#hell maybe she can prevent the dance itself

[merricatblackwoods]

oh look its hotd oc fixit fanfic idea i will never write (that is connected to my got fanfic i will also never write)

[geospiral]

Your alnst oc is so cool!!! can we hear more 0.o

Thank you for the ask!! The thing is, I don’t really know what to say about her, to be honest. That intro post was most of the things I had in mind for her in advance since she was originally just a small idea I had in the back of my head for a couple months. The only reason I actually made anything for her is because everyone else was making ALNST OCs, and I thought it would be fun to join.

However, I never really shared her worldviews when it comes to the competition itself, so I guess that's something I could talk about!

So Moran was selected by her Guardian to be the tragic sacrifice for Adam’s story because she sees Moran as expendable, and Moran has basically accepted the fact that she is going to die during her season in ALNST; neither has any faith that she can win, and honestly, she isn’t sure if she would even want to win if she had the chance. Moran knows that if you win ALNST, it is more than likely you are going to be thrown right back into the competition over and over again until you finally get snuffed out, and this is especially true in her case since she isn’t expected to succeed and most of her Guardian’s investments are in Adam and not in her. And Moran doesn’t want to be stuck in a cycle of damnation if she were to win but she is afraid of dying and a big part of her internal struggle is that of the nature of sacrifice and whether or not she should do it.

If Moran is going to be used as a plot device to elevate Adam’s story with the false narrative that she wanted to train and signed up for ALNST to gain his attention and love, then she at least wants the opportunity to die for someone she actually cares about while shes there or at the very least someone she knew on some level. This is basically a fantasy for her; she craves the idea of taking her hopeless situation and making something meaningful with it by making dying her own choice in a sense AND to have that person know that her dying for them was an act that she performed of her own volition.

The problem comes with the fact that Moran is a thinker and tends to philosophize about…almost everything if she can and this fantasy is no exception. 

So Moran questions herself: when it comes to something like ALNST, is it more moral to do her best so that she can keep experiencing this kind of hell continuously so that someone else doesn’t? To put someone else out of their misery instead of her own if she has the power too? Or is it actually better to go through with sacrificing herself because there might be the tiniest chance that the person can be saved (is that even possible? Who does the rebellion pick and choose? Will they even show up? Maybe the person's Guardian will have the heart to not sign them up again)? Moran likes to think that sacrificing herself would be the lesser of two evils, but she knows that she would still be committing an evil in a way if she did so. If she were to win the whole competition, then there wouldn't be a chance that anyone else would have to be a toy unable to stop dancing. But to reject her own humanity like that…With blood on her hands that she maybe could have prevented... She can’t do that. 

Moran has no idea what she's supposed to do when she gets on that stage, but what she does know is that she’s scared.

[starredforlife]

Hii I asked the question about the Allupa header. when I see the piece I am most reminded of alexandre cabanel’s Fallen Angel (mostly because of lupa’s expression) so that really informs my reading of it. I see Fallen Angel as a humanization of the devil who looks kind of petulant, vulnerable and guarded in the painting. For me, it challenges the understanding of Lucifer as a symbol of evil. I connect this to the werewolf who is traditionally a threat/abomination. Though I did not think about this before you pointed it out in your response, I can see Al as the Angel protecting or healing Lupa as the damned/maybe traumatized creature, and though Lupa’s pose is protective/possessive there is a sense of vulnerability/defensiveness just as in fallen Angel. I would literally love for you to dig into the symbolism in their relationship in the story/how their monster-types relate in-text. I find these characters and their story very intriguing! Sorry for how long this is lol

i'm gonna cry djkfkdl thank you for an artistic analysis my life goal is complete now i love u <3 <3 and no thank you so much for keeping it long

I do love your interpretation of it a lot because, like I said, it could go either way. I didn't even have Fallen Angel in mind but I can totally see that comparison!

I don't even know where to begin with them tbh there's just so much and it's all like, a jumbled board with the strings and pictures. but not all of the dots are quite connected yet, so i will try my best to surmise here. so much under the read-more, I'm so sorry

OH AND ALSO B4 YOU READ IT ALL here is their playlist it kind of answers a couple questions as well

I think for this piece it's mostly important to know that both Lupa and Al share a fatal flaw of sorts: they are both very self-sacrificing, in their own ways. There is a periods in their stories where the other feels safer literally dying for the other person than confronting their feelings for them. They have to hold to each other, metaphorically and physically, so that they don't let themselves go. It's not necessarily healthy, these kinds of stakes, and it does sort itself out eventually. But around this time, it boils down to: If I told you how much I care, it would only hurt us both.

So they cling to each other because they can't say anything. The circumstances of plot prevent them from getting together like a normal couple, and their own complicated past prevents them from simply kissing and telling, ykwim? Al liked Lupa first, and had to overcome a million hurdles to even admit it to herself, then Lupa got a boyfriend, then she breaks up with him and Al moves on, and then Lupa falls for Al, and at the same time they're finding out that the other person sees them, fully, as they are, and it's completely overwhelming and frustrating. But through it they hold each other. They would go through hell to make sure the other person makes it out the other side. Lupa would tear into God himself to make sure Al is safe. Al would go against her own divinity to make sure Lupa remains intact. so not to be That Person but they are Running Up That Hill (Deal with God) in essence bc I'm lame and I love that song so much

Their entire relationship is a duality in my head. A wolf and a sheep or a dog and a ram, beauty and the beast, devil and angel, the divine and the sinful, lion and lamb, healing and sickness, promises and lies. Sun and Moon! ETC ETC They are not confined to one definition, and their growth comes from being loved for what the other sees in them. Lupa and Al always dance on the line between duality. So that's why this piece is ambiguous--it's really just that they are one being, almost, in their monsterhood.

What's an angel to a werewolf? It's almost the same as an alien to us--bright, and unfathomable. It's sunlight on the night of the full moon. Their touch can burn as much as it can heal, and that's the choice of the holy to make. And Al always chooses to heal.

A werewolf to an angel is what the Earth is to anyone fond of her. A representation of the indomitable human spirit--uncontrollable to any god. Lupa's stubborn pursuit of freedom and indulgence at any means terrifies Al at first, but she grows to understand and admire why Lupa chases these things. There's a wilderness to Lupa that's just as incomprehensibly addicting as Al's proximity to godhood.

SO in terms of the art piece. The point was to make it seem like Lupa is holding back--we don't know from what. She's defensive, but restrained. Without Al there, we don't know what the image would actually be. But the even more important point is that Al doesn't appear afraid at all. You could look at this and see, at a glance, damsel in distress, and the terrible wolf that took her away. But you look at the expressions and you notice that she's calm--almost in control. And under that subversion, the wolf is the one that's tamed. Maybe Al's the wolf in sheep's clothing. Maybe Lupa protects the viewer. Maybe Al's the beating heart of a beast and Lupa's the cage around it. In the end, they are entwined, body and soul and spirit.

The colors contrast, and were chosen on purpose. Green for the ties to forest and monsters, and orange for a too-bright warmth, closer to fire than the sun. Somewhat dangerous, and a little unstable. Typically Lupa has more blues and Al has more yellows, mellowing out their appearances a bit. But in this moment they're unpredictable. So they hold each other. It all comes back to that, always. Holding and clinging tight and not letting the other go. I'm going to go fuckin nuts

There's so muchharghdvjsfk like. Al was a ghost as well. A literal spirit, detached from herself, and when she met Lupa, Lupa was extremely Herself, individualized and "confident" (traumatized to the point of projecting a tough personality). And then she loses her lycanthropy and becomes, in a sense, a ghost herself. And Al returns and she's everything she ever wanted to be--a hero, a healer. It's all !! SOO MUCH that's too much to talk abt though. you'll just have to watch the show or comic or w/ever eventually <3

BUT again thank you so much for the analysis and thoughts it truly means so so much <3 I'm so happy people like digging into my art like this it really makes me happy

[anothanobody]

Phantom Anon 🎭

I’m super hungover as I’m writing this, so I hope it still makes some sense and it’s not totally convoluted.

This scene is pretty dialogue heavy, and I really don’t have the lyric ability to write everything, so every time they talk here it’s not necessarily what they say word-per-word, but me trying to convey what they feel and/or mean. Basically what happens here is the start of their romantic relationship.

Eren questions Mikasa as to who Jean was, and why was she dancing with him. Eren already knows Jean from spying on him talking to Mikasa in her dressing room, as per my last ask. Mikasa is surprised by this but answers the truth, Jean is just a childhood friend, someone she likes and hasn’t seen in a long time. She danced with him because she was single and he was nice, and because she didn’t know Eren would make an appearance in the ball. “But do you love him? Dont’t you see he loves you?” Eren asks. “No, I don’t love him at all!” she answers. “Then will you promise me you’ll never see him again?”

Mikasa is taken aback by this. Here I don’t know what’s the best choice. If Eren goes vocally possessive and tells her she belongs to him and only him, that he doesn’t want him with any other man. Maybe have him ask “what am I to you?”. But also I like the idea of Mikasa voicing out her love for him, telling him she loves him, and not Jean, that she’ll choose him if that’s what he wants.

Anyway, either if it’s Eren telling Mikasa he loves her, or if it’s Mikasa him she loves him, this is the moment she asks him to see his face. And more, if they can finally be together. They danced, they almost kissed, didn’t this mean to him what it meant to her? And Eren sighs hopelessly, he says he loves her, but they can’t be together. It’s not that he rejects her here. But he explains that it’s impossible for them to be together because of his deformity. He says this is his stock in life: living in the catacombs, hidden from everyone, anonymous, in the darkness. “But there’s more to life than this!” Mikasa tries. “I’m sure, but not for me”. He explains his deformity is a curse, it will never let him be free. He thinks that his appearance is something from hell itself that prevents him from ever being happy. “If I accept you, Mikasa, you’ll be cursed too. You’ll never be free. I would only drag you into the darkness and into this hell that is my life. I love you, but please understand, if I do what you want, I’ll be condemning you to a life of horrors”.

She tries to deny it, that there’s always a way out. But Eren doesn’t believe it. “Mikasa, if you see what it is like underneath this mask, you’ll never want to see me again. You’ll be horrified like everyone always is. Those who have seen my face draw back in fear. I can’t afford to lose you. Please believe me when I say I use this mask for you”. And he’s all conflicted and turmoiled and it’s horrible for him because there is the love of his life and he’s jealous and angry, and even now he’s jealous of Jean because he could go and ask her to dance in front of everybody while Eren was hiding, and Jean can ask her to marry him and give her a life of luxury and Eren can’t and he’s so angry because the words aren’t coming out of his mouth the way he wants them too. It’s all going wrong in his head, he’s being forced to reject Mikasa because of his curse and his feelings are all over the place. She pleads him one more time. Eren shakes his head no, “This is the only thing I can’t give you, Mikasa”.

Mikasa is defiant. “Then kiss me and tell me your real name”, she says, “if you say you’ll give me anything else, then give me this”. Eren’s heartbeat is beating so loud. But what more can he do? He complies.

ohhhhh anon 🤧🤧🤧😭😭😭😭 this wrote down will be a fucking roller coaster of emotions 😭😭

[theladyismyshepard]

I love your characterizations of the daughters and all of your imagines they are fantastic! i was wondering would it be okay to request an imagine where the reader says to the daughters like during an argument or something,“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” and they all react to her in different ways? plz take ur time with the imagines and don’t feel pressured/rushed as ik writing should be something that is fun and not feel like a chore, thank you for all the content you have written so far :)

@frustratinglyinquisitive also maybe this could double as your #28 prompt? 🥺👉👈

Why Does Everyone Wanna Kiss Me So Bad?

The sunset was shining bright enough to sting and obscure eyesight, but that didn’t stop you from staring up into the pink and orange hues. Every time you blinked, the phantom flash of the sun still danced along your eyelids, leaving a glare across your vision. You weren’t even bothered by it, not when this numbness had clung itself to you, leaving you idle and just there. You flexed your fingers, and it rattled the chains locked around your wrists, bringing you back to where you were.

The boxed confinement you were trapped in felt more of a cage rather than the carriage bumping along the rocky trail that led you to your new prison — yes, Castle Dimitrescu sounded to be just another form of punishment, though you were uncertain as to why you were to be moved from Heisenberg’s watch to Lady Dimitrescu’s estate. You could hardly call it a step up from the twisted games he forced you to play within his factory.

You were sure you were on borrowed time and it was nearly time to collect, and you were certain that time had come when the four Lords surrounded you with Mother Miranda playing the head of the beast, leaving you cowering on the floor. The familiar iron hammer and the stench of billowing cigar smoke was on your right.

Standing next to him was quite possibly one of the ugliest... things you’d ever seen. A cloak hid a majority of his body, but you had the suspicion that the misshaped person next to Heisenberg wasn’t entirely human... you got that vibe from everyone in the room. Especially the weird doll that couldn’t seem to reign in its excitement as it bounced in the veiled woman’s lap seated next to Mother Miranda.

There was nothing human about the golden eyes that peered into yours from under the brim of a wide hat. They seemed calculating, curious, if not a tad bit confused as they surveyed your weak form. You looked away, unable to handle the weight of the woman’s gaze, and that was how you caught Mother Miranda’s bright eyes cutting into you from behind her bird-like mask.

“Oh, how I have been waiting to meet you, little one.” her voice demanded respect, but all you could do was gawk. “You are a stubborn thing, I’ve heard.”

Her gaze slowly crept over to Heisenberg as she said it, and you couldn’t help but feel a tremor of fright at his angered snarl, his arms crossed petulantly. It was true, you had endured many weeks at the hands of the leather-clad man, and while he did his worst, you refused to succumb to his torture, though for how much longer, you couldn’t say.

“I cannot fathom what keeps you here, but there is nothing special about the common human.” said Mother Miranda, and the mounting irritation was crystal clear. “You might have one looking like a dog chasing its own tail, but let us see how you fare in Castle Dimitrescu.”

You could immediately tell who dwelled there with the way the woman wearing white was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. She was completely predatory and was feeding off of Heisenberg’s disgrace and fury, and between the two, you weren’t sure who the best option was, not when her eyes turned to you and she looked like she knew exactly what she wanted to do with you.

“Do not worry, Mother Miranda,” the woman promised, already moving to stand, and the way she towered over you had your neck craned straight upward. “It’s been some time since my daughters had a plaything.”

That comment alone had the other occupants of the room guffawing and whistling. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the prospect of her daughters getting their hands on you, even Heisenberg had his eyebrows arched in surprise. Who the hell are these girls? Mother Miranda seemed to know and that was all that mattered.

“You are about to see what real monsters are.”

And that was how you found yourself roughly chained up inside the carriage that guided you to Castle Dimitrescu. You weren’t entirely sure why it was such a slap in the face to Heisenberg, but he seemed rather indignant as he loaded you up, spitting insults through the whole process.

You couldn’t say for sure how long you had been traveling, but it was enough to have all of your joints achey and your ass numb by the time it was all said and done. Hell, it was long enough to feel the temperature drop as you trekked back around the mountains that stood between the factory and the castle. Though that wasn’t to say that you were in any big rush to get there. In fact, your heart dropped when the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

Panic gripped at your heart, and it felt as though fingers squeezed tightly around it. It left you motionless where you sat, wide eyes glued to the door that you were shoved in through. You could hear Heisenberg muttering and rustling as he approached, but aside from that, you couldn’t hear the distinct clanking of his iron hammer. He had such little faith in your survival skills that he didn’t even bother with arming himself to release you. Not that he needed to... You’ve seen what he can become, and you’ve seen what he houses in his factory. He’d kill you dead in a few seconds flat if you tried anything.

But at this point, what did you have to lose? Mother Miranda made it very clear that you were to be eliminated at the hands of these daughters, so did it really matter if you died at the doorstep or in the dungeon? You might have accepted death, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a last fight out of pure stubbornness. So that was how you had every intention of kicking forcefully at the door once it began creeping open to have him stumble back, possibly cracking him straight in the nose in the process, but that didn’t go as planned right off the bat.

Not when the door was nearly ripped right off the hinges in the haste to open, leaving you jarred, mouth hanging. The sunlight was now faded and replaced by the beams of the moon, but it was a bright night, leaving you capable of seeing that this was definitely not Heisenberg. And neither was she... or her. Uh oh.

“Mother! She’s here!” squealed the redheaded girl closest to you, clapping happily.

“Thank you for the gift, Mother,” said the brunette, her smirk not reaching her dead eyes.

“We will not disappoint you.” promised the blonde, her eyes observing your every move like a hawk.

“Have fun, daughters, but do remember that this one comes special from Mother Miranda, so do not forget to thank her.” their mother instructed, as if you weren’t there.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” all three said in unison before three different pairs of hands grabbed whichever part of you that they could.

Heisenberg clicked his tongue from where he leaned against the side of the carriage. He had an arm crossed while the other brought a cigar nestled between two fingers to his lips. You couldn’t read his eyes from behind his circular sunglasses, but you could read the entertainment in his toothy smile before he took a drag. When he blew it out into your direction, his satisfied grin spread again.

“Now, you have fun now, too, ya hear?” He mocked, chuckling as he turned on his heel, mounted the carriage, and prompted the horses to carry him off into the night.

“We’re gonna have lots of fun.” giggled the redhead, her smile the widest of the daughters as she tugged at your arm, dragging you along the pathway towards the castle.

“Not if I get to her first,” the brunette chimed in, her own grip on your other wrist tightening and pulling, almost like she was trying you get you away from the other.

“Who said either of you get the first turn?” the blonde interrupted, frown etched into her face as she tangled her fingers into the collar of your shirt.

“Enough,” drawled Lady Dimitrescu, voice barely more than a bored mumble, but it still had the daughters zipping their lips. “Bela, you are the oldest, and less likely to break her before your other sisters get a turn, so you may have the first turn.”

The blonde grinned brightly while the other two scowled but saying nothing in front of their mother. Your eyes couldn’t decide where to stay as you glanced between all four women as they finally led you through the entrance of the castle. You noticed that the temperature didn’t really increase from taking shelter, the walls giving off their own chill to substitute for the lack of outside wind.

You didn’t even have time to marvel at the interior before Bela was tugging at you with renewed eagerness. You caught the slight growl from the brunette’s direction, but one glare from the Lady and it ceased. What the hell was really going on here? You never had time to process anything before sister after sister said something that left you reeling.

