#drabble guide

[k0mmari]

Endless Abyss(kinda)! SY AU

First things first, this is very much inspired by this post by @/rainbowsmagicandshit and @/allpiesforourown, HIGHLY recommend reading that fist just to get a glimpse of where I started off, but do note I have accidentally deviated from the original idea a bit, so uh, oops ig.

This was born out of a mix of different ideas (as usual), so think of this as ‘The AU where SY is a demon, and also the Endless Abyss, and also my excuse to have Binghe possibly make a harem consisting entirely of SY’s’, or, as I like to call it:

As per usual, Shen Yuan has died. It happens to the best of us, and of course, he died while reading the glittering piece of trash that is Proud Immortal Demon Way.But, as he is in the process of getting snatched away by the System, something goes wrong, and the System has to quickly redirect itself and it causes SY to get knocked out of course.

His soul scrambles to find a new host, and it manages to find someone suitable enough. When SY wakes up though, he isn’t greeted by the sight of a roof, or a forest, or anything remotely familiar; instead, the moment he regains consciousness, he’s senses are flooded with as much information as possible. It’s like a computer with too many tabs open, but in this case, you can see all the tabs at the same time and all of them are playing the most obnoxiously loud videos possible, in fact, everything feels so overwhelming even thinking becomes too much.

What SY doesn’t know is that he has transmigrated into the body of a Titan, an almost extinct godly demon race that only existed in the confines of Airplane’s first drafts, and it turns out shoving a human soul into the body of a deity doesn’t bode so well, since what the human mind is able to process doesn’t even come close to what a Titan is able to feel. So because SY can’t get a hold of his own mind, his control of his own body is also not great, and he is completely unaware as his newly acquired body goes on a rampage.

See, SY is currently in a very old version of the Demon Realm, so old in fact, Heavenly Demons still rule over the Realm. It really is quite a shame that SY wasn’t in his right mind at the time, and instead of being able to observe how ancient Heavenly Demons governed demonic society, he instead accidentally set on a path of destruction, with the casualties being anything that had the bad luck of standing in his way. In fact, the destruction got so bad a few of the Heavenly Demons rulers, who notoriously hated each other, settles on a temporary peace agreement and joined forces to stop the mad Titan.

SY, in his frenzied state, didn’t even notice as hundreds of years went by as the Heavenly Demons tried to stop him, and also barely noticed when they finally managed to chain him down and cast him away to be forever banished to the Endless Abyss. His body, once so tall it grazed the clouds, was torn apart, with each of its different parts sealed away in various locations as an attempt to diminish the Titan’s power. It worked, actually, and unbeknownst to the demons, SY slowly began to get his thoughts in order; the event that finally pushed him to coherency was when a few of those Heavenly Demon rulers got greedy, and while sealing away SY’s body parts, attempted to harness his power for themselves, and tried to create legendary weapons out of his flesh and bone.

Most of them failed, a Titan’s power to overwhelming for even a Heavenly Demon to handle, but one of them succeeded, and created a powerful sword made from the Titan’s own heart: Xin Mo. Unfortunately for the creator of Xin Mo, it didn’t take long for them to fall into madness and eventually succumb to Xin Mo’s power, casting themselves away to hold onto the sword forever in the same valley SY’s hands were sealed; but it is as they say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and while Xin MO’s creator perished, they managed to take enough power away from SY for him to finally be able to think.

It had been a thousand years at this point, and SY’s first coherent thought was that he desperately needed a break, and that in all these years, he hadn’t managed to get a single glimpse into the world of PIDW, and what a waste! Specially since he was now in the most interesting area Airplane had managed to create, he was itching to explore the world. Of course, in his current state he wasn’t exactly able to move (having his limbs cut off certainly didn’t help, but apparently it had been so long since he was imprisoned that his Main Body had started to fuse with the Abyss? Really, more of a slight inconvenience than anything), but he also had become tired of his Titan body with it’s Titan feelings, and so he decided to split his consciousness and create a small army of human sized avatars who were later dubbed his ‘Watchers’, who’s sole purpose was to explore the Endless Abyss and send their findings back to the Main Body (in bite sized, easy to understand thoughts).

It is the first years of his Watchers wandering about that SY finally understood what had happened to his body, and figured out that Xin Mo was a product of his flesh. He figured that since demons tried to use his body for malicious purposes before, with one even succeeding, he decided that one Xin Mo was enough, and came up with a plan: He was going to piece his Titan body back together as a means to prevent anything of the sort happening again, but he was immediately going to seal the Titan body away again, as to not have to deal with it’s overwhelming power.

As the Watchers were sent to locate his body parts again, one of their first findings were the hands, which also meant the resting place of Xin Mo itself. How lucky, he thought! He could just take the hands away and maybe leave one of the Watchers guarding Xin Mo so when Luo Binghe eventually comes to retrieve his sword, SY at least can catch a glimpse of his favorite protagonist! He wasted no time, and while his avatars tried to unseal his hands, one of them went to move Xin Mo, just so it was out of the way, and in doing so the sword retaliated and ended up disintegrating the poor Watcher. What a rude sword, going against its own body.

Fine! If Xin Mo was going to be difficult so be it, and SY formed a new plan: before reuniting his Titan body back together, SY send his Watchers to keep an eye on as much of the Endless Abyss as possible and the moment Luo Binghe fell in, he would turn to hugging the protagonist’s thigh and help him survive the harsh environment as long as Binghe took Xin Mo. Well, it should be no problem, right? Binghe was fated to get the sword one way or another, and SY is sure his involvement will be small insignificant enough that it won’t be much more of a side quest for the future Demon Emperor!

Now, if he were a half human, half Heavenly Demon teenager who just got pushed into hell by his teacher, where would he land….

*

So, as you can see, this is mostly more like SY’s origin story lol, but I’ll probably write Binghe’s first meetings with the Watchers sometime soon (hopefully).In the meantime though, enjoy some more of the bonus sketches I did while figuring out the AU, and of course, if anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, feel free to send them to me!

[lightseoul]

CASUAL CASUALTIES (10.6k)

pairing. k. bakugou x reader

synopsis. what was meant to be an innocent trip down to the bridge becomes a national sensation when you get outed as #15 pro-hero dynamight's soulmate on live tv. inconvenient, yes, very much so—but it's not like you have to do something about it. but then the bakugou katsuki himself seeks you out, and you find yourself getting into a whole lot of trouble. inspired by @/andypantsx3's fingerprints. (read on ao3)

c.w. minors dni. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up, post-timeskip/ch 431, soulmate!au, lots of cursing, reader is ill, depictions of mental illness (depressive themes and suicidality), suicide & suicide-related deaths, nsfw/mature themes, minor manga spoilers

a/n. here it is, y'all! while i know the word count and tags are quite daunting, i really hope you give this fic a chance because i'm extremely proud of this one, which i haven't felt about my writing in a while. if you do end up reading it, thank you and i sincerely hope you enjoy it <3

to be fair, you were just…weighing your options.

taking a short trip down to shizuoka’s famous ayumi bridge wasn’t part of your itinerary for the day, not that you’ve been having exceptionally busy itineraries for who knows how long. it was a spur-of-the-moment decision that you periodically second-guessed on the way there, the vivid picture of your unmade but comfortable bed weighing heavily in your mind.

still, and despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the need for fresh air, nor the relief that filled your renewed albeit fatigued lungs as you finally arrived at your destination.

from where you are now standing with your arms folded on top of the relatively short railings, you look past the barricade and down onto the cloudy river below you.

it was an innocent gesture—one borne out of curiosity minus most of the morbidity—but it apparently wasn’t innocent enough, because one moment you were studying the ripples in the distant water, and the next, you’re violently yanked from behind.

you let out an unintentional ‘oof’ as you stumble backward, your body helplessly tugged alongside the blouse that you vaguely register as the thing that’s being pulled back. you probably stagger a few feet away from the edge of the bridge, before unceremoniously falling on your butt.

and as if out of nowhere, pro-hero dynamight emerges right in front of you.

“are you crazy?” he spits out, frenzied. “do you have a fucking death wish?”

you blink. “i—”

he throws his arms up in what you think is defeat, cutting you off, although he’s looking more pissed than resigned. “fucking menaces,” he mumbles loudly under his breath.

a surge of indignation instantly shoots through you, and you open your mouth to spit something back at him, but you don’t get the chance to, because he holds out his hand.

robbed of all words, and quite frankly, barely registering what’s happening, the best you can do is blink at him. again.

his eyebrows furrow, irritation surely bubbling in his veins. his hand stays put, though. “what are you waiting for? get up.”

you hesitate, eyes drifting from his face and down to his hand. unlike his gloved left, his right is bare, and riddled with a plethora of scars. you didn’t know about that, at least from his pictures on tv and social media, unlike the one on his face that is constantly broadcasted for everyone else to see.

you don’t dwell on it further, though, deciding then and there that you want to go home right the fuck now.

you quickly take his hand and help him by pulling yourself up. once you’re upright, you’re just as quick to let go, opting to brush off the dirt stuck to your clothes.

“thanks,” you start, forcing yourself to meet his piercing gaze that’s indubitably boring holes into your face. “…i guess.”

“you guess?” he spews, incredulous, before shaking his head. “never fucking mind.”

“dynamight!”

startled, you whip to look at the source of the voice, and your eyes comically widen when they land on a group of people who look suspiciously like the media. and right behind them are a few police cars dotted with several police officers.

you turn to face bakugou, about to clarify with him if he knows what they’re doing here, but he’s already staring at you, an inexplicable expression etched on his face.

“what?” you can’t help but ask.

he sighs, cocking his head toward the closely approaching herd. “get ready.”

“dynamight!” the woman decked out in a blazer and pencil skirt exclaims, completely oblivious to the concept of personal space as she thrusts her microphone into bakugou’s face. you feel yourself shrink from where you stand slightly to his right, unsure as to whether or not you’re being filmed right now.

you hope you aren’t.

“two negotiations in a row,” she breathes out, disbelieving. “how did you do it?”

negotiations?

“what kind of stupid question is that?” he barks out. “i simply was in the right place at the right time with the first one.”

“oh, you’re too humble!” she quips, signaling the cameraman to steady his shot of the pro-hero’s face. “we came as soon as we could when we heard about what was going down here.”

“yeah, and you could’ve caused the situation to escalate even further than it already did,” he retorts without missing a beat. the reporter’s face falls. bakugou takes that as a sign to go on.

“you’re lucky i arrived and intervened when i did. and how did none of you dipshits think to call the fucking police?”

“i—”

“you’re all too preoccupied with getting your next scoop that you lost your fucking grip on reality and failed to help,” the pro-hero chastises.

he pauses for a second, and you’re about to think he’s finally done with his spiel for the woman’s sake when he glances at you, looking like he’s got something more to say.

and as you find out in the next, excruciating seconds, he definitely has.

the man shoots his arm up, his thumb sticking out, pointing conveniently at you.

“case in point,” he states. “we could’ve had a casualty.”

you gawk at him.

a what?

