#bro watched vision with his eyes closed and his ears plugged

[insomtiny]

hello why am i seeing people acting like dreamcatcher are bubblegum pop now just because they did a few brighter concepts (mostly in merch not even in comebacks???)

[xxoxobree]

I Luv Your Girl

Miles G. x Black Fem Reader.

Summary: Miles Being Mr.Stealyourgirl.

WARNINGS: None 😘

Miles walked into school, his head bobbing to the music that flooded his ears through his headphones. He made his way through the busy halls of Visions toward his locker. He got the occasional "hey" from friends that passed by, and he dapped some of them up.

Finally, he reached his locker, letting out a sigh. He took off his headphones and opened the locker. One by one, he stuffed the books he didn't need into the cramped space, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead.

Just as he was engaged in his task, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Yo, waddup?" Miles turned to his left and saw Ganke walking toward him, leaning nonchalantly on the nearby lockers. A smile spread across Miles' face as he greeted his friend and they went through their intricate handshake.

“Wassup with you bro?”

Laughter erupted from nearby, catching Miles' attention. His eyes followed the sound, and there you were.

Miles felt a weird sensation in his chest as he continued to gaze at you from across the hallway. A feeling he couldn't quite put into words. But before he could fully grasp it, his attention was diverted by the sight of your stupid boyfriend approaching.

His heart sank as he watched your boyfriend plant a peck on your cheek. Miles rolled his eyes,in frustration, as he forcefully slammed his books into his locker, creating a semi-loud band.

"Woah, easy there, Miles," Ganke said, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. Ganke's eyes flickered towards you, a mischievous smirk forming on his face as he realized the source of Miles' agitation. It was no secret that Miles had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Living just a few doors down, you two had always had a friendly but distant relationship, and that fact got on every one Miles' nerves.

"You're mad about Y/n?” Ganke teased, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you just tell her you like her?"

Miles let out a nervous laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. "If you can see, Ganke, she's always with that bozo," Miles replied, frustration lacing his voice, as he pointed towards your boyfriend.

As Miles closed his locker, he glanced back at you and couldn't help but smile and wave. His face lit up when you returned the wave, causing his heart to race even faster.

Your boyfriend noticed the exchange and spun around, giving Miles a mean mug. Unfazed and a little amused by your boyfriend's insecurity, Miles rolled his eyes and headed towards his first period.

Sitting in his first period English class, Miles plugged in his headphones and lost himself in the music. As he mindlessly doodled away in his sketchbook, he finally finished a drawing he had been meaning to complete for a while.

Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see a smiling you. Quickly he took off his headphones before speaking.

“Yeah?” He spoke gently.

“Hey Miles, I really like your bracelet.”

Miles looked down at his wrist, the silver paperclip bracelet shining. He quickly unlatched it.

“Here ma, since you like it so much,” he said, handing it to you.

“Miles, no I can’t,” you said, your face filled with surprise.

“Yes, you can,” he said, grabbing your hand and fastening the bracelet to your wrist.

“There, it looks way better on you, pretty girl,” he said, earning a giggle from you that made his heart swell.

“Thank you, Miles,” you cooed, looking into his eyes.

He nodded before returning back to his drawing.

Miles would sneak glances at you throughout the whole class, watching as you would play, spinning the bracelet around your wrist - his bracelet. He was already distracted, not paying attention to a single thing the teacher was saying, but even more so now with his mind thinking a thousand thoughts of you and him, and what could be.

As classes ended, he walked through the halls, just happening to see you proudly showing off the bracelet to your friends. He laughed at your enthusiasm, secretly thrilled that you appreciated his gift. Little did Miles know his little gift would get him closer to what he wanted - you.

Again, he was lost in his thoughts about you, and how he loved your signature pink hair that you would wear in puffs, or the way you would cutely throw your head forward when you laughed. Miles knew he had to find a way to get closer to you.

But then he remembered your stupid boyfriend, who didn't treat you right, and he felt the sting of jealousy rise up in him. In Miles' mind, he didn't deserve you. He believed that you could do better, that you deserved someone better, like him.

Miles couldn't resist the temptation and found himself developing feelings for someone else's girlfriend. He started seeking you out in any classes you had together. He would strategically take the seat next to you instead of his usual spot, hoping to strike up conversations that went beyond the surface to know you better.

Surprisingly, you were just as interested in him. You started sitting with him at lunch, where the two of you would joke and laugh the entire period. Miles found you just as interesting and sweet as he had imagined, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you with each passing day.

As the connection grew, Miles began to question his own actions. He knew it was wrong to pursue someone who was already taken, and guilt weighed on his conscience but not too much.

As your bond grew stronger, the closeness didn't go unnoticed by everyone and soon whispers filled the school.

You boyfriend sat just a few tables away, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He watched you and Miles, his food barely touched, as you two talked, laughed and exchanged subtle touches. The glimmering bracelet on your wrist caught his attention, and it took him a moment to connect the dots – it was Miles' bracelet.

That realization was the final blow for him. The weight of how close your were crashed on him like a ton of bricks. He stood up, his face flushed with a mix of fury and heartbreak, and made his way towards your table. His presence alone silenced both you and Miles.

"Hey, you two. What are we talking about?" he asked, a forced smile on his face as he attempted to kiss you only for you to dodge it.

Miles looked away, biting his lip to stop a wave of laughter that threatened to escape. He couldn't help but be amused by the scene unfolding before him.

"What do you want?" you whispered to your boyfriend, annoyance evident in your voice.

"Come on babe, let's go to another table," he suggested, attempting to coax you away from your current spot.

"No, I'm sitting with my friend," you replied firmly.

"Come on, y/n, I'm not doing this with you.”

"I'm not doing this with you either," you shot back, standing your ground. "Like I said, I'm sitting with my friend. So you can leave."

"Whatever," he mumbled, frustration etched across his face as he got up and returned to his own table.

"Fuck, wrong with him?" you asked, turning to Miles, who had been silently observing the encounter. Your question sending him over the edge making him fold over with laughter.

"You're his girl, ma, maybe you should go sit with him,".

You shook your head. "Nah, I'm staying,"

Miles furrowed his brows, studying you carefully. "You sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Your gaze met his. "Yes, I'm sure, Miles. Fuck that Nigga.”

Miles but his lip chuckling at you. You were his now.

"Well, if it's fuck him,' kiss me," he whispered, a challenge dancing off his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a small smile adorned your face. Deep down, you knew you wanted it just as much as he did.

"Miles, what?" You replied, curiosity tinged with anticipation.

"You heard me, mami," he said, leaning in closer. "Kiss me right now. In front of everyone. Show him it's 'fuck him.'"

Your eyes flickered between his gaze and his inviting lips. You couldn't resist and started to lean in, your lips crashing together.