“Aww, her heart’s racing!” announced the redhead, her eyes wide and unblinking as they stared at your chest. “Please let me-”

“Daniela, no,” snapped Lady Dimitrescu sternly, her frown lines on display. “You will be last, and that’s that.”

Daniela’s face twitched in her attempt to bite her tongue to prevent her argument from bursting forth. It didn’t stop her from turning and giving the brunette a glare however. You gasped when her body dissolved into a swarm of bugs before your very eyes. They dispersed and flew this way and that, and you honestly don’t know why it still shocked you when the brunette followed the same exit style. A nose pressed against the side of your neck and you jolted so hard that you nearly broke free of the hand that was now caressing your shoulder.

“Such a jittery, little thing,” whispered Bela so quietly that her following inhale was louder. “Though I hardly smell the sweet scent of terror... Is this one broken, mother?”

You couldn’t help it, you had to chuckle at the complete honesty in Bela’s question. Your lack of fright baffled this girl almost as much as she baffled you altogether, and suddenly you were staring each other down. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously as she cut her gaze up and down your body. Even Lady Dimitrescu arched a finely sculpted brow at you, seeming more interested now than she did among the other Lords.

“Mother Miranda assures there is nothing special about this one.” said Lady Dimitrescu.

“Why do you not fear me?” demanded Bela, almost sounding offended, her grip on your shoulder tightening. “Your heart is pounding but you aren’t oozing that smell that I like!”

“It’s kinda hard to fear death when you don’t even care about living anymore.” You deadpanned without much feeling, your eyes finding the ground more interesting. “Heisenberg rid me of everything that made me who I used to be.”

“And just who were you before my dear uncle dug his claws into you?” pressed Bela, and you refrained yourself from showing any outward reaction to their connection. You swallowed as you looked her dead in the eye now.

“Someone who would have the common sense to know just how dangerous you are.” You answered, and her brow furrowed.

“Who are you now?” She questioned quietly, her eyes softening a bit under the chandelier light. All you could do was shrug, you had no concrete answer for her, yet you knew you had to supply something.

“Someone who thinks that being abducted by three beautiful women isn’t exactly the worst case scenario,” you chuckled mirthlessly, the bitter smile on your face cutting into your cheeks almost painfully.

Bela stared at you almost dumbfounded before she had to look at her mother, almost as if to double check that she indeed heard correctly before she burst into a fit of giggles. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t even meet her eye, she was too busy staring into your soul. Only when your eyes fell to your feet did you hear her heels clicking away up the winding staircase.

“Remember what she’s here for, dear,” she drawled, never turning back, and leaving you alone with Bela.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with.” You spat, attempting to sound brave rather than defeated.

Bela’s smile was almost animalistic with the way blood smeared across her lips and stained her teeth, and you couldn’t help but to feel like the prey when she took slow, deliberate steps around you.

“Oh, no, where is the fun in that?” Bela countered, reaching out to graze over whatever part she could touch as she continued to stalk around you in circles, taking you all in. “You are my pet now.”

“I thought I was a plaything.” You couldn’t help but throw back into her face, and you were surprised when Bela merely cocked her head instead of getting angered by your outburst.

“Mother Miranda might not find anything special about you, but call me fascinated.” said Bela, stopping in front of you, her fingertips caressing your throat. “You belong to me now.”

“Us,” corrected a sudden voice behind you, and the haze that was settling over you in Bela’s presence was lifted when you jerked forward.

You tried to whirl around on your heel out of reflex to back away, but Bela’s fingers dipped from your throat to grip at the collar of your shirt to keep you still and facing her. You flinched away from the sudden hand that tangled in the bottom of your hair, pulling your head back until it was resting against a shoulder. Brown hair cascaded down into your eyes.

“Mother Miranda gave her to all of us.” corrected the brunette, the edge in her voice making it like steel.

“Cassandra’s right,” sang Daniela in a sing song voice, and it had a shiver running down your spine, which prompted a round of wild giggling. “Did you like that, pet?”

“If we’re being technical,” Bela piped up with an eye roll, trying to pull you closer and failing when both Daniela and Cassandra tightened their own grips on you. “Mother Miranda gave her to us to tear apart, so she wasn’t meant for anyone.”

“Buuuuuuut?” You interrupted, hoping to add a touch of humor to your case.

Daniela giggled and Bela shook her head in mild amusement, but you found that Cassandra was the more difficult one to crack. She didn’t offer a single facial expression as her eyes surveyed every inch of your body, and you couldn’t tell if she was appreciating the view or if she was sizing up which part of you she wanted to rip off and take for herself.

These three women spoke so callously and so nonchalant right in front of you. These three women were what Mother Miranda referred to as “monsters” compared to the actual beasts you had seen lurking within Heisenberg’s factory. These three women were spattered in blood that you somehow knew wasn’t theirs, and they wouldn’t stop touching you. Hm.

“Aren’t you funny,” Cassandra said nearly monotonous, but her smirk was on full display, and you cursed the light, fluttering feel of your chest.

“I try,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would be taken as a threat to these crazed women, but you did look her in the eye to gauge her reaction.

“Can we keep this one, Bela, please?” whined Daniela, pouting at the blonde.

“I don’t think mother would allow it though.” Bela worried, finally releasing her hold on your shirt, and that had Cassandra and Daniela pulling you closer (and almost apart).

“She is ours to do as we please, we’d kill her if she tried anything.” snapped Cassandra, looking like the whole situation was stupid to her.

“Obviously she will not try to escape!” insisted Daniela, nodding her head furiously towards who you were guessing was the older sister, before turning to you. “Right?”

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were all looking at you expectantly, and you couldn’t help but feel warm under the spotlight. You could practically see the thoughts flicking through Bela’s calculating eyes. Cassandra was cool and reserved as her eyes gave nothing away, but her wicked smirk showed she wanted something from you, whatever that might be. Daniela’s eyes were intense as they bored into you, and her smile was almost unhinged, and honestly who were you to break it?

“I could never say no to three pretty girls.” You flirted, wagging your eyebrow to each sister, and the response was immediate.

Bela’s mouth parted in a silent gasp before she latched onto the front of your shirt again and started giggling. Cassandra looked entirely predatory now as her eyes flashed and her smirk showed all of her teeth, her own chuckles slipping out. Daniela, who was curled around your arm the whole time, had stars in her eyes at your answer and she smiled widely, throwing her own cackling into the mix, and suddenly it was a symphony.

“I want her first,” pleaded Daniela, eyes never leaving you.

“Mother said it’s my turn with the pet!” said Bela, tugging at you again.

“Why should we get her after she’s been used?” Cassandra argued, her arm now wrapped around you from behind.

“I won’t break her!” snapped Bela, her pulling useless when it was a deadlock between three pairs of hands.

“I don’t care!” cried Daniela, one arm curled around yours and her other hand reaching up to grab your opposite shoulder, locking you in. “I want her!”

You swallowed past your suddenly dry throat. The three sisters were not only talking about a possibility of keeping you around, but it sounded as though they were fighting over you. Your cheeks were aflame as you averted your eyes.

“Look who’s bashful all of a sudden,” jested Cassandra, both her hands falling to your hips. “Where’s all that talk now?”

“I can smell you blushing.” Daniela interjected, sniffing aloud and moaning. “You smell so good... we need to make you blush often.”

“Are we sure we can hide this from mother?” Bela asked one last time, almost like she was seeking permission from her younger sisters now. Daniela and Cassandra shrugged.

“We’ll just have to find out, now won’t we?” You pressed, looking to solidify your place among them... you’d take the position of “pet” over the one of “food” any day.

“Brave little thing,” Cassandra cooed, her fingers rubbing circles on your hips. “I need you with me.”

“Dammit I said it’s my turn!” snarled Bela, finally poking and prying at her sisters fingers locked around you.

“Just because you’re the oldest-!”

“You’re damn right I’m the oldest, and I-”

“You look so stupid,” spat Cassandra petulantly, having enough with going nowhere in the argument, and you could see that this was about to get old quick if you didn’t ease some of the tension.

“You all wanna kiss me so bad it makes you all look stupid.” You sucked your teeth between your lips when it grew deadly silent.

Bela had a crease between her brow as she stared at you in shock, uncertain if she heard you right. Cassandra was a blank slate as she absorbed you taking her insult and turning it back around on her as well. Daniela was wide eyed as she gaped at you for a full five seconds before she snorted and her megawatt smile lit up her entire face.

“I won’t let them get rid of you.” Daniela promised, and you couldn’t recall the last time that she blinked.

“Okay, okay,” sighed Bela, glaring at her sister. “We’re all going to keep her.”

“I hope I don’t break you.” chuckled Cassandra, and coupled with her breath so close to your ear, it had warmth flaring in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t get bashful on me, now,” you smirked back, relishing in the giggles that surrounded you.

“Come along, plaything,” quipped Bela, winking at you as she dragged you along, the sisters following along with her this time. “We’ve got to show you your new home.”

Wild giggling echoed throughout the castle, and it was becoming your new favorite tune.

[x-infernhoes-x]

She’s My Collar- Basilio x Reader

Title: She’s My Collar

Genre: Romance, Smut, Porn with Plot

Warning(s): Mentions of Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Consent, Basilio nearly murdering someone because they spoke badly about you

Description: KAI IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU AND ALL OF YOU BASILIO SIMPS 

NOTE SOMETIME AROUND 3:00 AM YESTERDAY NAWALA YUNG ORIGINAL PUTANG INA I WAS THIS CLOSE ON FINISHING IT SHDJGFHJBDKJBSEDVGSJHGBKHGSFKJBGBKJGBJGLJBGWL  AN HOUR’S WORTH OF WRITING G O N E AND I HAD TO REWRITE EVERYTHING I AM STRESSED AND DSBJKGBKJFSDGNB SO ENJOY.

4:31 AM NOTE UPDATE YESTERDAY: langya ayoko na. matutulog na nga ako, sakit na ng likod ko.

6:50 PM NOTE TODAY: I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT COMES. ALSO, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS!!

12:10 AM NOTE TODAY: The note above this one is a lie. I managed to continue this after family night lmao but enjoy still. Tried my best to make it gender-neutral as possible but yeah :’) I kinda failed successfully I think???

  You and Basilio have been dating for quite some time now. Although he was a messy guy you made sure that you had his back and helped him out to work on how to keep his sloppy tendencies at bay and in turn he would shower you with love and affection that you would usually get from the demi-god of war. Basilio was the perfect guy, he was a sweet lad who made your lonely days better, he made sure that you were cared for in any shape or form and he always had your back in everything and he would give you anything you would ask for in the world. The two of you barely even fought and if you were to fight, it would be more of a joke one than an all-out screaming match. He was the best thing that has ever happened to you and you constantly thank Bathala for it and Basilio thought the same. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

 Although despite your busy schedules keeping the two of you apart, you both made sure that you and your loving boyfriend would get the chance to hang out together. Often, you and Basilio would frequent the Diabolical together, just basking in each other's presence, tucked away in some booth Hank had reserved for the two of you, or sitting by the bar just chatting about each other’s day. You could recall Hank telling you that whenever you were around or that when someone ever mentions your name, Basilio seemed to calm down and would eagerly listen into whatever conversation had said your name. There was a time where Basilio nearly knocked someone’s teeth out because they were talking badly of you and it took Crispin, Maliksi, Hannah, Amie, Alex, and Hank himself to hold back the younger twin and prevent him from punching someone’s lights or teeth out or even prevent a murder from ever happening.

 “Alam mo, (Y/N) pag naririnig ni Basilio na dadaan ka rito, parang siyang aso na di mapakali. Kulang nalang na magkaroon siya ng buntot e.” Hank joked as he was cleaning the freshly washed glass, watching Basilio flush red, face buried into his forearm as he groaned in response while you let out a small chuckle.

 Now looking back, that memory seemed to be far away from you. Tonight happened to be your anniversary with Basilio and instead of a cozy night in, he wanted to do something different.  Basilio wanted to take you out dancing and bar hopping around Bonifacio Global City’s luxurious bars (sometimes you wondered to yourself how the hell can Basilio afford this.) and maybe take you sight seeing around the place when you got the time. Pacing around your living room in your apartment, you were about to shoot him a text message when a knock at your door had interrupted you from doing so, nearly dropping your phone in the process. “Sandali  lang!” you yelled to whoever was outside the door. If there was one thing you learned from dating Basilio, it was being vigilant. You had to make sure that the person on the other side of your door was your boyfriend and not some kind of Aswang or any malicious person who had a personal grudge against the twins and Alex. Taking a peek at the pee hole your door had, you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, Basilio grinning up at you as he waved. Instead of wearing his suit, Basilio was in his casual clothing for tonight, his long silken locks pulled back in a half-up, half-down man-bun.

 Opening the door, you then welcomed him with open arms before proceeding to smack him playfully on his arm, an amused smirk on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, your tone light and teasing, “Took you long enough! Siguro na-traffic ka no?” Basilio could only roll his dark eyes at you as he placed a loving kiss upon your head. “Hindi a, si Kuya Crispin kasi e, sobrang tagal niya sa banyo kaya ayun.” Pulling himself away from you, he then offered his arm for you to take with a grin, his head tilting towards the direction of the door as he spoke, “So ano? Tara na?” “Siyempre naman.”  

 After making sure your apartment was locked, the two of you went down towards the direction of the parking lot and took a couple few selfies inside the elevator, you and Basilio were off. While in the car, the both of you would scream along to the lyrics of Ang Huling El Bimbo by Eraserheads while in traffic. On your way to BGC, both of you were surprised to see Maliksi and his significant by the stoplight, taking the advantage of the long-ass stop to chat with the Prince of the Tikbalangs and his fiancé. Your conversation was cut short when the stoplight had changed from red to green, saying your goodbyes to each other as Basilio drove away to your very first destination, which was none other than XYLO at The Palace.

  In all honesty, you’ve heard about this bar but it was the first time you got to enter the place itself. The both of you got lucky that the place wasn’t as packed and that you got there early before the actual party had started. Both you and Basilio then made your way over to the bar to grab your first drinks of the night. The two of you chatted for a while, occasionally nodding your heads to the beat of the song. After a while, the night seemed to kick in and both of you were already at what seemed to be your 3rd or 4th bar of the night, this time you and Basilio were jumping up and down to DJ Khalid’s song ‘All I Do Is Win’ before the both of you screamed along with the rest of the patrons, “Putang Ina, Alak Pa!”  and time seemed to flow faster than ever as you and your loving boyfriend went in and about around BGC’s classiest bars, downing every single drink you two could manage and take or even dance along to the songs the bars provided while occasionally sharing a kiss here and there, not minding the reek of alcohol and sweat clinging on each other’s bodies as the two of you laughed.

 Sometime around 10:30, you and Basilio were shitfaced to oblivion but both of you were used to it. You had lost count on how many drinks you’ve managed to down yet you and Basilio couldn’t care less, you were certain that you heard your phones ring but you two never got the chance to answer them because Basilio was busy doing body shots on you or you making out with your boyfriend in some hidden corner of the bar. You were starting to get the hint that after your little make-out session at Club Haze, he was focused on one thing and you knew what that meant, despite being inebriated out of your wits. So what do you do? Put on a show for him of course.

 You knew Basilio was sitting by the bar because you told him you were going to use the bathroom to freshen up a little bit since the club felt a little bit humid. What he didn’t expect was you sashaying over to where the dance floor, the last notes of Nelly Furtado’s Maneater fading away only to be replaced by Doja Cat’s Streets. To you, the sound seemed to have slowed down and you weren’t sure because it was the alcohol’s effects taking over, nobody else in the club mattered but your boyfriend alone.  The figures around you seemed to blur and Basilio was the only one you had your eyes on as your body moved to the beat, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted, and even from afar, you could see your demi-god of a boyfriend shuffle in his seat, his cheeks brightly flushed even under the lights of the dark club (yes, Basilio even tried to hide his raging boner from everyone but he was failing miserably). You knew that he was watching you closely like a predator ready to strike and even from afar you can tell that he was getting impatient with your games and that made you smirk. You knew that Basilio had a thing for Semi-Public sex and your several other experiences with him were proof of that, hell the two of you almost got caught one time and you were internally thankful that you weren’t. But tonight, Basilio’s going to abide by the rules of your own game and not his.

The opening bass beat from Beyonce’s Yonce/Partition was your cue to take things up a notch by making your way over to the bar where you had stood upon the counter (you had asked the bartender and the rest of the patrons who hung around the bar save for Basilio in advance and they seemed to agree with it just as long as you were careful) and made your way down the counter, hips sashaying and your body with every beat and drop before stopping to where he was, a smirk on your face, your hands running up from your thighs and right past your chest in a sensual manner, leaning in just so you could ghost your lips over Basilio’s eagerly waiting ones before pulling away with a wink. Once your little show was done and you had gone down from your counter with the help of the bartender you had just spoken to before making your way over to the dance floor once more to dance just as your song, She’s My Collar by Gorillaz began to play only to be caught short when you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

Despite being drunk you were still smart and quick to retaliate towards whoever had grabbed you only to be surprised to be looking right directly at your boyfriend’s dark obsidian gaze, his breath slow and ragged and you knew you were in it for real this time the moment he said, “We’re leaving.” In a tone, you’ve never heard from him before and that seemed to send shivers and chills up your spine as he dragged you away from the bar to head right outside.

Honestly, the whole trip back to the car seemed to pass you by like a blur, you would occasionally stumble on your own feet, which prompted Basilio to sling you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes (at least it gave you a perfect view of his ass). The moment you arrived at your car, however, you were thrown haphazardly into the backseat after Basilio had unlocked the door with ease and then entered the vehicle as well, quickly pulling you up on his lap where he locked his lips with you in a heated kiss, hands roaming around your body with such need and you could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his dark jeans. You were surprised at first but once the initial shock and surprise had worn off, you kissed him back as well with the same passion and need that he emulated from his kiss, your fingers and hands made a quick undo of his man-bun and top, hastily unbuttoning them, eager to touch the skin underneath it and leave marks on it. Basilio could only groan in response to your touches, his tongue exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, his hands groping your behind with such force that made you moan out his name, a quiet hiss of “Tangina.” Soon followed your surprise.

 In your mayhem of desire and lust, you didn’t notice Basilio play Chase Atlantic’s song Devilish on the radio.