“i’m sorry,” you start, turning to face the ash-blonde, acutely aware of the inquisitive eyes peering at you, “i think you’re misunderstanding. i wasn’t going to jum—”

“oh my god.”

miffed, you turn again to look at the woman, but now her countenance has gone all pale, looking like she just saw a poltergeist. seemingly speechless, she doesn’t try to get a word out, but what she does is point at bakugou’s wrist.

the man beside you shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “the fuck are you—”

whatever bite the pro-hero was about to unleash on the reporter gets stuck in his throat when he flips his hand and freezes.

and when you see the familiar-looking timer written on his wrist that reads 00:02:57, you stiffen.

it can’t be.

still, you’ve got to make sure.

and so with bated breath, you slowly lift your right hand, turning it with the palm facing up.

and sure enough, your timer—the one that’s been at zero your entire life—reads just a few seconds after bakugou’s.

he thinks he’s fucking spiderman.

you mentally roll your eyes as you replay the clip of bakugou that went viral a few days ago.

you were able to put two and two together on the way home from the bridge, your conjecture proven correct when you got home and checked your social media accounts, which were crawling with articles and posts about the jumper who the #15th pro-hero dynamight was able to talk down.

he was a middle-aged man who apparently lost custody of his only son in light of his divorce, and couldn’t find a way out of the agony apart from death.

you couldn’t get a good view of his face, since the shots were all focused on bakugou taking his glove off to reach out to the guy, but you figure that’s a good thing. the man’s already fucking suicidal—the last thing he needs is for his privacy to be breached.

you can only laugh at the irony as you parse through your notifications, because lo and behold—they’ve already found you out.

because of course! what story sells better than a notorious hero’s successful negotiation with a jumper?

a notorious hero’s successful negotiation with a jumper who also happens to be his fucking soulmate.

nevermind the fact that you weren’t actually planning to jump that day.

“excuse me?”

you look up from your phone to find a teenage girl peering at you timidly from across the counter.

you tuck the device in your pocket and put on your most cordial smile. “hi! how can i help you?”

she puts what seems to be a fantasy duology on top of the surface between the two of you, before shooting you a shy smile back. “just these two, please.”

you peek at the titles and immediately light up. “great choice! my friend loves these.”

she lets out a delighted sound as you ring up her purchase, and you make small talk as you take her card and pack her books in a brown paper bag.

“have fun reading!” you say as she accepts the package from you, mouthing a quick thanks.

you watch the girl exit the bookstore with a grin you didn’t know you had on your face, which you only catch wind of when you shift your attention back to the next person in line.

because one sight of them has it wiped off your mouth in an instant.

even if they’re decked out in the most unhelpful disguise of a baseball cap, hoodie, and face mask.

still, two can play at this game. and quite frankly, you’re up for roleplaying rather than having a confrontation anyway, with this ridiculous get-up he has on.

and so with the most friendly tone you can muster, you ask: “how can i help you?”

even behind his whole guise, you can see the darkening of his gaze when you put forth the question. “are you serious?”

you tilt your head to the side in fake innocence. “what do you mean, sir? you’re at the counter at a bookstore…”

apparently, that’s enough to rile up the great explosion murder god dynamight, because he angrily tugs his mask down before bobbing his head as if saying ‘seriously’?

you pretend you’re just figuring it out, going the extra mile by letting your mouth form the shape of a small ‘o’, but you can tell he’s not buying it. he glares at you, and you’re smart enough to know it’s a warning, so you cut it out despite yourself.

“the question’s still the same, by the way,” you offer when he doesn’t say anything. “how can i help you?”

his eyebrows furrow. “are you always this fucking nonchalant?”

no, you answer in your head, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s less nonchalance and more apathy. you shrug, “it's either that or panic about the whole situation.”

this time, his eyebrows shoot up. “so you’re not frazzled? like, at all?”

you stop yourself from rolling your eyes just in time. “of course, i am. kind of—at least. the last thing i need is to be scrutinized by the public.”

“that one’s on you, showing up at the same bridge as that jumper.”

you bristle. “i told you, i wasn’t going to jump!”

only belatedly do you realize that you just said that last bit quite loudly, and you hurriedly scan the room to see a few curious faces have glanced your way. you bow slightly in apology, before turning back to regard the pro-hero.

he huffs. “let’s say you weren’t. it doesn’t matter, because we still made contact and now the news is out.”

“so? i don’t see how we have to do anything about it.”

“believe me, i agree.”

you laugh. “wow, who knew the dynamight doesn’t want a soulmate, let alone meet and be tethered to one?”

“laugh all you want, dumbass,” comes bakugou’s reply. “but what i’m about to say is not a laughing matter.”

“do pray tell.”

“fucking—” he starts, before taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. once he’s expelled that air, he fixes his gaze on you. you subconsciously straighten up.

“i need you to put up appearances with me.”

you squint at him. “huh?”

he presses his lips in a tight line. “i’m dropping in the rankings, and i’ll drop even further if i don’t—”

“i don’t see how any of this is my business.”

“—if i don’t do anything palatable about the situation,” he presses on. “it’s costing me and my agency, as much as i fucking hate to admit it.”

you only stare at him, letting the gears in your head turn in light of the newfound information. and when you don’t say anything, bakugou finishes.

“it’ll only be for a while.”

pft.

a while?

you hesitate. of course, you would. there’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with the pro-hero, especially not now nor in the near, foreseeable future. in fact, you don’t even want to think about how he found out this is where you worked part-time. and you know there’s more where that came from.

you shake your head, “i’m sorry, but there’s no way i can—”

“i’ll pay you.”

you whip to look at him, shocked. “what?”

“you need the money, right?” he asks, and you hate how he’s right. “pr is offering an amount.”

you gulp, hating even more how you’re actually considering this. “how much are we talking about?”

he tells you. you barely catch your jaw from dropping to the floor.

with that amount, you’ll have the luxury of quitting this minimum wage job that you’ve barely been able to keep doing and then some. you’ll be set on your monthly expenses for a couple of months, and maybe even have enough to splurge on the few things that you’ve been wanting to get for yourself but haven’t had the means to.

and all that just by pretending for one to two months, tops?

your name and face are already common knowledge, anyway. there shouldn’t even be a debate.

you stick your right hand out, the one with the ticking timer on your wrist, for him to shake. he extends his, and the sight of the matching numbers sends an unidentifiable sensation down your spine. you try to ignore it.

and just like that, you shake on it, and the deal is on.

besides, you’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.

you push the glass door open, mindful of not adding any more handprints on the already marked surface. the wind chimes you didn’t know were hanging above it from the inside resonate as you enter, and you find yourself suddenly grateful that you at least managed to put on a bit of makeup for today. a few people seated near the entrance glance to look at you, which is probably a good thing for once.

right before bakugou left the bookstore a few days ago, he suggested you exchange numbers, which you agreed to gingerly. you expected radio silence for at least a week and hoped for forever, but a text eventually came later that night, asking for your availability so he could schedule a meet-up in public.

you told him you couldn’t meet until today, probably giving off the impression that you were busy with something, when in reality you were just tired and needed the time to process what was about to happen.

which brings you to now, standing at the doorway of a hip café in the heart of musutafu, scanning the faces for vermillion daggers he has for eyes.

it takes you a second, what with the afternoon crowd slowly encroaching on the establishment and filling up the tables, but you eventually locate him, with the help of the scarred hand he raises to get your attention.

“hey,” you greet when you reach his spot near the back, and he nods at you in acknowledgment. taking a seat across from him, you make it a point to study your position. “are you sure you want to sit here?”

he raises an eyebrow, which you can now see clearly without the shadow of the cap from before. “what, this table not up to your standard?”

exasperation shoots through you, as it always does, but you shake it off. instead, you toss him a tight-lipped smile. “no, it’s just that people might not see us back here. which, you know, kind of defeats the purpose?”

he doesn’t say anything for a beat, gaze fixated on you, before he breaks eye contact and shakes his head. “don’t worry,” he offers. “calculated move. we’re still gonna be spotted, trust me.”

you nod…slowly. you guess that makes sense. if you seat yourselves smack dab at the center, it may come off as the both of you seeking attention, consequently undermining the authenticity of your whole charade. a real high-profile couple would want to keep it low-key.

you snort at what you just called the two of you.

“what?” bakugou asks, defensiveness bleeding into his tone. you look up at him, and you take a second to study his appearance. he ditched the cap and hoodie, only sporting a black shirt and what you think are loose joggers and sneakers.

and with his infamously unruly hair trimmed?

well. you hate to admit it, but he actually looks…nice.

you smile at him, genuinely this time. “nothing.”

he narrows his eyes at you, like he thinks you’re lying out of your ass, but he lets it go. luckily enough, and as if on cue, the waiter arrives to give you the menu and complementary water, and bakugou orders iced tea while you request your go-to drink. you thank the guy before he dashes off to tend to other customers.

“so,” you start when silence falls upon the two of you. “how exactly are we going to do this?”

he picks up his glass. “do what?”

“you know, pretend?” you gesture vaguely with your hands. “do we have to do pda or something?”

you didn’t plan to cause it, but regardless, bakugou chokes on the ice-cold water he was just in the middle of drinking. you reach out to—what, rub his back?—but he holds his hand up to stop you as he coughs his lungs out. you sit back down, and you watch him as he gathers his bearings, wiping the tears that pooled at the corners of his eyes.

“sorry,” you supply, “great job, though. you just announced our presence to everybody.”

at that, bakugou snorts, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of you. he shakes his head, “dumbass.”

“but no,” he continues, back to being serious, “well, at least for now. as far as pr is concerned, we just have to be seen together until the whole thing dies out and the volatility of my ranking dissipates.”

“okay. that clicks, i guess.”

“you’re still up for it, then?”

now it’s your turn to narrow your eyes at him. “we shook on it, didn’t we? i’m a woman of my word, bakugou.”

“well—”

“and for the last time, i wasn’t going to jump.”

that makes him bark out a laugh so loud that it startles you. grinning, he waves you off. “yeah, yeah. don’t need to get all worked up, princess.”

blazing right past that cursed nickname—you’d first go through hell and high water before you let yourself be flustered in front of this man—you shoot him an expectant look. “well?”

“well, what?”

“are we just gonna sit here and stare at each other for two, three hours? we’ll have to do something, smartass.”

if bakugou is anywhere near bothered by your nickname for him, he doesn’t let it show. instead, he takes the bait. “whaddya have in mind?”

“we can play a conversation game. the one that has prompts?” you fish out your phone from your bag, and you quickly thumb through your apps until you find the one. you click on the button that says ‘play’ and place the gadget at the center of the table.

“there,” you point. “i ask a question and you answer. then we switch and so on and so forth.”

he examines the screen. “sounds lame.”

you scoff. “lamer than sitting and waiting?”

he doesn’t answer for a few seconds, until he finally sighs and nods at you, shifting in his seat as if bracing himself for what’s to come.

“i can go first,” you volunteer, straining to look at the words on display. you cringe when you read them. “do you think i was popular in high school?”

“seriously?” he snickers, and you shrug.

he doesn’t even take a moment to think about it. “well, you work in a bookstore, so no.”

“fair enough. your turn,” you swipe on the screen and turn it 180 degrees so he can see it.

you laugh when his face contorts as he finishes scanning the question. his eyes dart up to glare at you. “who came up with this stupid ass game?”

“just read the question, bakugou.”

he splutters for a beat, ultimately relenting, seething the words through his teeth. “when it comes to relationships, do you think i’m looking for something casual?”

you’re pretty sure you know what the answer is, but you still squint at the man to mess with him.

“are you fucking with me?” he grits out, bug-eyed. “does it fucking look like i’m capable of being casual about anything at all?”

you can’t help it—you throw your head back and laugh.

“stop laughing at me, dumbass.”

you press your lips together in an attempt to quell your mirth, but you burst out laughing again when you catch a glimpse of his reddening face.

