly shoving his cellphone at you and returning to the poor girl's dress. You did as you were told, the shock of your lead actor possibly flaking sent a chill down your back. You pressed a few buttons and the line began to ring. Your heart pounded in your ears and your eyes scanned the stage and you wandered into the backstage area, looking for George and his understudy. The phone continued to ring and you bit your lip. Where could he have gone? Was he in a closet somewhere with one of the stage girls?

The call dropped and you instantly redialed, heading back to where the director was. It was then that one of the back doors opened and George stepped in with a rather frustrated look on his face. The director sighed in relief, getting off of his knees and nodding at the girl before turning back to George. "Finally, I feel like I can shit solidly now. Go help him get ready, curtain in five," he stated to the both of you, shoving you in George's direction.

The two of you rushed to his dressing room, feverishly attempting to get his shirt buttoned and his suspenders on. "Where were you?" You asked, rubbing a bit of gel into your hands to fix his hair into place as he laced up his boots. "I almost had to fit Donny into your pants," you grumbled. He laughed dryly. This is when you noticed the small blot of lipstick on the side of his neck. You wet your thumb and rubbed at it and he avoided your eyes in the mirror, his expression tensing in a cringed effort at you finding the spot. "Busy I see," you joked, a small smile playing at your lips, despite the estranged sense of jealousy flaring up inside of you. "You were really going to miss the show for some pussy? Ouch," you tisked in disapproval.

George let out a soft laugh, sounding completely unlike him as he pulled his suspenders onto his shoulders and stood up. "It's not what you think." You were half expecting a smart-ass response from him. Whatever was on his mind seemed to be numbing his personality tonight.

"It's whatever. Just glad you didn't flake." You felt your humor faltering as he paused, his body remaining rather close to you. You could practically feel the warmth of his breath against your skin again and the touch of his lips. In the midst of the chaos, your nerves seemed to calm when you were this close to him. Maybe it was the sandalwood and lavender playing at your senses and the thought of the cabin in a field that set you at ease. Maybe it was just his presence finally bringing you comfort instead of intensity. His eyes danced across your face and you swore you saw him move towards you.

An abrupt knock on the door made both of you jump away from each other. Something seemed off about George and you couldn't put your finger on it. Maybe your energy around him was different and that was shaping him? You cleared your throat, pushing passed him and heading down the hall at a quicker pace. You heard George's strides behind you. "So, are you serious about that Mark guy?" He asked.

You furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder momentarily as you wove in between people. "What's it to you?" You leered.

George tucked his shirt into the back of his pants and straightened his collar as he walked. "He's an ass."

"So are you?" You shot back, almost defensively.

You heard him scoff darkly before grabbing your arm as you walked, bringing your ear closer to him. "Didn't seem to think so the other night." You shook out of his grasp, rolling your eyes. You knew he would use that night against you. "I was thinking earlier," he began but you cut him off.

"Don't hurt yourself," you jested, your words coming out a bit meaner than you had meant them to sound. Why did he have lipstick on his neck?

He seemed to match your tone. "Well, I did and figured it out. I figured, maybe that's it, huh? You like it when guys treat you like shit?" Upon reaching the stage you whipped around to look at him. He was completely serious in his statement.

"What?" You snapped.

He crossed his arms. "You haven't spoken to me in a week, that's after I treated you like a human. Mark throws you to the side like garbage all the time and you're still fucking him. You're still inviting him to shows he couldn't give a fuck about and you're still giving him the time of day. Am I not good enough?"

"Are you serious right now?"

His mouth opened slightly before his jaw tensed. "Am I wrong?"

"You have no right to talk to me like that!"

"Why not? It's the only way you'll listen!"

You furrowed your brows, your fists clenching at your sides. "Where the fuck is this coming from?"

"I've had some time to think without your insufferable nagging," he barked. You were taken aback, words slipping from your mind. He must have noticed your twisted expression. "That came out wrong. I didn't mean that..." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes dropping from yours to the floor.

You rolled your eyes, your heart breaking into pieces as you felt small and vulnerable. "Whatever. Go get on stage," you stiffly mumbled. His words echoed into your head as his face seemed to grow into shame. Usually, when the two of you bickered, you didn't leave the conversation feeling disgusted with yourself and him. Your stomach was in knots and you wanted to cry. You cursed yourself for even considering feeling something for him. Your breathing deepened as tears began to well up behind your eyes and George's understudy approached the two of you.

"Seriously? He can show up five minutes before the show and still perform but everyone else gets kicked if they aren't here two hours early?" The two of you turned to him, George's arms falling to his sides as his shoulders squared. "Special treatment for a fuck, right?" It was like a slow-motion scene from a bad action movie. George inhaled sharply but before he moved, you took a swing at the boy, your fist coming in contact with his nose, a triumphant crack of bone echoing through the air. He didn't deserve to be hit but your anger overtook you. The understudy groaned, doubling over, and George wrapped his arm around you, pulling you away from him. The director stormed over to you, eyes widening. Reality seemed to come crashing down on you as he whisper yelled for you to leave, shoving George off of you and through the curtain to keep the show moving. You straightened yourself up and nodded, apologizing and taking your leave.

You no longer bothered with holding up your skirt as you trudge through the darkness, finally letting a tear slip from your eye. Maybe this was a good thing. It proved that George was wrong. You preferred when he treated you like you deserved even an ounce of respect. Who wouldn't? But most importantly, you wanted to vomit at the idea of throwing away something so important because you couldn't control your feelings over a guy. Your dream show was closing out tonight and you were walking home in your new dress, crying over George. He didn't even deserve to be cried over after saying what he had. But here you were. You came to an abandoned clearing and took a deep breath. "FUCK," you yelled into the air, rubbing your eyes with your hands and stopping to crouch down slightly.

When you were in grade school, George made his presence known to you. He would always bicker with you when he could or hang out with your older brother when he was supposed to pick you up. He dated your best friend and broke her heart in front of you. But he always told jokes that could bring you to tears. Him simply just existing around you had come to bring you to peace without even trying. It was like he was already so stitched into your life when he had become a more dominant character to you that you hadn't even realized he was really there. Was he right? Why were you settling for Mark?

You stood up quickly when you heard heavy footsteps running towards you. You furrowed your brows in the darkness, reaching into your bag for your mace. George jogged to stop you. "You need to cut that out. You know how many times I've almost pepper-sprayed you?" He chuckled at your joust, catching his breath.

"You fucking punched Donny," he stated unevenly, resting his hands on his knees.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, fuck face. I was there." You leaned slightly to catch his eyes. "Did you run after me to tell me I have issues again?"

"No. I was going to tell you I miss your nagging."

You exhaled through your teeth, turning on your heel. "I'm going home."

"Come on, listen." You turned back, raising an eyebrow at him and crossing your arms. "I was there when your dad gave you your first screenplay. It was Judge Dredd." You tilted your head, asking his point. "Your dad asked us---your brother and I---what he should get you that year. It was my suggestion."

"So?"

"I don't know how to say this without sounding like a stalker but I've loved you since I met you. And I know weird shit about you because for some reason I can't get you out of my head." He straightened up as he spoke. He seemed like he hadn't meant to tell you, but nodded to himself. "Yeah," he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I love you."

You rolled your eyes. "Give me a break, George. It's been a long night."

He reached out for you. "I know you love me too." You looked up at him lazily. "I know you do. I feel it every time we're together. Shit, even when you're screaming at me, I know."

"Why the fuck would you say that shit about me then?"