 Clothes were thrown around and about in the space of the car and in that blur of clothing being discarded around, you were honestly surprised when Basilio had lifted up your lower half towards him, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs before his head disappeared in between your legs, bestowing you the best oral you’ve ever had received from him in your years of dating. You couldn’t thrash around with him holding you so tightly against his face as he went down on you but your hands were free to roam and tug at his long silken locks, his name spoken like a prayer  and just as you were about to reach your peak, he had pulled away from you, a sadistic yet innocent smirk placed upon his now glistening chin and lips coated in your slick as he spoke, “Not yet, babe.”  Winking at you, he gingerly set you down before he leaned over to where his now discarded jeans were as he pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and a small pack of lube for him to use. Once the foil was open and the rubber was on his already hard dick, he then proceeded to open the pack of lube, rubbing it on his length before instructing you to get on your hands and your ass up for him.

 And by Bathala you began to see stars the moment he had entered you. Your nails seemed to dig on the dark leather surface of the car’s upholstery, your back arched to the extreme and you were certain that you could feel Basilio trailing kisses along the expanse of your neck, shoulders, and back, his hands guiding you on his length while yours snaked around to reach for him, tilting your head sidewards to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, his manhood still relentless at fucking you senseless and in between the thrusts and moans, you were thankful that the windows were tinted from the outside or else the two of you would’ve been caught. Throughout the whole night, you two spent it by doing it on every single surface inside the car, doing every single position the two of you could think of, taking each other to new heights with every pose the two of you did, and yes, let’s just say you were sore the morning after that.

 Once the morning came around, the two of you were still naked and you were sure that after your last round with your loving boyfriend, you felt the waves of your hang-over wash over you like a wave, making you groan out in pain. Everything was sore with you and your body was littered with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks while Basilio, who had his healing factor with him thanks to his demi-god status, was relatively unscathed but he did have some hickies of his own to present to the world. Shuffling, you gently nudged Basilio awake as you spoke, “Babe, anong oras na??”

 At your action, your boyfriend, still groggy from sleep, could only groan at this, his hand reaching out to search for his mobile phone to check the time. Squinting, he then saw the time on his phone but the color on his face seemed to drain the moment he saw several missed calls and messages from his twin brother and the Babaylan-Mandirigma herself. “SHIT!” Basilio managed to cry out of sheer panic, his head accidentally hitting against the roof of the car, making him hiss even more, hands holding the spot where he had hit his head. “Lagot tayo kay Bossing, (Y/N), kagabi pa niya tayo tinatwagan kasama ni Kuya Crispin.” At the mere mention of Alex and Crispin’s name, you seemed to understand the sense of urgency before the two of you began to clean up the car, dressing up as you did so, attempting to make yourselves look more presentable and cover the tracks from yesterday’s events. Once done, Basilio was driving like a speeding madman in a rush to head back where his brother and Alex were at.

 It took him at least an hour to arrive at their destination with Alex taking the role as today’s designated driver while Basilio sat in the back with his brother. “San ba kayo galing? Kagabi pa namin kayo tinatawagan ni Crispin, (Y/N), Basilio. Ano ba nangyare, ha?” Alex spoke, her eyes flickering over to where Basilio was, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he spoke, “Sensya na ho, Bossing. Nag-sight seeing kasi kami ni (Y/N) kagabi tas nag-bar hoping kami tas pagkatapos nakatulog kami dito sa kotse.” A little doubtful of this, Alex could only glance at you from the corner of her eye, expecting for you to react but you held your emotions close to your heart as you spoke, “Totoo po yung sinasabi ni Basilio, bossing. Di po naming sadya na di kayo replyan ni Crispin. Di na po mauulit.” Nodding, Alex then excused the both of you and the car ride was silent, save for the fact that the radio was playing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. You did feel a little bit cold however and you couldn’t help the fact that something was missing until Crispin screamed out in surprise, horror, and disgust, finally noticing the thing you were missing. Ah shit. “TANGINA BASILIO, ANO TO!?!?!” Crispin managed to yell out, holding up your lace underwear for everyone in the car to see with Basilio quickly snatching the piece of clothing away from his brother, tucking it in his pocket before he responded, “ANONG-ANO KA DIYAN KUYA!?! WALA KANG NAKITA!!”

You silently prayed to Bathala for him to forgive you but you were sure as hell Alex won’t. You made a mental note to not ever do it in the car you guys use for missions ever again.

[illyaana]

Tags: Angst (like a lot), Fluff (like a lot), Kaminari Denki x Reader (shoulder-length hair pls, tq), Binaural

Synopsis: You and Denki are childhood friends. When you were young, you two found this little meadow filled with wildflowers. Who'd thought your safe haven would bring back such painful feelings?

Word Count: 2812

Dont forget to check out the main masterlist of the event hosted by @kuroos-babygirl over here!

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The meadow you both crouched on glowed a gold hue as your fingers grazed the soft petals of the tall wildflowers, its stems rubbing against your sides. You eyed how the soft colour dusted itself on the peach skin of the boy before you, his entranced gaze stuck on the yellow and black-coloured butterfly fluttering its wings on the white-coloured flower. You enjoyed the bright smile adorned on the innocent male as he saw the now flying butterfly dance in the pale blue sky.

When’s the last time you both did this? - just walking around this little haven you both found together a year back?

Your six-year-old self reflected on all the memories they made with the seven-year-old in front of them.

It all began here - this little prairie.

Your first friend, your first wound, your first fight, your first day-out; it all took place in this land of vast greenery dusted yellow by blackeyed susans, corn marigold and bird's-foot trefoil.

It is all thanks to the adventurous, little blonde boy in front of you.

“Why are you staring, Y/N?” Denki said, nudging you.

“Just looking at the flowers, that’s all.”

A good lie, Y/N - a skilful lie.

He looked at your finger, eyeing it. Soon your hands were in his, the soft pad of his fingers trailing on the small lines of your hands. Each crevice was examined by that soft gaze of his, playing with your soft skin. His finger stopped at the scar painted on the fleshy part of your palm, a sulk forming on his lips.

“Was this from that time I dared you to jump from that tree?” He asked, guilt laced in his whispers.

It was, but you didn’t want him to know.

“Don’t worry, Denks - it wasn’t from that dare,” you say as you take your hands away from his grip, “I picked up a rock and there was a sharp end and it cut through my skin.”

He pulled your hand back into his, stretching the skin around the scar. He tried looking for clues to make sure you weren’t lying, a stressed look evident on his face.

You chuckled, gripping the side of his cheek and pinching it.

He looked at your radiant smile and all his worries washed away.

He let go of your hand and gripped your cheek in his left hand. His thumb began to rub small circles on your cheek, admiring how you leaned into his touch.

He loved how you were so at peace and calm when you were with him. You had no qualms in wasting hours listening to his dreams and aspirations, intervening once in a while to expand on his little ideas.

But you - right now, like this - is his favourite of it all.

You looked like an angel, the light from the Sun lighting your soft skin. The flowers and the very ends of your hair softly swished against the wind, forming such beautiful scenery as he took in the view unravelling in front of him.

He wondered how those flowers would look against your fingers, your hair, your ears…

He wondered how you’d look dripping in flowers.

“Sit down.”

Denki eyed the ground beneath him, looking for flowers that reminded him of you. The softness you brought, the light mood you formed whenever you were around him, the warmth you radiated whenever you were with him - he kept it all in his head as he saw the flowerbeds filled with flowers of different species.

His eyes stopped at the Black-eyed Susans that swished with the wind.

He instantly grabbed handfuls of the dainty-looking flower, hoping he had enough for the idea he had in his head.

Using his long nails, he cut the stem of the flower right down in the middle. He split one of the sections again, making three strips out of a stem. He then slowly began to braid the stems together, weaving them into a long strip.

“Stick your ring finger out, Y/N.”

You let him wrap that small strap around your finger, a determined gaze focused on the base of it.

He then inserted the end of the weaved strip into a section of the strip, securing its shape.

He took the rest of the flowers he collected and put them in his pocket as he walked behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Let me do this! I have an idea,” he said, happiness lacing his words.

In a huff of annoyance, you agreed.

He began to braid the two front pieces of your hair, slowly adding the flowers he collected. He made sure that the stems were hidden behind your luscious hair. Once he finished braiding them both, he brought them to the back of your head, tying them together with the hair tie on your wrist.

“Are you finally done?” You ask, turning to face him.

You stared at his eyes focused on you, a small blush dusting his cheeks.

Angel.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me do this, Y/N,” he replied, covering his cheeks with his arm.

You looked like an angel to him. The way your eyes twinkled, your soft lips, your cute nose, your soft skin, your gaze - it was all so perfect to him.

“Y/N,” he started, “Promise me when we get older, we’ll marry each other?”

Your eyes widen as you quickly stand up in shock.

“The hell, Denki?!” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, “You just can’t say that!”

“I think you’re the only one that can handle me - after all, you’re still here,” he says as he rubs his chin.

“Denki, life doesn’t work like that.”

“And you know how my life is going to work? Knowing me, I’d be single until I’m 23-years old if we don’t make this promise. I’d most probably have a sugar baby-”

“Stop,” you say, holding back your laughter, “Is that your plan if you don’t get into a relationship by 23?”

“...maybe.”

You began laughing, clutching onto your stomach as you stared at him.

“Stop laughing, okay!” he says, annoyed.

“Well, at least you have goals-”

“Y/N!” He says, hitting your back.

You take a deep breath as you recollect your thoughts.

Maybe a life with him won’t be so bad.

“If I can prevent you from thinking of being a sugar daddy that early in life, then sure; we can get married.”

He smiled, grabbing your hands.

“Thank you, Y/N!”

You both hold hands as you walk out of the meadow.

“I’m picturing you with a college girl at 65-year-”

“Stop.”

.

.

.

“You’re finally back!” said Denki as he jumped into your arms.

“Yeah, I am.”

You looked at the now pro-hero in your hands. You chuckled when you felt his small grip on the back of your loosely fit university hoodie. He pressed his head against your chest, nuzzling into the soft cotton. A small hum left his lips as you ruffled his blonde hair - signalling how comfortable he felt in your hands.

God, you missed him - it felt so wrong to leave him right after graduating from UA.

However, you have become a skilled inventor - no one could doubt that. Thanks to the guidance of David Shield, you’ve made your name in the inventing world. You came back to Mustafu to build your brand - hopefully alongside your childhood friend.

“So, Chargebolt,” you teased, “Congrats on getting into the top 10 of the Hero chart! I was shocked when I found out that you - of all people - got in.”

“Hey,” He hit the back of your head, “I’m a good hero, okay?”

“I sense favouritism but okay,” you teased again.

“Not very good of you as an up and coming inventor to tease a pro-hero.”

“So the friend label is gone? Understood, sir. Have a great day,” you say as you push him off of you.

“Fine, fine, fine. Come in.”

You walk into Denki’s new apartment and a flush of memories come.

You eyed the small pictures he hung on the wall, the little trinkets he kept on his coffee table and the way he arranged his kitchen. It all reminded you of his former home - the home near that little meadow.

You miss it - you both did.

You took out the little flower ring he made all those years ago and placed it in his hands.

“Remember this?” You ask.

“You kept it?” He said, smiling, “I can’t believe you did!”

“Yeah. I book-pressed it the minute I went back,” you say, chuckling, “Y’know, I still think about that little promise we made in that meadow from now and then.”

“What promise?”

You eyed the metal band around his ring finger.

He remembers - he definitely remembers. After all, he was the one who made you agree to it.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests, Denki.”

Your eyes fell to Jirou walking out of a room and wrapping her arms around his waist from the back. She pressed her head against his neck, her hair brushing against it. He smiled, leaning into the newfound warmth she gave.

You saw the same metal ring around her left ring finger. The same gem, the same design, the same shape - everything.

“I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? I’m engaged to Jirou! - We’re getting married later this year.”

Of course, he forgot. It was just a simple promise you both made when you were kids. It meant nothing - nothing at all.

“I’m happy for you, Denki - I really am.”

You really were.

You are happy that he finally met someone who loved him despite seeing all his flaws.

You are happy Jirou managed to see what you saw in Denki - a loveable, amazing soul with a heart of gold.

You just wished you didn’t hold onto that promise.

You wish you threw away that rotting ring when you had the chance.

You wish you never went to that meadow.

You wish you never met Denki - not like that.

You wish you never fell in love with him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Denki said as he hugged you again.

You don’t want him to hug you.

You wanted distance - you wanted to go back to I-Island.

You don’t want to be here.

You tried to pry Denki off of you, but you couldn’t - his grip on you was too strong.

“Denki, you’re choking me,” you say whilst fake-laughing.

You looked at Jirou who smiled at his display of affection towards you.

She trusts you - she knows how much you mean to him.

You don’t deserve it - her trust is wasted on you.

You are in love with her future husband - the very person who is hugging you as tight as they can.

“Denki, they look so uncomfortable - get off,” she said, patting her shoulder.

You want to get out of here.

You need to.

“I think I’ll head to my hotel room, Denks,” you say as you grab your bags.

“But-”

“Denki,” you say as you push him off of you angrily, “I need to go, ok?”

You look at his torn expression and guilt hits you.

But it was his fault - all of this was.

He isn’t meant to cry - you are.

And here he is, tearing just at the sight of your angry expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did something happen? You seemed okay when you came earlier…”

Stop crying, Denki.

“There’s nothing wrong, Kaminari. I just need to check into my hotel room, that’s all.”

Kaminari.

“Do you want me to drive you there? I-”

“It’s okay, Kaminari. I’ll get a cab.”

Kaminari.

“Y/N, we’re good, right?”

“Why would you think we aren’t, Kaminari?”

Kaminari.

You walked out of their apartment, tears trailing down your eyes.

.

.

.

You stood in the meadow you met Kaminari, eyes closed. You took in the fresh air brushing against your skin as the smell of fresh flowers invades your nose. Your now long hair felt weightless as the wind lifted it, giving you wings.

“How do I look, Y/N?”

You stared at Denki in his black tux and smiled.

He looked amazing, as usual.

His skin looked amazing against the obsidian-coloured suit. The sunlight hit his skin so well it looked like it was glowing. His hair was tousled, giving you a full view of his undercut. You chuckled when you saw the black streak of his hair hidden under his natural yellow hair - it looked as if he was trying to hide his foolish mistakes when he was a kid. You looked at his small piercing now adorned with a purple gem, reminding you of his fiance.

He’s finally getting married.

He’s getting married in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

He’s getting married to someone else in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

“You look good, Kaminari.”

“Why are you calling me Kaminari? Call me Denki.”

“I can’t, Kaminari.”

It would bring back too many memories.

Painful memories.

“I don’t know why you can’t, though?”

“It doesn’t feel right…”

“You’ve been calling me Denki or Denks ever since we were kids, Y/N! Hearing you call me Kaminari sounds wrong…”

“Leave it, Kaminari,” you say, hiding your feelings behind a laugh.

“No, I won’t. Call me Denks, Y/N.”

Stop.

“Later, Kaminari.”

“Not Kaminari - Denki.”

Stop.

“I promise I’ll call you that later, now go get ready.”

“I am not leaving until you call me Denki.”

Stop.

“Kaminari, just go.”

“I don’t know why you stopped calling me Denki ever since you saw Jirou that day - it doesn’t make sense. You were my first friend that called me Denks, you made that nickname - Why are you calling me by the nickname you made?”

Stop talking about it, please.

“Please, Kaminari - let it go.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him.

“I won’t until you tell me why. Did I do something wrong? Just tell me, Y/N. You know I won’t hate you no matter what happens.”

“Just drop it, ok?” You say, anger lacing your words.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Just tell me-”

“Fine.”

You forced your wrist out of his grip, making him fall on the couch.

“You wanna know why? It’s because I thought you remembered the promise we made as kids. I hoped you felt the way I did about it; I hoped you knew why I never got into a relationship.”

You gripped your phone tightly, not wanting to lash out at him anymore.

Why did you do that? Why today?

He’s supposed to be happy today.

“What promise, Y/N?”

A dark smile graced your lips.

What were you thinking? Shouting at him won’t make him remember.

Tears began to fall from your eyes as you lifted your face to see his worried face.

“It’s okay, Kaminari - don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not? You’re crying in front of me,” he said, tears forming in his eyes, “You weren’t meant to cry today.”

You weren’t either, Denki.

He got off the couch and began to hug you tightly. He pressed your head against his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.”

You gently push Denki and cup his face in your hands. You rub the tears from his eyes as he pressed his cheek onto your left hand.

“You okay, Denks?”

Just for today, you’ll give what he wants.

Just today.

“There it is!” He said, jumping on you, “Don’t you dare call me anything but Denks again.”

“Mhmm.”

You hugged him one last time before heading to your seat, waiting for the ceremony to commence.

.

.

.

You saw how happy he stood at the altar with Kirishima by his side. You chuckled as you looked at the small banter happening between the two of them, pissing off the priest slightly. Bakugo snapped at the two of them very often, telling them to keep quiet.

Still the mother of the group.

Soon after, Jirou walked in.

She wore a white dress that tugged on her amazing figure, surrounded by lace. Dandelions surrounded her, flying in the air, encasing her in pure beauty. They danced around her as her orchestra of young kids sang and played instruments for her.

You saw how tears formed in both of their eyes as they stared at each other.

Tears of joy encapsulating how much they’ve dreamed of this moment.

While yours that showed joy hid everlasting longing.

You feel cheated - not by Denki, but the black-eyed Susans that tickled your feet.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans that cleared a path for Jirou to meet her beloved.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans Denki used when he was young to make you that damn ring.

Your tears watered the devilish flowers painted yellow and black that stood beneath you, taking in your pain as a drug.

[kinsurou]

OOOO 92 and 60 with dabi please!!!!

92. “I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”

60. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

I’m in the mood for more Incubus!Dabi, so why not take advantage to make reader get some payback? 👀

“Y’know, little one. When you said you were in the mood for something different, I didn’t think you meant this…” 

Dabi’s sitting in the middle of the bed, pulling slightly at the shackles holding his wrists back against the headboard, he looks at the steel handcuffs with an amused look on his face. 

Do you seriously believe that something as insignificant as this, would be able to hold him back? Because they wouldn’t, but he is willing to entertain you for a bit if it meant he could have a taste of you without being spritzed with holy water for once.