“hey—”

“sorry, sorry—it was just—your face—”

“i get it, now quit it.”

eventually, but not immediately, you do. to your relief, bakugou doesn’t forfeit like a sore loser after that round, instead choosing to press on and find an equally incriminating question for you. you bounce off of each other, mainly talking about your respective pasts, like your education, families, and upbringing, although staying considerate enough not to overstep and pry on confidential information.

there were quite a few questions directed towards the present—what you’re currently doing, any nearing plans, current events—and you were okay enough to answer them with minimal detail. the future-oriented ones, though, you barely manage to skirt around and not respond to. you noticed bakugou looking at you a little too closely during those instances, but you feigned indifference.

that’s all you could do, really.

even then, and without you noticing, the hours pass by, and by the time you actually look past the prompts and up to your phone’s clock, it’s already 5:05 pm, a good four hours past your agreed-upon meeting time.

when you glance back up at bakugou, his face reads the same—mild shock at the fact that you were too engrossed in your conversation to notice the sky getting dark and the streetlights illuminating the walkways beyond the coffee shop’s glass walls turning on one by one.

“sorry,” you say as you swiftly take your phone and lock the screen. “i didn’t mean to keep you.”

“no,” he counters, pocketing his own. “i didn’t notice, either.”

you smile at him as you put on your bag. “still think it’s lame?”

“yes,” he promptly replies, a smirk now decorating his sharp features. “but i had fun, or whatever the fuck.”

and for the nth time that afternoon, you laugh.

he texts you first that night, to your surprise.

(8:38 pm) bakugou katsuki: thanks. for coming out today.

from where you were sprawled lazily on your mattress, hair still wet from that shower you almost didn’t take, you thumb out a response.

(8:39 pm) you: no problem, boss 🫡

you press send before you can overthink things. instead, you let the warm feeling of someone else’s gratitude bloom in your chest and bask in it. that doesn’t get to happen for too long, though, because another message arrives.

(8:40 pm) bakugou katsuki: don’t call me that. by the way, did you see the news?

you feel your brows crease.

(8:40 pm) you: what news?

ping.

(8:40 pm) bakugou katsuki: bakugou katsuki sent you a link

you immediately click on the string of words, and you’re redirected to an article. it takes a while to load—the internet is sometimes spotty at your modest condominium unit—but when it does, your jaw drops.

because right at the center of which is an image of you and bakugou at the café.

“holy shit.”

before anything else, you zoom in on your face, because priorities, right? you stare at the bunch of pixels for a good few minutes, before ultimately deciding there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. besides, it’s not like this was the first glimpse the public has had of your appearance. despite yourself, you check bakugou’s, and of course, the man looks like he just came straight out of a magazine shoot.

you then read the title, which must’ve been written in haste in an attempt to get ahead of a random netizen going viral. soulmates spotted: pro-hero dynamight seen with the girl from the bridge.

well.

at least they’re not calling you a jumper.

still.

(8:44 pm) you: seriously? girl from the bridge?

another ping.

(8:44 pm) bakugou katsuki: still at the fucking headline? hurry to the end, dumbass.

you roll your eyes, mainly because you can—perks of living alone and all. skimming through the sentences, you mouth the words to yourself—a rehash about who you are, the contact from a few days ago, eyewitnesses and accounts from today—until you land on the thing you think bakugou’s been trying to highlight.

in light of recent events, bakugou katsuki, who recently dropped several spots due to unfavorable encounters with citizens, has risen in the charts to #13.

you beam.

you and bakugou hang out a couple more times over the course of the next few weeks.

your get-togethers mainly depend on his schedule—which you gawked at how hectic it was when he first described it to you—even more now that you’re officially unemployed. your contractual obligation at the bookstore ended just in time as your first paycheck from the dynamight agency arrived, and you took the impeccable timing as the universe’s way of telling you to quit so you could instead spend your time freely on hobbies that you haven’t had the energy for.

on the days that you do meet, though, you end up dedicating a huge chunk of your waking hours to the endeavor. it’s like that meme of a google calendar, with the get ready for meeting, meeting, and recover from meeting blocks taking up the entire 9 to 5.

this was definitely the case for your fourth rendezvous, which you spent at a park near the bridge where you first met. he didn’t give you any details, so you walked into it blindly with a full face of makeup, hair done, and a tote bag full of finger food and some beverages in tow. needless to say, you were surprised when you arrived to the bakugou katsuki on a plaid orange picnic blanket, with what looked like handmade sandwiches displayed for hungry onlookers to see.

“don’t start,” he preempts when he sees you eyeing the snacks as you sit down.

you blink at him innocently, a smile tugging at your lips. “i wasn’t going to.”

he frowns. “quit grinning, would you? i just thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air.”

nodding solemnly, you bring out your share of rations. “sure.”

you brace yourself for any snide remark about your pitiful food—at least, as compared to his handcrafted ones—but they don’t come. instead, what you get is a side eye, before: “why’d you look like you’re going to an event, or some shit?”

you whip to face him. “huh?”

he gestures to your face.

“oh, this? i just don’t want to look ugly in the photos, is all.”

“ugly?” he spews, as if the word in itself was as hideous as it meant.

“yeah,” you retort defensively, placing the cans of juice on the ground before shifting to look at him. “not that you have to worry about that.”

a pause.

“what’s that supposed to mea—”

“do you have anything you want to do?” you cut him off, changing the topic.

“i—uh—” bakugou stammers, caught off guard. “we can just talk, or something.”

you light up at that, and he scoffs when he sees. “same game?”

“why the hell not.”

he texts you again after the picnic, right as you step out of the train and onto the platform of your stop. you smile when you catch a glimpse of it.

(6:05 pm) bakugou katsuki: at #9 now. thanks.

as you walk up the stairs and onto the streets, you find yourself wondering why this whole ruse has been working like a charm, and the answer is quick to arrive.

humans love narratives, after all.

and what better way to forward the age-old, comforting, and redeeming tale of soulmates than through the prickly, explosive pro-hero they know so well?

you don’t hear from each other after that. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous just the tiniest bit—he was right, after all. you needed the money, especially after having quit your job. but you tell yourself it’s only been a couple of days, to trust that he’ll text when it’s time to make another public appearance, and that he’s way above ghosting you like you’re easily dispensible, regardless of whether or not you do feel that you are.

so, in an attempt to stop obsessing over this thing you’ve got going on with bakugou, you drag your ass out of bed and head to the nearest mall to run a few errands. you realize when you get to the supermarket that you forgot to catalog the things you actually needed to buy, cursing yourself when you do. still, you try your best to get on with it, relying instead on your hazy memory of what needs replenishing.

a good thirty minutes later, and with your grocery–filled tote bags hanging from your shoulders, you trek towards the pharmacy and fall in line. as always, there’s a long queue, but you eventually reach your turn, promptly buying your necessary meds and hightailing it out of there.

you consider booking a taxi instead of commuting home when you eventually feel the strain of the weight on your shoulders, but decide against it. the temperature is pretty decent anyway, you think to yourself as you walk and relish in the cloudy yet slightly windy weather. you study the buildings that you pass by, partly to distract yourself from how your bags are getting heavier and heavier by the minute, when your eyes land on a particular complex and you stop.

it’s either you’re going crazy, or you’ve been passing by the dynamight agency a million times and you never noticed.

you stand there for what feels like an eternity, peering at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and letting the internal tug-of-war play out inside your head, until you ultimately let the curiosity win. slowly and with caution, you take a few steps towards the entrance. you honest-to-god weren’t planning on stepping foot inside the establishment, but apparently, the equally glass doors are automatic.

you falter for a moment, eyes wide as saucers like a deer caught in the headlights as the “gates” slide open for you, before making the split-second decision to enter. it was either that or look stupid in front of everyone in the lobby who’s now staring at you, anyway.

luckily, you don’t get to stand there—awkward as shit—for a second longer because one of the receptionists hurries over to where you’re positioned.

the lady beams at you. “good afternoon—”

“hi,” you supply, “i was just—”

“y/n, right?”

crap. “uh, yes.”

her grin widens. “you’re just in time! bakugou-san just clocked out.”

“oh, i wasn’t—”

“y/n?”

the two of you whip to look at the back of the large room, and sure enough, the owner of the increasingly familiar gruff voice is looking right at you, just as shocked at you being here as you are.

you can only watch him—in all his regularly clothed, duffel bag-carrying glory—as he briskly walks towards where you are.

a waft of his heady perfume hits you just as he arrives at your side. “what are you doing here?”

what the fuck are you supposed to say? “i, uh—”

“she must’ve come to visit you, sir,” the receptionist pipes up chirpily.

at that, bakugou regards her with a look—one that says, do you mind? and you guess he must use that a lot around here, because she snaps her mouth closed in an instant, and bows before retreating to her spot behind the counter.

you keep your eyes trained on the woman as she scurries, wishing the ground would swallow you up before you’re forced to look at the pro-hero. but then he says your name again, and your head creaks to face him as if it’s got a mind of its own, its automaticity akin to that of vines winding to get the smallest peek at the sun.

“well?” he demands, brow raised in waiting.

“i was just going home and noticed your building was on the way,” you answer truthfully, a tad bit embarrassed. you shouldn’t have stopped and let your curiosity get the better of you.

he studies you for a second longer before his gaze drops to the things you’re carrying. “you were walking home? with those?”

“yeah…” you respond, voice small. “don’t worry, they’re not that heavy,” you lie.

and before he can call you out on your deceit, you throw the question back at him. “how ‘bout you?”

the second it tumbles off your lips, you knew it was fucking stupid.

“…i work here?”

there it is. in a last-ditch effort to save face, you let out a laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. he narrows his eyes at you, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man was amused.

“let me drive you home,” he offers out of the blue, you almost choke.

“what? no, i’m okay.”

“your shoulders are about to give out,” he says pointedly. “don’t be fucking stubborn.”

“seriously, i’m alright,” you insist, and he sighs. you turn it right back at him, “don’t you have somewhere to be? you’re actually leaving early for once.”

and strangely enough, he is. from the few weeks of knowing knowing him, you’ve learned that the man puts in overtime almost every single day, which has been one of the reasons why your hangouts were always scheduled on the weekends.

“‘m visiting my parents,” comes his curt reply.

you beam at him. it’s funny how picturing this hulking brute of a man as his parents’ son makes you feel warm. “that’s so nice of you.”

“‘s nothing,” he dismisses, before: “they’ve been asking about you, you know.”

“me?” you repeat lamely. “what about me?”

he shrugs. “just basic information about you, how we’re doing, and all that crap…”

and when you don’t say anything, he just goes straight for it. “they want you to visit.”

you gape at him.

“but don’t be pressured, and shit,” he backtracks. “i know that’s a tall order.”

huh.

“…i’ll think about it,” you eventually offer with a nod. and you will—later. when you’ve got your wits about you. but for now, you hastily go through your bags and pick out the thing.

“here,” you say, just as you thrust the small bouquet of orange tulips toward him. “give these to your mom. or dad. or both, really.”

his eyes dart between you and the flowers and then back at you again. great, you think to yourself. you’ve successfully rendered the man speechless.

“take it,” you assert after a moment. “they’re better off in you guys’ hands, anyway.”

he examines them for another while, before he finally takes them off your hands.

“thanks.”

you only smile at him. to your pleasant surprise, he flashes a small one back.

(9:06 pm) bakugou katsuki: i’d tell you to check the news but i know it’ll take you a century. i’m at 6th now.

the drowsiness that was just clouding your brain wards off like smoke that’s being fanned away. you sit up on your couch, rubbing your eyes with one hand while you type out a response with the other.