"I freaked myself out. I overthought everything that happened that night. After we didn't talk, that is." You huffed. "I mean, in all honesty, I don't like going down on girls usually but I enjoyed you," a lightness had returned to his voice.

You scoffed. "Stop bringing it up!"

"I can't help it." You shook your head at his words. "Tell me I'm wrong about how you feel about me." You furrowed your brows, unable to find a response in your head. Tonight was a rarity in you being literally speechless, both accounts happening with the same man in front of you. Your head swam with a million thoughts at once and all you wanted is for then to settle. You took a few steps to close the gap between you finally, your hand reaching up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him down to you. Your lips crashed against his, stunning him momentarily before you felt him relax against you, his arms snaking around you to pull you closer to him. The smell of his cologne was a safe haven, infiltrating your brain and quieting the noise. His lips against yours left you with only him to think about. His hand moved to cup your face, wanting to eliminate all possible space between the two of you.

You broke away from him, his arms still around you as you hovered inches from his face, looking up into his eyes. "What now?" You mumbled. He barely moved an inch to shrug. "Should we fuck?"

"I'd be okay with that..." he answered, and before you knew it, you were falling onto George's bed as he climbed over you, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders.

Each kiss sent warmth throughout your body. His lips drew patterns across your skin; different from your birthday gift when George was seemingly rushed. He had all the time in the world to take care of you tonight. Maybe it was the way he had---almost effortlessly---said he loved you that drove you into his arms. Like it was already second nature to him but foreign and... a relief. You sighed as he hesitated before nipping at the skin of your collarbones. You drove your hands into his hair, your fingers locking around the slight curls forming after the rain. He sat off of you, letting you turn to settle on top of him, your hands reaching for your zipper as you straddle him. He watched your movements carefully, drinking the sight of you in like you were the last thing he wanted to see before the world ended. You pulled your dress over your head, your hair falling out of the elaborate mess you had previously braided it into to cascade around your bare shoulders.

He sat up to press his lips against yours again like he had been away from you for years, his hands resting on your thighs lightly before brushing up your back to settle in your hair. You worked at undoing his buttons, breaking the kiss momentarily to focus on your work, giggling slightly as his breath feathered over your shoulder. Your hands ran across his chest to hook into his suspenders, pulling them off before stripping him of the shirt as well. His hands settled on your hips, moving you to grind against his lap. You moaned into his shoulder, your arms wrapping around him. His hand reached up to rest against your jaw, bringing your lips back to his. You pushed him back on the bed, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear as you fumbled with George's belt buckle, the thought crossing your mind that technically you were about to fuck Charlie. You slid his pants down his legs, climbing back into his lap.

His lips settled on your chest, unclipping your bra and taking one of your breasts in his hand. How many times had he thought of being with you in this way? Had he planned out the way he wanted to touch you? "Stop thinking..." he mumbled, his lips gently pressing against your neck with his arms wrapping around you to pull you beneath him.

"If I stop thinking I'm going to forget what I'm doing."

George chuckled, placing a kiss on your lips. "And then what?"

"I don't know. I'll bite you or something," you joked, kissing his jaw as he smirked.

"I like biting," he leered. You laughed, wrapping a leg around him to pull him against you.

"Dream on, lover boy," you grumbled. He smiled into your kiss and you seemed to relax. His hips dug into yours, the friction bringing a lazy smile to your face as you bit your lip. You tugged on his hair, making him moan into your ear to mix with his motions. "I want you, George," you stated, your voice falling from your lips in a slightly deeper tone, your breathing uneven with passion. He moved to look into your eyes, pausing for a moment before his hand slid between your waistband and your hip to remove your underpants.

He smirked slightly, his lips finding your neck once again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that," he practically growled.

You tugged at his boxers. "Shut up, stalker." He chuckled, before pressing into you, filling you up like he was built for you. You hummed slightly, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to move. He gripped onto the edge of the mattress beside your head as he leaned his weight on his forearm. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, bringing your hips up to move with his.

He pressed a kiss behind your ear, the tenderness of the action making your toes curl. "You're so beautiful..." he mumbled, his lips brushing against your collarbones again as his thrusts into you became deeper. You were slowly beginning to realize they were his favorite part of your body. You wrapped yourself around him, rolling the mess of the two of you so you were perched on top of him once again. His expression of mild excitement made you quirk an eyebrow in his direction. His eyes lit up as his hands ran the length of your thighs.

You chuckled slightly, swirling your hips against him. "Sub," you jeered.

He groaned at your teasing, slapping your ass mockingly as you moved. "You like it," he quipped. You bit back a laugh, hushing him by covering his mouth.

"You talk too much." Your comment made him groan against your hand. He held onto your hips, moving you at a quicker speed and pulling himself deeper into you, drawing you towards him. Your hand pressed into the mattress, fingers curling around the sheets as George pulled you down to him again, his lips melding to yours. You groaned, finding your sweet spot as he did so and picking up your pace again. The veins in his neck tightened, indicating that he was approaching his own climax. A few more thrusts and you were straightening up, your hands in your hair as a rush of pleasure spread through your body, the knot deep within you unraveling. George's head tilted back as you felt him release inside of you. Your actions slowed, realizing just how tired you actually were. George exhaled deeply, pulling you into his arms. You relaxed against him as he placed a kiss to your temple, another action that demonstrated just how much he cared for you. As he tugged the sheets around the two of you and began drifting off to sleep, a content grin playing on his lips lazily, you found a pang of newfound guilt weighing in your stomach.

[kewltie]

Bakugou Tatsuya was born three minutes earlier than his twin and Katsuki had never let that go. They'd competed over everything – their parents’ attention, in sport and the school rankings. It was but a simple sibling rivalry, until it isn't anymore. Not when the heart is out on the frontline and neither of them is known for their mercy.

"Four hundred and eighty-eighty, huh," Tatsuya muses, looking at the scoreboard that was just posted for the first term finals. "We tied up." Not a first for either of them, but considering the prize of their wager. The results are startlingly revealing. "I thought you didn't care."

The weeks leading up to the finals, he'd locked himself in his room and crammed harder than he even did for the entrance exam for U.A., while Katsuki was out with his friends nearly everyday. To play, Tatsuya had thought, but clearly that wasn't the case at all.

He should have known. Identical twins. No matter how many people say that their similarity ended at their appearance, the level-headed Tatsuya and the firebrand that is Katsuki, they're two halves of a whole. It seems falling for the same person is written into the code of their DNA, the fabric of their very being. And neither of them is up for sharing, because for there to be a winner there must be always be a loser. It wasn't always like that though. Tatsuya would cripple his pride for Katsuki, his only and most precious brother, if it comes down to it.

He could take a loss. Or two.

But for the first time in a long time he doesn't want to let go of the hand holding his. Not even for Katsuki. And so the battle line is drawn around Izuku. He just didn't know how serious Katsuki would take it. Unlike Tatsuya, Katsuki had always kept his true feelings locked away and buried it under layers and layers of gruffness and rough exteriors.

He'd guarded it so zealously that it'd fooled Tatsuya. Once.

"I don't." Katsuki sneers beside him. "The bet was who would get a better rank in the finals and I just wanted to kick your ass. It has nothing to do with Deku.”

"Is that right?" He raises a brow.

"Yea," Katsuki says with a dismissive snort.

"So you won't mind me taking Izuku out on a date either way?" Tatsuya says, low and pointed. He'd never need to use his fist to hit where it hurt the most. His words are weapon themselves. "It doesn't bother you at all?"