He realizes why you’re trusty about the handcuffs when you walk into the room wearing a brand new lingerie set that nearly makes the demon burst into flames. 

The moment he attempts to move, the handcuffs don’t budge one bit which seems to be a problem by the way he glares at the restrains with a vicious glare.

“Hey, what did you do to these things?” He pulls again with a growl, trying to break free of his restraints to no avail, and when he tries to use his flames to break free, his wrists begin burning until his flames go out. Judging from the way you laugh at him, it can’t be that good….at least for him.

“Watch closely~” Your voice is closer than before, when Dabi turns his attention back, you’re sitting right closer than before and lean forwards to kiss his jaw softly, just like that time he wouldn’t stop bothering you, his breath catches in his throat when you nibble softly on his skin just to stop as quickly to look at the handcuffs.

When he gives them another look, there’s something engraved on the metal, something that makes the demon’s eyes go wide.

Somehow, you had managed to engrave a chant into the handcuffs that prevented Dabi from escaping, or breaking them like he had been planning all along.

Had he known about this little trap, he would have hidden them just like the time he hid the spritzer.

“I knew you would try to break free.” You start crawling over him, sitting over the demon’s chest with a smug smile and arms crossed over your chest. “So I decided to give this a try and would you look at that? It actually worked!” 

Leaning down again you whisper on his ear, for the first time since you’ve both met, Dabi’s the one that has shivers running down his spine that make him hiss dangerously, eyes shining faintly in the dim room. 

“I’m gonna get you back for all those times you left me sore right before a shift. That time I had to apologize to Yuki because she could hear just how loud you made me scream until my throat hurt...and for the time you gave me THIS.” A hand goes up to your throat, delicate fingers tracing the mark he gave you.

He never thought the day would come where he’d be intimidated by the little mouse sitting on top of him...but maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad, right…?

--

He’s growling, kicking and struggling against the handcuff rubbing his wrists raw, desperate to be freed and be able to fuck you properly. Make you scream, beg, and cry until you’re an overstimulated mess underneath him.

But that seems impossible at the moment, when you have his cock in between both of your hands, pumping him with a steady pace so you grind against him slowly, moaning at the friction of each piercing against your clit, but even with the desperation to sink down on that throbbing cock, there’s not a single attempt at taking him in, despite how soaked you feel and how much your sex throbs, begging to be filled. 

Right as Dabi gets closed to cum in those nice hands of yours, his length is immediately released as you move away only a little bit, enough to make him snarl for the fourth time that night as you prevent him from getting the much-needed release he yearns.

He growls one more time, glaring at you with glowing eyes almost as fierce as they were during the first meeting with the devil. There’s drool coming out through the corner of his lips and the blanket underneath is starting to get scorched by his fire.

“What’s wrong, master? Do you need to cum?” Oh, you’re so going to get it once he gets free from his cursed restrains, but at least it’s worth getting revenge on the demon. “Do you want this?”

Two fingers spread your wet folds, the sweet scent of your arousal riles up Dabi. His wrists are raw, aching from each time he keeps pulling against the cuffs.

“You know the rule, master.” Pulling your fingers away to lean over Dabi, he can’t help but enjoy how your soft chest feels pressed down against his own “I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”

He groans when the hand previously playing with your lower regions goes up to touch his face, slick covered fingers touching his lower lip, dragging the soft muscle along with them.

“Would you like a taste?” 

There’s no need to ask twice, he lets you plunge the digits into his eager mouth to tangle with his tongue, purring happily as he savors the taste of your essence like it was the last supper itself.

Fuck dignity, he needed you….NOW

“Little one….please. I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking about you and everything you do to me.” 

You blink twice, not expecting him to give in so quickly. 

Then he continues, and it’s almost like your whole body turns into mush because of his hoarse cries.

“You have no idea how much I want you.”

You pause, gulping nervously, embarrassed from witnessing this unexpected side of Dabi you didn’t know that existed in the first place. 

“W-Woah..I…didn’t really take you for the begging type.” Coughing into your fist and looking away for a minute with a deep flush in your face. Eventually, the nerves are finally calmed down and you turn back to the Demon, who’s giving you a small frown.

“Okay, I guess you can have a small treat~” 

Leaning forwards again, you give the immortal pest a kiss, in response, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the gesture. Your whole body is burning up with each second spent this close to Dabi. Pleased moans and groans fill the room the more your lips stay locked together in a sinful dance.

Pulling away with hazed eyes, you give him another small peck before angling yourself over him, a hand follows in between your burning bodies to latch on his erect member. 

“I want you so badly.” 

Finally, Dabi gets what he wants and hisses between gritted fangs once you sink down on him. The pleasure is such that it feels like your very souls are being pulled into each other. Maybe because of the mark, maybe because you’ve both grown desperate for it.

But neither of you care.

“Fuck, why do you feel so good?” 

It’s the sudden, thunderous crack of wood that snaps you out of the daze. When you look up the sight nearly makes your blood run cold.

Dabi may not be able to break free from the handcuffs, but he can break free with them.

“D-Did you just break t-the head-” There’s little you can say when he traps you into his bound arms with a vicious grin on his face.

“You really thought you had the upper hand, little one?” He gives a deep thrust that takes your breath away “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll need to take a whole week off.”

The moment he flips you both on the mattress, you know you’re in for one hell of a night.

[orsuliya]

Guess what, it’s time for more married!Awu/XQ headcanons, part 2 of who knows how many. Beware of the sappiness!

Once it becomes clear that Xiao Qi and Awu have wildly different ideas about educating children, the denizens of Ningshuo Fortress draw a collective breath. Amusingly enough, it never comes to an all out fight like the one people have been expecting… but still a rather interesting time is had by all.

See, there is no doubt that raising a legion of soldiers is as much out of question as raising a glasshouse of tropical flowers… or root vegetables. That much everybody – from Ah Li Ma to Tang Jing who were both asked to consult on the matter – can agree on. The devil lies in the details. Reading and writing is paramount, but is calligraphy really necessary? Sewing is obviously a must for all, but is fanciful embroidery? Every child should be competent with at least one weapon, but ought they also learn to play instruments, even those with no particular talent for it? At least rudimentary drawing is useful all across the board, no argument to be had there.

The problem is not that Awu and Xiao Qi cannot find a compromise in each of those cases – they absolutely can. Or rather they could... if they were not so careful of offending each other. There comes a time when Xiao Qi blurts out that a princely education is no guarantee of a clear mind or an honourable heart… and then spends the next day or two being strangely apologetic. Which Awu certainly notices, for all that she has no idea what might have caused this sudden development. Yeah, that comment didn’t really register, at least not in the way Xiao Qi fears it did. And yes, Zitan is that much of a non-entity in Awu’s mind.

At the same time Awu might have been dancing around certain subjects, loathe to admit that her husband’s writing is sufficient for the purpose, but would absolutely prevent him from pursuing any kind of serious career in civil service. And since they want their kids to have options, maybe they should think about employing a calligraphy master after all.

Don’t worry, they come clear on both issues! What else are their nightly hug-discussions for, if not resolving potentially painful matters in a relaxed, constructive and mutually satisfying manner?

______________________________

Why would Awu be dancing around certain subjects related to Xiao Qi’s level of education? It’s not like he was ever particularly sensitive to such matters as class difference, right? No sign of inferiority complex there, that’s for sure. Well…

When Awu and Xiao Qi were preparing to leave the capital, Asu made an entire production out of his sister’s upcoming departure. Ningshuo, for all that it may be paradise itself – if one listens to the locals – is rather… provincial, right? No decent wine to be had, no silks, golden bathtubs, first-class inks, high-quality perfume or incense and if there is one decent guan to be had out there, then Turnip will eat his own most decorative one!

Not that Turnip ever comes out and says that Ningshuo is his idea of hell, but still. There is a reason why Xiao Qi prefers not to take part in this whole packing rigmarole; he wouldn’t want to distress his brother-in-law too much… or rather more than he already does at court. Awu takes this brotherly care with good humour; Asu is Asu and it’s true that he would never be able to make it in Ningshuo, but they’re very different Wang breeds and she has no doubts that she will absolutely thrive once there.

The thing is that once they settle in Ningshuo, Xiao Qi starts making those little comments. Nothing really overt and really, they’re made in jest more often than not… But it’s concerning all the same. Self-deprecation is not a good look on Awu’s husband! Well, it totally is, but there are much better ones, so it’s time to stage an intervention.

The next time Awu hears that a Princess like her could have never imagined she would be forced to toil in the field, she snaps. Not like they were toiling anyway – marking out the best pastures is hardly a back-breaking work! So what does she do? Well, first she waits until the evening… and then she immobilizes her husband. True, he may still try to get up while she’s in his lap, but this way he would be forced to take her with him! It’s truly diabolical.

As her second step she asks – very seriously – who is always right in their household and is it true that it’s Princess Yuzhang. Prince Yuzhang, unaware that he’s entering a trap and also rather distracted with what’s in his lap, admits that readily enough.

If Princess Yuzhang is always right, declares Awu, and I am Princess Yuzhang, then what I say must be the absolute truth. And what I say is that you are a silly, silly man. There is nobody else that I would ever wish to call my husband and nowhere that I would rather live but here, by your side, building a future for us and our children. Why, I wouldn’t exchange our current life for any crown and I am something on an expert on those.

It works rather well, that’s as much as I will say on the matter.

______________________________

They do end up employing a calligraphy master for the children. And a painting master. And a slew of other masters as some of the kids get older and develop specific talents. Besides, there is nothing that says they need to limit their educational efforts to their own legion. Ningshuo’s population is booming and there is no better time to found a school or twenty for local children.

Of course most established scholars are very used to comfort and not really used to long trips. In short order, Ningshuo becomes the number one destination for young adventurous men of letters, most rather lacking when it comes to illustrious family background. But they are not the only ones interested in moving to Ningshuo: a good number of respectable old masters also decide to do so.

Turnip Wang tries to warn his sister that she’s playing host to a whole host of dangerous free-thinkers, some of them openly critical of this whole idea of monarchy. Oh, the horror! Awu simply looks at her harried sibling with a perfectly straight face and says that she hasn’t noticed any danger other than the danger of having exceedingly eloquent dinner-companions, which sometimes means that food grows cold before anybody even starts on it. Xiao Qi is very pointedly suppressing a smile in the background.

______________________________

Xiao Qi and Awu are that unbearably cheesy married couple who remains staunchingly and embarrassingly in love even after twenty, thirty years of marriage. And they have absolutely no qualms about public displays of affection. Which leads to some rather amusing moments while at court, but that is an entirely different story.

Now, their kids – both bio and adopted – think it’s the bee’s knees that their parental units love each other so much… but could they tone it down? Just a little? Would a tiny smidge of dignity be totally out of question? There is nothing fundamentally wrong with Father picking Mother up… but must he do it in the middle of the courtyard? And let us not even speak of farewell hugs. And the teasing. Oh, the teasing!

It gets much, much worse once the kids grow up and start pairing off. See, only now do they start to realize what some of their parents’ little quirks actually mean. And most of them mean that Awu and Xiao Qi – grey hair and all – are not that far removed from a pair of newly-weds. More that one son-in-law gets absolutely flustered – some into speechlessness – by the ever-powerful hearteyes. For some reason daughters-in-law deal with this situation much better, although approximately every second one develops… certain expectations.

______________________________

Awu and Xiao Qi do not get it on nearly as often as those poor horrified kids might think. That is they do get it on quite a lot! But it’s far from the only way of marital closeness they enjoy.

The first time Awu and Xiao Qi take a bath together establishes a routine that lasts for the rest of their lives. Dressing and undressing is Awu’s time to be petted and made much of, but bathing? Ooooh, that’s a wholly different matter.

That first time they get into a tub together it’s actually Awu who sits behind Xiao Qi and starts washing him. At first he is more than a bit bashful about it and tries to turn the tables on her, but she is relentless. Finally he starts to relax and once Awu gets to washing his hair, his state can only be described as utter contentedness. There might be some neck kisses and soothing scratches to be had as well, both of which only draw him deeper into a dreamlike trance.

After the water grows cold, Awu dresses them both in soft nightime robes and leads Xiao Qi, still pretty out of it, to bed. Not to have sex, mind you. Just to lie down and breathe together, as close to each other – bodily and mentally – as it is even possible. I am not saying that Xiao Qi cries at any point… Well, of course he cries! It is the first time he’s been treated with this kind of overwhelming tenderness; experiencing such absolute depth of care and love for the first time is an earth-shattering experience for a man who had known so little of both in his life.

They take care to repeat this experience at least once a month; after the first several times Awu no longer has to propose taking a bath together. The first time he actually asks? Her heart grows two whole sizes from sheer pride.

[ressyfaerie]

Last suggestion! (I've only saw the dub & not read the manga so pls forgive if I'm wrong with this and they all know) Random headcanon that somehow Kai is the last to know about Tyson's mom passing. Idk but I feel like Kai makes a tasteless comment and the team are like dude we know this? And he's just generally ??? what? He misunderstands and thinks it's recent and speaks to Tyson but he tells him it's been years and years and he's at peace with it. Bonus if awkward hug/attempt at one from Kai 😂 (I also headcanon he's never had a hug so has no idea how to)

AWWW this sounds so cute im doin it. Oh alcohol mentions! It wrote itself but its v cute im proud of this one for sure!!!

Just teenagers being teenagers.

A night in the dojo without adult supervision and nothing to do meant stealing alcohol from the liquor cabinet and singing karaoke.

Ray and Max’s harmonies shattered eardrums.

Tyson laughed, “how can they be high and low pitched at the same time?”

Acting silly and opening up was what tonight was all about.

Even Kai got talkative after a few drinks, you could even say he was acting—

“Irresponsible! Kai get down from there!” Tyson held his sides laughing so hard he thought his lungs would collapse.

Kai hung off the edge of the couch, lounging like a rich prince.

Max hopped up beside him, “what are you doing buddy?”

“I’m a cat.”

The room fell into an uproar of laughs and giggles. Kai fell to the cushions laughing as well.

Tyson took every opportunity to jab questions into Kai.

“Favourite animal?”

“Cats.”

“Favourite food?”

“That ramen you made for us that one time.”

“Favourite dance?”

“Never done it, but I’m a fan of swing.”

“Favourite childhood toy?”

Now he got hung up on that one.

They both laid on the floor, everyone slowly joined. Music from karaoke turned on low escaped the TV surrounding the room in a comforting atmosphere.

“I never really had one.”

“Everyone had one!”

“My parents gave me a stuffed tiger.” Ray grinned while holding a pillow close to his chest, “I lost it though. Man, I loved that thing.”

Max started to talk, then stopped giggling, “I had a piece of silk.”

They laughed, Tyson was the first to respond, “a piece of silk?”

“I called it silky. I was from one of my mom’s old skirts. I would sleep with it every night when she was gone.” He chuckled, “I actually still have it.”

“Where is it?” Ray asked.

“At my dads. I keep it on my nightstand.”

Hilary was sleeping on the couch with her head on Kenny’s lap, Kenny joined the conversation with a hushed voice. “Was it hard? Having a mom that was only half there all the time?”

“Yeah. I always told myself… At least I have a mom. There’s lots of people who aren’t as lucky as me.”

“Yeah…” Kenny trailed off, knowing he had two parents that loved him, and he probably wasn’t welcome in the conversation about to ensue.

“Your Dad’s nice though.” Ray pointed out.

“I love my Dad. My Mom can be a handful…”

“Other way around for me.” Tyson had his arms folded behind his head, “at least you don’t have any crazy siblings.”

“Dude, fuck Hiro.” Kai hiccuped.

“Guess we learned Kai has a low alcohol tolerance.” Max threw a pillow at Kai to catch him off guard.

He caught it in midair.

“Ooohhhh!!” Tyson cooed in awe.

Kai grumbled,” I’m fine. I just hate that guy.”

“Well I never knew my parents thanks for asking.” Ray changed the subject delicately, Kai had a habit of getting aggressive when he talked about Hiro, he didn’t want the conversation to turn sour.

“Why not?” Tyson asked with a drunken lack of compassion.

Ray shrugged, “ it takes a village to raise a child, I guess that’s what happened.”

“Makes sense.” Tyson sat up lazily, “wanna know what my favourite toy was?”

“Hell yeah!” Max somehow had another pillow and was throwing it in the air and catching it over and over again.

“Other than Dragoon, it was this old kendo sword my mom gave me. It was an heirloom. I still have it, but I played with it so much I wore it out, I’m afraid to use it again.”

Surprisingly, it was Kai who responded.

“Wow, your Mom must have put a lot of trust in her kid to give them something like that. She must have loved you a lot.”

The room grew quiet and cold.

Kai turned to look at Tyson, who was just staring back with a blank expression.

“I’m going to go get some water.” Tyson sat up making his way to the kitchen.

As soon as they heard the door slide shut, Max shoved a fist into Kai’s chest.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”

“Idiot! Tyson’s Mom died when he was just born! He never even met her! He never talks about it because it's a bit of a touchy subject!”

Max frowned and glared at Kai.

“Sorry.” Kai started, “I never really clued in. I thought she died when he was older.”

Ray slapped a hand to his forehead, “dude, we know this.”

Kai sighed, “I’ll go apologize.”

“Yeah you better!” Max threw the pillow at him, this time Kai let it hit him, accepting his punishment weakly.

“Tyson?”

The kitchen was dimly lit, Tyson was making something at the counter.

“You want some tea Kai?”

“What kind?”

“Just green tea. Nothing special.”

Kai watched him pour the water, unsure how to start, he could still feel the effects of alcohol bouncing around his brain. He waited a moment, hoping to articulate his thoughts appropriately.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay, Kai. It’s been a long time, almost two decades, I mean—you’d think I’d be over it?”

Kai saw his eyes, slightly damp with tears.

“This is a tough subject for you. I’m sorry.”

Tyson rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, letting out a sniffle.

“I’ve always been okay with it. I guess… I’ve never known anything different. I do wish my father and brother were more present though.”

Tyson stared out the window into the darkness of night. He couldn’t see anything, but he still looked, for a long while.

Kai licked his lips before continuing, “I never knew my parents well either. They abandoned me, I have some memories of them, but not much.”

Tyson gave him his attention, and tried to change the subject, “so you would have had a favourite toy then?”