(9:07 pm) you: ha. and congrats!!! that’s great to hear 🥳

you barely get to adjust your butt’s position when a notification pops in.

(9:07 pm) bakugou katsuki: thanks. and my parents loved it, just so you know. the old hag especially.

you smile. another message.

(9:08 pm) bakugou katsuki: she wants you to come over for dinner this weekend.

your face falls. shit. you didn’t see this coming.

(9:09 pm) you: so soon?

your default ringtone resounds across your one-bedroom unit.

(9:09 pm) bakugou katsuki: she’s in a rush. say no if you don’t want to.

you pause, suddenly acutely aware of the guilt that’s stewing in the pit of your stomach. is deceiving his parents necessary, when all you need is to put on an act for the general public? still, bakugou did say his mother was in a rush. maybe he just got sick of her insistent nagging.

you take a sharp inhale.

(9:12 pm) you: i’m down 🫡

and just because there’s nothing more fun than pulling at his leg:

(9:12 pm) you: …granted i’ll get paid for it 😊

ping.

(9:13 pm) bakugou katsuki: you and your greedy ass. fine.

“and so that’s how i got masaru here to say yes to a date!”

you laugh as mitsuki loops an arm around the shoulder of the brunette sitting beside her, who only chuckles to himself, a faint pink sitting high on his cheeks. you chance a glance at bakugou, and sure enough, he’s rolling his eyes at his mother’s finishing line.

“what?” he quips defensively when you toss him a pointed look. “i’ve heard this story a million times.”

“and you’re gonna hear it again, tsuki,” mitsuki replies unapologetically.

bakugou only groans as you smile at the couple from across the table. “i think that was an excellent story, mitsuki-san.”

“thank you, y/n. but enough about us!” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, and you feel your stomach drop. “how ‘bout you two, huh? what’s the deal?”

“the deal is you’re being nosy as fuck,” comes bakugou’s snappy retort.

“come on, katsuki,” masaru implores, a playful lilt in his tone. “we’d love to hear about how things are going between the two of you.”

“is the press being all up in your ass?” mitsuki demands, “because i can tell them to fuck off if you need me to.”

“sure, if you want to fucking embarrass me.”

“you know what, i’d actually love to do that.”

“fucking hag—”

you worriedly watch the two ash blondes as they go at each other’s throats, before you look at masaru for help. he only shoots you a meek albeit unalarmed expression, which is enough to tell you this isn’t an uncommon occurrence in the bakugou household. thankfully, though, they calm down after a beat, opting to glare daggers at each other instead.

“to answer your question, mitsuki-san,” you take the gamble and interject, and everybody whips to look at you, “they’re being quite harmless. you know, minus all the circulating information about my life.”

at that, mitsuki’s joyful countenance morphs into one of sorriness. “i’m afraid that’s part of having a soulmate with a high profile, dear. it doesn’t help that you were being filmed when you both found out.”

“yeah, well, there’s not much we can do about it,” you offer with a genuine smile.

“is that why you’re just leaning into it?” asks masaru. “hanging out in public and all?”

“uh—”

“obviously,” bakugou cuts you off. you turn to look at him, stunned, before shifting back to face the couple.

“uh, yes,” you continue, “we figured there wasn’t any point in hiding anymore.”

that seems to perk mitsuki up. “hide what, tsuki?”

and when neither of you says anything: “are you trying to tell us something?”

you sneak a glance at bakugou, only to find him already looking at you. you stare at each other for what feels like a minute short of forever, before he breaks eye contact and cooly says the next thing.

says the next thing while simultaneously pulling the rug from under your feet.

“we’re dating,” he declares, and you sit there, witnessing his parents’ eyes bug out in surprise, hoping yours aren’t betraying the very same emotion you’re feeling right now.

“really?”

“oh my god! since when?”

bakugou huffs, practically exuding annoyance. “yes, and just recently. end of discussion.”

masaru laughs in delight while mitsuki pouts, although you can tell she’s fighting off a grin.

“and here we thought you were gonna die alone, tsuki,” masaru jokes.

“shitty fucking—”

“no, but seriously,” interrupts mitsuki, “i was getting nervous, katsuki. what with my diagnosis, i thought i’d never get to see you be happy with someone.”

you pause, looking at the man beside you. “diagnosis?”

“oh! he didn’t tell you?” mitsuki queries, tone laced with worry. “i don’t mean to be a party pooper, but i just got diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer a few months ago.”

shit. “i’m so sorry, mitsuki-san—”

the woman waves you off, a beautiful smile adorning her familiar features. “don’t be, dear. the doctor says the outlook is good as long as i strictly adhere to treatment.”

despite that, you can’t help but frown. “how are you feeling these days?”

“i’m good!” she supplies cheerfully. “masaru and i have been spending more quality time together, and katsuki’s been visiting more often. and of course, you being here is an added bonus.”

you toss the woman a grateful look, which she returns generously. mitsuki talks some more about it before shifting the conversation back to less depressing territories, like what bakugou was like growing up and her and masaru’s plans for retirement. eventually, minutes turned into a few hours, and came the time to go home. you profusely thank the couple as you begin to head outside, while bakugou steps out to his porsche to get the engine started.

“i’ll be hoping for your speedy recovery, mitsuki-san,” you say as you step out onto their front porch.

“thanks, dear. and i’ll be hoping that things go well between you and katsuki, okay?”

you force a smile on your face and the words out of your mouth. “i hope so, too.”

the air is tense between you and bakugou as you step out of his car at your complex’s parking lot, then through the doors at the guarded entrance, and even during the elevator ride up to your floor.

neither of you says a word the entire time, sharing only a few nods and glances with you leading the way. you were fully expecting him to just drive off the second you got out of his pristine vehicle, but he ended up exiting with you and following your trail like a shadow.

thankfully, not many people are still around to see you in the lobby or on your floor, even if it’s still 9-ish on a saturday. you both were all for being spotted together, but maybe being seen at either of your residences will cause more trouble than help. you are about to say this to break the ice when you arrive at the end of the hallway and in front of your unit, but bakugou beats you to it.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you.”

you freeze, blinking at him. “didn’t tell me what?”

he sighs, and suddenly the lines that you were convinced weren’t on his face a second ago are now evident—along with the exhaustion that’s carved right into it. “that my mom has cancer.”

you frown. “there’s nothing to apologize for, bakugou. you’re not obligated to tell me.”

“still,” he insists, seemingly growing more tired by the moment. “it blindsided you, hearing it from her. i should’ve just told you earlier.”

“maybe,” you admit, “but i understand your apprehension.”

he grumbles, but doesn’t reply. you decide to just go for it.

“can i ask you something?”

he looks up from where he was staring at the off-white tiled floor, expectant. “what?”

“is she part of the reason?” you begin, treading carefully. “why you wanted to put up appearances?”

he stares at you for a beat, perhaps a beat too long because you find yourself slowly regretting bringing up the query in the first place. you are about to backtrack and apologize for asking when, to your surprise, he nods.

ever so slightly that it’s almost imperceptible, but enough of a motion for you to see it.

“i just wanted to seem like i’m putting myself out there,” he mutters, “just in case something happens.”

you nod, ignoring the way your heart is stinging at his sincerity just now.

“she’s always been on my ass about finding someone, but then things happened and you showed up, and i figured why not just hit two birds with one stone, or some shit.”

a pause.

“personally i wouldn’t want to be the stone hitting not just one but two poor birds, but i get it.”

that must’ve caught him off guard, because bakugou snorts. you grin at him when he snickers and calls you stupid under his breath, the atmosphere taking a vastly lighter turn.

now, you didn’t notice it before—much like how you didn’t notice his agency’s building being part of your regular route to the mall—but bakugou has a dimple. a tiny one. and similar to his nod from a short while ago, it’s a subtle little thing, but it’s there—especially now that he’s smiling.

and right next to his dimple are his lips.

which are looking ungodly moisturized compared to your undoubtedly chapped ones.

wait.

your eyes shoot up from his lips to his eyes, a tidal wave of equal parts shame and humiliation ready to crash over your entire, pathetic body. but just as it is about to metaphorically collide with your frame, it freezes—just as you do.

because you catch him—and no matter how much he might try to deny it, you saw it with your own two eyes.

he was staring at your lips.

but apparently denying it isn’t part of his agenda for the night, because he does the exact fucking opposite.

he dives in and presses his lips onto yours.

and you were right—they are sinfully soft, even if you haven’t seen him apply lip balm in the handful of instances you hung out.

and as far as you can remember, this is the last coherent thought that crosses your mind, because the next few minutes go by like a blur. you vaguely recall him pulling away and looking straight at you, as if waiting for a reaction, before leaning right back in when you pull him closer by his shirt. what you don’t remember is who opens the door or how you manage to use your keys without breaking the momentum, but you magically do, just as magically as how fast clothes are shed on the way to your bed.

you recall him eagerly towering over you as your back hit the soft sheets of your mattress, as well as the honest admission of his inexperience yet willingness to learn against your neck. you remember guiding him, telling him how to touch you and the right places to do so—where to rub and lick and thrust not just his fingers to drive you over the edge.

and he does—drive you over the edge. over and over and over that you lost count. and you equally returned the favor, shocked at your own desperation and unusual determination to make him feel good. you recall his being vocal—which you loved, if the incessant wetness between your thighs that lasted the entire night was any indication. you don’t remember when you finished for the last time—when you both crashed out from sheer exhaustion.

but it eventually happened—otherwise, you wouldn’t be laying here, naked under the covers, with a sleeping bakugou illuminated by the sunlight peeking through your black-out curtains.

this wasn’t part of the plan.

the whole pretending to be amicable soulmates plan, sure. but perhaps more importantly, your short-term plan that consists of…well, today and tomorrow.

the last thing you need is to actually be tethered to a person this late in the game.

still, and despite the palpable regret that sits heavy on your chest—the one that’s very bare at the moment albeit concealed under your freshly-washed blanket—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it. besides, you don’t have anything else to blame for your behavior last night other than your own free will.

but why do you still feel so empty?

“you okay?”

ripped out of your stupor, you whip to look to your left, and you don’t know who else you were expecting, but your eyes still widen in surprise when you see a naked bakugou, slightly propped up by his two elbows that strain under his hefty weight. unable to sustain his gaze, you keep your line of vision trained on this one vein that runs along the length of his arm as you merely nod in response.

unsurprisingly, he doesn’t take that for an answer.

“i’m not asking again,” he warns, and your eyes shoot up to meet his in disbelief.

the words are out before you can rein them in. “are you always this mouthy even in the morning?”

“i’m not a morning person,” he simply spits back, as if that’s enough of an explanation in itself.

you furrow your brows at him, having half a mind to lock in on this staredown until the fluid in your eyes dries out and you finally, finally die (or go blind, whichever comes first), but then just as quickly as it possessed you with his challenge, the fight within you dies out, leaving your body limp with numbness and fatigue. you break eye contact when it happens, shaking your head in resignation.

you settle with: “it’s nothing,” and blindly hope he leaves it at that.

“‘s not nothing if it’s clearly bothering you,” he retorts to your chagrin.

“i don’t want to be embarrassingly vulnerable if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

at that, he scoffs. “we fucked. multiple times last night. it can’t get any more vulnerable than that.”

you flush at his brazenness. “yeah, well, that’s the thing. we…you know,” you lower your voice for the next bit, “had sex, and now the lines are getting blurry and it’s all confusing.”

and when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you tie your spiel with a mangled bow. “i told you it was gonna be embarrassing for me.”

that seems to rub him off the wrong way, because his nose flares in irritation. “why’re you talking like i’m some cold ass fuckboy? i told you, didn’t i? there’s nothing fucking casual about me.”