The sound of gasps and whispers filled the air as the onlookers turned their attention towards the unexpected kiss. You didn't care; you were too wrapped up in the moment, too wrapped up in Miles.

As you pulled away, laughter bubbled up from within both you and Miles. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there, you two spotted your now ex-boyfriend, fuming with rage.

Miles turned to your boyfriend mischievous yet sympathetic smile on his face. "Sorry, bro, but I love your girl.”

[metaphor-cheese]

Anyway after that convo abt buford protecting baljeet i was reminded of one of the first things i wrote when i got back into pnf

———

Bill glanced around the mall outside wedgies, searching desperately.

“Come on dude, you came unprepared, just admit it.” A bored voice commented next to him. “No nerd, no entry.”

“I can prove myself!” The boy angrily defended, poking the unimpressed bouncer in the chest in an attempt to intimidate him. “Just let me find someone-“

“What do you think’s gonna happen?” Another bully mocked from inside. “A nerd’s just gonna materialise because the almighty william needs one?”

“IT’S BILL!” The boy roared. He didn’t have to put up with this kind of slander! He was top dog at his school back in Seattle.

He turned back to scanning the available area with his eyes as the bouncer turned around and began shutting the doors to the gym. “Come on, come on...” he mumbled to himself, frantically. “I just gotta find one ner-“ his voice cut off in an instant and his eyes bugged out.

There, across the way, a small indian boy was exiting a bookshop. He was dressed in overalls, his arms were piled high with textbooks (despite summer just having started) and he was talking to a boy with a triangle head about what sounded like science.

He had to be the biggest nerd Bill had ever seen.

His mouth twitched into an evil grin.

“Hey!” He called back to the bouncer, just before he closed the door.

“Ugh, what?!” The taller child whined. “Don’t make me hang you from the flagpole, new kid!”

Ignoring the threat, Bill pointed to the boy with a smug grin. “You were saying about how I couldn’t find a nerd?”

Instead of shocked like he’d expected, or horrified and defeated like he’d hoped, the bouncer instead looked serious. “Yeah, man. Not happening. That’s Buford’s nerd.”

Bill scoffed. ‘Buford’s nerd? You couldn’t claim nerds! It was a free country! And even if it wasn’t, Bully Billy took what he wanted.

“I’m serious, bro.” The bouncer stressed, beginning to white knuckle the door handle. The bullies who had gathered around the window to laugh at him being kicked out also looked anxious. “That one’s off limits.”

“We’ll see about that.” With a roll of his eyes, Bill strolled over to the younger kids.

“I cannot believe I got such a discount on these textbooks!” The indian boy was squeaking excitedly as he struggled with his heavy stack. “You do not know what college kids are paying for these nowadays.”

“Hey poindexter!” Billy interrupted, pointing at him. Despite making it clear who he was referring to, the boy and his small entourage still looked around curiously as if it was unclear. “Ugh. Overalls!” The boy shifted his stack of books to balance precariously at his hip and pointed to himself in with a questioning look. “Yes you! Drop the books.” Bill sneered.

With a confused blink, the boy replied simply. “No.”

“What? You’re talkin’ back to me, runt?!”

“Well, yes.” He said matter of factly. He narrowed his eyes. “What reason do i have to listen t-“

Bill didn’t let him finish. He wasn’t about to lallygag around when he had his dominance as a bully to assert. With one swift move, he reached down and yanked the child up by his underpants. The little shrimp let out a high pitched yelp as he did so, and his friends gaped in shock.

“Well...” the boy chuckled, nervously. “That was unpleasant.”

“Put him down!” One of his friends- a girl with a pink ribbon- demanded, angrily.

“Yeah, he didn’t do anything to you!” The triangle-headed nerd from before chimed in. Bill decided to make him his next victim, after he made an example of the kid in his grasp.

“Or else what?” He mocked, beginning to absentmindedly stroke the boys curly hair for a few seconds before harshly yanking with no warning. The three’s glares intensified as their friend yelped in pain again. “Hmm?” Bill continued. “What’re you gonna do? Go cry to mommy?”

“No.” The boy in his grasp said with sudden calmness, catching Bill’s attention. When he looked back at him, he saw the kid had his arms crossed and was shooting him a confident (and slightly condescending) look. “I will do this.” As he finished speaking, the indian boy took a large, dramatic intake of breath. Bill noticed the other kids giving each other similar, knowing looks of confidence as the tall, green-haired one handed out ear plugs to the others. Before he could question what was about to happen, however...

“BUUUUUUUFOOOOOOOOOOOOORD!”

Bill swore his eardrums burst at the sound, and he was honestly surprised the high pitch didn’t make all the glass in the mall shatter. As he stumbled backwards from shock, he barely managed to make out a dark grey shape skid around a nearby corner. A split second after the sound stopped, he noticed the shape was a chubby kid in a black shirt holding a half-eaten soft pretzel.

“What- what’s happ’nin, where’s the fire?!” The kid exclaimed in frantic alarm, hurriedly looking this way and that. When his eyes settled on Bill and the boy he was holding, however, it instantly steeled into something murderous.

The whole area seemed to go quiet as, who he presumed was, ‘Buford’ slowly stomped his way over to Bill and the overalls kid. Despite his young age and stout physique, even grown adults around Bill covered their mouths in silent horror and hid behind display signs as he passed.

Once he got in front of the two of them, the boy in Bill’s clutches brightened up. “Buford!” He greeted, happily- but the other ignored him.

“Drop the nerd.” Was all he said to him, raspy voice going as deep as an 11 year olds could. When Bill paused, he pointed to the ground and screamed “NOW!”

Bill glanced around him at the terror on everyone’s faces. At the quivering salespeople and the cowering bullies behind wedgies big fancy windows. He raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the horrified masses and the slightly-larger-than-average preteen in front of him.

With a quiet scoff, he rolled his eyes. Clearly becoming top dog in this town was gonna be easy.

Giving the kid a smug look, he asked “Or else what, shorty?”

One moment he was looking down into a pale, chubby kid’s furious gaze. The next, his vision was fuzzy black and stars as his back hit the ground. A tight pain erupted from his stomach a moment later, and he rolled over and began wheezing as he huddled in the foetal position.

-

Baljeet shrieked only for a split second as he fell, before he landed in a familiar palm with an underwhelming ‘plop’. He glanced at the person holding him up and smiled. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Y’welcome, ‘Jeet.” Buford said casually as he lowered his arm so his friend could hop off his hand.

Phineas, Ferb and Isabella wandered over to the two of them to look upon the devastated boy.

“Wow.” Phineas said simply, noticing that the older kid still hadn’t stopped wheezing. “That was some sucker punch.”

“You’ve learnt well.” Isabella praised, patting him on the arm. Ferb nodded.