Kai suppressed a laugh, knowing what he was trying to do,” like I said, my memories of that time are fuzzy. I actually remember more of the abbey—surprisingly enough.”

“Oh.” Now Tyson was worried he had overstepped.

“Do you remember what your Mom looked like?” Kai wasn’t sure why he was pressing the subject, he normally wouldn’t.

Tyson blinked a few times, surprised by Kai’s sudden curiosity. “Um, apparently I have her hair, and her eyes. Her face was soft too, so I guess I got all my Mom’s features.”

Tyson rubbed the back of his head grinning.

Kai agreed, “thank god.”

Tyson let out a fast laugh, “ha! Did you just call my Dad ugly?”

Kai squinted his eyes, “I guess I did?”

They fell into probably the hundredth laugh attack of that night, Tyson placed his hand on Kai’s shoulder stabilizing himself.

Their laughs drifted away, Kai glanced at Tyson’s hand, then at his best friend.

“I’m sorry you never knew your mother.”

Tyson was caught off guard at Kai’s soft voice.

“I’m sorry you never really knew yours…” Tyson returned the sympathy.

Kai grinned, and bit his lip, “I’m sorry your Dad’s so ugly.”

“Ha!”

The uncontrollable giggles had Tyson holding his side, and Kai hunched over. They were so close to each other now. Tyson’s hand had drifted to Kai’s neck, he could feel his warm skin and heartbeat. Kai had gone completely against his character, and was holding Tyson’s stomach trying to prevent him from keeling over.

Then Tyson fell forward, letting his chin prop on Kai’s shoulder.

Kai was halfway to hugging him.

When he realized this, he stopped giggling, and Tyson’s irregular breathing was the only remnant of laughter left in the room.

Kai’s voice barely reached Tyson’s ear, “I’ve never hugged anyone before.”

“First.” Tyson wrapped his arms around Kai’s shoulders.

Kai held his arms out loosely, “what are you, a youtube comment?”

Short laughs, Kai felt Tyson’s chest rumble with each chuckle, he let his hands fall into Tyson’s body.

He had his arms wrapped around Tyson’ abdomen, then curled them along his back, completely unsure if what he was doing was right.

Tyson’s voice reverberated through Kai’s ears, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“What does it sound like?”

“Fast.”

They didn’t say anything.

Kai felt Tyson’s long hair against his cheek, he had never felt such soft hair, let alone so close… He breathed in.

“You smell like cedarwood and cherry blossom.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

Neither one of them had the confidence to break apart, or maybe... they didn’t want to.

Kai found his hand gliding up Tyson's spine, he felt Tyson shiver slightly at the touch. He gently played with the ends of Tyson’s blue hair, feeling it twirl through his fingers like silk.

“Are you… are you playing with my hair?” Tyson’s voice rang in disbelief.

Kai’s eyes grew wide when he noticed what he was doing. He pushed himself away, keeping one hand on Tyson’s side, he didn’t want to let go completely, out of fear he could never go back.

Tyson was in a mirror position with one hand on his shoulder.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Tyson smirked.

“You better not.”

“You can play with my hair whenever you want.”

“Can I!?” Kai took a step back after he realized how excited his voice was.

“Learn how to tie a braid and then we can talk.” Tyson pushed the envelope with his teasing.

“I’ll google it right now.”

[eluminium]

Uh oh it’s a debate! (Fic)

Well uh, I’ve been dead for half a year. But now I’m back! Schools been a bitch but Summer break is here and I’ve written something out! Lets watch two idiots argue! Tracy Spacey belongs to @reginaldcopperbottom go follow them and Lucien Rousselle belongs to @quec-two follow her too

"Conductor, with all due respect, what will we gain from this plan?"

The varying tone of the Council Members' voice felt like acid in the Conductor's ears and the pressure inside her skull only increased. Elg felt a simmering irritation nip under her skin and she swore that she just popped a blood vessel. The sleek figure of her biggest rival, Tracy Spacey, stood with arms crossed across the table, unyielding in their questioning. A predominant frown showed their dislike, along with their stiff but straight posture. The air in Elg's lungs left in a huff, and the soft padding of her fingers traced her temples in circles.

"Didn't the older members of our honorable council teach you that you should never play all your cards on one possibility?" Elg challenge as her eyes traveled over the quarreling Council Member.

"Of course they did and that is why I am objecting to this self-destructive plan." Tracy fired back, a harsh glare treating Elg's larger form as she did theirs.

"To hide a large portion of our loot from our ally is only going to inspire mistrust Conductor, and for someone who fought so hard to establish it, I find it strange you'd risk it based on unfounded paranoia." They continued with a small smirk resting on their lips, the smugness leaking off their words.

Elg's lips were sealed while her form rose from her seat, the wooden chair digging into her hand. Her head lolled to the side, not unlike a curious dog.

"Unfounded paranoia? Mind elaborating on that?" She questioned, her fingers tightening around the rim of the chair.

"Tell me, do we have any reason to not trust The Masqueraiders and their leadership?" They spoke while their legs carried them towards the nearest window, gloved hands moving from gripping the other arm to gripping each other behind their back.

"There is no evidence of backstabbing after all." They continued.

"At the moment...Yes, there is no evidence of betrayal from our ally" The Conductor admitted through grit teeth, feeling the annoyance bubble in her veins as her eyes bore into the Council Member.

A satisfied sneer sneaked onto their face as their body twirled around to meet Elgs, displaying a feeling of victory and command despite standing a fair distance away from the Conductor.

"Then why are we having this debate in the first place? Order the Metallics to cease the transfer-"

The chasm that leaked words abruptly stopped as their gaze locked onto the finger that rose into the air, signifying them to shut up. A simple gesture for most, but those used to debates with the Conductor, it's a warning. Tracy felt a similar rage seething in their veins as the Conductor, but they chose to obey, crossing their arms with a grunt and a glare. They were however curious of what her counter would be.

Elg, satisfied with Tracy's silence, spoke.

"You are correct by saying there is no evidence of dishonesty from our ally-"

A snobbish glint danced in their eyes as they kept eye contact with Elg. In response, Elg's feet carried her forwards, closing the gap between them ever so slightly.

"-But have you forgotten what world we operate in Council Member?" She continued sharply while her steps danced closely to Tracy's personal space. Tracy felt their body react by taking a step back, and their arms sneaked back into a defensive position.

"I don't follow your line of thinking, Conductor" They rumbled as a counter, their asphalt-colored gaze hardening as they were locked with Elg's sharp ocean blue eyes.

With a confident step forward, and a small squeak from Tracy as their personal space was breached, Elg felt a dark chuckle escape her lungs.

"We're criminals, Council Member. We operate in a space where betrayal is rewarded greatly, and so are the Masqueraiders. Yes, they might not plan to betray us now, but in the future? Anything is possible. Besides, they might be planning to stab us in the back right now, we just haven't noticed."

For a split second, the room was silent. Not a single sarcasm-filled sound bounced off the metal walls. The only noises either of their ears could pick up were their own and the other's breathing. The space between them barely existed, their chests squished up against each other. Despite Tracy slightly outclassing Elg in height, Elg's more bulky form made them look quite small pressed up against her. The stillness continued. Tracy's mind drew a blank, Elg waited for a response.

But as the clock in Tracy's pocket ticked, both their gazes averted and both moved back a step, with the Conductor doing it calmly while the Council Members step was more panicky. Despite this, Elg quickly reestablished eye contact, refusing to look away until Tracy gave them an answer. Tracy, in their turn, fumbled a bit.

"D-Don't you think I know that?!" They spat out, flustered, while their body moved into a guarded stance. Their spine was erected and their foot hit the floor repeatedly.

"Well, If you did maybe you wouldn't be so naive!" Elg snarled back angrily, the rage in her blood starting to boil over. Both their tones drowned the room in toxicity.

"Don't patronize me, Conductor! I'm not a fucking child!"

"Stop acting like one then!"

"Oh, I could say the same to you! You're putting the stability of our alliance in peril because of some childish fear!"

"Why do you even care so much?! You were one of the biggest opponents of said alliance in the beginning! You fought tooth and bloody nail to prevent it, constantly calling me a false conductor who doesn't care about her people! And now that I'm actually prioritizing the Bowties you fucking fight me on it! What happened?!"

Their feet shifted their balance to their toes as a preventive scoff left them. Their body kept dragging in itself.

"It doesn't matter! People are allowed to change their god damn opinions Conductor!"

Suddenly, something clicked in the Conductors head, and her stare once again traveled over the huffing Council Member. The defensive position, the avoidance of the question, the almost fearful tone in their voice, bouncing around in her ear...

"You gotta be kidding me" She muttered spitefully, her stare turning into a glare.

"Wha-?" Tracy started but was caught off guard by the Conductors' sudden change in volume.

"It's that wasp-looking guy isn't it?! Lucien Rousselle, right?!" She raised her voice, the sound of fury echoing.

"W-What about him?! What the hell are you on?!" Tracy spluttered, a red heat traveling through their cheeks.

"Don't play dumb with me you clock-obsessed moron! It's so obvious even I can see it! I see the looks you give him! You're prioritizing your dainty little feelings over the safety of our faction!" Elg roared, the stomp of her steps slowly approaching Tracy once again.

"U-Uh n-no! That's not true! Uhm...uh...but but BUT WHAT ABOUT WEASLEY? YOU TWO ARE CLOSE! DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK HE'D BETRAY YOU? YOU THINK HE'S JUST ANOTHER LUIGRA?!" Tracy bit back, panic rushing through their bones. They HAD to change the topic, and fast. Even if it meant hitting some weak spots.

Now it was Elg's turn to be completely bewildered. Her footsteps ground to a halt as she was forced to recalibrated her brain.

"What the...What?! Just because we're close and work together doesn't mean I'd sacrifice the safety of my fellow Bowties! And don't you DARE compare him to that...that greedy blue-haired fucker!" Elg stuttered out, confusion and anger dribbling off her voice.

"Well, maybe you should ACT like it then you daft idiot!"

"Hah! Rich for you to say love bird!"

"S-Shut up! I'm not in love with a fucking economics minister! You tried to teach Weasley how to play fucking POOL yesterday!"

"That has nothing to do with ANYTHING-"

"Oh doesn't it-?!"

"Conduta' Elg?"

Both of their mouths clamped shut as that familiar Arabic voice filled the room.

"Y...Yeah, Aynan?" Elg huffed out, completely out of breath from the shouting match.

"We nee' to le'ave tha' area soon, ya nee' to prepa' tha' train" He continued, his words soft and delicate like a cloud.

"Yes, yes of course. I'll head out now" Elg responded, her body taking her towards the door like she was on autopilot, with her Young Soul waiting outside.

Before she left the room, she once again stared into Tracy's thundercloud-like eyes. They were both gasping a bit, exhausted from the dispute turned screaming match. She was met by anger, confusion, and fear. Her own sky blue gaze showed similar emotions. From this, both of them knew this debate was far from over, and that they'd clash again one day soon.

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! Chap. 8 [The End]

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 8 "Born To Run” out now! The Last Chapter!

AO3 Link

Illumi Zoldyck has rarely made mistakes in his life, and any mistake was met with immediate punishment. It was supposed to lead to a perfect adult life, free of foolish mistakes and mishaps, for the prosperity and safety of the family.

But now there was an arm curled around his side, hot breath hitting his neck in a steady rhythm as the morning sun was rising, and there was no other way to say it:

He fucked up.

He let himself be lured into the lion’s den, and now the ‘lion’ was curled up asleep next to him, hair a mess, and a self-satisfied smile on his bruised lips.

Hooking up with Hisoka was objectively a mistake, but it wasn’t going to be the end of the world. He was an adult after all, capable of making his own decisions regarding relationships of any nature. Furthermore, whether this was going to be a temporary or a more permanent ordeal, the long distance would keep Hisoka far away enough from any family affairs, and with enough bribery it could kept out of the public eye.

Illumi grabbed his phone from the nightstand, disconnected the charger, and ignored the half-asleep murmurs from the other side of the bed. Whatever thiswas, could work out, no repercussions, no mistak-

’18 Missed Calls from Mother’.

Oh No.

.

.

’27 Missed Calls from Mother. 19 Missed Calls from Father’.

“Oh, my folks are soooo pissed right now.” Killua snorted and pocketed his phone again. Gon and him had decided to take a trip to a larger city that framed the Area that the young boy lived in, mainly to buy essentials that Killua didn’t remember to pack for himself, which resulted in him finally having phone reception again. Mito insisted on driving them there, mumbling something about keeping them under control, but generously stayed behind in a café to give the boys some space. It’s been almost 3 days since Killua had arrived, and so far, nothing had been set on fire and there were no trips to the ER, which she considered a personal win. The afternoon sun was beating harshly on them, at least to the standards of the young boy who had spent most of his life either in mildly weathered England or sheltered in the shade cool shade of the Japanese mountain-mansion.

“Aren’t you afraid that they are going to punish you?” Gon frowned.

“What are they goin’ to do? Double take my computer away? House arrest? I could probably set the world record at breaking out. They are just mad that I’m not dancing to their tune, like my stupid brother. My dad’s not even home most of the time, so I don’t know why he’d care.” He stopped in front of a clothing store that advertised bright flower-print shirts. “These look awful, we need them.”

His friend laughed but nodded his head enthusiastically.

There was something incredibly exciting about having a friend. Someone who agreed to go along with your whims and spontaneous ideas, not because they are paid to or want to gain something from it, but because they actively want to.

Inside the store, the boys decided to pick out shirts for each other, determined to dress the other one as ridiculous as possible, hiding whatever they picked out from the racks while giggling like madmen. After a couple of minutes, they shoved each other into separate dressing room cabins, and exchanged the meticulously picked out shirts via throwing them over the cabin separations.

Killua disregarded his black sleeveless hoodie vest and quickly clothed himself in the new shirt without having properly looked at it, to preserve the surprise. On a count of three, the boys simultaneously stepped out of the changing rooms, and stood next to each other, in front of a large mirror.

Gon wore a dark green shirt with the repeating pattern of a shirtless Santa Clause in a lawn chair, with sunglasses and a cocktail in hand. Killua had a galaxy print button-up with various pictures of cats with taco and burrito bodies.

The young teens stood there in silence for a second, before they broke out in loud laughter.

“You look like you’re a middle-aged dad on vacation with his wife Karen!” Killua snorted.

“Well, you look like your name is ‘Bradley’ and you sell knock-off sunglasses on the beach!” Gon replied, and as the boys continued to laugh, he slapped Killua lightly on the upper arm.

Barely a touch, really, and yet: “YEOWCH!”, Killua flinched back.

“Woah, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, that just kind of stung weirdly. Maybe you’re loaded with electricity or something.” And Gon was ready to write it off, before he got a good look at Killua in the dimmed lights of the shop, away from the bright sun.

“Hey, get your arm out of that sleeve.”

“Huh? Why- “Before he could object, his arm was already being yanked out of the, frankly too big, sleeves of the tacky shirt. “What the hell, Gon?!”

“Killua, did you put on sunscreen this morning?”

“Uh, no? Sunscreen is for dorks.”

By now, Gon could barely supress his laughter, cheeks puffed out to hold it back. “I can tell.”

Killua looked back into the mirror and stared. There was a clear divide between the skin on his shoulder that had been covered by his vest until now, pale porcelain skin inherited from his mother, and the rest of his arm that had been exposed to the sun, now glowing bright red. Cautiously he pressed a finger against his skin, but retracted it immediately with a hiss as a burning sensation shot through his arm.

Gon laughed again, though this time with a bit more sympathy, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we have something at home against that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to rip off my skin, that’s not cool.”

“Nope! That comes later, all by itself.”

And Killua laughed, as they made their way towards the cashier, because of course they were going to buy those hideous shirts.

“…Wait, you weren’t serious, were you? Gon?!”

.

.

.

“This is the medicine?” Killua looked at the large plant with scepticism.

“Yup!” Mito took a kitchen knife and sliced off one of the larger leaves. She sliced the leaf vertically and squeezed out transparent goo from it into a bowl, which she handed to the boy with a smile. “There you go. Aloe is good for your skin and will help with the burning.”

A cautious look toward Gon, who didn’t seem suspicious at all, and Killua took the bowl. “Thanks.”

“And starting tomorrow you’ll put on sunscreen before you go anywhere near the sun, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rolled his eyes with a smile, and the boys went back upstairs to Gons room before Mito would call them back later for dinner. Killua immediately jumped on his sleeping cot, eyed and poked at the contents on the bowl. “So, I just slap this on?”

“Yep!” Gon threw his shopping bag into his closet and flopped on his own bed.

A couple of moments passed, Killua continued to poke at the plant-goo. He wasn’t going to admit out loud that it looked gross, the consistency weirded him out, and that he thought he was being pranked. Though in the end, he didn’t have to say anything, as Gon sat next to him and took the bowl from him. “Looking at it isn’t going to help. Here- “He took the others boy wrist and yanked his arm forward. With his other hand, Gon started to smear Aloe Vera on Killuas arm, who briefly hissed before he relaxed at the welcoming cold of the mixture. The heat and stinging of the sunburn slowly subsided.

While his friend was already getting to work on his other arm, without being asked to, all Killua could think about is that this was…nice. He experienced something new even if it hurt a bit. He didn’t get scolded for it, but instead was just told how to prevent it for his own health. And now his friend was helping him with this as well- because he cares. This shouldn’t be something new to kids his age, he knew this, but the past few days still felt like something secret he unlocked, invisible to everyone else. A welcoming, caring environment, a vast open space to freely explore, not alone but with someone who looks out for you and who you want to look out for, too.

Suddenly, two cold hands were at either side of Killuas face, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. He flinched with a yelp of surprise, though the others grip on his face kept him in place. “Hold still, you burned your face as well.”

Killua gently but assertively took Gons hands in his and slowly removed them. “I’m good, really.” He hesitated and looked at both their hands. “…I’m really happy that you’re doing all of this for me.”

“Don’t worry, I used to get tons of sunburns when I was little!” Gon snorted, and Killua gave him a playful nudge against his arm.

“I don’t just mean this, I mean like…everything. I’m happy you’re my friend. I didn’t think that could be this nice.” He looked nervously at his hands, uncomfortable with the sudden vulnerability, though before he could react, Gon pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m happy we’re friends too, Killua. And no matter what happens, I will always be your friend. That’s a promise!”