“i didn’t mean it like—”

“let me talk first,” he commands, and you shut up.

he sighs when you do, letting his head droop between his shoulders. “i don’t regret it, but if you do, then i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have made a move.”

you sit up from where you were lying down, the motion causing him to look up and at you as you shake your head, “don’t apologize, bakugou. it’s just…”

you trail off, weighing on what you can and cannot say.

“it’s just what?” he prods.

you let out a long exhale. “it’s just things are a bit…complicated, to say the least.”

that makes the pro-hero frown, but he doesn’t get to push you to expound on it because a booming voice erupts throughout the room, entirely juxtaposing the earlier quiet. you startle, then ease up when you realize it’s all might’s, and that it’s merely a ringtone. bakugou scrambles out of bed to fetch his phone, and you manage to look away just in time to avoid catching a glimpse of his massive dick.

which, after last night, is really just for courtesy purposes at this point.

thankfully, you don’t have to stare at the ceiling for too long because he retrieves it in record time, before hurriedly crawling back and flinging the covers on top of his lower half.

he eyes you as he brings the device up to his ear and speaks into it. “what is it, nerd?”

you strain to listen in on the voice at the other end, but you barely manage to pick up on a few words. you resort to observing bakugou’s facial expressions instead.

“cut to the chase,” he spews, and you find yourself feeling bad for the other person. “i’m busy right now.”

you watch as bakugou listens to the “nerd’s” reply, stiffening when the pro-hero curses under his breath.

“it’s next weekend? why’d you have to book it this early, then?”

was he planning to meet this person somewhere?

“shit. fine, i’ll ask her.”

you don’t even get to wonder who her is before bakugou swiftly brings his other hand up to cover the microphone, regarding you straight-up.

“shitty deku and round cheeks want to hang out next weekend,” he explains, slightly hesitant, before: “you up for that?”

you make a quick survey of bakugou’s face. can you even say no, at this point? technically, you can, but an inkling deep inside you points at your needing a distraction, because otherwise…

otherwise…

no, now’s not the time for that.

instead, you nod, forcing a smile on your lips. “i’ll go.”

bakugou stares at you for a beat, gaze borderline scrutinizing it makes you uneasy. but then he nods, and you find yourself taking a sharp breath as he goes back to his phone call.

“we’re in.”

“once again, serving time will be 15 to 20 minutes, and i’m haruhi, your server for this evening.”

you collectively thank the waitress as she beams at the four of you while serving your glasses of water, before turning around to return to the kitchen.

“this restaurant’s really hard to get into, you know,” shares midoriya when the girl is out of earshot, catching your attention. “but i heard their katsudon is really, really good, so i worked hard to get us a reservation.”

“worked hard, my ass,” sneers bakugou without missing a beat. “you pulled some strings. i recognize the owner, he’s the father of one of your top students.”

“kacchan—”

“don’t tease him, bakugou,” the brunette interjects, an adorable pout etched on her pretty face. “i was with him, he was on the phone for thirty minutes with the receptionist begging for a slot.”

“and you two are begging to be teased,” comes bakugou’s snarky quip. “quit it with the whole defending him, would ya?”

you fail to stop the smile that invades your lips as the new couple blush at bakugou’s remark, an unmistakable tinge of pink flooding both of their cheeks.

“if it’s okay to ask,” you start, tamping down the shyness that looms in when the two across you regard you pleasantly, “how long have you been dating?”

“uh, about three months, right, izuku?” uraraka replies quietly, the pink from earlier now blossoming into a more apparent red as she looks at the man.

“y-yes, three months,” confirms the greenhead.

from where he’s seated to your left, bakugou snorts. “it’s been a long time coming, if you ask me.”

“you make it sound so simple, bakugou,” counters uraraka, before shifting to face you. “it really wasn’t easy to get to this point, y/n. i’m not sure if bakugou’s told you, but we went through a lot in ua and even after that, which made entertaining anything beyond hero work impossible. plus,” she adds timidly, “there’s this whole soulmate situation on top of everything.”

curious, you ask. “what soulmate situation?”

and, as if they’ve gone through these motions countless times before, both midoriya and uraraka lift up their right wrists and thrust them forward for you to see. you lean forward to get a better view.

you look at midoriya’s first. his looks just like yours before you met bakugou a little over a month ago—opaque and conveniently set at zero. you then glance at uraraka’s, but to your surprise, hers looks different. a huge number is written on her flesh…

but it’s static and greyed out.

you look up at the woman, confused, and she’s quick to explain. “my soulmate died a few years ago.”

she shrugs, “and izuku’s…well, he’s never heard of them.”

“not that we wouldn’t be with each other if they were both around,” clarifies midoriya, who says it so quickly he almost stumbles over his words. “it’s just that because of these circumstances, our relationship is a bit…unconventional.”

“i understand,” you promptly reply with the most gracious expression you can muster. uraraka shoots you a grateful look, while midoriya bashfully scratches at his head.

you sense bakugou’s gaze on you through your periphery, but you ignore it.

you wouldn’t be able to hold it, anyway.

“it’s romantic, isn’t it?”

you round the corner, careful not to brush against bakugou when he does the same to your left. a sigh of relief threatens to wrack over the entirety of your frame when you’re met with the sight of the familiar-looking street, brightly illuminated by an array of streetlights dotting the entire length of it.

“what,” he says more than asks, effortlessly keeping up with your pace with his long strides.

you take a fleeting glance at him, before shifting your attention back to the pavement in front of you. “midoriya and uraraka, and how they chose each other.”

“i guess…” he responds, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “but i’ve always seen it from lightyears away.”

you pause, although you’re quick to step back into your rhythmic walking. “really?”

“they’ve always had each other’s backs even before ua,” he explains. “it’s creepy how similar they are to each other, too. it’d be weird if they didn’t end up together.”

he says it so seriously you can’t help but laugh. you catch him looking at you, smirking. “you’ve got an interesting way with words, bakugou.”

“sue me.”

you, in fact, don’t sue him, but you do unleash a cutting wisecrack in his direction, which he counters with his, and this goes on and on without pause that you don’t even notice you’ve already arrived at the front of your condominium unit until he points it out.

and as the weighty realization of this dawns on you, so do the memories of what happened when you were last here together. you rush to suppress them, and pick up the conversation from where you left off.

“i don’t know about you,” you quip, tossing him a grin, “but i take comfort in the fact that people can find someone beyond their designated soulmates.”

to your dismay, albeit somewhat unsurprisingly, bakugou doesn’t return it—the grin nor the sentiment, apparently—because he only stares at you weirdly, like you just said something…off.

great, you think to yourself. now you’ve ruined it.

might as well ruin it even further at this point, right?

finally, and to your brain’s relief, you let the damned grin fall off your face, let your shoulders sag from the strenuous effort to seem tall and confident for the last few hours, and you heave a heavy, heavy sigh. you sense bakugou stiffen at your palpable change in demeanor, but you pay it no mind.

“look,” you start, willing yourself to look up to meet his eyes, which you instantly regret because now they’re laced with obvious concern. still, you press on and gulp. “i didn’t want to do this, but i guess i have no choice now, do i?”

“what are you—”

“i know things are weird right now, and i just had to go ahead and start catching feelings like a lunatic, but i—”

you trail off, uncertain, before deciding fuck it. “this can’t go on, bakugou.”

the second you let the words out, you can only watch with anticipatory dread as a million emotions dance across his features. you stand there as he opens his mouth, before closing them, and then opening them again, although nothing comes out.

what seems like an eternity passes before he finally gets something out.

“…why?”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it’s because i’m sick.”

there.

but then he says something that completely throws you off balance.

“i know.”

you feel your eyes widen in surprise as he diverts his gaze. “what? how?”

“i—” he starts, reluctant, before: “i noticed.”

instantly, you flame in embarrassment. you thought you had this whole masking thing pinned the fuck down. and all this time you hadn’t?

you must’ve looked distraught at his admission, because he swiftly tries to soothe you. “don’t hide,” he says, and only then do you realize you’re shrinking in yourself like you do when you want to disappear. he frowns, “the last thing you need to be is fucking ashamed.”

at that, and despite yourself, you snort. you don’t have the heart to tell him you can’t remember the last time you felt shame over your condition from how long it’s just been there—an unwavering part of your life. still, you force a reply. “thanks.”

and before he can say anything uselessly placating that’ll only chip away at the very little you have left, you beat him to it. “i should head inside.”

“but—”

“good night, bakugou.”

and just like that, you spin on your heel, open the door with your keys, and close it shut in his face.

the conversation from earlier wouldn’t leave his head.

even as he tosses and turns on top of his king-sized mattress, and even as the clock ticks past the usual, strict bedtime he’s set for himself as early as high school, he finds himself wide awake, his steady heartbeat the only thing that’s breaking the monotonous quiet of his lonely bedroom.

so much happened in the course of the few minutes in front of your place, that while he prides himself in his acuity and general sharpness, he admits even he couldn’t have responded the way he should have despite desperately wanting to.

which fucking reminds him.

he didn’t get to say he likes you back.

he was so wrapped up in you implicitly trashing your soulmate connection, as well as you calling it quits that he barely registered your hasty confession. not when you immediately followed it up with an acknowledgment of what’s been causing you pain.

and as he stares at the dimly lit ceiling of his room, bakugou arrives at a pivotal realization—his feelings should be the least of your worries.

but that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve to know.

so with a renewed sense of determination, the pro-hero promptly sits up and reaches for the phone that’s perched idly on his nightstand. 10:07 pm, it reads. you should still be awake by now.

he types out a message.

(10:08 pm) me: you awake? can i call you?

he presses the send button before he can back out of it.

what feels like five minutes pass without a single chime emanating from his phone, at which point he finally allows himself to let the anxiety creep up his neck. he stares at your caller id, debating whether or not you’d get mad if he just went ahead and called you.

eventually, and after five more minutes, bakugou decides he’d rather face your wrath than deal with his own regret.

so he calls you. once, no answer. second attempt, sent straight to voicemail. third, fourth, and fifth, and that’s when a ghastly chill envelopes him.

it couldn’t be.

still, with bated breath and immense dread pooling in his stomach, he slowly lifts his right wrist to check.

only to find that the timer has stopped.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[zephyrchama]

You are a sheep.

You have been in the form of a sheep ever since you came to the Devildom. It can be quite inconvenient at times, but life finds a way.

This particular morning, you were awoken in the early hours of the morning by an odd murmur. It was impossible to gauge the time, given the Devildom's eternal night, but something instinctual told you it was too early for whatever nonsense was about to happen.

Fighting your heavy eyelids, you turned your head. Seven demons were sitting on the floor beside your bed, staring at you.

"You're awake!" Leviathan proclaimed.

"I told you the noise would wake them," Lucifer sighed.

"We were being quiet, though," Belphegor remarked.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Asmodeus greeted you.

"Shut it! It's happenin'!" Mammon caused the room to go silent again.

If you've learned anything in the Devildom, it's that even sheep deserve privacy. You dragged yourself into a sitting position and bleated, "what's happening?"

"We're checking the weather," Satan informed you.

"It's a tradition of sorts," Beelzebub explained.

"Can't you do that... literally anywhere else?" The second half of your question got obscured by a yawn, but you were sure you made your point. "What time even is it?"

"It's 6:03," Leviathan said.