Unable to not brag at least a little, Buford leant back and pretended to inspect his nails. “Yeah. It was a pretty good hit, wasn’t it?”

“Though I certainly hope you did not do any lasting damage...” Baljeet fretted, looking with concern at how long it was taking the bully to recover.

As if in response to his pity, the kid struggled to his feet. “That was a cheap shot.” He spat, cheeks red with embarrassment. He brushed himself off and pointed intimidatingly at Buford. “Let’s settle this the real-“

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up.” Buford calmly said, waving his hands in a ‘stop’ gesture as he walked up to him. If only from confusion, Bill did quiet, letting him get close. “Do you really wanna do that?” Buford asked. Bill glared at him.

“Yes.” He said seriously.

He vaguely registered a series of shocked gasps from all around him.

Buford looked surprised for a moment, before shrugging. “Alright.”

Just like before, it all happened so quickly.

One moment Bill had his feet planted firmly on the ground. The next, he was being yanked into the air by his shirt (how was that even possible when this kid was smaller than him?!) and then the next, landing roughly into something hard just as he tried to fight back. It took him a moment to regain his bearings, but when he did, he tried to clamber out of the tiny bin- only to see Buford’s face blocking his view of the light.

“Listen up here, dillweed, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.” Buford snarled. “This is MY turf. Those,” he pointed to the rest of the kids. “are MY friends.” Leaning in close, and lowering his scratchy voice again, the kid growled. “And if you wanna survive in this town another day, you’ll leave us the hell alone and never touch one’ ‘em again.” With a harsh poke in the chest, he added “Got that?”

Before Bill could even consider responding, Buford continued. “Good. Sayonara.” Something harsh hit the side of the bin and then bill was rolling, rolling, rolling until-

-

“AAAAAHHHHHH!”

The five kids gathered around the escalator to watch the bin speed down it and then straight out the front door, all to the tune of the bully’s screams.

“Goodbye!” Baljeet called after him, with a satisfied giggle.

“Yup.” Buford added.

For a few moments, they watching in silence.

“...Man, he’s really going far.” Isabella commented.

“I’ll say.” Phineas added. “Hey Ferb, pass me those binoculars.” The green haired boy did just that and his step-brother laughed good-naturally at whatever he saw through them.

“Hey, cool, he made it to the skatepark!”

“Ooo, let me see!” Baljeet cheered, reaching for them.

Buford looked on with a fond smile at his friends laughing over the view. When his ear twitched at the sound of a solitary ‘aww’, however, he turned and glared at the cause. The instigator- a teenage girl- proved not to be the only one staring at him, as huge swabs of the mall were still warily watching him. One quick glare in each direction quickly solved that problem, however, and Buford nodded to himself in satisfaction.

“Alright, this is gettin’ old.” He interrupted Isabella and Baljeet’s arguing by physically easing himself between them. “Who wants corndogs?” He offered.

Instantly, Ferb’s hand went up, and Phineas and Isabella responded rather quickly with ‘me!’s. He nodded and turned to lead the way.

“Were you not just at the food court?” Baljeet commented, wryly, as he followed.

“Hey, I didn’t get to finish my pretzel!” Buford defended.

And thus the group of kids’ normal banter started up again, and the regular background noise of the mall resumed.

-

Meanwhile, across town, a dazed pharmacist rolling down the skating rink strapped to a buggy passed a child in a bin rolling the other way.

“You too, huh?”

[fictionalsadist]

Redoing this post without the cut line because I can’t figure out how to get rid of it on the original. based of this prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers

Kaiba bros from Yugioh with the tiniest dash of implied Prideshipping. Hope you all enjoy.

The faint sounds of muffled celebration could be heard through the walls, the sounds echoing through the lonely halls of the mansion even with the great distance between them. Despite the noise and just how many of them were gathered here, Mokuba knew he had little to worry about. They were a cocky bunch, assured of their own victory, and all very very drunk, he had checked.

As Mokuba finally arrived in the hall he had been searching for, he took a moment to rest against the wall, the weak irregular pounding of his heart sounding in his head as he dragged in shaky rasping breaths. Far too long Mokuba had been forced to sit aside and watch his “family” do unspeakable things in the name of “God”, too weak to take an active roll in stopping them. He had done little things to sabotage them, not that they knew, but there was so little he could do when he weren’t even strong enough to leave the house.

After what they had done this week however, Mokuba could no longer stand aside. They had always been vicious and cruel, using God as an excuse to do unspeakable evils. Their most recent hunt, had led them to capturing a family of peace loving vampires, two parents with three half vampire children. They intended to bind the parents and children, and force them to watch each other burn for their “sins”, the sin of existing.

It was the final straw for him, hearing how gleeful they were over something so deranged. So here he were, pushing his fragile body to a point you knew he wouldn’t be able to return from.

Shakily, Mokuba pushed yourself upright again, feeling some of the pain in his chest fade slightly. With trembling hands, he carefully opened up the secret door to the cells below, and made his way down the dark stairs. There were others that his family had caught, two werewolves, a witch, and one other vampire, who had been here even longer, your family having captured them a few weeks back.

He had been too powerful to be executed in the way they wanted to immediately, and so he had remained down here, being fed only enough to keep him alive, or in the vampires cases, not at all. Mokuba had always done what he could for those locked away down here, but this time he had gotten help. Two of the kitchen maids had ended up being witches, having gotten jobs here simply to help the other witch escape.

Mokuba had discovered what they were instantly, having always had a strange ability to feel a beings true nature, and approached them carefully. They had been wary at first, but soon began helping him. With their help, he had managed to bring food down to the prisoners once a day while his family were otherwise indisposed. Though they had no human blood to offer, (his body far too weak to be of use and the witches outright refusing for reasons of their own) they had managed to keep the vampires fed and strong with pigs blood, in preparation for their escape.

The witch, Ishizu, had warmed up to him first, having trusted Mokuba the moment he passed along the message from the other two. After her, the werewolves (Tristan and Otogi) had slowly come around, able to scent his lack of deceit when he answered their questions. Even the family of vampires had warmed up to Mokuba quickly when he had gently calmed and soothed their children, the family having separated the little kids from the parents, just to fulfil their own amusement at their suffering.

The only one who Mokuba was unsure of, was the lone vampire. He had been there the longest, and you still remembered the loud celebration they’d had after they had finally captured him, as well as the casualties. He was their biggest catch, and his power was why they were so wary with him, wanting him as weak as possible before they tried to officially kill the creature.

He was definitely an intimidating image, one glance from him enough to have anyone fearing for their life. You could tell that he was on an entirely different level to anything the family had ever dealt with before, and something told Mokuba that it would take very little for him to break out. For some reason though, he remained.