At his words, Katsuki's jaw clenches as his hands balls into a fist at his side and his body tenses up like a dynamite ready to explode and all his triggers are named Deku. It's hysterically easy to read him like this.

Why couldn't Tatsuya have seen this all earlier?

Before the seed of this searing love toward Izuku took root and grew within him till it became this unmanageable thing, spilling out of him in droves. He doesn't know how Katsuki was able to hide it that long, when it's feels like an impossible millions things stuffed in him and he’s overflowing from it.

"You didn't fucking beat me," Katsuki finally answers, and his voice is unexpectedly cool against the violent storm brewing in his red eyes. "We’re tied up, so Deku isn't yours to take."

"Who you think deserve it then?" Tatsuya presses, pinning Katsuki with a glare of his own. "You, who made him cried countless times in the past?"

A thick blanket of silence falls over them, it's suffocating. Stilted against the noise of the hallway, but expected. This is a familiar battleground. Revisit a hundred times before again and again under a different kind of light and setting. In class, the field, in their home.

It's always been a contest for them. An unending series of question: who's smarter? Who's stronger? Who is the best? Who—? Who—? The answer didn't better so much as the thrill of the chase and the battle leading up to it. But then, the question became, who does Izuku loves the most?

That was when it stopped being a game between them. It’s a full blown war now.

Katsuki flexes his hand, clenching and unclenching it at his side, as though quietly mulling over it. Over the idea whether if he should answer the hit from Tatsuya's words with a physical jab of his own.

Katsuki takes a deliberate step forward toward him, but Tatsuya holds his ground. He won't be move. Not even for Katsuki. If he was a kinder person, a better older brother maybe, he would have step aside for Katsuki, but Tatsuya is tired, so very tired, of being the 'good' one, the good twin as though he only exists to be Katsuki's foil; the approachability of his image to balance out Katsuki's prickliness.

His yang to Katsuki's yin. Opposing forces working in mutual harmony, but to never stand apart.

"Tatchan is Tatchan and Kacchan is Kacchan," Izuku had once said, consoling him after another physical altercation with Katsuki. "I think it's amazing to have a twin." He'd smiled wistfully. "You guys share the same womb for ten months and that bond is stronger than anything, but you're also your own person with your own goals and desires. It doesn't always have to be an and/or thing."

While Katsuki and Tatsuya clashed over everything because they're dumb boys with an over competitive streak a mile wide, Izuku was playing the peacemaker between them. He probably doesn't expect that he would be something the twins would ferociously fight over too one day.

"Are you going to punch me now?" Tatsuya challenges.

Katsuki stops just shy of him, arms still at his side. "I should," he answers with a sharp grin of his own; the spread of his teeth is menacing and purposeful. "I really fucking should, just to shut up your arrogant mouth, but then I would be playing right into your hand."

 Tatsuya's eyes narrow minutely. It's easy to forget for all of Katsuki's violence and foul mouth, he's as keenly intelligence as Tatsuya. His score on the board speaks for itself.

"You—" he starts, but the rest of his words are swallowed by a familiar voice calling their name.

"Tatchan, Kacchan!" They both turn toward the noise and catches sight of Izuku running up to them with a breathless joy. "I heard!" He draws to a stop in front of them, breathing heavily and a face flushed with delight. "Congratulation for making it to the top ten out of our entire grade! You guys are amazing to tie for 2nd place." His grin is infectious and exuberance, dolling out affections and admirations like he got an untapped well of it.

Katsuki's face twists in annoyance. "Fuck 2nd place and the rest of the plebs. Should have taken first instead."

Tatsuya hums in agreement. They really should have.

Izuku pouts. "Hey, I got eight place and I'm happy."

"Because you're dumb and don't know how to not settle for what you rightfully deserve," Katsuki snaps, looking pointedly at him. Not that Izuku even catch any of his underlining meaning as he only looks sheepish in answer.

"You did great too, Izuku. I know how hard you study for that," Tatsuya says instead, much to the resentful glare of Katsuki aiming toward the side of his head. Not his fault that Katsuki's clumsy and inefficient way with words get his foot stuck in his mouth often.

His ineptitude is Tatsuya's advantage.

Izuku perks up with a shy and sweet smile. "T-Thank you, Tatchan!" he says. "It's all due to our study sessions. You’d helped a lot!"

Katsuki's miffed scoff can be heard loud and clear, but Tatsuya wisely ignore it to push for his end goal. "Then how about we go out this Saturday to celebrate finishing our finals and making it to the top ten?" he asks with careful deliberateness as he avoids meeting inevitable explosion beside him. He knows what to come after, but Katsuki only goes deathly still and quiet against his provocation.

Izuku's audible gasp is the only thing that can be heard. "Oh," he breathes, eyes widen in surprise. "Um," he scratches his cheek, looking anywhere but at them, "the three of us then?"

Tatsuya shakes his head. "No, just you and me." He pauses. "Will that be a problem?"

Green eyes flash toward him. "N-No, of course not!" he insists, an attractive blush rises to his cheeks. "I would love to join you on Saturday!" He casts a furtive glance at Katsuki. "But, um—"

"We have a track meet this Saturday," Katsuki cuts in, severe and low. The fact that he has been quiet all this time and hasn’t raise his voice since Izuku had joined them is startlingly enough; it's the calm before the storm. Katsuki's ire had been simmering under the surface; Tatsuya doesn't have to see it. He can feel the animosity seeping out in waves.

Izuku scrunches up nose in realization. "Oh, yes I forgot about that. Sorry!"

"It's a practice game against Tohei High, right?" Tatsuya counters, not even considering for a moment to give Katsuki an inch. "Izuku doesn't have to be there. And he's not even an official manager of the club so why do you drag him to these things?"

Katsuki bristles, anger finally getting the better of him. "The little shit begged to join us! I didn't fucking invite his ass," he hisses. "He's such a pest—" his brain catches up to his thoughtless mouth at last and the rest of his sentence died an awful, regretful death.

Izuku flushes, gaze dropping to the floor as his shoulders droop. "I see," he says quietly. "Then it wouldn't be a problem if I go with Tatchan instead."

With only Tatsuya's eyes on him, Katsuki's face goes through a gauntlet self-hatred, guilt and hurt before settling for resentment. "Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want," he snarls, voice twisted in such open derision and disgust that it's a marred of feelings. At himself, Izuku, or Tatsuya, nobody knows, but his anger is palpable enough that Izuku jerks his head up to look at him.

But Katsuki already has his back to them and is making his way out of the quagmire of a situation before anyone can get another word in.

Concern and anxiety etches across Izuku's face as he stares hauntingly at Katsuki's retreating back. It's wrought with worry over Katsuki.

Tatsuya desperately wants to reach out and ease his anxiety, but Izuku made the decision for him. "Kacchan, wait!" he cries out, running after him. He stops momentarily to look back apologetically at Tatsuya. "Sorry, I'll see you this Saturday then!"

And then he's gone. Just like that. After Katsuki.

While Tatsuya is left alone all by himself when there used to be three. He got a date out of Izuku. It's a victory in the most basic definition of it, but it feels hollow. Why is it that Katsuki is the one who ran away, but all Tatsuya sees is defeat in the vacant spaces they had left?

Because, he knows, it's an empty victory. He may have won this battle, but the war isn’t over. Far from it. Izuku has yet to choose his side and Katsuki may have retreated right now, but he hasn't thrown in his towel yet. After all, the best things are always worth the fight.