"In the morning? Are you guys kidding me?"

As you sighed a grumpy sigh and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, Satan called your name.

"What?"

"Have you checked your shadow?" he asked.

"Huh? What do you mean, checked it?"

"Did you see it?" Belphegor asked.

"My shadow?" There was hardly any light, let alone light strong enough to cast a shadow on your bed. You twisted your neck to look around. "I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"No shadow!" Mammon exclaimed, so loud you almost fell over again.

Lucifer nodded his head, hand placed thoughtfully on chin. "Spring will likely come early this year. I'll inform Diavolo."

Asmodeus launched himself at your spot on the bed. Before you could stop him, he had you lifted in the air. "You're the best!"

Everybody clapped. Leviathan was going on about "the springtime of youth" finally arriving, while Beelzebub said they'd all have to get hot pot one last time before it went out of season. Important context about what just happened was clearly missing, but you've learned that sometimes you need to just go with the flow.

You dangled ragdoll-style from Asmodeus' hands while he did a little dance and wondered if they'd all let you go back to sleep.

You know they won't. Happy Groundhog Day! Looks like irl we've got 6 more weeks of winter.

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 35. 7.83 inches

warning: they talk about dicks because they’re men

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

[peachesvault]

Style Guide || y/n

Staples!! Nails - slouchy bags

Outfits!! Jeans - Oversized Tee

Shoes!! Sambas - Boots - Sneakers

Funks!! Little clothing details - Jewlerry - bracelets

Smells like - Citrus, Floral blend, Vanilla, Sakura

Style guide inspired by @/cupidsblonde (I hope this is okay! Please dm me if not!)

[forthefictionallesbians]

Mol gaped as the random local chat feature finished selecting their conversation partner. 6 trophies. Whoever PrecociousPearl35 was, they had 6 little animated trophies bobbing and glittering after their grey username. Mol glanced at their own screen name, also in grey, trailed by a few animated decals for the various in-person community events they had attended. None half so prestigious as even a single trophy. Those were only awarded to those who took part in one of the locally televised invite-only domestication games, and won.

Only a few thousand independents per planet had a chance to compete in those games each year, pulled from those who had survived the most sub-events. At that level, it was uncommon for there to be even a single survivor. Those who did often became famous. Mol had memorized the names of every single winner their homeworld had produced in the last five years. The fact that the list had a single-digit number of names made it easy.

To have six trophies, while keeping the grey shade that was the only pallet option for independents on this overnet site, was unheard of. It was revolutionary. It should be sung of by independents (and even feralists) across the entire galaxy. So why had Mol never heard of this person?

A chat bubble rose from the bottom of the screen, pushing up the TOS niceness reminder and suggested conversation starters, given by a cutesy animated floret leashed to a smiling affini. As if anyone needed a reminder that nothing was private from humanity's conquerors.

> haiii!!! how r u??

Mol blinked. It was a much more floret-y opening than they'd expected. Pushing through the flash of surprise, they responded.

> Hello! I'm doing alright, thank you.

> Did you really beat the affini at their own game 6 times???

The answer was undoubtedly a yes; the amount of dedication the affini put into accurately tracking and verifying even the most trivial of information meant there was no way it could have been given incorrectly. But Mol needed to hear it from their-- they moused over the stranger's profile, checking pronouns and bio info while waiting for them to finish a response-- from her mouth.

> yeeee!!! m just 2 fast 4 the feenies heeheehee ;)

Mol would be lying if they said the overly cutesy speak wasn't grating on them slightly. They already dealt with it from the florets that surrounded them, manning the shops, flooding the parks, flirting with each other on every tram and street corner. Even many independents had begun adopting it, as their culture and population alike were rapidly assimilating under the Compact. Mol had slipped into it themself on occasion, a secret shame they kept from their current friend group.

They found it frustratingly incongruous that this paragon of human resilience, someone who had made it through six of the propagandistic gauntlets of drugs and snuggles, would sink to floret-speak. It seemed beneath one like her. Not that Mol was really in a place to criticize anything Precocious did when it came to resisting the affini's mental hegemony, they supposed. Six wins.

Regardless of her mode of speaking, each trophy proved her to be a uniquely talented individual. If this wasn't a place she held firm, then surely she had some other secret to her victories. Mol slid their cursor over each trophy's glimmering icon in turn, each one giving off a shower of particle effects before displaying an info box.

There wasn't any common theme they could see, and each game was different. Implant Imposter. Hedge Game. Enter the Vault. Hide and Domesticate. Treaty Tumult. Sunlight Sprint, Nightlight Nap. Each one relying on a variety of skills, from stealth to raw speed to timed contract parsing. All done on a level that would have been locally broadcast, with the infotips helpfully providing planet/system info. She had been trouncing affini across half the old Terran Accord. How had Mol not heard of her? Precocious should have been famous across the sector!

> That is so impressive, P!! How in the world did you manage to show them what for so many times without getting snatched up? > o its ez! but its also a biiiiiiiiig secrettttt ;)))))

> Something you can't discuss on the overnet?

It would make sense if not. Every message was parsed by AI and affini agents alike for hints of feralism, lack of self care, or even loneliness. If Precocious' success had come from bypassing their checks to compete while biologically augmented, or--

> nahhh the feenis kno. u cant tell any othr independents tho ;)))))))))))))))))

What? Even with the escalating size of the winky emoticon repulsing them slightly, Mol needed to understand.

> Why not? > becuz it woud brake their brains tee hee and i wanna b there 2 c it when it happns

A shiver ran down Mol's spine. What was that supposed to mean? They double checked Precocious' nameplate, mousing over it again to confirm that, yes, she was an independent. The wrongness of this conversation was starting to weigh on them. Something wasn't adding up. Were they being tricked somehow? Quickly, they opened another window and typed out a quick search before responding.

> Okay. I promise not to tell anyone. What is it?

The response bubble appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again. Anxiety settled over them. Mol took the time to browse the news articles and forum posts their search had pulled up, all verifying the validity of the website's trophy icons. Each win, being celebrated with particular gusto by the local affini, because-- with a satisfying woosh, a notification of messages received popped up on Mol's screen.

> its becuz im fighting 2 stay with my mistress!! sinse she hasnt florted me yet its a fun risk 4 both uv us!!!!! so i hav 2 try extra extra extra hard 4 mistress sinse im just her ward > and then when i win and the othr sophies c that the only winnr is a neerly florted ward they giv up and find mistresses ov there own!! eh heh heh heh > mistress says hi cutie btw!!! i bet ur very cute

Mol sat with the response for a long moment. They felt like their brain wasn't working. The flash-forged hopes and expectations of two heady minutes ago were shattering around them. Was this really it? Was this the quickest, smartest, most cunning and athletic individual humanity had to offer? A barely-not floret driven by the risk of losing herself to an unfamiliar mistress? Obviously not, domestication games only measured a tiny sliver of human attributes, and could come down to luck as much as anything else. But even so, Mol couldn't help but feel something shift inside them. Suddenly, the bold proclamations of their new friends, that the human spirit would always be best expressed in independence and isolation from their conquerors, seemed frivolous.

Their chest ached slightly. Mol had never been more aware that they were a sophont under the Affini Compact, using their tech, benefiting from their veterinary care, destined inevitably for domestication. Whether they were claimed now or when they became too old and feeble to argue for independence, there was no escape. Not for them, not for Precocious, not for their entire race. This was the future of humanity. A deep tremble ran through them. From the screen, another message popped up.

> did u break 2, Mol? :P

[yandereworlds]

「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」

˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.

My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.

We started this blog because we had numerous ideas for yandere characters. Given my background as an artist and Rose's talent as a writer, it seemed like a natural fit. I'm primarily creating this post to serve as a guide for navigating the blog. I've received numerous asks about accessing the characters' backgrounds, information, as well as questions regarding my bots, projects, commissions, socials, and other related topics. You can use this post as a reference FAQ or as a comprehensive guide to streamline your experience on the blog. 

Find that you enjoy our work? Consider leaving a tip, it’s greatly appreciated and helps the blog. Also, if you’d like to be able to be more involved with our creative process and engage with the community, you can join our Discord server here. 

╰┈➤ ASK RULES - OPEN!

✦ Absolutely no NSFW asks. This blog is 16+ for a reason, so obviously, we will be trashing asks related to sexual topics. 

✦ We’re allowed not to answer certain asks. If you’ve been spamming the same ask and we haven’t responded to it for months, it’s most likely because we aren't comfortable doing so OR we’ve already answered an ask similar to yours.

✦ We will not be answering any asks regarding self-harm, eating disorders, extreme gore, noncon or any topics that could be associated with them. 

✦ Finally, we kindly request your patience. We understand that it may take some time to address each individual ask, as we both have busy lives and there may be periods when we don't post asks for weeks. Please refrain from rushing us, and rest assured, we will eventually get to your ask. 

╰┈➤ YANDERE MASTERLISTS 

Original Yandere Masterlist

Fandom Yandere Masterlist

╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI

If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.

It's worth noting that I'm currently on a temporary hiatus from Character AI due to site complications. Consequently, most of my recent bots can be found on Janitor AI, where I'm more active. Before visiting either site, please be aware that Janitor AI is intended for users aged 18 and above, whereas Character AI caters to a younger audience. In other words, minors stay off JanitorAI!

My Character AI profile - 1, 2, 3, 4

My Janitor AI profile (18+) - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Wish to request a bot from me? You can find the information here.

╰┈➤ ART COMMISSION INFO - OPEN

Pretty self explanatory. If you're interested in commissioning artwork from me, simply click the link to access my commission page. Currently, I'm accepting payments through both PayPal and Cashapp. Below is a brief FAQ regarding my commissions. Should you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me!

Can you draw my OC with your characters?

✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.

Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?

✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.

Can you draw a comic for me?

✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.

[lookinghalfacorpse]

/dsmp /rp

cuddling with dream and the many possibilities, scenarios, and obstacles you may encounter. don't let him read this. a guide by technoblade.

i'm about to blow your minds with how complex this is. i'm a master at my art (sleeping), alright? i'm an experienced craftsman (at sleeping), i perform at my best in all locations (with naps, mostly) (yes, even in the obsidian box), and i'm very good at cuddling. i'm practically built for it. i would never, ever think about writing a guide about how to cuddle with philza minecraft (or anyone else, really), but this squirmy little guy is different.

-the best approach is the Sudden Drop. walk over to him, no matter what he's doin, and just drop onto him and stay there. spare no body weight. he'll probably think it's a bit funny, and that's why it's the best one. he's more likely to humor something if it's a good bit, and having a giant piglin treat you like a sofa cushion is a GREAT bit. he'll laugh.

-(the second best approach is when he's upset or panicking or crying, and you can see him grabbing onto himself. normally that means... idk, that he wants held? Or he wants to hold something? i'll sit down, slowly, and wrap 'im up. he'll latch onto me. hard. fingers twisting my fur-- the whole nine yards)

-otherwise, he's shy with his hands. a few times now, i've grabbed his hands and put them somewhere on me because he was just, like, hovering them awkwardly. like, cmon, man. i'm laying my whole body on you, what part of your hands do you think is gonna bother me.

-but, come to think of it, sometimes he's afraid of my hands, too. if i move them in the middle of the night. if i lay them somewhere sensitive, like his sides or the small of his back.

-another scenario: he might approach me, too. i thought it'd never happen. you know that feeling with the stray dog is finally close enough to sniff your hand and you stay super still so you don't scare it? That's how i felt. he normally just walks over and leans on my shoulder, and i still can't tell if that's all he wants or if he's asking me for a better cuddle. more experimentation is needed here.