Unlike the others, the vampire had never spoken a word to him, watching him silently and intently with his blue hellfire gaze. Despite his silence, he had never made a move to harm Mokuba, remaining perfectly still whenever he arrived, his gaze following him like a physical touch until he had once more left, often with a light flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with his weakened state.

Shaking away his thoughts, Mokuba stepped into the room, smiling weakly at the children as they perked up at the sight of him. Seeing the keys in his hand, the rest of them perked up as well. Carefully, Mokuba went to the children first, unlocking the cell door and then carefully unbinding each of them, frowning at the sight of the burns around their tiny ankles. Next came the parents, who instantly gathered their children close once they were free.

Silently, he let them have their moment, knowing they needed to calm their children and themselves if they were going to escape properly. Soon enough he had the witch released, who thanked him before heading to the far wall that he had pointed out. The two werewolves practically tackled each other once they were free, nuzzling each others necks as they cried, soothing their inner wolf with the knowledge that they were no longer separated from their mate.

Suddenly, pain flared in Mokuba’s chest, and he subtly leaned against one of the cells, trying to ride out the wave of agony that overtook him. Once it had calmed enough, Mokuba opened his eyes and looked up, freezing as he found himself meeting the knowing gaze of the one vampire he had yet to free. In that moment, Mokuba could tell that he knew.

He was dying.

Pressing his lips in a firm line, Mokuba shakily straightened himself , determinedly making his way over to the final cell. He had known what would happen if he continued to push himself when he’d first started this, had known just how close he was to pushing too far. It was unlikely he would live to see the morning, but Mokuba couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it, not when his death would undo at least one of the families many many wrongs.

As the lock on the cell door finally clicked open, Mokuba looked up, not entirely surprised to see the vampire standing directly before it, free of his bindings as if they had been nothing but a mild inconvenience. Eyes locked with his, Mokuba pushed the door open for him and stepped shakily to the side. Behind him , he could hear the quiet sounds of the wall crumbling away at the hands of the three witches, the three of them quickly hugging as they were finally reunited, before beginning to guide the others to freedom using the path you had taught them about.

“Go… “ Mokuba whispered, unsure why he lingered.

The tall brunette vampire knelt down next to him. He stared deep into Mokuba’s eyes. “Go! You don’t want them to find-” Seto sswore softly and sliced his wrist open. Mokuba watched in a panic as the vampire brought the bleeding wound to his lips. Mokuba pushed it away “I don- wanna be a vampire…” he protested weakly.

“You already are. You’re a halfling like me. I should have known that they weren’t feeding you. I know the blood of our own kind isn’t great but it will keep you alive long enough for me to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere we can have you feed properly.” Seto pleaded. “Come on Mokie. Drink…for me…”

Something about the strange nickname echoed inside him as the vampire strode forward. Making him recall a soft smile, warmth and safety. Something that Mokuba never felt with the Schrodinger Hunter Clan.

“Drink.”

It was too soft to be a command Mokuba realized. It was almost as though Seto were begging him.

The nickname and the look of desperation in the normally stoic vampires eyes made Mokuba drop his hands and drink from Seto’s open wrist. The liquid acting like a key to the door of his own locked memories.

He was Mokuba Kaiba. He had been taken away from his elder brother by the Schroeder’s who had though they were “saving” a human child. Except he was a half vampire and with out regular blood he would have died soon enough.Mokuba fed until Seto took his wrist away and tucked him back to his chest. “There. Now let’s get out of here before those morons realize we’re gone.”

Seto scooped his little brother up into his arms and Mokuba found himself clinging to Seto’s shirt as they hit the night air outside of the crumbled wall. “I refuse to leave you behind again Mokie.”

Mokuba happily fell asleep against his brothers chest

“What the hell were you thinking?!” yelled a voice from outside the room. “You went off half cocked without a plan and no back up-”

Mokuba jerked away and found himself woke up in a large bed. Big enough for like 4 full grown adults to sprawl in without touching one another. He was warm and wrapped in blankets with an IV hooked into his arm giving him a steady infusion of blood. Mokuba looked around the room he was in, which could have fit three of the his bedroom back at the Schroeder’s. On the small bedside table sat a plush stuffed silvery white dragon with angry blue eyes. He reached out to stroke it’s soft fuzzy head

Seto’s voice drew him back to the conversation outside of his room. “Come off it Yami! Don’t pretend that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if it were Yugi or Atem-”

“At least I have a bond so at least someone would know where I went!” Yami’s voice snapped.

Mokuba couldn’t see either of them. The door was far enough away that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them word for word. But it was like he’s been wearing glasses that dimmed his vision and ear plugs for years. Now everything was sharper and even the dim lighting of the room was bright enough that he could see every detail of the ornate furniture.

“You should have at least left a note or something!” Yami shouted at Seto “You got your answer from Gozaburo and ran off! He was dead before anyone else found him! What if you had died Seto?!”

“Like they could have-”

“That is not the point Seto! What if you had? You and I both know that hunters have access to things that could kill even you. If they had killed you, darkness forbid, no one would have been able to find Mokuba. No one else could have saved him. Pretty stupid move for the Head Strategist! What did you expect me-the kingdom to do with you gone….” at the correction Yami’s voice softened, almost defeated.

Mokuba wondered for a moment what kind of relationship they had.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Next time I’ll leave a note.” Seto said in a teasing tone.

“You had better because next time you pull a stunt like this I will lock you up.” Yami told him.

“I would love to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Yami chided.

There was something in Yami’s voice that Mokuba couldn’t quite place. He didn’t get long to think about it because someone knocked on the door. Out of habit Mokuba hastily laid back down and closed his eyes to feign sleep. He heard the door open and footsteps approach his bed. Mokuba opened his eye to just thin slits so he could watch Seto replace the blood bag. Then he sat down on the bed and brushed the hair out of Mokuba’s face.

“How are you feeling” Seto told him gently calling his bluff. Mokuba opened his eyes the rest of the way.

“I’m kind of tired. But I feel better than I have in a long time.” Mokuba told his brother opening his eyes. “Who was that?”  he asked referring to the stranger.

“Oh. That was just Yami. He came over to put his two cents in one my actions.” Seto told him.

“He sounded worried.”

“Yeah. Well being the brother to the King make you do that.” Seto answered frowning.

“But-”

“Hush.” Seto chided “You should be sleeping. My room is just down the hall if you need-”

“Seto?”

“Yes?”

“Stay with me?” Mokuba asked. Seto smiled down at him in a soft fond way that Mokuba had the feeling only he would ever get to see. Seto pulled off his boots and curled up behind Mokuba on the bed. He snagged the little dragon and handed it to Mokuba, wrapping his arms around the pair of them.

“Welcome home little brother.” Seto whispered to him softly.