[echodrops]

Why You Should Be Shipping Shigaraki/Ochako

No, no, hang on a second--I see that side-eye you are throwing hard enough to ruin your peripheral vision. I feel the shade you’re casting like a thundercloud rolling in. But you didn’t read wrong. I meant what I said.

I’ve never made a secret of my love for rare pairs, but for once in my damn lonely shipper’s hellscape of a life I would love it if my favorite crack ship in a fandom had more than two fics (I’m NOT JOKING) to its name.

What can I do to correct this egregious oversight before the entire summer passes with nary a whisper of the most romantic ship since Juliet wherefore art thou’d Romeo?

Well, what else? I was forged in the fires of early 2000s’ fandom, and I know that desperate times call for desperate measures meticulously researched and extremely rose-tinted

Shipping Manifestos.

Fam, I am about to blow your minds, align your chakras, open your third eyes--because Shigaraki and Ochako is the most slept on ship in the entire BNHA fandom, and if you give me ten minutes like an hour (holy shit, this is long), I can prove it.

Disclaimer: @mistystarshine is the enabler who convinced me to write this but we were both enabled by @ohmytheon’s Reconfigure (on AO3) so you know who’s really responsible.

Spoilers to Chapter 231, watch out.

First off, I know what you’re thinking. Maybe you’re still reading from pure shock. Maybe you’re doubt-reading to get your daily fix of internet skepticism. Maybe you’re waiting for me to say these two characters are meant to be because she wears pink and his hair is blue. Maybe you’re already freaking out about age gaps but like that is what future fics and AUs are actually for!!!

I’m not telling you to give up your IzuOcha or Kacchako. I’m not gonna pry ShigaDabi out of your eager little villain stan hands. But if you’ve never considered multi-shipping, now is the time my friends, because I’m totally serious heartfelt here! I’ve got VALID reasons for shipping Shigako--ten of them, in fact:

1) Midoriya is taken for granted as Uraraka’s love interest--but Shigaraki is incredibly similar to him.

There are reams of meta on the parallels between Midoriya and Shigaraki, with plenty people noting how Horikoshi specifically set the two up as foils to examine similar character development despite their drastically different circumstances. Yet for all the meta pointing out that Shigaraki and Midoriya are basically the same character through a mirror darkly, I’ve never seen anyone bear that thought out to its logical conclusion: there are traits Uraraka admires in Midoriya that are extremely apparent in Shigaraki too.

Multiple times in the manga, Uraraka expresses admiration for Deku’s resolve and refusal to give up. His determination in the face of impossible odds and his sense of dedication to his cause are powerful motivating factors in Ochako’s storyline, and Deku’s behavior--his willingness to charge straight into danger and his unflinching pursuit of his goal to be #1--have basically become the standard to which Uraraka holds herself.

Her crush is literally founded on an appreciation for Midoriya’s drive, earnestness, and constant growth as a person.

But these are all traits that Shigaraki also explicitly possesses. Shigaraki’s unwavering resolve is so strong that even though everyone around him says dream is unattainable... they follow him anyway.

Ujiko flat out tells Shigaraki he’s chasing a pipe dream, but he’s willing to come along for the ride strictly because of how committed Shigaraki is to making that dream a reality. The strength of Tomura’s conviction alone persuaded a collection of the most volatile and difficult personalities in the manga to band together and become found family the most well-known anti-establishment organization in all of Japan.

Shigaraki never, even in the face of overwhelming threat, backs down from a challenge, and he approaches each impossible task with absolutely as much effort, ferocity, and refusal to quit as Deku. He is just as dedicated, just as much of a shounen protagonist main character, and just as willing to push himself above and beyond as Deku.

The traits that motivated Uraraka to become the character she is today, many of the exact same traits that formed her crush on Midoriya, are all there in Shigaraki. In another world, the person who inspired Uraraka to go “Plus Ultra” could be Tomura himself, and if 1) no sense of self-preservation, 2) ZERO CHILL, and 3) dogged obsession are what Uraraka finds attractive, Shigaraki clearly has 'em covered. Oh no, he’s meeting all my standards.

2) Being serious though, Ochako’s role in the plot would be vastly improved by more meaningful interactions with the antagonists, even if just in battle.

I’ve written before about how badly the writing of BNHA treats Ochako, and why her constantly being out-of-focus is a hallmark of the genre’s crippling inability to handle dynamic female characters, but it bears repeating: in her current position in the story, Uraraka’s character has minimal agency. She exists to fill the role of Deku’s love interest (at worst) and an emotional crutch (at best). Again, absolutely no hate on the IzuOcha ship--it’s clearly canon endgame and “wholesome” I guess is what they’re calling it nowadays. But the way IzuOcha’s being written in canon is actually the worst possible thing that could happen to Uraraka’s individual character, because Ochako’s crush on Deku has been given virtually no bearing on the story’s main plot and allows Horikoshi to consistently reduce Uraraka’s personal accomplishments to “inspirations from Deku” (in order to, likely, fulfill young male readers’ fantasy of having a girl fixated on them).

Is Uraraka about to do something cool in the manga? Wait for her comment about being motivated by Deku.

Does Uraraka actually get to see some action and get involved in a fight? Wait for someone to bring up her feelings for Deku.

Is Deku about to have a dramatic clash with the story’s villains to advance the main plotline? Wait for Ochako to entirely vanish (at worst) or get sidelined into a three panel clip where she’ll use the same martial art move she’s been using since like chapter 10 (at best).

If I have to read “Gunhead Martial Arts” one more fucking time... Give Ochako her OWN supermoves goddammit!!

The story of the comic itself continually pushes Ochako out of any position of relevance. She’s not one of UA’s strongest fighters (despite having a quirk that, if applied like ANY of the male characters, has incredible potential), she’s not given half the emotional depth or attention even side characters like Kirishima get, and her backstory lacks the development many of the male characters’ get (I’m looking at you, Todoroki).

As a “good girl,” she isn’t allowed to get her hands dirty like Toga, she isn’t allowed to get as bloodied or ugly as any of the boys, and she can never be allowed to surpass the main male characters in coolness or plot relevance because girls can be “heroes” but they can’t be The Hero™. (I’m literally gagging, guys.)

Which is EXACTLY why a plot involving Shigaraki and Ochako--in ANY capacity, even just a flat out fight against each other!--would actually be a fan-fucking-tastic addition to BNHA.

Skip the token Toga vs. Ochako chick fight where they squabble over who loves Izuku more. Let Toga talk to Izuku as herself for once. Let Uraraka throw down with the League’s leader. At least once, Horikoshi? Just once?

Literally any form of plot that puts Shigaraki and Ochako into contact would mean moving Uraraka into a more central position within the manga’s plot, would boost her screen-time, increase the likelihood of her contributing to the story’s primary conflict, and would give her more to do and emotionally engage with than just repeating the same lines about Deku being amazing on an endless loop. There is untapped character development potential in spades here if Uraraka was given chance to genuinely interact with the other half of the story’s cast!

Give👏 Uraraka👏 something👏 meaningful👏 to do!👏

Putting the story’s foremost female character on out there on the frontlines with the manga’s actual main character antagonist would finally break her out of the mold she’s been forced into by genre stereotypes and set her on an even playing field with the male heroes at last.

A meaningful encounter with Shigaraki could be Ochako’s ticket to being treated respectfully by the story itself (and hell if giving underappreciated characters a real place in the world isn’t Tomura’s freakin’ calling card already).