-location is key! in all scenarios, near the wall is best. i think of myself as a secondary wall and kinda close him in- if sam were lookin', he'd only see me.

-(he's so little. he's SO little. was he always this thin? i'm gonna crush the kid.)

-expect the unexpected. sometimes he'll hit you. sometimes he'll start to cry, and sometimes that means you need to let him go, and sometimes that means you need to hold tighter. it's complicated. but everyone needs it, especially dudes bein tortured in a box, so it's worth the effort.

-(sometimes i need it, too. i'll admit it, i'm scared.)

[yelenok]

The howling wind, the rain pouring into his eyes, and a terrible, soulless metallic voice… Ford grabbing him by the arm and lifting him with one sharp movement out of the mud in which he had slipped… more disheveled than ever, with packets of salted peanuts sticking out of his pockets here and there… Having forced Dent to grasp some phallic black thing, he took his hand firmly in his own and looked straight into Arthur's eyes. Dent had never seen so much despair, horror and anticipation in those eyes at once.

"So is this really the end of the world?" Arthur stammered, barely able to stand - not so much from the three pints of beer Ford had made him drink, but from the fear that had paralysed his muscles.

"Yes," he read from Prefect's lips before they were pressed tightly against his own.

🎵 Weyes Blood - Andromeda

UPD: expanded the drabble by a couple of pages. You can read it here (PG-13, First kiss, Fluff, Life Saving)

[00127am]

"i think i'm in love with you," "... who are you?"

@ sidecharacter'sguidetoromance to put it plain and simple: you don't have time for romance. not between your residency and your coursework that is. and you certainly don't have time to entertain campus crush, park wonbin's incessant, anything but romantic, confessions. unfortunately for you, this simple fact doesn't seem to deter him.

@ information [🚃] pretty boy! park wonbin & med student! afab! reader genre fluff, comedy, uni au, strangers to lovers, crush at first sight, bin is head over heels, mutual pining, campus crush wonbin who yearns and top student yn who doesn't have time for this, idiots in love warnings cursing status wip! ⤷ taglist always open!

@ masterlist @ ♡♡♡♡ @ soundtrack

follow others like this! playlists. yn 𐦍 bin

user sidecharacter'sguidetoromance's posts i. an acute case of tachycardia ii. coming soon!

🧾 © 00127am 2024

[bug-in-a-cage]

Occasionally the Culture and the Affini Compact bump into each other in deep space. For the most part, the Culture is...intrigued, albeit not repulsed, by the Affini Compact's whole deal, but prefers to maintain a delineation between the two societies.

Following a few misunderstandings (involving high-powered weaponry that would make most civilisations roll over and crawl back into the sea), the GCU Shameless Exhibitionist presided over the signing of an accord amounting to "It takes all sorts to make a universe, Kumbaya, and all that", with the solemn promise that neither civilisation would try to annex the other, provided the parties follow certain stipulations.

It turns out that a small, but significant percentage of Culture citizens rather like being kept as pets, and the Affini Compact is endeared by the novelty of a spacefaring society with a standing army and a commitment to doing right by people.

Bless their hearts.

[adddddiiii]

Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?

Author's Note: I don't know how I feel abt this 🫠

Contents: Ravi Singh x reader, half smau-half text

Warnings: drunkenness, slight angst, my English, not really proofread, ooc

And that's how Ravi Singh ended up dozing on your couch. He was super drunk, which surprised you. You'd dated him for almost two years and he'd never even looked at alcohol then.

You sat in an armchair, wondering if you should wake him up so you could send him home. A small snore caught you off guard and your gaze shifted to his sleeping form.

You hadn't seen him in weeks, and he looked different. The light layer of hair by his chin told you he hadn't shaved in a few days. His hair, ever the bird's nest, looked even more messy.

Your thoughts drifted again to the messy break up that had concluded your relationship. It was stupid. You kept shutting each other out from your problems so as to not 'bother' the other. One thing led to another, to an argument, to you slamming your bedroom door on his face, to him leaving your house with his car keys clenched hard in his palm.

He'd tried to text you later, to fix things, but you were stubborn. Stubborn. That was one of the things he loved about you. So determined, never taking any trashtalk from anyone.

"Hi."

You jerked back in surprise and your knee hit the coffee table. Ow.

Ravi flinched, "Sorry." He slowly sat up while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Um, how are you feeling?"

"Like hell."

You snorted. "Not surprised. You were completely wasted when I found you."

He looked down. "Yeah, er- sorry about that. Really."

"'S fine."

His gaze finds yours, and you can't stop looking into his gorgeous face. I used to kiss that face. Used to be last thing I saw before I fell asleep. Used to-

"I should go," he ran a hand through his hair.

"Hm-? Oh. Yeah. Probably."

He stood up with a groan and his face scrunched up with discomfort. He looked at you once more and walked to the door. "Hey, uh, sorry about this whole thing."

"It's no problem."

"Not just what happened now." You looked at him in confusion.

"I mean, the entire thing. Everything. The argument."

Oh.

"That's okay, Ravi. Go home."

"No, bab-" he sighed, "Sorry. Can't call you that."

You stared at him and he stared back. "I meant what I said in the text," he blurted out. "I miss you."

He took a step towards you. "God, I do and I would be lying to myself if I said I didn't. And- and I'm sorry if I made you hate me, but if there is even a sliver of a chance that you still like me, I will wait for you. I will always wait for you."

You didn't say anything, couldn't, you stared at him with your mouth. You still loved him. Of course you did. But you wouldn't speak, dammit.

He sighed at your blank expression and opened the door to step outside. Nonononono-

"Ravi-! Ravi, wait! Hey!" You were both outside now, in the middle of the night. It was deadly silent and you were almost sure he could hear your heart pounding.

"I love you."

[yuechicake]

Though everyone on Chase’s pirate crew is used to their captain making risky gambles, picking up a siren might be one of his worst decisions so far.

(commissioned from oderu)

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Found

After some thinking I decided to write this little thing :3

I was thinking between this drabble and one that was about Dream and decided to go for this one.

Mostly because the timing for later in the series is just so much FUNNIER if this one is done first. (you guys will understand later)

First Drabble and original prompt by @spotaus Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No beta and no edits. We jsut going.

*---------------------*

Killer sighs as he rubs the sweat of his skull. You would think it is cooler now than the summer but it hardly matters when you are physically active.

Ugh. He hates cleaning duty.

Still he looks around the area he is cleaning up and grins proudly. They had realised that the decliding cliff was facing the south meaning it had so many sun hours.

Horror had offered they could grow grapes using the cliff side and because those where plants that liked to climb up they could use the vertical area to create more space!

Also leaving the flat area for them to do soemthing else with. Killer had been thinking about trying to convince the others to agree to animals but he may need to plead a bit more for that idea.

Still he looks over at Cross nad Horror, both are setting up trellises along the side to help start to grow. All preparation work for their first season of course.

Tehy hadn't quite decided what they would make of the grapes, maybe even just sell the grapes themselves. But they will figure it out. Killer had offered the obvious wine but he hadn't been too excited about it himself. Seemed like a bad idea to make wine when you have a babybones running around.

Even so. Tehy aren't in a hurry. They first need to manage to grow some to begin with.

Killer stretches his limbs when he hears a strange sizzle. Killer blinks and looks back up the side of the cliff before looking at Cross and Horror confused. Both looking up themselves as they no doubt heard it as well.

They assend their, newly repaired, stairs and get to their normal area. It looks fine but Dust is also out and looking around wiht a frown on his face.

Killer gets to his side "Ngihtmare?"

Dust hums "in the nest. Sleeping with his bat." he looks around again and shoots Killer a look "sound?"

Killer shrugs, he has no idea. Cross shoots upright as he looks up "oh no..."

Killer looks up himself and feels himself freeze. becuase he knows those glitching effects. The sizzling gets louder and with the sound of ripping fabric the very universe opens up.

Moment later a figure they all know appears.

Error blinks as he looks around before spotting them. He huffs annoyed "hello abominations. I am looking for your boss." he looks around and frowns "Why are you in this dump?"

Killer freezes. Waht do they do?! Normally it was Nightmare who contacted Error about things he wanted or shifts or jobs or anything. Error coming to them?! Unusual! Also! How the fuck?!

Killer huffs as he crosses his arms "We are busy. How did you even find us here?" Did they leave traces? Did they mess up? Do they still need to move around again?!

Error looks smug as he jumps down from the roof and lands in front of them soundlessly "I obviously looked into the code of the multiverse, antivoid and void."

Killer feels a part of him relax. While most of them can in someway check a universe's code. Checking the code of the multiverse itself is a skill only Error can reliably do.

Error looks very annoyed as he crosses his arms "Do you ahve any idea how long it took me to find you? It is so annoying! Now. I got to talk business with nightmare. Where is that octopus?" he looks around.

Dust growls and glares at him "leave."

Error blinks and tilts his skull "Since when do you talk?"

Dust keeps glaring "Nightmare doesn't want to see you. Leave. You are not welcome."

Killer must admit Dust has guts but also Dust not the time!

Killer tries to nudge Dust further back but Dust refuses to move from his spot. Oh shit.

Error glares at Dust "You dare try and get in my way? The destroyer!?" he chackles as he raises a hand. Strings slowly appearing in the air "I will show you what happens if you do. Now. How about you-"

"Wait!"

Killer feels his skull freeze as he looks at the door. Oh no.

Error frowns and turns before looking confused at Nightmare. A large error sign in Error's sockets as he just stands there frozen. Nightmare doesn't say a word but just keeps looking at the other god.

Error blinks and slowly turns to Killer and points over his shoulder "you abominations made a tiny abomination?" Error looks utterly confused.

Killer almost wants to laugh at that notion but he just isn't sure what to say. What can he say to make Error leave them be? More importantly what can he say that would keep Error from telling everyone about what he saw here? Where could they even go if Error can just check the code of the multiverse to find them!?

Before Killer cna say anything else Nightmare takes a step closer. A very panicked sound leaves Cross before he just sprints by Error to stand between him and Nightmare. Keepign his arms spread in front of Nightmare as a living shield.

Error frowns at him and studies Nightmare.

Nightmare gulps before he has that same tiny grumpy stubborn look on his face that Killer just adores. Nightmare huffs as he crosses his arms "What? I thought you wanted to talk?"

Error stares and then he takes a step back "what the fuck?"

Killer mutters it before he cans top himself "language" look they all had just been trying to fix their own cursing a bit but it is habit for all of them.

Error dismisses him as he takes a step closer. Cross summons a weapon and growls at Error "Not a step closer. you can talk from a distance."

Error rubs his sockets. Stares at Nightmare. Rubs his sockets again. Stares at Nightmare again. Then he calls up the code screen for this universe. Looks at Nightmare again. the he looks at Killer and just mutters "What?"

Well would you look at that. Aparently even the destroyer hadn't seen everything in the multiverse.

Dust takes this chance to get to Ngihtmare as well and pick him up. he huffs "What is wrong? You are acting like you have never seen a child before."

Error stands there before waving at Nightmare "That is Ngihtmare! The Nightmare?!"

Horror just crosses his arms and raises a brow "so?"

Error blinks and the error messages around him get a bit worse before he waves at Ngihtmare again "So!? Since when is he a child?!"

Killer grins himself even if his soul pulses quickly. He makes a show of leaning against one of their new fenches "I mean. For a while now. Since his birth. Then again his age was frozen when he corrupted so..." he shrugs.