Killua let himself be hugged for just a few seconds longer, indulged in the kind of physical intimacy that he now felt had been seriously lacking in his life.

“Gon! Killua! Dinner’s ready!”

The boys immediately separated and jumped of the sleeping cot with overlapping “Good talk”s and snickering, before they chased each other down the stairs and into the dining hall. Downstairs they were greeted by a sweet, savoury smell as Mito heaved a large pot onto the wooden table, decked with 3 dinner plates and another larger bowl with mashed potatoes. Gon was the first to arrive at the pot and took a curious peek inside. “Short ribs! Nice!”

“I thought that if I give you boys something you can stuff yourselves with, maybe you’ll be too full to spend the entire night up again playing video games.” She gestured for them to sit down with a proud smile. The teens didn’t hesitate and helped themselves immediately to full plates, the aroma of the food spread even more throughout the room.

As Killua tried to slice into the ribs, the meat parted from the bone after barely just a touch. As he took a bite, the tender meat tasted sweet, spicy, and everything in between. “These are the best ribs I’ve ever had. No Doubt.”

Mito laughed. “They better be! The trick to getting the meat this tender is to really just let them sit in the slow cooker for a full 9 hours, better even 10, and only interrupt to season to taste now and then.”

“Mhm. You know, I don’t think my mom even knows how to cook.”

“…Do you know how to cook, Killua?”

“Pff, no. Why?”

Gon swallowed another large bite of food before speaking. “Not even breakfast eggs?”

“Nope!” Killua continued to eat, as Gon and Mito exchanged a somewhat concerned look.

“Killua, would you like to help me cook breakfast tomorrow? We could try making pancakes.” Mito tried not to sound condescending as she suggested this, and Gon supported her with enthusiastic nodding.

“I-…Sure. But don’t blame me if anything catches on fire, okay?” The group laughed, and the rest of the dinner passed by peacefully, until the landline phone rang.

Mito got up and cleared her throat before answering. “Hello? …” She glanced at Killua. “…Mhm, sorry, who is this?” She covered the receiver with a worried look. “Killua, do you have a brother named Illumi?”

In a matter of seconds Killua had gotten up and snatched the phone from Mitos hand. “What.”

“Killu, it’s Illumi, how are you enjoying your spontaneous vacation?”

“How did you get this number?”

“I’ve got my ways.”

“Are your ways called Milluki?”

“Doesn’t matter. I hope you had fun these couple of days, but its time to come home. Mother is worried sick. If you come back now, you may even get your computer back.”

“HA! Fat chance. I’m too busy getting sun burned, buying ugly clothes and- and I’m going to learn how to cook with my friend tomorrow. So, suck it and leave me alone.”

There was a deep sigh at the other line, and what sounded like a second person snickering. “Killu, you have 24 hours to pack your things, book a plane, and think about how to properly apologize to mother and father for the trouble you have caused. If you fail to do so, I am going to have to come over there and take you back myself.”

“Don’t forget to pack sunglasses and sunscreen, Illumi. Bye.”

“Kil-“

Killua slammed the phone back into the loading station and sat back down at the table as if nothing happened. Silence weighed heavy in the room, but Mito was the first to find her words again and walked over to Killua to put a supporting hand on his shoulders.

“Are you alright, Killua?”

“Yeah! He’s kind of a control freak, I’m used to it.”

“But what’s going to happen when he actually gets here?” Gon asked nervously, though Killua merely shrugged as a response.

“Don’t know. Probably house arrest, maybe they are going to take my phone away but I’m sure I can just take my little brothers if I ask nicely.”

“This is so unfair… You practically just got here! There’s so much more I wanted to do together with you! And if they take your phone, we can’t even talk once you leave…”

And Killua was about to try to give some reassuring statements, but then it struck him-

“Hey, Gon, remember when you thought that me coming over spontaneously was kind of wild, crazy, but fun?”

“Y-yes?”

“Wanna do something wild, crazy, but fun with me?”

The woman behind him picked up faster on what he meant than Gon did. “Wait a min-“

“Huh?”

“Want to go to Japan with me?”

“Yes! Of course!!” Gon started to slap the table in excitement.

“We can visit my sister, and there’s servants there who definitely won’t snitch on us, and we can go hiking in the mountains! It’s great!”

“There’s so much food I want to try! And we need to go to one of those cool Zoos!”

“Definitely!! And there’s this great-

“Boys…”

“Hell yeah! Maybe there will be- “

“BOYS!”

The teens stopped in the middle of their lively conversation and starred at Mito; eyes blown.

“Do you seriously think you can just take a plane together, while running away from your family, without any supervision?”

Killua hesitated before speaking up. “Well, I did make it over here…”

“And now you’re in trouble with your family!”

The young boy sighed and hung his head in defeat, to which his friend took his hand in an attempt at comfort. Gon had the most well-trained puppy eyes, which locked onto Mito as their target.

“Well, if you had adult supervision though…”

Immediately both of the teens jumped up and hugged her. “Of course you can come!” “It’s going to be so much fun!”.

And as Killua explained how he can book last minute tickets to the nearest airport where his sister resided, Mito thought to herself that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. But maybe that didn’t matter. Because rarely had she seen Gon that happy, and maybe taking a risk once in a while for the sake of someone else wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

.

.

.

“He hung up on me.” Illumi dropped his phone and starred at the wall.

“Well, did you really expect he was going to be obedient and say, ‘why yes dear brother I am on my way home right away’?” Hisoka was still in bed and rolled around leisurely, seemingly not a care in the world, though his grin was telling that he enjoyed the situation unfolding in front of him immensely. Illumi had been pacing the room ever since his mother called, hair a mess and Hisokas bathrobe half-heartedly thrown on, it was a welcomed view.

“He was supposed to. But this is fine. I can manage this.”

“Mmh, sell me on your plan~”

“I’m going to pack my things, then I will fly back home, make sure mother is well cared for, and then fly to Australia to drag my little brother home by his ears if I have to.”

“Then let me ask you this, caro mio:” The artist slowly separate himself from the comfort of his bed, and stood behind Illumi, slender fingers carefully combing through the black, sleek hair. “Have you ever been to Australia?”

“No, but I don’t see how that should be a problem.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you had a guide? Someone who isn’t going to chase you down some backroad that’ll turn into a dead end 30 kilometres in?”

Illumi turned around to face his weird companion. “When have you been to Australia?”

“I’ve been around~” He lied smoothly, one hand running along Illumis chin. “Doesn’t a little road-trip together just sound lovely? I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour~”

“Somehow I have trouble believing that. And even if I would agree to have you accompany me to Australia, I have to drop by home first, and I don’t want you stepping foot anywhere near our property.” Illumi slapped his hand away. “I might come visit after Killua is back home, though.” He turned to go and pack his things, but Hisoka had an arm around his waist and kept him still.

“Tesoro, listen to yourself. Your mother has a billion butlers, your father, and your siblings by her side. Why don’t you fly to Australia immediately to get the job done quickly? Otherwise, you’re just inefficiently wasting time, aren’t you?”

“You do have a point, unfortunately…” He tilted his head to the side, and immediately felt warm lips on his neck. “Still doesn’t mean I’m going to take you with me.”

“What if I say please?”

“How old are you?”

“What if I contact Machi for you and negotiate a collab that will contractually play out majorly in your favour?” Illumi let the thought run through his mind and considered the pros and cons. “And I won’t show anyone the candid photo that is my screensaver now~” Before he could ask what he meant, Hisoka was dangling his phone in front of him, with a shirtless picture of Illumi as his screensaver, just as promised.

“Hey- Give me that!”

Hisoka jumped out of slapping-range and snickered. “Take me to Australia, and that will turn back into a picture of myself.”

“This is blackmail, and I can sue you for this.”

“See you in court, amore.”

“Fine! If you insist, you can come with me. But I will bury your body in the desert if you give me enough reason to.”

Immediately Hisoka threw himself at Illumi. “Yay~! Our first couples’ vacation!”

“We aren’t…forget it.” Illumi sighed, though Hisoka could have sworn he saw a slight smile as he pressed a kiss to the designer’s cheek.

What’s the worst that could happen?

[elatedmarvel]

Arms

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky learns to accept all parts of himself, even the vibranium parts. 

Word Count: 5,353

A/N: This is the longest one shot I’ve ever written, and it took me like a month. (I’m very slow lol). In keeping with BLM and inclusion, please let me know if you feel the reader is described a certain way that is not encompassing of all. I’ve tried my best, but I’m only human and editing is hard. Hope you enjoy!

He remembers when he first woke up with it. 

He could have sworn that he was dead, and he was in hell. All he could feel was pain everywhere, but specifically in his left arm. Pain he had never felt before and now he thinks he’ll feel forever. His parents always joked him that he would go to hell if he didn’t stop flirting with every skirt he saw, and now he wishes he could tell them they were right. 

Voices float above him, but he can’t make out what they’re saying, everything sounds garbled and distorted to his ears. 

It takes a moment for him to realize that the men are speaking in a different language. 

Blinding white lights greet him as he opens his eyes and squints against the harshness. Silhouettes of shapes is all his brain can comprehend, and he blinks a few more times before he is able to actually see.

The dingy room has seen better days. The walls are lined with tile, with mildew and mold in between them. It’s dark everywhere else, except the bright light that shines down on him. 

It’s hard for him to move his head side to side, let alone move the rest of his body, but he tries to wiggle his toes and fingers. 

A metal appendage lays at his left side.

He stares at the foreign object, trying to make sense of the fact that he can feel his left arm, but what he sees is not the limb he remembers.

His brain commands him to lift it, to see if this was real. When it not only moves where he wanted, but he can see his fingers wiggling, he realizes that this is worse than hell. 

He runs his right hand up the entire metal limb, and he can feel the dull sensation. His panic increases the higher he can feel metal. He gets to the edge of his chest before he feels flesh and bone again. 

Gasping, he claws at where the foreign object meets his chest, trying to get it off of him. The more awake he becomes, the more pain radiates from the arm, like his body was rejecting it. 

His sudden movements and noises of pain alert the men in white coats around him. He’s sure his eyes are frantic; he must look like a caged and frightened animal. 

They rush to him, trying to undo the damage he has clawed in.

When they get close enough, he grabs them both by the neck, trying to protect himself. This only causes them to start shouting and the doors burst open.

It’s hard for him to process what is happening, all he feels is adrenaline pumping through his body, and it reacts accordingly.

He can feel the pop of the bones before he hears the sickening crunch. If he was more aware of what was happening, he’s sure he would have thrown up.  

The man he grabbed with his left hand falls to the floor in a heap, unmoving.

In all his time serving with the howling commandos, he’s killed a few people, but never as intimately. He could just pull a trigger, throw a grenade, or stab someone. He’s never had to look them in the eye, and feel the life drain out of him. 

Sweat and fear pour out of his pores now, he didn’t mean to. His hand moved faster than he could react. 

Not his hand, the weapon attached to him now. 

The shouting only gets louder around him, but it’s muffled now. He stares in horror at the metal fingers, and the lifeless body on the floor. 

He can’t even feel when they prick him with a syringe filled with tranquilizer.

The image burns itself into his mind as everything grows dark.  

The next 10-15 years follow the same pattern. 

He wakes up slowly out of cryo. In his groggy state, he panics every time he sees the arm. He goes to claw at his chest where it is connected, but he’s eventually stopped when they realize he’s awake. 

They try to break him. 

Hydra does everything they can, any form of torture. But he’s strong. He resists every attempt, and finally they have had enough.

One day, they plop him in a metal chair and run currents through his skull. 

It takes 2 more years of this before finally he stops scratching at the arm. Before he fully loses himself.

~~~

When he finally escapes from Hydra’s grip, he hates the arm with everything in him. He tries anything he can think of to remove it from his body, short of just cutting into himself more. 

The arm only causes death and destruction. It is synonymous with Hydra and the evil he unwittingly committed. 

He still remembers how they thought they bestowed a great gift upon him, making him into the fist of Hydra. They think they saved him, but they chipped away at his soul until there was barely anything left in him. 

When Shuri was kind enough to erase the trigger words from his brain, she had offered him a new arm. One that was not tainted with the bloody memories of Hydra. 

It took him months of therapy, and many long, late night talks with Steve, Natasha, and Sam to accept the arm. He wanted to repent for the blood he has spilled, intentional or not, and he couldn’t do it with one arm. 

It was beautiful, gun metal grey with gold intertwining the plates. It reminded him of the exhibit that Steve had dragged him to at the Met. 

Kintsugi, Steve had told him. The art of repairing something with gold.

“It was never broken to begin with, just being made whole and better” Steve had said to them as they wandered around. He pretended the tears in his eyes were from the dust in the museum, and lightly punched Steve on the arm. 

~~~

You were in the ring with Sam. 

Someone new, and that scared Bucky. He had slowly built a relationship with the rest of the team in the last few months he had been at the compound, and trust didn’t come easy. Countless nights he would be invited to movies, or dinner and drinks. He turned them all down the first few weeks he had been there. It wasn’t until Sam and Steve literally dragged him to the bar that he started to open up.

You somehow got along with everyone on the team, and had won everyone over in a matter of weeks. You geeked out over the newest electronics with Tony, and tried to help Bruce with his research. Wanda and you had holed up in a room for days binging the newest season of some reality show you loved. Natasha and you had survived multiple Barre classes, something that even made Sam cry. You and Steve had even started painting to Bob Ross videos together. 

It was like there was a you-shaped gap waiting to be filled on the team. 

He watches from his sparring dummy as you tease Sam. You dance around him easily, and dodge out the way of yet another unsuccessful punch. 

His sensitive hearing picks up on Sam’s heavy breathing, but anyone could see the exacerbated rise and fall of his chest, and the buckets of sweat gleaming under the fluorescent lighting. 

You laugh as he tries to distract you with a kick and punch from opposite sides. 

“Nice try birdy” you call out as you evade him once more.

“Stay still!” Sam huffs, he hasn’t felt this out of shape since he was a chubby 13 year old with a love of cheetos and hate of exercise.

In his last effort to take you down, he swipes left and right, never giving up. You move further and further back, unsure how to handle the sudden change in tactics.

You don’t notice how close to the edge of the ring you are. 

Tony, being the dramatic shit he was, decided to build the sparring ring higher up then normal. Like a pedestal he once proclaimed. He wanted all to be able to watch.

Sam and you had forgone putting up the side ropes, wanting to get in as much sparing as possible. 

The fall was probably only a few feet of the ground, but definitely enough to sprain something, or even worse, get a concussion. 

He sees you near the edge, Sam still swinging a way. His lust for revenge prevented him from seeing you were about to fall.

Bucky leaps the 10 feet in between him and you right as your foot falls off the edge. He reaches up and puts most of your weight on his left arm, catching you before you fell to the floor, holding you for a few seconds before slowly bringing you to floor level.

He sets you down gently and almost laughs at the comical expression on your face. Eyes wide and jaw dropped, unable to comprehend what had just happened in the span of a few seconds. 

“I-I… thank you” you stuttered. Stilled flustered by the fall, but even more flustered that it was Bucky that caught you. You two had maybe exchanged 20 words total in the 2 months that you had been on the team. 

Bucky does a once over at you before nodding and walking back to the sparring dummy.

Sam watches this all with amusement, before coming down and offering to buy you ice cream to make up for the fall. 

~~~

Hit. Block. Punch. Duck. Repeat. 

Watching you take down your opponents was like watching a ballet. You were graceful, and lithe. Moving with your counterpart, they never even realized you were a threat until they were out.

Since your fall a month ago, you and Bucky have been growing closer. It was hard not to when you were so light and bright. It blinded him slightly, before he grew accustomed to the warmth he felt when he was near you. Now he never wanted to be parted from it. 

Naturally, when this mission had come up, Bucky had begged Steve to pair you with him. He knew he would only have peace of mind if he was with you at all times.

Not that you needed the help.

About a dozen men lay sprawled around you, and the last three were soon to join their colleagues on the floor. If they weren’t such vile men, he would almost feel bad for them. Being laid to waste by someone who didn’t look like she could hurt a fly. 

He registers the movement about a second too late, his mouth won’t connect to his brain and shout what he wants it to. One of the men you had already taken down lifts his head and arm, he just sees a flash of silver in the man’s palm before he sprints the length of the room. Your back is to him, and you still have 1 more attacker to take down, he takes all of your attention.

It happens in a second. You take your final shot at the henchman and then you see Bucky running to you. You feel the warmth of him as he embraces you, pulling you forward. The momentum causes you to stumble and brings you both down, you on top of him.

The ping of the bullet is thundering in the echoing, concrete room. He barely even registers the feeling before pulling out his gun and shooting the attacker. Watching for a moment to make sure he was actually dead, he looks down at you.

“Bucky” you stutter out, and he can feel your slight tremors. The whiplash must be settling in and the adrenaline wearing off, not a fun combination.

He looks you up and down, and even though he knows he blocked the bullet with his vibranium arm, he can’t help the anxiety that rises in his chest. He doesn’t see anything wrong besides the bruises and small scratches.

Meeting your eyes, it instantly takes the breath out of him. The look of pure awe spread on your face, but he can feel the admiration that is in your eyes,

It takes everything to not close the 5 inch gap to your lips and see if they are as soft as he’s imagined. 

“You ok?” he asks one more time, voice cracking from the dryness in his throat.

You nod up at him, keeping eye contact. 

Without a warning, you press your face into his neck and wrap your arms around him. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you” you say profusely. You move to sit on top of him in a flash and grab his left arm. He’s powerless underneath you as you examine the shiny appendage. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask, wonder in your voice as your fingers graze the sides of his arms. He’s glad for the pain he endured when they fitted him with this new arm, he can feel the softness and warmth of your hands, almost like if it were his own flesh. 

“No” he replies, eyes locked on where you hold his wrist.

Gently, so gently he can barely feel it, you press a kiss to the slight dent where the bullet impacted. Now he swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 

There’s a lingering heat where your lips touched, maybe even burning. 

If his mouth was dry before, it’s now the desert, and he clears his throat before looking away. His face is hot, and he’s thankful for the dim lighting in the basement. 

He misses the sly smirk on your face before you get up and offer your hand to him. 

~~~

After the mission, you had gone with him to get his arm repaired. He tried to tell you that it would take a few minutes at most and you didn’t need to go with him, but you just smiled and led the way. You held his flesh hand while they fixed some wiring issues and un-dented the hand. If he squeezes your hand more often than necessary, then who would know?