[dreamykrimi]

Sweater Weather: Yuletide

Hello and Merry Christmas everyone! I’m so sincerely sorry that I don’t have the full fic for this ready in time for the holiday, but I’ll have it up as soon as I can. Here is a teaser, as apology and as a pick me up in celebration of Christmas. Hopefully you guys are still with me, here! 

A little background: this fic does not directly follow Cider Sweet. There is a fic in between tentatively titled To Be Okay (subject to change, because I’m fickle that way), that will deal with the aftermath of Shouto training with Endeavor, and that one is still in progress. I’ll be posting Yuletide in it’s completion before that one comes out, but I’ll reorder the series so that To Be Okay comes first. Until then, I hope you enjoy this!

There’s a muted quality that comes with the powdered layer of snow covering the ground. Everything is muffled and awash in pristine white. Shouto watches a pair of rabbits bound through the snow drifts, barely distinguishable in their winter coats, and considers calling Izuku over to see his friends.

Izuku stands near Asui a few yards away, both bundled up tightly in the most hideous sweaters he’s ever seen with scarves pulled up over their faces. It seems that Asui is also weak to the cold, and the two of them have decided to stick close. For the past ten minutes he’s been thinking of going over and offering himself up as human heater for the two of them, but if he leaves now Yaoyorozu will frown at him in that way that's meant to look disapproving but really just looks sad.

“A little higher please, Todoroki!” she pipes from the other side of the tree.

Shouto sighs, his breath a thick fog around him as he lifts the string of lights above his head for Yaoyorozu to grab. She teeters precariously from her perch on Kirishima’s shoulders, but Kirishima steadies her with a firm grip on her knees. Snow crunches under his boots and he kicks aside a chunk of ice as he circles the tree with them.

In the courtyard outside of the dorm and directly in the line of sight of the largest window in the common area, there is now an enormous pine tree, courtesy of one of the 1 B students with a plant based quirk. Class 1 A had been tasked with decorating it by some kid called Monoma, who had insisted that his class had done the truly difficult part and so it was only fair that- Shouto’s getting a headache just thinking about it.

He wonders again why they couldn’t have left this part to Shouji and Satou, easily the tallest of their classmates, but they had already been put to the task of baking sweets for the class. And besides that, Kirishima had jumped at the opportunity.

“We’re the Christmas tree appreciation club, bro! Our time has come!” he’d said.

Shouto just wants to go and hold his boyfriend’s hand already.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word bounces around his head and his stomach flips. Even a month later and it hasn’t worn off in the slightest; it still makes his heart skip with nervous energy and affection.

He looks again to where Izuku is, now with Uraraka pulling his hat down further over his ears and rubbing up and down Asui’s arms. Uraraka must have been kicked out of the kitchen, probably for rough housing with Bakugou if the batter clinging to her hair is anything to go by. Why are his closest friends the most ridiculous people he’s ever met? he thinks, with probably too much fondness. Asui seems happier for her presence, though. Barely peeking up over her scarf, he can see the girl’s cheeks flush more than the cold would account for as her eyes crinkle sweetly.

His eyes slide over to Izuku again, his own freckled cheeks pink in the chill. Shouto feels his heart speed up a beat. They are still painfully slow at everything, but since the snow set in they’ve both become much less shy about touching. It’s still hit or miss when their friends are around to see, but Izuku’s aversion to cold weather has driven him to curling into Shouto’s left side at every opportunity. It always takes him by surprise, how powerful the urge is to wrap his boyfriend up in warmth at the first sign of cold. He thinks he's in danger of becoming a doting partner. Izuku’s hands are always cold, no matter what he was doing before Shouto warms them, and it would worry him, it does worry him, except that means that Izuku seeks him out and puts those cold hands in Shouto’s pockets.

Izuku laughs at something Asui says, but his laughter breaks off as he shivers.

He could fix that right now, if he weren’t figuratively and literally tied to this ridiculously huge tree in the courtyard. The strings of lights not in his hands loop loosely around his shoulders and even down his leg, and while he had allowed it as a way to keep them from getting tangled, he may have underestimated the dual purpose of it. Now he can’t escape.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to test the next string. Ready Kami?”

Shouto pulls a face and squints in preparation.

Kaminari laughs at him and touches the end of one plug to his tongue, and Shouto is awash in light, every bulb around him glowing bright and blinding and goddamnit why is this tree so fucking big that it needs twelve strings of lights.

He hears more than sees Jirou slap Kaminari hard on the back of the head until he spits the plug out into the snow.

“Gross, Kaminari! Do you have to put it in your mouth?”

“Tastes good!” he defends, but it only earns him another shove.

Shouto blinks the spots from his vision now that the lights have gone dark around him. Jirou’s sweater is probably the least ugly of the bunch, especially next to the yellow tinsel disaster Kaminari wears. It’s a simple blue with a star of David made of silver glitter on the front and some kind of punk rock shoulder spikes that look horribly out of place. Still, it has nothing on the sweater he’d seen Sero wearing, the same blue but with a menorah hooked up with actual blinking lights poking through the fabric and bedazzled words loudly proclaiming “Lit.”

Shouto has a brief moment of wishful thinking for calm, tame, blue, even if it meant he had to wear flashing lights. Anything, really, anything but this god awful red and white striped monstrosity. It’s not even a little soft, and it’s been getting glitter on everything he touches since he’d been wrestled into it.

“I’m not even religious,” he’d complained under his breath when Uraraka had shoved it at him weeks ago.

“It’s a candy cane! Candy canes aren’t religious, they’re just delicious! I’m sure Deku would agree it’s fitting!”

He’s going to have to start building up an immunity to statements like that, or else Uraraka will soon have him doing her bidding at every turn. As though sensing his thoughts on her, Uraraka turns and flashes him a thumbs up, her own bedazzled sweater twinkling with every move. Shouto tries to show the full spectrum of his distaste in the small moment of contact before Izuku steals his attention.

It’s really not fair. The theme was ugly holiday sweaters, but Izuku just looks unfairly adorable. Even with layers and layers of shirts below it making him puffy and lumpy, the green blob his boyfriend makes in the snow makes him feel floaty and warm. He looks like a Christmas tree, green hair, green eyes, green sweater with every square inch covered in tinsel, glued on pom poms, or lights. It’s a mess, and it looks itchy as all hell, but Shouto wants to touch it anyway. Izuku gives him a shy wave with his mittens.

“Hey, peppermint prince! Can you stop ogling your boyfriend for a hot second? We need you over here,” Kirishima says as he makes his way around the tree, Yaomomo still balanced precariously on his shoulders. Shouto sighs steam and goes to follow, but Kaminari chooses that moment to grab up the plug again and too late, he feels the string of lights tighten around his leg.