3) Okay, I know the words “subverting expectations” leave a bad taste in everyone’s mouth nowadays, but there is a huge difference between “throwing inexplicable plot twists at the audience just for shock factor” and “averting stale cliches in an emotionally rewarding manner.” Sure, cliches do exist for a reason, but there are still many instances where actively avoiding a cliche plotline is a great choice. A shounen manga’s token love interest ending up with someone other than the hero--namely with a (reformed) villain--would be an interesting flip on the trite “hero gets the girl” script.

Look, we all know how it goes: Hero clashes with Bad Guy. They duke it out all over Kingdom Come. RIP like fifty square city blocks. The Hero wins, heads home triumphant, sweeps his Princess off her feet, and sails off into the hero rankings sunset. End of the same story we’ve seen a million times. Sometimes it’s done well and the audience is left satisfied. Other times, the heroine involved is reduced to the hero’s reward, less person than wish fulfillment. In either case, tying up a romantic subplot with a hero is the go-to way of resolving female characters’ storylines and, at this point, pretty much a given in manga, even when the romantic subplot is never given the development it deserves, leaving audiences bewildered at how and why the hook-up actually happened.

I’m not saying every comic should “subvert expectations” and cancel its romantic subplot between the hero and heroine, of course not. But I am saying that it would be pretty refreshing to see something else for once.

By virtue of their role, villains don’t usually “get the girl.” Even redeemed villains rarely end up in happy, healthy, well-written relationships. It’s not impossible but it is unlikely that a series’ designated female lead ever wavers in her attentions from the main hero to a new romantic target.

So it would be pretty cool if one did, if the moral of the story’s romantic subplot wasn’t just "token love interest completes painfully shoehorned romantic gestures.” A good romance with a redeemed ex-villain instead of a hero would take a lot more explanation. It would demand, by its very nature, more work on the author’s part to suspend disbelief. The characters would have to develop an entirely different rapport from the normal interactions between designated love interests, and, to a certain extent, strong character growth would be required in order for such a romance to even get started. There’s more moral complexity and conflict to a subplot like this, and a greater sensation of choice--if the heroine doesn’t have to end with the hero by the end of the story, well hey... That means she could end up with just about anyone. Whoa.

Even more so, in the specific case of Shigaraki, who has lived a life of misery and manipulation, the idea that he could come out on the other side, grow as a person, redeem himself, and eventually enter a healthy relationship with someone who isn’t going to hurt him is an idea I find deeply appealing. I think there are a lot of villain stans, myself included, who see parts of themselves in Shigaraki. If a character who has been so severely impacted by abuse can still heal and ultimately end up happy, to me, that’s a far more hopeful and heart-warming conclusion than the alternatives. I did warn you this manifesto would be rose-tinted, didn’t I?

I want storylines that prove that none of us are beyond saving. That people who make bad choices can still change. That romance isn’t a reward for playing the “right” role. That heroines have options. That there are still pleasant surprises to be found in romance plots.

4) But why Shigaraki and Ochako, in particular? It’s not like they have any remotely shared life experiences--

Oops. Friendly reminder: Ochako is the only major character in the manga besides the villains who is overtly described as, I quote, “poorer than poor.” Todoroki, Yaomomo, and Iida can all make it rain; Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou can afford stylish clothes; Kirishima can drop a stupid amount on night vision googles... Even Midoriya, whose father “works overseas,“ can afford plenty of All Might merchandise. One of the popular fandom theories for a while was that Ochako could be U.A.’s traitor specifically because of her desire to help her parents financially, and I think that most readers at this point can discern a clear divide in BNHA’s society: heroes are the “haves” and villains are the “have nots.” To be a hero in this story is to attend a prestigious school, have access to expensive support items, gear, insurance, fame and glory, etc.

Meanwhile, with the exception of All For One, to be a villain in BNHA’s story is to be marginalized, live in unfit conditions, lack access to basic safety and nutritional resources, and struggle to make ends meet. When ability to thrive in a hero-centric society is synonymous with being a good and worthwhile person, anyone who doesn’t just naturally excel in the hero-driven economy is treated as flawed at best and suspect at worst. Poor characters in the story are ignored, and, as demonstrated with people like Twice, left essentially to fend for themselves.

Uraraka’s status as lower income is mostly played for laughs. She’s still a privileged character in that she can attend U.A., receive hero items for free, has a safe place to live, etc. But it is important that the story acknowledges her family’s situation, because her financial status does set her apart from her classmates.

She is less privileged than the others. Being “the poor character” situates Uraraka in the interesting divide between those who couldn’t cope and chose to rebel against hero society instead, versus those who conformed to the hero system in an attempt to improve their situations. In different circumstances, if Uraraka’s family was just even the tiniest bit worse off, we might be seeing a very different character here, one who had to make some much harder choices to keep her family afloat.

Having been in the position of "going without,” Uraraka also has a unique understanding of the “real world” that many of her heroics classmates might lack. She understands what it is like to go hungry, to not be able to afford to keep up with the newest trends, to be constantly anxious about the future--to feel unsuccessful, overlooked, and under constant pressure to perform. As someone who wasn’t raised in the lap of luxury or even really a middle-class home, Uraraka has more insight into--and would likely have more empathy for--the plight of the downtrodden daily criminals of the BNHA world. Just based on her own life experiences, Ochako is more likely than her classmates to recognize how harsh reality can be, and understand the temptations that lead people to make terrible decisions.

This makes Ochako an especially interesting character in terms of her pro hero future. Would she be able to sympathize and reach out to struggling "villains” more effectively than others from her class, who lack her humble background? Would she be able to better see the big picture of BNHA’s society, and the way it actively creates villains from its marginalized populations? Would she be able to look at the League not just as criminals, but also as people who never stood a chance within the confines of a rigged social structure?

Uraraka’s background shifts her closer to the story’s villains than many of the other hero characters, and puts her in a unique place to both empathize and become motivated to change the flawed system that produced people like Shigaraki and the League in the first place.

5) Likewise, Uraraka’s background actually makes her more palatable to Shigaraki than other heroes. At least at the beginning of the comic, Uraraka isn’t shy about admitting that one of her reasons for becoming a hero is to help her parents financially. Ochako’s original motivation for heroism isn’t portrayed as nobly as others’ like Deku--Deku has no ulterior motives for being a hero; he just wants to save people and wouldn’t care about personally benefiting.

Instead, Ochako is presented as someone who (initially) sees heroism as a means to an end. It’s not that she doesn’t want to save people, but that she’s not doing so only for the intrinsic worth... the hefty paycheck that comes from heroism is a big draw.

Over time the manga has shown her shifting away from this (which actually makes her character less unique, unfortunately), but I’m sure it’s still a thought for her, and she’s definitely going to send paychecks to her parents in the future. At the end of the day, heroism is still going to be Uraraka’s ticket to a better lifestyle, even if she’s committed herself to it honestly by the time she leaves U.A.

But it’s this exact form of personal motivation that Shigaraki is much more likely to understand than the “goody-two-shoes” motivations of people like Deku. Multiple times in the comic Shigaraki has expressed confusion with society’s habit of clinging mindlessly to symbols, of their blind faith in the virtues of heroism, and their ability to simply overlook suffering because “surely a hero will do something about it.” Stain’s ideals about “true heroes” go straight past Shigaraki, who seems to hate heroes who are earnest (All Might, I’m talking about All Might) far more than those who are simply faking their way through for fame. 