One month passes and he is always at your side. He goes more often to movie nights, team dinners, and outings. There’s always a spot right by your side, and it takes only a few days for everyone to know it was reserved for a certain brunette. 

The second month rolls around and it finds him as your permanent partner. Missions for two would always be assigned to you and him. You two would spar for hours on end, touches lingering for longer than needed. If you needed to run errands, he would be right there with you. 

Month three passes in a loving haze. It’s rare to see one of you without the other. Even nights were spent in your room after you had both fallen asleep while watching Star Wars. You made him come with you to your yoga classes, and he made you go with him to cooking classes.

It’s like the sun had finally come out. The permanent scowl and dark circles were replaced with grins and smile lines. He can’t remember the last time he was as carefree as he was around you. 

It was hard to ask you out. He was nervous. What if he misread the hand holding and cuddling? Could he go back to being just your friend if it didn’t work out?

But the moment he saw you across the gym, sweaty and heaving but with a giant grin on your face as you box with Steve, he knew it would be worth it.

So here he was, your favorite flowers in hand, buttoned up shirt and nice jeans adorning his body, walking to your door to pick you up for your first date. 

In the back of his mind, he mocks himself for being so scared to ask you. Your face had lit up when he had.

Knocking on the door, he steps away and gives himself a once over. He tells himself he’s not nervous, but the erratic beating of his heart tells a different tale. 

The door opens, and there you are. A vision in your favorite dress, small smile on your face. 

All he can do is stare dumbstruck at you. While you were always gorgeous to him, the fact that you had dressed up for him makes him want to cry.

“Bucky?” you ask, waving a hand in his face and giggling. 

“You’re stunning” he says back, hand coming up to rub his neck. He suddenly

remembers the flowers when he feels the water drip on the collar of his shirt.

“These are for you” and the smile on your face grows. You take a big whiff of them

before sneezing 3 times in rapid succession. 

“Guess I got carried away” you giggle, and just like that the nerves fade. 

The drive to the restaurant he had reserved was filled with would you rathers that made you laugh so hard, you couldn’t breathe. Your impression of the stuffy waiter had him choking on his water.

Everything was going so well, he let his guard down.  

The men in ski masks that came from the kitchen to round everyone up were a shock to both of you. Instantly, people scatter, some making it out of the door in time, and others being held hostage and led to the kitchen.

You can both tell when they realize they have avengers in their midsts when the guns turn to aim at you. He flips the table to its side as you move to duck behind it. Drawing a gun from your clutch, you hand it to him. Bucky was always the better shot. And you arm yourself with a widow bites and click the button on your Stark Watch 3 times in rapid succession. 

He hears the panic in their voices as they radio to each other. Obviously, they were not expecting any resistance, let alone 2 highly trained agents.

You look at him, and he knows exactly what you have in mind.

The moment you leap sideways and engage, he pops over the table and aims at anyone with a gun. You move quickly and gracefully around those that were foolish enough to actually engage you. He takes down as many as possible with the gun, and when the clip runs out, he engages the targets closest to you. 

Soon there is only 1 left, shaking and yelling at you both to back up. Bucky is pretty sure he’s new, the tremor in his voice and hands gives him away. It wouldn’t be that difficult to take him out.  

Bucky joins your side, and you both approach hesitantly, not wanting to spook him. 

“Stay back” he yells. Bucky sees the glint of green before the man fully pulls out the grenade. His heart sinks into his stomach.  

“Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Bucky states, already wedging himself between you and the man. He calculates if there was anyway to get you out of the building. 

“Just stay calm, we’re not going to hurt you.” You say, laying the widow bites at your feet. Bucky does the same with his empty gun. 

His wild eyes keep glancing between you and Bucky. He slowly tries to inch his way towards the man, hoping he makes it to the grenade before he throws it. 

The stand-still comes to an end when the man pulls the pin and launches the grenade in the air.

“No!” Bucky shouts, and he pulls you both under the nearest table, his body covering yours. The deafening blast goes off right as you both get under the table.  

He feels your fast breaths against his chest, and he pulls your head into the crook of his neck. Arms in a braced stance, supporting him as he tries to keep his weight off of yours. He’s pretty sure the table above them cracked with the weight of the rubble falling on it. 

He looks down to your face and sees the fear in your eyes. It was one thing to be shot at, but another to be buried alive.  

“It’s gonna be ok” he whispers, and you nod. You know that Bucky would do everything he could to get you both out. Forcing yourself to take calming breaths, you knew it wouldn’t help to panic right now.   

Once he feels the dust settle, he braces himself against the broken table, trying to see if he could lift the ruble off of you both. There’s a groan as the concrete settles more firmly in place, but nothing lets up. 

The Stark watch on your wrist vibrates, and though he can’t see the screen, he knows it means the Avengers are coming. 

“Bucky” you say, voice trembling. It brings him back to the conversation you had about your biggest fears. Being buried alive was at the top of the list after falling into a pit when you were 7 years old. 

“It’s going to be ok” he tries to reassure, but the fear in your eyes has him trying to break you out. 

Slowly, he shifts his weight to his right arm, and braces the broken table with his left. Putting all his weight behind the vibranium arm, he pushes up. He’s not sure if the groans are from him or the concrete slabs, but he feels something pop and then shift above him. 

Suddenly, the weight feels lighter and he can hear the concrete falling. Hope bursts in his chest as more light floods into the burrow and space starts to expand.

Moving his knees and feet, he gets into a crouched position to give himself more power as the rubble starts to fall away. 

Your voice and encouragement gives him a surge of energy and he finds himself standing in the dusty opening of what used to be a restaurant. 

“Y/n!” he calls as he moves back down and cradles you in his arms, lifting you on top of the pile of rubble. 

“Bucky that was incredible!” you shout as he comes to join you and helps you down. Your arms come around his neck and before he knows it, he feels your lips against his. It takes a second for his brain to compute, and by the time he realizes that it was a kiss, you had already pulled away. 

“Thank you!” you shout again with glee as he chuckles. 

He tries to move in and capture your lips again, but the moment is ruined when a certain blonde super soldier clears his throat.

You both pull away, faces warm, to see the captain dragging to handcuffed criminals out of the wreckage. 

“Glad to see you’re both alive.” Steve states smugly, shooting Bucky a not so subtle wink.

“It’s all thanks to Bucky and his amazing arm.” you tell him brightly, pressing a kiss to the vibranium bicep before jumping into to help apprehend the rest of the men. 

Steve had never seen Bucky turn that shade of red before, and lets out a laugh as he escorted the men out of the restaurant and into the cars waiting outside. 

~~~

You’re not sure what triggers it.

One moment you're laying on the couch with your head in Bucky’s lap, content and happy while watching a movie. You’re half awake, no idea what’s going on in the movie, instead paying attention to the way Bucky’s fingers glide through your hair.

It happens suddenly, and you jump up. 

You pace for a moment, before breathing is hard, and the world starts to get blurry. A cold sweat breaks out all over your body and you swear you could throw up at any moment.

Lowering yourself onto the floor, you put your head between your legs and slowly start to rock. Blood rushes to your head, and all you can hear is the loud thumping of your erratic heart. 

Everything is reduced to the few inches in front of your face, you almost don’t notice the cool hand on your forehead, pushing away hairs and trying to soothe you.

You focus on the cold hand moving from your head to the back of your neck, and then going down to stroke and pat your back, before starting the cycle all over again. 

Bucky.

Slowly, you start to break through the surface. 

It takes a few moments, but you start to hear his voice calling to you, and you want to follow the warm sound. 

He moves your hand now to his chest, the gentle up and down continuing to bring you back, and it registers that he wants you to follow his breath pattern.

The first few are too shallow, the next few are too fast, but soon you match his calm in-and-out to a tee. 

Your name, smooth and gentle in his voice, finally reaches your ears. You listen as he tells you how great you are at matching his breathing. He switches between compliments, random, one sided small talk, and humming. 

The heat from his embrace and the coolness from his left arm creates a cocoon of warmth and safety, making you lose sense of time. The cramping from your legs is the only indicator that a significant amount of time has passed.

Sluggishly, you lift your head from Bucky’s chest and look up at his face. Intense blue eyes stare back at you, it’s not hard to tell that he’s trying to stay calm, but the slight worry in his eyes wasn’t hard to pick up on. 

Laying your head back on his chest, you feel his arms start to slide under you. Soon enough, you’re lifted up and he’s walking to what you assume would be your room. 

You close your eyes, when he doesn’t take the right to go down to your room, but continues straight into his wing. 

“Thanks Bucky” you mumble as he sets you on his bed and gets in himself.

Face to face, you use your finger to trace the slope of his nose and the edge of his jaw before bringing your finger to outline his lips.

Pressing a small kiss to the tip of your finger, he smiles before leaning in kissing your forehead. 

“I love you, doll.”

“Love you too.”

~~~

He can feel the drool on his face as he comes too. His face squished into the pillow underneath him, so hard, he’s sure he’ll have indents in his face.

One arm slung around a sleeping you, he breathes in, slowly waking up. Moving his arms, he can feel the soreness that settles in after a good night's sleep. 

A small sniffle from the nightstand catches his attention, and he realizes why he woke up. 

Gently, he crawls out of bed, and tucks in the remaining comforter around you, and grabs the device from the nightstand. He hopes you can get a little extra sleep, he’s pretty sure he fell asleep long before you got into bed. 

Bare feet meet carpet as he paddles down the hallway, a short walk to his destination. He waits outside of the door for a moment, listening for movement in the room. When he hears shuffling, and another small screech, he opens the door.

Against the adjacent lilac wall, a white crib is placed. A sleep dischevaled baby stands, clinging to the bars, blowing spit bubbles and babbling to herself.

As soon as she sees Bucky, her arms extend towards him and makes whining noises.

“Hey baby” he chuckles as he steps fully into the room, and picks her up, nervous that she’ll start screaming if he doesn’t.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, patting her back, and checking to see if she needed a diaper change.

The raspberry she blows answers the question.

Gently and efficiently, he sets about changing her diaper, talking to her all the while.

When he sets her upright to try and find a new outfit, preferably one that doesn’t have stains but the options are slim, she squeals again.

Quickly, he picks her up and sways her against his chest.

“Shh shhh shhh, don’t wake up mommy, you kept her up half the night.” Bucky implores. She tilts her head up at the sound of his voice, her eyes slightly wet and he knows she can’t help it. 

Rebecca was a good baby, usually did not fuss, ate like a champ, and slept well. But lately, she had been colickly. 

It had panicked Bucky at first, thinking she was sick or he was doing something wrong. You had quelled his fears by showing him the small bump on her gums, signalling that she was teething. 

Switching his right arm for her support, he brings a vibranium finger up to her mouth. Immediately, she latches on to the finger. 

He can feel the nubs of teeth about to break through the surface, and lets her chew on his cool finger for relief. 

It had started as a joke one day when the teething ring had melted and Becca still wouldn’t stop crying. In your half groggy state, you had stuck one of Bucky’s vibranium fingers in her mouth to let her chew on while you grabbed something else, he couldn’t quite feel the pain the same way his flesh fingers could. But, once Bucky’s finger was in her mouth, Becca happily chewed on it until she fell asleep. 

It was well known now that wherever Bucky was, Becca followed, gnawing on his fingers. 

“Does that feel better Becca?” she couldn’t even spare a second to look at her father, too busy drooling all over his hand.

With Becca in tow, he sits down in the rocking chair, hoping that he could get her to fall back asleep.

Holding her close, he hums some forget tune and rubs her back, moving them back and forth slightly.

The rigid dark grey was such a contrast to the soft baby skin around it, it startles Bucky sometimes.

The same arm that killed people and caused so much destruction was the same arm that his baby daughter used as a teething toy. She would never fear it, or see it as anything other than a part of him. 

He’s unfamiliar with the emotion that bubbles up in his chest and the tears that build up. Sniffling himself, he presses a kiss to her downy soft head, and cradles her underneath his chin.  

“You know, if it hurts that much, you can take it out of her mouth.” you say, startling him slightly. 

Padding into the room, you perch yourself on the armrest of the rocking chair and tuck your feet under his legs. You reach a head out to caress Becca’s perfect cheek, brushing away a few tears with your thumb, as her eyelids start to droop. 

“What are you doing up?” Bucky’s gravely voice cuts through the silence a few moments later. 

“I had a feeling you were getting sappy with her again” you tease. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by without Bucky marveling or crying about Becky in the short 7 months of her life. 

“I can’t help it, she’s perfect.” he whispers back, getting choked up again. 

“Oh babe” you coo at him. Dropping to sit in his lap, you place your head on his chest, just above Becca, and wrap your arms around him. 

He sits there for a while longer, slowly rocking back and forth. Every once in a while, Becca will snuffle and snore in her sleep and you both chuckle at the cute noises. 

Sitting there, arms wrapped around the loves of his life, he feels calm. 

He can feel your breathing start to even out as you follow Becca’s lead to slumber. 

It still amazes him how much you both trust him. Never looked at the thing that made him a killer with anything but love, and never treated him with any differently. 