His momentum carries him forward and he wobbles before careening downwards. Kirishima shoots a hand out to steady him, but he can’t support both him and Yaomomo, and so the three of them tumble in a heap into the thick blanket of snow at their feet. The crunch of snow beneath his cheek is a bitingly cold insult.

Shouto growls and grumbles but Kirishima’s laughter overwhelms the sound, and Yaomomo isn’t far behind. He sits up slowly, grumpy at the cold wet spots on his knees, and starts to detangle himself from the lights. Kirishima’s rough hand pats snow off of his back and Shouto returns the favor without much thought, tugging him back when Kirishima tries to get up before the largest clump is free of his spiked hair. Jirou is kneeling in the snow next to Yaomomo, and they’re grinning at each other.

Without meaning to, Shouto turns his head to find Izuku again, only to come nose to nose with the boy.

“Sorry Shouto,” he whispers for only him to hear. “I should have caught you.”

The cold feels very far away all of a sudden.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shouto mumbles with warm cheeks. Next to him, Kirishima rolls away and goes to rub his knuckles over Kaminari’s head for his recklessness.

Nimble fingers pull away at the last of the lights trapping him leg, and Izuku gives him a shy smile with slightly blue lips and Shouto is taken by the image of leaning forward and kissing them until they’re pink again and god sometimes he forgets just how very, very gay he is for freckles and curly hair and everything Izuku. The ugliest sweater in the world couldn’t keep his heart from racing in his chest when Izuku looks at him like that.

The moment comes to an abrupt halt when a snowball smacks Shouto directly in the face.

“S-sorry Todoroki! I was aiming for-”

Kaminari’s words are cut off with a choke as Izuku hurls a snowball almost dead on into the boy’s mouth.

“Ack! Brain freeze!”

Izuku makes a sinfully devious face of triumph that lasts exactly as long as it takes for Uraraka to toss one at the back of his head.

“Ah! Cold! Cold cold cold!” Izuku scrambles to rub at his neck, shivering violently when a chunk falls down the back of his sweater. Shouto chokes and Izuku turns to him with exaggerated betrayal. “Don’t laugh at me! I just defended your honor!”

“Aww Deku, you’re like his knight in shining armor!” Uraraka says whilst rolling another snowball.

Izuku goes very red, sputtering and waving his hands in denial and Shouto goes ahead and slaps the snowball out of the air before Uraraka can nail his boyfriend with snow again.

“Oi, timeout, we have to finish this before it gets too dark!”

“Can we please not be sitting in the snow now?” Jirou snarks, and Yaoyorozu lifts her easily to her feet.

Izuku gulps and nods vigorously, and they help each other to stand. Shouto warms his left hand and lets it sit on the back of Izuku’s neck for a moment, and the boy leans into him.

With their clothes just damp enough to let the cold in, they’re a little more careless about where they hang the lights, eager to go inside where the rest of the class is waiting with food and hot drinks. That’s not to say that there aren’t several more sneak attacks in the time it takes to finish, and Shouto is watching Izuku’s blue lips with increasing frequency.

Finally, Kaminari hooks up the extension cord, which is really three cords plus one extra long cord made by Yaomomo, and the tree lights up, a little lopsided perhaps, but it looks fine to him. He likes the way the colored lights look on the snow, how it sparkles, and how it bounces off of everything until the courtyard is bright enough for him to count the freckles on Izuku’s nose. His boyfriend is grinning excitedly next to him, and Shouto decides that it was worth it. He also decides that Christmas lights reflected in wide green eyes is one of his favorite things.

When they’re finally filing into the dorms they’re all just a little bit colder than they want to be, but the mood is light. It’s hard to be surly when every inch of the dorm building is decked in holiday decorations. It’s all a little over the top for him, but he appreciates how everyone’s smiles become a little bit brighter at the sight of colored ribbons and wreaths and hanging ornaments. His attention, however, sticks on Asui and Izuku, who are especially shivering.

Uraraka takes Asui’s hand and pulls her toward the kitchen where Satou is handing out hot cocoa, so that takes care of one of them. They fall to the back of the group and Shouto takes advantage of a brief moment out of sight to hold his hand out to Izuku. The boy looks up and gives him a grateful grin as he holds Shouto’s left hand in both of his. 

“Your lips are blue,” Shouto murmurs, not really sure what he’s offering, but offering just the same. Izuku looks shy when he presses cool lips to the back of Shouto’s warm hand, holds it there for a moment. Shouto’s spine tingles and he tries very hard not to let his hand over heat. 

As soon as Izuku moves to release him, Shouto brings Izuku’s hands up to his mouth and blows warm air over them until Izuku lets out a happy hum. Shouto leaves a warm kiss along his knuckles before he lets go.

Izuku giggles nervously and holds the hand to his chest.

“Hey lovebirds, better watch out for mistletoe!” Kirishima says over his shoulder as they enter the common room, which, now that he looks, is a veritable minefield of holly and mistletoe hung together indiscriminately. He resolves to stay out from under the doorways.

“You too, Kirishima-kun! Ashido-san was talking about trapping you and Kaachan tonight,” Izuku says and pokes at the center of Kirishima’s back, between two of the glittery poinsettia pinned to his red sweater.

“Oh, that’d go well.” He rolls his eyes.

Shouto says nothing, but Izuku laughs at the quirk of his eyebrows.

Satou comes through carrying a large tray of desserts, Shouji not far behind, each of his extra arms balancing a tray or basket. Suddenly it makes sense why Satou would ask for Shouji's help; he must be able to stir three things at once, and still have an arm to spare.  

As they settle in among their other classmates, Izuku excuses himself and hastily pulls Iida into a rapid fire conversation. Shouto lets him go knowing that he’ll make his way back eventually, and fills a plate with as many sweets as he deems polite, maybe a few more than is polite if he’s being honest, before retreating the the edge of the common space. He lets himself relax against a wall as he munches, and soon finds himself joined by Tokoyami. His sweater is dark and at first glance it seems non denominational, but looking closer it does have the word Yule across the shoulders and a star on the front. Or is it a pentagram?

Somehow it seems rude to ask.

They both seem to enjoy the bustle best at a slight distance, and the calm between them makes it easy to pick up the conversations going on around them- a guilty pleasure he knows Tokoyami shares from their occasional time in the library. At the snack table, Uraraka begrudgingly admits that Satou’s sugar cookies are just as good as hers, and Asui helps herself to some kind of treat that looks a little like a fried pancake with candied nuts. Shouto looks down at his own plate to study an identical one.

“They’re latkes,” Tokoyami says next to him.

Shouto makes a noise to acknowledge him and bites into it.

“Holy fuck,” he says softly.

If it was Izuku standing next to him, he might moan at the taste. But it’s Tokoyami, so he only nods appreciatively.