Shigaraki understands humans who are driven by personal gain. He respects the individual desires of people he cares about. Someone in the hero industry explicitly seeking tangible benefits would likely, to Shigaraki at least, come across as more genuine than someone who claims they have no ulterior motives, and a person who is blunt about their needs and grounded in the reality of BNHA’s world would likely be much more acceptable to Tomura than someone who spews trite lines about peace and justice.

Shigaraki’s feelings for heroes have been irreparably damaged by his conditioning from All For One, but there are certainly some heroes that he would find less loathsome than others. He will probably never understand Deku’s selflessness. All Might’s saccharine symbolism actively infuriates him. But a person who became a hero to put food on the table? To provide for her parents (maybe especially because it is her parents she’s trying to provide for)? That’s at least understandable. If the manga’s future does see Shigaraki redeemed, my thought is that the only type of heroes we’ll ever see him willingly interact with would still be heroes just like Ochako, with more “down to earth” personal motivations. Uraraka, your codename is “If I had to date a hero”...

6) While we’re talking about shared life experiences, there’s another very obvious similarity between Shigaraki and Ochako: neither one of them can touch things with all five fingers.

Cute/fridge horror observation: Shigaraki is even daintier about touching things than Uraraka is; Uraraka usually lifts just her pinkies, but Shigaraki frequently uses as few fingers as possible.

Yeah, yeah, they both have to be dainty and careful with everything they hold. It’d be cute to watch them eat together. They could mutually gripe about the annoyance of video game consoles not designed for four-finger use. More than that though, neither one of them can touch other human beings without the risk of causing death.

Uraraka, as a hero, has the more privileged quirk design (she can turn her quirk off, while Shigaraki can’t) and until recently, the comic was always very careful to portray Uraraka’s quirk in a way that no one was endangered by it. But dropping Zero Gravity into the hands of a villain for a single chapter reveals the truth: Uraraka’s quirk has just as much lethal potential as Shigaraki’s.

Like Shigaraki, Uraraka has to face the reality that her touch alone could jeopardize the safety of anyone she comes into contact with, in her daily life and in her hero work. Drop some debris without looking twice? Just crushed a civilian. Release your quirk without thinking? Now the villain you floated is paste on the sidewalk. Thought that it was safe to float away the building? Oops, you crushed someone still trapped inside. Yikes. In a one-on-one battle, Uraraka is actually at a disadvantage not because her quirk is weak, but the dead opposite--in an outdoor fight, she would have to actively work not to accidentally send people off into outer space.

Having an auto-activate touch quirk means that both Shigaraki and Ochako have to be conscious of every single thing they touch all the time. Both of their quirks require constant bodily awareness, and both come with the lurking knowledge that “My touch causes problems.” Even for Ochako, who would merely be a nuisance if she accidentally floated objects indoors, it’s easy to internalize frustration and negative associations with one’s own body. Every day, Ochako has to be careful with herself in a way that few of her peers do, another factor that sets her apart.

One of the story’s overarching themes is the idea of “self-acceptance” and what it even means to “accept yourself” in a world where (almost) every human being possesses a distinguishing feature, often built into their bodies at the expense of standard human functioning. For people with limited control over their quirks, who can’t choose when the effect activates, a quirk is a constant burden and facet of their identity that entirely re-shapes how they interact with the world. Both Shigaraki and Uraraka face the practicality of having burdensome, even lethal, auto-activate quirks that require constant self-awareness. This is a similarity that, of the major characters, only Shigaraki and Ochako possess so far. (Even other major characters with touch-based quirks like Overhaul appear to be able to choose when to activate their quirks).

The “funny” way Shigaraki and Ochako hold things seems like just a small similarity until you remember the amount of practice and frustration it must have taken to internalize a four-fingered touch. Until you remember that this similarity marks them both as very careful and self-conscious characters. Until you remember that Shigaraki’s got a one-touch instakill... but so does Uraraka Ochako.

7) Okay, similarities are cool and all, but you know what they say: opposites attract. And if we’re talking character motivation, there are no cleaner opposites in the entire series. Shigaraki and Ochako are actually even better emotional foils than Shigaraki and Deku, because Ochako’s central motivation is “Make as many people smile as possible” and Shigaraki’s is, literally, “Make it so no one can ever smile again.”

I know I ragged on it earlier, but now I’m going to use it to my full advantage: as the story evolved and characters grew, Ochako’s “true” motivation to become a hero revealed itself: she feels a deep, intrinsic happiness when witnessing the happiness of others. Her desire as a hero is to spread relief, the sense of security that allows people to go about their days smiling. She literally feels happiest when everyone around her is happy.

Even more so than Deku, this casts Uraraka as Shigaraki’s diametric opposite in the story, because Shigaraki’s entire pipe dream goal also hinges on the smiles of others--and how absolutely much he hates them. Shigaraki’s goal is total world destruction because he just resents the happiness of others that fucking much.

On the surface alone it’s more fascinating than the story will probably ever live up to: Ochako, the heroine who wants to spread smiles; Shigaraki, the villain who wants to destroy them. Even if we’re just talking canon, zero romance involved, that would still be an interesting conflict to explore. The story could cover a lot of deeper ground by drawing the comparison between these two characters more directly. It would definitely validate Uraraka being involved in more major plot events, at the very least.

BUT this was supposed to be about shipping, so of course I can’t leave it there, and leaving it there would only be half the story anyway, because nobody is born hating smiles. Everything we’ve seen of Shigaraki’s past so far indicates that he was a kid with a cute dog, a warm relationship with his sister, and an interest in heroes--i.e., a decent life that probably included his own fair share of smiles. Shigaraki’s hatred and resentment are direct products of the traumatic manipulation he suffered at AFO’s hands. He despises the idea that people around him can smile and act upbeat, even when they objectively know villains are lurking all around them. He is actually sick to his stomach at the idea of people blindly putting their faith in heroes, knowing what he does: that heroes often fail, that there are many people who desperately need to be rescued and are instead overlooked. The world failed Shimura Tenko and then had the nerve to keep on smiling without him.

Other people’s smiles represent nothing but the joy, security, love, and peace that Shigaraki Tomura hasn’t experienced since the day his quirk manifested. The sight of any living thing fills Shigaraki with rage because everything bright and beautiful, everything good and calm and kind and soft and warm, is everything that Shigaraki has lost and believes he will never, ever get to experience again.

Shigaraki doesn’t really hate the pure happy smiles of others; he hates the fact that the world has taken away every single thing he ever had to smile about.

It is my belief that Horikoshi is hinting at a redemption arc for Shigaraki, especially as we see the League become closer allies. But Shigaraki can’t be completely redeemed, can’t be persuaded to give up his world-destruction plan, until he can look at the smiles of others without scorn. Until the bright, upbeat attitudes of heroes other people no longer feel like a personal attack. Until he’s happy enough that the happiness of others no longer hurts. Until the weight is lifted.

And I can’t think of any character more obviously suited to helping lift an immense weight than Uraraka, the zero gravity hero who wants nothing more than to spread smiles.

8) Speaking of lifting weights... Kacchako is a popular ship stemming in large part from Bakugou’s refusal to treat Uraraka with kid gloves. He faces her head-on as a real opponent and views her like any other hero hopeful.

As I’ve said before, this is pretty much the most respectfully the series itself has ever treated Uraraka Ochako, and it caught a lot of attention because it was one of the rare occasions that a female pro hero-in-training was really treated as an equal to the male characters. Kacchako shippers had something awesome to work with.