Error stares at him "No?! He wasn't a child?! He was... You know! Adult? dripping goop and tentacles?! Remind you of anything?!"

Killer raises a brow and shrgus "yeah. Turns out? Not an adult. Just a babybones with magical god apples making a corruption shield around him and temporarily giving him the body he needed to do his god thing." Killer figures it is fine to tell Error. Error will be able to find out anyway and honestly they don't need Error being mad at them for lying.

Error stares at him. Looks back at Ngihtmare. then looks back at Killer for a moment "you aren't shitting me? You are fucking serious?"

Killer sends him a look "dude. seriously. there is a six year old here. Try to not swear." he shrugs and walks over to join Cross and Dust, and Horror for that matter. Killer continues speaking as he walks "It is hardly needed to curse the whole time."

Nightmare shoots him a look and mutters "hypocrit."

Killer grins "you know my tiny boss!" he grins and pokes the tiny cheek. Nightmare looks away embarresed and flustered. mh... weird.. normally he doesn't mind the poking...

Error frowns as he looks to the side before looking at Nightmare "So what now? No goop?"

Ngihtmare glances at Error for a moment before nodding. It takes him a bit to find the right words. Nightmare still speaks softly but with how quiet it is his voice still seems loud "I... I am sitll a god... I think... Just not of balance anymore. I can't do stuff with that anymore..."

Error stares at them for a moment. looks around the area. Then looks down thinking. there is a small loading bar showing his thought process.

It hits full and he straightens "well... I am leaving." he turns to the side adn starts to mess with a coding window again.

Killer frowns "That is it?!"

Error pauses and shrgus "obviously? I was looking for Nightmare, you know, king of negativity and god of balance and all that sh-... stuff..." he glances at them before looking back at the window "Nightmare isn't that anymore. So I will have to figure something else out."

Cross looks anxious as he steps forwards "No one can know! If they know...." he rubs his hands "Just... please..."

Error pauses again and shrugs "Don't see the point in sharing. After all. He isn't the god of negativity. And when people ask about him they want to find the gooped up bas- guy who had all powerful magic and abilities... Why give them the location of a child and his group of babysitters?" and Error disappears through a portal.

A long silence.

They... are fine?

That... that was pretty much him saying he wouldn't tell anyone right?

Like... They are good?

Killer glances at the others and they all share slightly unsure looks. Nightmare however looks at where Error disappeared.

Nightmare just stares before getting a very tiny grin as he hides his face a bit and mutters "he is cool..."

Killer freezes. Nightmare's tiny blush. the embarresment. the way he tried to looks tough and controlled and cool... before when Ngihtamre always searched Error out. The fact Nightmare was always very willing and easy about helping Error even if it hardly helped his own goal.

No.

No absolutely not!

Killer turns to Nightmare and makes him look at him. Ngihtmare huffs and looks annoyed while Killer stares at him "No."

Dust shoots him a look "Killer what are you even saying-"

Killer continues as he stares at Nightmare "No. No crushing on Error. I don't care he is technically the only other god who was nice to you or was understanding about your work. You are not allowed to have a crush on him. He is dangerous and crazy and you can do so much better."

Ngihtamre has a lsightly panicked look on his face as he looks away and mutters "I don't... he is jsut..."

Cross blinks before laughing "Killer calm down. It is just a little crush. Kids have those all the time."

Killer shakes his skull "Nightmare will evnetually grow up again!" may take them ages or not. Hell they don't know how gods grow up but still! Killer isn't allowing it! No way! He looks back at Ngihtmare "You are too young and too tiny to even think about liking others like that so stop that. And even if you do start thinking like that WHEN you are an apropriate age! You aren't allowed to like him because he is crazy and you deserve so much better!"

Horror chuckles "what is the appropriate age?"

Killer's mind blanks before he answers "When he is thirty! Physically! AT LEAST!" and even then Killer isn't sure about it.

Cross snorts "you aren't even thirty... physically."

Killer huffs "And I am a bad example. We don't do what i do." he stares at Ngihtmare.

Nightmare just looks down embarresed before pushign his face back into Dust's shoulder.

Killer will accept that answer for now. But maybe he will need to look through the stuff they have. Clearly no romance novels or movies are allowed anymore. He will have to check it all. Honestly what are those people thinking?! Showing romance to such young minds!

Cross snorts and leans closer to Dust "Somehow I did not expect Killer to be the anti-date parent. Yet here we are."

Dust hums "same. expected it to be me."

Horror chuckles as he leads them back inside.

They still remain watchful and pack some emergancy bags. If they notice even the tiniest sign that their location is compromised they are leaving. They give Crop and update and ask him to watch out as well.

But..

Nothing happens.

Not even a peep.

Nothing.

days go by and they slowly start to relax and get into their own rhythm again. Cleaning and repairing stuff. Getting ready for the next spring and talking with some town folk.

Today is a day that Killer, Dust and Nightmare are just laying in their nest watching an old western movie on the repaired tv, thank you Dust.

It is nice and calm untill.

sizzling.

Killer shoots upright and a small portal opens up. only for a black skeleton hand to drop something through it before it closes again.

It had fallen right in Nightmare's lap and Ngihtmare blinks confused at the small hastly packed present.

Dust looks over his shoulder and a check later and it seems fine. Dust nudges Nightmare and Nightmare first opens the small card.

Killer leans close and reads wiht them.

It is just a card saying 'so he knows which side to aim towards when he grows up.'. Which, weird.

Nightmare blinks at it before opening the present and he lets out a tiny gasp.

Killer stares as he sees a small woolen doll octopus. It is bright purple with a tiny grumpy face on it.

Nightmare feels the plush carefully as he stares at it with pure awe. A tiny purr starts to leave their baby bones.

Killer is going to have to make plans in advance to make sure that WHEN Nightmare is a teen he doesn't try and hang out with Error. Killer will also have to figure out how to successfully threaten a god.

On his 'to do' list it goes.

*---------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Also Also

Error finds them

gang: *panic*

Error leaves again because whatever but leaves a little plush for Nightmare.

Gang: ... okay.

Nightmare hugging the plush: I did always think he was real cool... *slightly wishful stare*

Killer realises baby has a first crush: ... *PANIC TIMES FIVE* absolutely not!

[shurisneakers]

how are y'all regularly updating series AND writing like drabbles AND one shots AND answering comments AND answering asks. I can barely focus on one thing and some of y'all are out here posting like 3 times a week

[ctheathy]

*whisper* I missed you fawning over Banzai’s fingerssss~

U can delete this if u want lol

choke him he likes it

Oh, you BET >=} <3<3

⚠️ Suggestive themes warning ⚠️

You could feel the fur of his tails tickling against your skin as you had a tight grip on his wrists. His tails swayed excitedly in your face, caressing your cheeks as he had a smug grin on his face. “You look so cute when you're on top of me, my dear~”

“You are so beautiful. I swear you're the reason why the sun shines in the sky, the reason why the flowers bloom every spring, and why the oceans are calm.... You are far better than the heavens themselves. You're so gorgeous.”

damn flirt. Without mercy, you just shoved him right back into the bedsheets as soon as he tried to get up from his position to get a better look at you, making him let out a grunt with a big blush on his face, still having that shit-eating smirk.

He bit at his lower lip as soon as his head got pushed back into the softness of the sheets, his breathing seeming to get a whole lot more heavier by that simple act alone. “Please... Please... Completely destroy my body, ruin me... I'm yours” he spoke in between pants, he was already getting one heck of an arousal by your dominating nature. You raised an eyebrow as you saw him biting away at his lips to try and keep himself from losing himself, but you weren't having any of his petty attempts. He's gotta learn the consequences of teasing you with those stupid fingers of his.

You leaned in, your warm breath teasing him as you whispered something in his ears, making them twitch. “I’ll show you the definition of destroyed...~” you seductively spoke before you nicked his ear with your teeth, holding it for a bit before allowing it to slip once more. The act making some of your saliva to get in contact with his fur, making him shudder in a pleasant way. His breath was only getting more severe as you went on and he was turning a little in your grasp, but you had no intent on letting go. And honestly? Neither did he want you to, as he kept himself down like an obedient, submissive little partner

Your fingers ran over his fragile frame and every nerve in his body just seemed to be so very sensitive. He shivered with every little move you made on him, his breath hitching in his throat as his body was on high alert due to everything you were doing. The next time he looked up, you were almost on top of him once again as your noses were practically touching. Not like he minded, he had found the position and being able to examine your features like this quite pleasant. He spoke out your name, a bit breathless right about now.

“you are truly the God that walked down from mount Olympus. No other being can compare to you. You own my heart and my life, you own me. You are going to have me wrapped around your finger for eternity. You are a Deity worthy of worship. You are my master. My everything... Say ‘I love you’ or I'll die from the pain.”

He was quite literally ranting as he was panting like a dog, his eyes growing more and more into one of pure love the longer he looked at you. His body trembles with the intense longing for your touch, but you still resist and instead continue to stare at his frame. His body is literally quivering right now, as if begging for more. But Tails just can't find the words to ask. He wants to tell you how much he desires you, but he's just way too nervous. He's just left with his panting breaths. “Please... don't stop...p-please”

You leaned in once more, nibbling at the crook of his neck as you pressed your index finger into his throat. Slowly adding more pressure onto it and making him squirm lightly under you. But he still had that huge grin plastered on his face, making it pretty obvious that he was getting a thrill out of this. Tails lets out a long, satisfied moan as he wraps his hands around your neck. He is letting you fully take control of the situation and he looks so ready to let you decide where to go from here.

Your free fingers caressed him all over, all while your mouth was still teasing his neck with all your might. You made sure to give him breaks by allowing your index finger to cease pressure at times. But every time, he clung back onto your hand and pressed it right back down. Every time you stopped it felt like he was dying, like that was his one chance to feel happiness again... it felt so unfair! It was so cruel of you to tease him like this... and yet ...he loved it. He felt every inch of you marking his neck, giving him all of your love and attention. That spot on his neck was forever imprinted in his memory. Tails is still panting, trying to maintain his thoughts. He feels incredibly overwhelmed with emotions right now due to just your presence alone, but now it seems like he is going to get even more. His head starts to get light as he doesn't even try fighting back anymore. He seems to be on the verge of completely submitting himself to you.

“No... no... please, not more. Just a little more, I beg for the love of god. I can't take more of this. Oh god, oh god. Yes, yes, yes.”

His sharp teeth bite away at his lower lip as he stares at you with wide eyes. He was now completely in the moment as he felt an explosion of pleasure course through his body. He wanted this moment to never end. He was going to make this moment last as long as possible. Every single part of his body seemed to be at attention and all thoughts were thrown out the window as he felt every cell in his body become excited. Tails’ mouth opens again as he lets out yet another moan of the sensation while feeling your touch. It's almost as if the man would do whatever you told him to do... just for a little more of your touch. He could see your eyes piercing through his soul, his eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to maintain eye contact with you in the midst of all the pleasure. You gave him an intimate kiss on the lips as you pressed down your finger once more, your fingertips teasing him by stroking him right under the neck. All while still being pinned down by you, it was too much...

But he wanted this.

Tails’ eyes roll in the back of his head as a pleasant and warm sensation of pleasure radiates throughout his entire body. He wraps his arms around you and returns the sensation. His lips find yours and he gives you a loving and meaningful smooch. Despite having an audience, he wanted to stay like this for eternity. He was content and for the first time in years, he felt at peace.

He loved you ...