The room is steadily filling with students, baked goods, and uglier and uglier sweaters. It’s as though the entire student body had set out to find the greatest contrast to the glittering decorations covering every inch of the common area. Music fills the space between conversations and Shouto settles his back against the wall and chews on a sugar cookie shaped and iced to look like a candy cane. He frowns when he sees how well it matches his sweater and drops it back on his plate, picking up a jelly filled donut instead.

Bakugou enters the room like he owns it, as per usual, and without thought Shouto seeks out Izuku with his eyes. He’s a fair distance away and preoccupied with Iida near the (smaller, better decorated) christmas tree, and he lets him be. Instead he shifts his gaze to track Bakugou’s movement towards where Kaminari is mercilessly ribbing Kirishima for his flower covered sweater.

“Hey, ugly it may be but this baby got me a phone number!” Kirishima proudly holds out a slightly crumpled napkin, black numbers scrawled in bubbly handwriting.

“Whaaaha who gave you a number when you’re dressed like my granny’s garden?!”

“The girl behind the counter at the coffee shop on fourth!” He beams.

“This should be interesting,” Tokoyami mutters next to him. They both watch Bakugou’s approach, out of Kirishima’s and Kaminari’s line of sight as they bicker.

“Dude, you should give it to me!”

“What? No way!”

“Come on, you’re in love with Bakugou anyway!”

Tokoyami makes a sound like cooing laughter and Shouto hits the panic button in his mind.

“Shh! What the hell is wrong with you?” Kirishima hisses.

The human equivalent of sticking a fork in a toaster seems unrepentant, but then, he’s also blissfully unaware of the looming danger.

If he lights himself on fire right now, he could set off the fire alarm. It would ruin the holiday party, but his best friend would be alive and decidedly unexploded. Shouto watches carefully, ready to do just that, but Bakugou’s face doesn’t look any more murderous than usual. In fact it’s almost blank as he comes up right behind Kirishima and Kaminari, who are grappling over the napkin with the phone number written on it.

Uraraka, two feet away and chatting enthusiastically with Tsuyu pauses mid sentence, taking a little gasp of air as she closes her eyes. Without breaking stride Bakugou snatches the napkin from Kirishima’s outstretched hand and shoves it under Uraraka’s nose right in time to catch her sneeze.

“Achoo! Whew. Thanks, Bakugou!”

“Cover your diseased mouth,” he grunts, but there’s something horribly satisfied in the expression he wears as Kirishima and Kaminari both moan dramatically.

“That's so not manly,” Kirishima whines.

Shouto and Tokoyami are both speechless as Bakugou continues on like nothing has changed. That is to say, with violent enthusiasm and a hostile humor. Kirishima seems unaware that he must have been in hearing range for Kaminari’s slip, and Bakugou… Bakugou has the two of them in matching headlocks, shouting about one thing or another. Kirishima is laughing brightly in his hold and Shouto sags against the wall as the crisis is- probably?- averted.

Shouto wonders if Bakugou is holding onto Kirishima a bit tighter than usual, he holds him longer than he does Kaminari, roughing up his hair until it falls around his face and the boy groans in protest. Is that Bakugou’s version of a lingering touch?

“What must he be thinking, to overhear such an ill fated confession?” Tokoyami muses.

Shouto shakes his head. He’s closely tied to not one but two people with strong connections to this ticking time bomb of angst, but he can honestly say, “I have no idea what goes on inside of Bakugou’s head.”

[fictionalsadist]

based off this prompt by @write-it-motherfuckers. 

Kaiba bros from Yugioh with the tiniest dash of implied Prideshipping. Hope you all enjoy. 

The faint sounds of muffled celebration could be heard through the walls, the sounds echoing through the lonely halls of the mansion even with the great distance between them. Despite the noise and just how many of them were gathered here, Mokuba knew he had little to worry about. They were a cocky bunch, assured of their own victory, and all very very drunk, he had checked.

As Mokuba finally arrived in the hall he had been searching for, he took a moment to rest against the wall, the weak irregular pounding of his heart sounding in his head as he dragged in shaky rasping breaths. Far too long Mokuba had been forced to sit aside and watch his “family” do unspeakable things in the name of “God”, too weak to take an active roll in stopping them. He had done little things to sabotage them, not that they knew, but there was so little he could do when he weren’t even strong enough to leave the house.

After what they had done this week however, Mokuba could no longer stand aside. They had always been vicious and cruel, using God as an excuse to do unspeakable evils. Their most recent hunt, had led them to capturing a family of peace loving vampires, two parents with three half vampire children. They intended to bind the parents and children, and force them to watch each other burn for their “sins”, the sin of existing.

It was the final straw for him, hearing how gleeful they were over something so deranged. So here he were, pushing his fragile body to a point you knew he wouldn’t be able to return from.

Shakily, Mokuba pushed yourself upright again, feeling some of the pain in his chest fade slightly. With trembling hands, he carefully opened up the secret door to the cells below, and made his way down the dark stairs. There were others that his family had caught, two werewolves, a witch, and one other vampire, who had been here even longer, your family having captured them a few weeks back.

He had been too powerful to be executed in the way they wanted to immediately, and so he had remained down here, being fed only enough to keep him alive, or in the vampires cases, not at all. Mokuba had always done what he could for those locked away down here, but this time he had gotten help. Two of the kitchen maids had ended up being witches, having gotten jobs here simply to help the other witch escape.

Mokuba had discovered what they were instantly, having always had a strange ability to feel a beings true nature, and approached them carefully. They had been wary at first, but soon began helping him. With their help, he had managed to bring food down to the prisoners once a day while his family were otherwise indisposed. Though they had no human blood to offer, (his body far too weak to be of use and the witches outright refusing for reasons of their own) they had managed to keep the vampires fed and strong with pigs blood, in preparation for their escape.

The witch, Ishizu, had warmed up to him first, having trusted Mokuba the moment he passed along the message from the other two. After her, the werewolves (Tristan and Otogi) had slowly come around, able to scent his lack of deceit when he answered their questions. Even the family of vampires had warmed up to Mokuba quickly when he had gently calmed and soothed their children, the family having separated the little kids from the parents, just to fulfil their own amusement at their suffering.

The only one who Mokuba was unsure of, was the lone vampire. He had been there the longest, and you still remembered the loud celebration they’d had after they had finally captured him, as well as the casualties. He was their biggest catch, and his power was why they were so wary with him, wanting him as weak as possible before they tried to officially kill the creature.

He was definitely an intimidating image, one glance from him enough to have anyone fearing for their life. You could tell that he was on an entirely different level to anything the family had ever dealt with before, and something told Mokuba that it would take very little for him to break out. For some reason though, he remained.