But... You know who else treats women as equals? (Hell, you know who treats literally everyone as equals, from those with mutant quirks to trans people to those with severe mental health issues?) You can say what you want about Shigaraki’s habit of, you know, mass murder, but in terms of viewing others equally and respecting (okay, let’s be real, it’s probably closer to just ignoring) differences, Tomura is about as open-minded as BNHA characters come. The League is an equal opportunity employer.

Unlike actual hero characters, Shigaraki has never once suggested that Toga is incapable of keeping up with any of the male members of the League, and in fact has entrusted her with many of the League’s most dangerous and crucial missions. He explicitly has faith in her ability and skill.

Toga’s right there in the fight against Gigantomachia and the QLA, as much an equal member of the League as anyone else. In terms of gender equality, the villains seem to be light-years ahead of their hero counterparts, and Shigaraki in particular doesn’t discriminate, among his allies or his opponents either. He’s not a “spare the women and children” kind of guy; every hero and villain challenger is treated with equal violence (and equal snark), whether they’re male, female, a long-time pro or a student in training.

In whatever context--canon opponent, AU ally, or a future romantic interest--Shigaraki would take Ochako just as seriously as Bakugou did. If you like Kacchako because Bakugou doesn’t dismiss Uraraka, that same dynamic would be present in Shigako too.

9) And on the topic of Shigaraki and women... It doesn’t feel accidental that every single female character who ever had love for Shigaraki has been taken away from him. A distinct part of Shigaraki’s storyline is that all positive female role models have been systematically removed from his life. He lost his grandmother, a hero he could have looked up to; he lost his mother, who he now has no memory of; he lost the older sister he clearly held dear... All For One’s control over Tomura has always been total, but this particular detail feels especially insidious: was All For One’s spite for Nana so strong that he delighted in deliberately destroying every single relationship Tenko had with women connected to Nana’s legacy? (Or is AFO perhaps just a raging misogynist? Every single one of his known associates is male and he seemed to despise and mock Nana particularly hard...)

In any case, the point I’m trying to make here is that, even ruling love interests out, Shigaraki’s storyline would be enriched by forging a meaningful connection with a female character like Ochako. Acceptance--maybe even some grudging admiration--for a female hero? A fantastic opportunity to show just how different the “villains” are from the discriminatory society that produced them. Supporting friendship while he’s on the road to recovery? A+ way to diversify interactions between the male and female cast. Send a tough girl to Tartarus to question his motives? Nice chance for tense dialogue and some good old noire-esque foe yay. Hostage situation that takes a turn for the surprisingly cordial? Fun way to explore different dynamics and humanize the villains because hey, they treated the “damsel” to dinner shortbread cookies. My god, Shigaraki could even develop some positive sense of rivalry with a woman, for example! The possibilities are endless if you’re actually willing to give female characters a shot!

Being more serious, Tomura’s life has been dramatically marked by the loss of his female family members, and--at least from what we know so far--his entire youth was spent without the presence of reliable friendships, let alone any form of “love” that wasn’t disturbingly fake. Beyond his fragmented memories, he has no models for healthy relationships, romantic or otherwise.

Letting Shigaraki develop to the point that he could form a mutually positive relationship with a female hero character would be extremely cathartic for me as a reader. I don’t mean “rewarding redemption with a last-minute happy ending romance”--I mean actually getting the opportunity to watch Tomura rediscover what it means to be genuinely loved and realize he has the capacity to give love and be happy in return...

Reaching that level of mutual support and closeness--especially with a female pro hero--would be the biggest “FUCK YOU” that Shigaraki could give to All For One, short of, you know, actually killing him.

Shigaraki Tomura has a critical (and deliberate) lack of healthy connections to women. BNHA, coincidentally, has a criminally under-utilized female lead just twiddling her thumbs over here, waiting for a meaningful plotline to be thrown her way.

Sure, putting AFO in prison is cool and all, but have you considered... crushing his pride and legacy of evil by helping the boy he tortured for years learn to love again? I’m just sayin’!

Uraraka Ochako, snatching Shigaraki right the fuck out of AFO’s hands:

10) Basically what the whole thing boils down to is this: Shigaraki Tomura needs a hero.

Don’t mistake my meaning. A lot of “girl meets bad boy” plots end up amounting to “girl becomes emotionally responsible for fixing bad boy’s issues,” and that’s not what I’m gunning for--Shigaraki has to redeem himself because redemption is only meaningful when it stems from the character’s own inner desire to change; I’m not quite rose-tinted enough to buy into the Love Redeems trope myself. I’m definitely not advocating anyone dump Shigaraki Tomura as he is now into Uraraka Ochako’s lap and expect her to turn him from a beast to a beauty. It’s not an unrelated woman’s responsibility to fix a broken man.

But! From a reader’s perspective, I think we can agree: Shigaraki’s redemption cannot be complete until he learns to believe in real heroes. He doesn’t have to like them. He doesn’t have to support hero society. But he has to be able to look at real heroes like Izuku and Ochako and admit that they are doing what’s right--that society is a better place because they are here. Shigaraki’s path to recovery can’t even begin until he’s capable of at least acknowledging that the world has things worth saving in it.

If Horikoshi moves forward with a redemption arc for Shigaraki, it will probably be Deku who Detroit Smashes the message of truly noble heroes into Shigaraki’s head. That’s his job as the resident Warrior Therapist, I suppose. But you know... to me, it might be even more meaningful if Shigaraki’s hero--if the hand that reaches out to rescue him--isn’t The Hero’s™ but just a hero’s. We all know Deku is selfless and good to the core. As All Might’s perfect successor, he really has nothing to prove. It’s everyone else who is in question. It’s the whole rest of hero society that owes Shigaraki Tomura an explanation for the suffering of people like the League’s members. It’s everyone else who needs to prove they can do better--that in the future, there will be no bloody children left abandoned in back alleyways.

Uraraka Ochako’s conviction is to save people. As a female hero who hasn’t lived a privileged life, she’s uniquely situated to think about those who are most often overlooked. In a world where violence begets violence, where only those with strength and flash excel, what a powerful message it would send for the terrifying antagonist to effectively be rescued by someone the story itself has called “a frail girl.” At the end of the day, heroics isn’t supposed to be about mountain-destroying explosions and mach punches--heroics is supposed to be about heart, about reaching out a gentle helping hand, about spreading smiles to those who need them most.

Tomura’s faith in heroes has been brutally stripped from him, and every part of his conflict is tied up intimately with his misdirected hatred: it wasn’t actually heroes who isolated and hurt him--it was villains. In order to move forward, he will have to come to that horrible realization, deal with that means for himself and his place in the world, and recognize the truth: there are goodness and good people in the world. Selfless heroes, those who wouldn’t turn their backs on a crying child, do exist. There are people, even now, who would extend a kind hand to Shigaraki Tomura and do their best to bring a real smile to his face. Because that’s what’s really going on, after all.

Shimura Tenko is still waiting to be saved.

And I know just the person to do it.

[clairecrive]

Come back (Part 2)

It has been highly requested and here it is! Buckle up, because this image is very very long.

Tag: @mschellehitt

***

Crap Crap Crap, did I already say crap?

I couldn't imagine a more embarrassing situation.

Maybe he's just arrived and he hasn't heard anything. Yeah, that's possible.

Clinging desperately onto this possibility, I act like nothing compromising has happened and I smile and wave at him like I normally would.

He doesn't react, his face still emotionless while he starts walking towards our table. So I turn back so that I was facing Elijah.

He was the only reason why I wasn't freaking out. With him present, the conversation couldn't turn too personal, right?