Unlike the others, the vampire had never spoken a word to him, watching him silently and intently with his blue hellfire gaze. Despite his silence, he had never made a move to harm Mokuba, remaining perfectly still whenever he arrived, his gaze following him like a physical touch until he had once more left, often with a light flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with his weakened state.

Shaking away his thoughts, Mokuba stepped into the room, smiling weakly at the children as they perked up at the sight of him. Seeing the keys in his hand, the rest of them perked up as well. Carefully, Mokuba went to the children first, unlocking the cell door and then carefully unbinding each of them, frowning at the sight of the burns around their tiny ankles. Next came the parents, who instantly gathered their children close once they were free.

Silently, he let them have their moment, knowing they needed to calm their children and themselves if they were going to escape properly. Soon enough he had the witch released, who thanked him before heading to the far wall that he had pointed out. The two werewolves practically tackled each other once they were free, nuzzling each others necks as they cried, soothing their inner wolf with the knowledge that they were no longer separated from their mate.

Suddenly, pain flared in Mokuba’s chest, and he subtly leaned against one of the cells, trying to ride out the wave of agony that overtook him. Once it had calmed enough, Mokuba opened his eyes and looked up, freezing as he found himself meeting the knowing gaze of the one vampire he had yet to free. In that moment, Mokuba could tell that he knew.

He were dying.

Pressing his lips in a firm line, Mokuba shakily straightened himself , determinedly making his way over to the final cell. He had known what would happen if he continued to push himself when he’d first started this, had known just how close he was to pushing too far. It was unlikely he would live to see the morning, but Mokuba couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it, not when his death would undo at least one of the families many many wrongs.

As the lock on the cell door finally clicked open, Mokuba looked up, not entirely surprised to see the vampire standing directly before it, free of his bindings as if they had been nothing but a mild inconvenience. Eyes locked with his, Mokuba pushed the door open for him and stepped shakily to the side. Behind him , he could hear the quiet sounds of the wall crumbling away at the hands of the three witches, the three of them quickly hugging as they were finally reunited, before beginning to guide the others to freedom using the path you had taught them about.

“Go… “ Mokuba whispered, unsure why he lingered.

The tall brunette vampire knelt down next to him. He stared deep into Mokuba’s eyes. “Go! You don’t want them to find-” Seto sswore softly and sliced his wrist open. Mokuba watched in a panic as the vampire brought the bleeding wound to his lips. Mokuba pushed it away “I don- wanna be a vampire…” he protested weakly.

“You already are. You're a halfling like me. I should have known that they weren’t feeding you. I know the blood of our own kind isn't great but it will keep you alive long enough for me to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere we can have you feed properly.” Seto pleaded. “Come on Mokie. Drink…for me…”

Something about the strange nickname echoed inside him as the vampire strode forward. Making him recall a soft smile, warmth and safety. Something that Mokuba never felt with the Schrodinger Hunter Clan.

“Drink.”

It was too soft to be a command Mokuba realized. It was almost as though Seto were begging him.

The nickname and the look of desperation in the normally stoic vampires eyes made Mokuba drop his hands and drink from Seto's open wrist. The liquid acting like a key to the door of his own locked memories.

He was Mokuba Kaiba. He had been taken away from his elder brother by the Schroeder's who had though they were “saving” a human child. Except he was a half vampire and with out regular blood he would have died soon enough.Mokuba fed until Seto took his wrist away and tucked him back to his chest. “There. Now let's get out of here before those morons realize we're gone.”

Seto scooped his little brother up into his arms and Mokuba found himself clinging to Seto’s shirt as they hit the night air outside of the crumbled wall. “I refuse to leave you behind again Mokie.”

Mokuba happily fell asleep against his brothers chest

“What the hell were you thinking?!” yelled a voice from outside the room. “You went off half cocked without a plan and no back up-”

Mokuba jerked away and found himself woke up in a large bed. Big enough for like 4 full grown adults to sprawl in without touching one another. He was warm and wrapped in blankets with an IV hooked into his arm giving him a steady infusion of blood. Mokuba looked around the room he was in, which could have fit three of the his bedroom back at the Schroeder's. On the small bedside table sat a plush stuffed silvery white dragon with angry blue eyes. He reached out to stroke it’s soft fuzzy head

Seto's voice drew him back to the conversation outside of his room. “Come off it Yami! Don't pretend that you wouldn't have done the exact same thing if it were Yugi or Atem-”

“At least I have a bond so at least someone would know where I went!” Yami’s voice snapped.

Mokuba couldn’t see either of them. The door was far enough away that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them word for word. But it was like he’s been wearing glasses that dimmed his vision and ear plugs for years. Now everything was sharper and even the dim lighting of the room was bright enough that he could see every detail of the ornate furniture.

“You should have at least left a note or something!” Yami shouted at Seto “You got your answer from Gozaburo and ran off! He was dead before anyone else found him! What if you had died Seto?!”

“Like they could have-”

“That is not the point Seto! What if you had? You and I both know that hunters have access to things that could kill even you. If they had killed you, darkness forbid, no one would have been able to find Mokuba. No one else could have saved him. Pretty stupid move for the Head Strategist! What did you expect me-the kingdom to do with you gone….” at the correction Yami’s voice softened, almost defeated.

Mokuba wondered for a moment what kind of relationship they had.

“Okay. Okay. I get it. Next time I’ll leave a note.” Seto said in a teasing tone.

“You had better because next time you pull a stunt like this I will lock you up.” Yami told him.

“I would love to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Yami chided.

There was something in Yami’s voice that Mokuba couldn’t quite place. He didn’t get long to think about it because someone knocked on the door. Out of habit Mokuba hastily laid back down and closed his eyes to feign sleep. He heard the door open and footsteps approach his bed. Mokuba opened his eye to just thin slits so he could watch Seto replace the blood bag. Then he sat down on the bed and brushed the hair out of Mokuba’s face.

“How are you feeling” Seto told him gently calling his bluff. Mokuba opened his eyes the rest of the way.

“I’m kind of tired. But I feel better than I have in a long time.” Mokuba told his brother opening his eyes. “Who was that?”  he asked referring to the stranger. “Oh. That was just Yami. He came over to put his two cents in one my actions.” Seto told him.

“He sounded worried.”

“Yeah. Well being the brother to the King make you do that.” Seto answered frowning.

“But-”

“Hush.” Seto chided “You should be sleeping. My room is just down the hall if you need-”

“Seto?”

“Yes?”

“Stay with me?” Mokuba asked. Seto smiled down at him in a soft fond way that Mokuba had the feeling only he would ever get to see. Seto pulled off his boots and curled up behind Mokuba on the bed. He snagged the little dragon and handed it to Mokuba, wrapping his arms around the pair of them.

“Welcome home little brother.” Seto whispered to him softly.