But as always, nothing goes like I want and when I turn around, I see that Elijah is about to stand up.

"What are you doing?" I ask worried

"You two need to talk, I'm going to leave you alone." he says and stands up when Klaus is standing beside me

I stand up too, in hope to convince him to stay with a panicked expression but he doesn't budge. Stubborn stubborn man, ugh.

Instead he gives me a big smile and a tight hug to reassure me.

"It's going to be okay, just be honest with him. Don't be afraid." he whispers in my ear before pulling away.

He gives a nod of recognition to Klaus and leaves us alone.

I quickly sit back down, to avoid his eyes. I had already drunk my coffe but I thought that staying in a public place is better for this kind of situation.

He also sits down and doesn't utter a word. I can feel his eyes on me though so, before he could ask anything I break the silence trying to do a little small inoffensive talk.

"It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?"I ask. Lame I know but whatever.

"Indeed it is." he replies

Great intervention, 100 for the effort.

"It's the perfect weather to do an outdoor activity. Do you have anything planned for today?" I dare to ask.

I mean it's still a safe question but only now I realize that his answer could involve his girlfriend.

"It's not exactly an outdoor activity but I was thinking about some truth spilling. What do you think?" he says hinting at my previous conversation with Elijah not so delicately.

"Well, I mean if you have something on your chest then yes, go for it." I cluelessly reply

"I like to believe that I'm always very forward in my relationships. However,there is someone among us that needs to let something off their chest, but it's not me."

Shit, shit shit.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I mutter in a weak and lame attempt to keep up pretenses.

He angrily hits the table startling me and getting the everyone's attention. I should have seen this coming, he has a bit of a temper. Just a little bit.

"Enough with these lies. Since when have you been lying to my face? After everything that we've been through, don't you think I deserve to know the truth?" he asks apparently fed up with my lies

I had hoped to never have this conversation with him because I knew that if had had it, I wouldn't have known what to say.

I know he's hurt by my lies, and that was never my intention. Our relationship has always been based on mutual trust and honesty. So I guess his reaction is not so dramatic after all.

Now I'm faced with a choice, do I tell him the truth consequently putting me on the front line, or do I just dismiss this conversation by leaving?

Would he let me leave though? And more importantly, do I have the strength to get up and leave him here knowing that this is my last chance with him?

The internal battle was pretty clear but as cliché as it sounds, as soon as I looked into his beautiful enticing blue eyes, I knew that I couldn't leave him here or lie to him anymore.

I've already hurt him enough, he deserves an explanation.

I take a deep breath and leaning away from him towards the back of the chair I nod, letting him know that I was going to tell him what he wanted.

After that, a couple of minutes pass in silence, in my vain attempt to find the right words. But I mean, what better words than those who come form the heart?

"Before I say anything, I want you to know that if I didn't tell you anything it's because I thought it was the best thing for you. I haven't exactly been lying to you, but I do have been omitting some things. I don't know how much you've heard before, but I'm going to start from the beginning." I start explaining looking at him

"I think you probably know this, but I don't trust people easily. I'm sure you understand, although it's not for the same reason. When I'm getting to know someone, and we get along well I almost immediately get attached to them. After a while, I saw that this was not good for me seeing as almost everyone I've ever met has screwed me over. So, I guess you could call it a defense mechanism, but now I only let some people in and after a while." I open up to him. My voice was very low but I didn't worry about not being heard for his supernatural hearing and all that.

"I think it's safe to say that you and your family were let in. Pretty much after a day I've met you. And before you ask, no I don't regret it, I do trust you and you all know that. By now, I'm sure you're wondering, so where's the problem?" I rhetorically ask him

His eyes never left mine during this time so I know he was following me. Now shit gets real and I don't have it in me to look at him while I confess this. So I decide to play with the cup of coffee in my hands.

"The thing is, that now we enter in a new field kinda. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've never been in a serious relationship. The only guy I've ever trusted enough to let him completely in (no pun intended) has royally screwed me over and thrown my trust for guys into the bin. Since then, I've never been romantically involved with anyone. And I was fine with it, really. But then you came into my life and everything changed, cliché I know." I pause for a moment because I hear him chuckle and oh boy how I missed that sound.

"Well, almost everything. You see, I'm still scared that things will end on the worst terms and I don't want that. Not with you." At this, I can't help myself but glance at him. His look on me was so intense that I wondered how come I haven't melted yet.

"Yes, I do have feelings for you. Yes, I guess it would make me very happy to be with you. But that's not the point. I realized it too late, I let my fear win and now I've lost you. I didn't want to tell you because it's not fair to you, you've found a beautiful girl that makes you happy. I was too late, end of the story." I finish still not looking at him.

When I do though, his gaze was almost scheming, like he was figuring something out. I look at him in silence, giving him the chance to take all of this in.

After a while, when I was ready to admit defeat and retreat into my house of losers, he smiles leaving me breathless and speechless.

He's always read me like an open book, even better than Elijah, so my bewilderment was pretty evident for him. That's why he let out a little laugh.

He leans towards me and takes my hands off the cup and into his before speaking.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" he asks

"That's beside the point, Klaus. I'm not worried that you'd hurt me, not voluntarily at least" I admit

"Then what are you afraid of?"

"What if you get bored of me? What if you get fed up with me and fall in love with someone else? I mean, you do have eternity after all, so why would you settle with boring plain me?" I explain

"Why wouldn't I?" he smartly asks

"The question is, why would you? I'm sure you can find someone better than me. Maybe you've already found her." I hit at his current girlfriend.

"You know, I think that your fear is not the problem here, rather it's your non-existent self-confidence." Ehm, what?

"You once told me that in order to make another love you, you should love yourself first. But you see, that's not quite right. Yes, you should love yourself but if you don't yet that doesn't mean that no one will too." he says not really waiting for a reply

"I love you, I've loved you since the first time I saw you. It took me a little to figure that out, you know me and my paranoia."

"It's okay to be scared, I am too. I've never done this with anyone either. Didn't you think that I could be afraid of losing you too?" he asks now waiting for me to answer

"No, I didn't." I admit

"I really wish you would have told me all of this earlier, it would have saved us some time." he finally says.

"I know, I'm too late." I say trying to pull my hands away from his. But his grip is strong and prevents me from doing so.

"No, you're not. There's no such thing as 'being too late'. Haven't you heard me before when I told you I love you?" he asks

"So what exactly are you saying?"I timidly ask.

"I'm saying that if you come back to me, I'll come back to you." He says with a smile making my heart flutter

I can't believe this, how I was blessed with this amazing guy still goes over my head.

"And what about your girlfriend? I don't want to be 'the other girl'" I state making him laugh

"There's no girlfriend. She's just a really good friend. You're the only one for me since the moment you walked into my life." he sweetly admits

"Oh please, enough with the cheesiness. You're lucky I love you" I lightheartedly admit. It felt so good to finally admit my feelings out loud, it was so freeing. It was amazing. He was amazing.

He doesn't reply right away, probably enjoying the fact that I had finally said that I loved him too.

"I love you too, Y/N." he says and leans towards me. I also lean towards him to meet him halfway and our lips finally meet in a beautiful kiss full of love and longing.

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Hi everyone!

I'm so happy that you've loved this idea that I've decided to post part 2 as soon as I could

Just joking, but I would like to take to this opportunity not only to thank every single one of my readers but also to let you know that I deeply enjoy writing request. It really makes me feel appreciated as a writer.

So yeah, if you have a request do let me know and if not well just let me know what you think of this imagine.

Byee