There will always be scars, physical and emotional, but slowly falling asleep in his baby daughter's room, he knows everything will be ok. He’s not afraid anymore.

~~~

Thank you for reading! Feedback is always welcome!

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Painted Souls 10

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Klaus Mikaelson x Caroline Forbes, Elena Gilbert x Damon Salvatore. 

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: Very small moments of stalking and threats (Better safe than sorry on this one!), fluff, a very cheesy ending. 

Author’s Note: IM NOT CRYING....okay maybe I am. Welcome to the end of this series lovelies. I want to thank everyone who stayed with me on this one even though it took me sooo long to get this out to you guys. Some day in the future, I’d like to come back to this one. I hope you guys enjoy! There is another Note at the bottom of this for you guys.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N stood in the showroom of the gallery. A grin had been plastered on her face as she took in the final touches for tonight. Every detail of it had her in awe, especially when she reached the last section of it. Her eyes danced over the canvas as she took in the details of it up on the wall.

She couldn’t wait for Elijah to see the very piece she was looking at. For as many times as she continued to work on it at the cabin, she never once let Elijah see what was hidden under the sheet. And whenever she worked on it, she made sure the door to the room was locked behind her to ensure he couldn’t sneak in.

This was the first painting that ever included him. She wanted it to be perfect in her eyes. Especially with how new their relationship was. While she would never regret the decision to paint it, it was the rawest thing she had ever painted.  And now as it sat under the lights in the gallery, it was perfect.

“We should get going now.” Elena said as she walked over to Y/N. “We’ve got a long list of things to do before we start getting ready.”

Y/N took her eyes off the painting and looked over at Elena. “Might have to drag me out of here.” She joked.

“I could always have Elijah come in.” Elena said with a shrug.

Y/N shook her head quickly. “Not until tonight.”

“Stop threatening the poor girl.” Damon said as he found the two of them.

“If she doesn’t get out of here soon, she’s going to be late to her own opening.” Elena said as she wrapped her arm around Damon as he came to stand beside her.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine lets leave. Plus, Elijah’s probably done picking up our orders.”

“Cruel of you, by the way.” Damon said with nod of his head. “Have your soulmate run errands while you have us getting things done in here.”

“Some things are meant to be a surprise, Damon.” Y/N said as she began walking towards the exit.

Just outside the door, Elijah had been waiting for them. While he understood some things needed to be done inside, he was still curious about the painting Y/N was keeping from him. He barely caught glances of it from time to time. But he never saw the whole piece before Y/N covered it up or sent him out of the room.

He was looking forward to tonight. Not just because he’d finally get to see the piece she was hiding, but because he’d never seen Y/N so excited. After the week she had, Y/N was on edge quite a bit. To see her relax and focus on the showing had eased his worry.

Their time at the cabin away from the world had been everything they both needed. While Elijah may have wanted this as a means to keep Y/N safe and protected, it turned into several days of them really getting to know each other. They began uncovering the details of their lives that made their feelings for each other grow stronger.

While Elijah wasn’t ready to admit it, he wasn’t looking forward to Y/N returning to her dorm room. He had grown used to them being in the same house, to him waking up to her while she still slept peacefully beside him.

The first few nights hadn’t been that way. He offered Y/N one of the other rooms in the Cabin for her to take. But a few nights in, after a date night that Elijah planned, they found themselves tangled up in each other in Elijah’s bed.

As the door to the Gallery opened, his attention turned to it. He watched as Y/N walked out of there with a shake of her head, causing Elijah to chuckle. “I was beginning to wonder if you three got lost in there.”

Elena scoffed. “More like she didn’t want to leave after we got things done. I had threatened letting you inside in order to get her to start leaving.”

“Can you blame me though?” Y/N said with a slight pout on her face. “I love this place.” The others chuckled at her statement.

“Save the puppy eyes for Blondie.” Damon said as he tilted his head in the direction of the restaurant down the street. “We’re running late on meeting her for lunch.”

“Oh please,” Elena began. “She’s got Klaus there, it’s not like she’s sitting there like a loner.”

With that, they began making their way down the street. As they did, a gut feeling formed in Y/N. She quickly looked back towards the way they had come from, but aside from the crowd of people walking by there was nothing there that caused her to worry. Suppressing the feeling, Y/N turned her attention back to the others pulling herself into the conversation as they walked.

“Just hear me out,” Caroline said as they sat at their table out on the patio. “Spa day for all of us.”

“We don’t have time for that.” Y/N said with a shake of her head.

They all had just finished eating and were just talking with each other. This was the first time all six of them had been out together since Damon came into town. It was nice for them all to enjoy the day together before getting ready for Y/N’s showing.

“It doesn’t have to be today.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying that we all need one. We can make it a couple’s retreat.”

“How about after graduation?” Y/N suggested.

“Not all of us graduating.” Klaus reminded her.

“No, but the girls of this group are.” Elena said with a smile as she looked at her friends. “A vacation right after stressing about finals, sounds like heaven to me.”

“We could make it a weekend getaway.” Damon suggested.

“Why not a week?” Klaus added in. “If they are graduating from college, this would be the perfect excuse to leave the state.”

“And go where?” Y/N asked with a raised brow.

There was a knowing look shared between Klaus and Elijah. Klaus smirked as he looked at the others. “Why not a week in New Orleans?”

“Booze, Music and Art,” Y/N said as she looked at Elijah before looking at the others, that’s one hell of week.

The others chuckled as Klaus and Elijah began explaining details on what they could do. Since they had a family home in New Orleans, there wouldn’t be a need for a hotel. The conversation continued in a way that had eveyone involved, except for Y/N.

Y/N had stopped engaging when that gut feeling came back. Her eyes wandered around looking for the cause of it. But no matter which way she looked, she could find the cause. At least that was until her eyes landed across the street.

A person stood underneath the awning of a shop. While normally that wouldn’t have bothered her, it was how this person wore a hood during a hot day out. The shadow of the hood had been enough to cover their eyes. The hair on  the back of Y/N’s neck stood up the moment she watched a smirk grow on the person’s face. The last straw had been how the person raised a finger up to their lips, as if telling her to stay quiet.

Y/N’s hand automatically reached for Elijah’s arm as she kept her eyes on the woman. Her heart had been beating quickly as she did. Elijah looked over at her and noticed that Y/N looked scared.

“What is it?” He asked as he looked in the direction Y/N had been looking at. The whole time Y/N watched as this person waved to her before walking away. Elijah hadn’t missed it either. “Do you know them?”

Y/N shook her head, unable to get any words out. Noticing how scared Y/N was, Elijah took that as a sign it was time to leave. He looked over to the others speaking to them. But none of the words registered in Y/N’s mind.

The others around her spoke of heading to the cabin, at least until they needed to come back into town for Y/N’s showing a few hours from now. Klaus already had his phone out calling his oldest brother and informing him of the events that just happened. The whole time, Elijah crouched in front of Y/N trying to calm her down.

“Hey,” He said softly as he ran his fingers along her arm. “We’re going to get you somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” Y/N said as with a nod of her head, trying to get her racing heart to calm.

“We’ll make sure there is added security tonight.” Elijah said hoping to keep her attention him. “You’ll be safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” It was his words that calmed her. His touch that grounded her and kept her from losing herself in a panic attack. She was sure without Elijah there by her side, this would have ended differently than it was going.

_____

“Are you sure you still want to go?” Elijah asked as he leaned against the door frame of the bathroom. He was watching as Y/N applied her make up lightly.

After the group got back to the cabin, it took some time for Y/N to really feel safe. But once she had, she was back to her normal self. The fear had subsided and excitement grew in her as it was time to get ready. She tried to keep the thoughts at bay for now.

Through the Mirror, Y/N looked at Elijah. She nodded her head before moving to add eye shadow to her lids. “We are taking precautions to ensure it is safe. Plus, I’d hate to miss my own opening.”

Elijah nodded his head as he continued to watch her. Even as she put on her make up, he could see the artist in her. Each movement had been planned and while Elijah knew nothing of makeup, watching her apply it had been an art itself.

“It’s strange that our skin doesn’t share this.” He noted as he continued to watch her.

A smile pulled at her lips before she stopped and picked up a bottle. Turning to him she tossed it to him before going back to working on her eyes. “It’s a cream that’s supposed to help prevent it from doing so. Otherwise, you’d have almost a full face of make up.”

He chuckled as he placed the bottle down on the counter top. “While it looks good on you, I’m not sure how that would look on me.”

A grin pulled at her lips as she laughed. Turning to him she held the brush up. “You never know until you try.”

“Absolutely not.” He said shaking his head with a grin on his face as well.

“You two sound like you guys are having too much fun in here.” Caroline’s voice carried into the room. “It’s almost time to go. I just wanted to check in.”

“Almost done.” Y/N said as she grabbed a hold of a lips gloss and began applying it.

“We’ll be down in a minute.” Elijah told Caroline as he looked over his shoulder at her. There was a silent question being asked that Elijah hadn’t missed from Caroline. He nodded his head and Caroline gave a small smile in return. Y/N was going better than she had earlier. They all wanted to keep it that way.

_____

Y/N stood in front of the covered painting and a grin pulled at her lips. There was a crowed forming in front of the covered painting. The announcement of the reveal had been moments ago. While there were several other paintings on display for others to enjoy, this had been the one Joyce wanted to be revealed at the showing.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Joyce said as she stepped in front of the painting. “On behalf of Y/N, I’d like to say welcome and thank you for coming tonight. Y/N is a very talented artist, as you can tell, that came to us when she was younger with dreams of having her work hanging on the walls as they are now. This one however,” Joyce motioned to the one behind her. “Is by far my favorite. Y/N only completed it a few days go and it has left a long lasting impression on myself. And as the caretaker of this lovely gallery, I hope it leaves an impression on you just as well.” Joyce looked over to Y/N and nodded.

Coming up to stand by Joyce, Y/N smiled. “As Joyce said, thank you for being here.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m a bit nervous because most of my work has been landscapes, beautiful moments in time captured by paint. But this one came without a model sitting in front of me. Most came from memory and it has given me the most incredible feeling while painting it. I give you Painted Souls.” As her words left her lips, they removed the covering from the canvas.

There were gasps of awe and murmurs of admiration as it had been revealed. As it had been, Y/N kept her eyes on Elijah the whole time. His eyes widened as he took in every detail on the canvas before him. She wanted to know his reaction as he took it in.

It had been like looking in a mirror image of himself. The details of his face done in a profile view had been displayed on the canvas. His painted self had been done in black in white. The same as Y/N had done with herself on the canvas. While they had been in black and white, it was the details of colorful paint that had painted in places.

A yellow stripe of paint smeared on their foreheads. Splatters of paint covered their necks and faces. Everything mirrored on each other just as it would have been if Y/N had painted on herself. Y/N had even captured the growing love they had for each other in their eyes, which was the only other thing that had been painted in color.

Elijah finally took his eyes off of the painting and bringing his attention to Y/N. A look of awe on his face as he walked over to her. A smile pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him make his way over to her.

Once he had, his eyes shifted to the painting behind her before looking back at her. He opened his mouth but closed it shortly after, unsure of how to express what he was feeling in that moment. Y/N chuckled at the reaction.

“Speechless?” She asked and Elijah quickly nodded.

Instead of trying to find the right words to say to her, he pulled her close to him and brought his lips down to hers. While he normally wasn’t one for public displays of affection, his soulmate deserved it. Y/N smiled against his lips before kissing him back. The surprise of it had definitely been well worth it.

_____

Y/N had been off to the side speaking with a few other visitors of the Gallery. Elijah could see the smile on her face from across the room as she spoke about one of her pieces. Half of the time they had talked to her about the unveiling causing her to instinctively look for Elijah in the process while she spoke about it.

Elijah never left her line of sight. While Finn had been able to pull extra security, he was still on high alert after what happened this afternoon. So far nothing out of the ordinary happened, he hoped it would stay that way.

“I say tonight was a success.” Klaus said as he came to stand beside him.

Elijah nodded his head. “Indeed it was. She’s going to be talking about this for weeks.”

A smile pulled at Klaus’ lips. “She’s one hell of an artist, I’ll give her that. I’ve been very tempted to buy a few pieces.”

Elijah’s eyebrow rose. “What is stopping you?”

Klaus shrugged. “Someone has beat me to it.”

That had Elijah’s attention as he turned to his brother. “How many of them have been bought?”

“From what Joyce has said, a majority of her showroom has been purchased. Of course, they won’t leave the gallery until her showing is over.” Klaus explained as his wandered over to Caroline as she began making a b-line for Elena and Damon.

“Does Y/N know?” Elijah asked as his eyes landed back on her.

“She won’t know until tonight.” Klaus nodded. “Joyce wants to give her an exact amount before we leave.”

“That will come as a shock to her.” A smile pulled at Elijah’s lips as he brought the drink he had up to his lips.

“All the more reason for her to celebrate.” He said with a nod. “And more reason for her to talk about this for weeks.”

“That is one emotion filled painting.” A stranger’s voice carried over to Y/N, causing her to turn around to see a man looking up at the painting. “You can see the way you both care for each other.” He said as he began pointing to it. “It’s like you took a moment and replicated it in paint.”

“That was the goal.” Y/N said with a smile as she took a step closer to him and to the painting. “My soulmate and I have just connected recently. It’s been one hell of a journey already, and we’re just getting to know each other.”

“How much would you be selling this piece for?” He asked as he looked over at her.

“It’s not for sale.” Y/N said with a nod. “I’d feel weird if this was hung up in someone’s house but mine.”

“That’s a shame.” He said as he shook his head. “It would have been nice to have up in my studio. It would complete my aesthetic.”

“A soulmate aesthetic?” She asked. But there was something that made her take a step back. That gut feeling was returning the longer she spoke with him. From Elijah’s spot he could see how Y/N had tensed up. Without a second thought, he began making his way over there.

The man nodded. “I was attempting to acquire a piece similar. Unfortunately it slipped through my hands a few nights ago, when a friend of hers stepped in.”

Panic filled Y/N, and she tried her best to stay as calm as she could. But her lips trembled slightly as she took another step back. Her first instinct was to run, but if she ran, he could come after her or even make a run for it. She needed to know that he would be caught if she walked away.

That was when Elijah and officer came up behind him. Before Elijah could begin walking over to her, he had gotten confirmation on the person from earlier being in the building. Without hesitating anymore, they made their way over.

“Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to make that a reality.” Elijah said causing the man to look over at him as the officer and a nearby security guard moved to arrest him.

As crazy as it looked to Y/N, the man never took his eyes off Y/N as he was escorted out. Y/N couldn’t get herself to move once more as she watched him leave. It wasn’t until Elijah was directly in front of her, pulling her attention to him, that she relaxed by throwing her arms around him.

He was safe. He was comfort. Something that Y/N needed more than anything in that moment. Elijah held onto her until she needed him to let go. His only thoughts were that she would continuously be safe and the threat she faced earlier was taken care of.

_____

In the middle of the night, Y/N woke up and wasn’t able to go back to sleep. Quietly pulling herself out of Elijah’s bed, and made her way out of the room and down the hall. Much like she had while she was in the dorm and couldn’t sleep, she’d make her way to her painting area. In this case, she headed toward the painting room.

Switching on the light, a long comforting sigh passed her lips as she entered the room. Walking over to the canvas, she plopped herself on the stool and stared at the empty space in front of her. While her mind was restless and couldn’t sleep, it seemed that she didn’t have an actual idea as to what she’d like to paint.

Picking up a brush and the grey paint container, she poured some paint onto her pallet before dipping the brush into it. Lifting the brush up to the canvas, she began letting the brush flow against it. While there was no rhyme or reason to it, she hoped that by the end, she’d have something to work with.

An hour later, her fingers had been covered in paint. The brush never satisfying the way she needed the colors to blend. Paint splatters covered her face and the apron she put on. a frustrated sigh passed her lips as she placed her chin in the palm of her hand, causing her fingers to leave prints of paint on her cheek as she tried to decided what to do with the mess in front of her.

“Can’t sleep?” Elijah asked, causing her to turn in her seat.

A small chuckle passed her lips as she took in his appearance. “I am so sorry for the paint.” She said as she shook her head.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen splatters here and there on him. But the way she was working tonight, it was a mess in comparison. It was everywhere on him. The grey, the shades of blue she used moments ago that made up the finger prints on his cheek. It made a grin pull at her lips.

“It’s no harm to me.” He said as he walked over to her. “Though it seems your mind is restless. Anything I can do to help?”

“Well my muse happened to be asleep when I woke. Was kind of hard to come up with anything else.” She noted as she looked back at the canvas. “Any ideas?”

A hint of smirk pulled at his lips. “I have one, but it doesn’t require any paint. It does however require you to come back to bed.”

“But I have a mess here that needs to be cleaned up.” She complained as she watched him stand in front of her.

“We’ll deal with it in the morning.” He said with a shrug as he lifted her up onto his shoulder as shriek passed her lips as he walked out of the room.

While the world had it’s moments that left both of them on edge throughout the years, there was one thing that was proven between them. It doesn’t matter how often you may come across your soulmate throughout your life. You’ll only let them in when you need them the most.

If it hadn’t been for Marcel introducing Y/N to Klaus, or even Freya pushing Elijah to send Y/n a message, there would have been another time or another place. But it was at the current timeline that the universe knew they needed each other. Because without one, the other would have been lost.

Author’s Note: I had the hardest time coming up with the painting. Creating an image from nothing is just as hard as creating a picture in your mind with words. But I did the best I could. However if you would like something visual to look at as a base to my detailed thoughts, her is an image that I found after the fact. 

Always & Forever Tag: @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555 @hellotvshowtrash

Painted Souls Tag: @inmylifeilovedthemall​ @graciejunie​  @this-is-mycrisis​ @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit​ @violentmommabear42 @ignorantly-apathatic​  @carostar2020​ @shanty-lol​ @generallyclumsy​ @gwenawesomeness @x-memi12 @misunderstood-shadows​ @krazykatkay456​ @emilymarie105​ @insertcooluser55​ @firedancernix​ @tuliptx​ @kpoplover1306-depressedgirl315​ @giraffelover2309 @fading-mentality-boquet  @sincerelykay12​ @dpaccione​ @castofstrangerthings​ @twigstar18​ @colors-for-theworld-please @foreverlostindreams​ @petraballins​ @sorrowfulfragmentation​ @tattoedraven1022 @heartjoohoney​ @bitchingkeres​ @jemimah-b99​ @athenamikaelson​ @high-on-shai @we-dance-through-an-avalanche @lilipads @sagittarianwolf

Stag Tag:   @elejah-wonderland @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @marvel-at-stucky

The Originals Tag: @zillahvathek @obsessedwithvampires @alien-sida

Bold Tags mean for some reason or another I couldn’t tag you in this. If you are on the Painted Souls Tag and would like to be added to another tag, please let me know!

[blastyboisbitch]

Thinking Out Loud || Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

It’s been a while since I’ve written any one shots...be gentle with me ; ^ ; Edit: updated 10/5 after a beta read ~

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ouch - !”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N!”

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Izuku apologized, bowing his head low as you sat down on a nearby couch with a sigh to nurse bruised toes hidden beneath your school slippers. “It’s alright. Can we take a break?”

“Yeah, alright…I should watch that video again…” Embarrassed, the verdant haired student mumbled as he drew away to grab a water bottle from the table nearby, his phone already in hand. 

You two had been at it for a couple of hours now with no improvement – on either end. Izuku had clearly stated, even while offering to help you, that he didn’t have any experience. With no other offers at the time (besides Mineta, who was quickly silenced by Sero and Denki), the two of you had hoped that his enthusiasm would make up for the lack of experience. 

Hope seemed futile, however. At least according to your aching feet.

You sat back, stretching your legs out in front of you as you took a long drink from the water you had procured. It was late in the evening and the dorms were quiet as you two sat in the silence, green curtains drawn over the arched picture windows to the darkness of the outdoors. 

“It’s getting late and I know we’ve got class early...but can we give it one more shot?” Izuku might have been even more determined than you were, or maybe at this point it was just that he was just stubborn. “I think I’ve got it now.” Your classmate held up his phone as a ‘waltzing for idiots’ video flashed on the screen, and you nearly choked on your water.

“Alright. Once more and then we’ll call it a night.” Trying to act appreciative, you just barely stifled a wince when you stood to join him.

Hesitantly, Izuku’s scarred right hand gently tucked itself just below your left shoulder blade, and the left found its place cupping your right hand while partially extended from your bodies. His palms weren’t sweaty, thankfully, but their clamminess was not exactly the most pleasant.

“At least it wasn’t Mineta.”

Even stranger was the fact that not once while he was holding you had he made eye contact through the entire ordeal. Every time you looked to try and catch his gaze, his wide green eyes were consistently focusing on where his feet were. Izuku was determined to do things exactly as it was shown in his video – and it was killing your feet.

Everything seemed to line up perfectly while the two of you were still, and even into his first step forward with his left foot and your first step back with your right this time. But after that, everything fell apart. Into the second step and partial turn, Izuku’s right heel caught your ankle and effectively stopped his rotation, causing the both of you to trip as you moved to swing toward him.

For all the times you didn’t end up sitting on the floor, it was the last one that did you both in. Izuku released his hold on your torso and hand on the way down in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent you from falling with him. You couldn’t help the exhausted groan that slid past your lips, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. Your classmate was quick to untangle his legs once he realized what happened – again – and once more he apologized profusely, obviously upset over the blunder.

“Maybe Mineta wouldn’t have two left feet…”

“What the hell are you extras doing?” 

You shook yourself of the idea of even allowing the other student near you, just in time for your attention to be drawn to the doorway. Fresh from pro-hero training it appeared, Katsuki casually leaned against the door frame with his bag draped over his shoulder. How long had he been there?

“K-Kaachan!” Izuku stuttered, shocked by the sudden appearance of his ‘friend’. On a typical day, it wasn’t uncommon for the blonde to already be sleeping within the confines of his dorm room. “W-we were just…Y/N asked for help -”

“Dancing. Ballroom waltz, to be specific.” You finished the sentence that Izuku was caught up in, brushing a hand through your hair as you watched him carefully.

Carmine colored eyes darted from Izuku – who’s hand was at the back of his neck as he stood, mumbling to himself - to you. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks when his gaze refused to falter, and you looked away first, closing your eyes and leaning forward onto one knee. You knew it was bad, but bad enough for Katsuki to call it out? 

“Tch. You call that a waltz?” You looked back once more to him at the call out, preparing for what would probably become an argument. But as you did, you could have sworn a shadow of curiosity and questioning graced sharp features, before being masked once more with nonchalance and indifference.

“My oldest brother is marrying his partner in a few weeks…” You didn’t owe Katsuki an explanation. Yes, he was your classmate. But in your mutual - and final - year at UA after you transferred into the hero course, you’d had very few actual interactions with the explosive man. He was always too busy, for everything and everyone except himself, it seemed. At least you might look like less of an idiot if you tried.

“Our mom died a few years back. She can’t be there, but I can, and I wanted to make sure he could still have his “mother”-son dance…” You’d planned the surprise with the help of your soon to be brother-in-law, right down to the last detail - the slideshow of old videos playing in the background, the song, everything - except for how you were going to learn how to do a simple waltz in a matter of weeks.

Your line of sight dropped back down to your slippers, and you smiled. One way or another, you’d figure it out. Right? And worst case scenario, you’d make a fool of yourself in front of your family who already knew you well enough that it didn’t matter. It looked like that was going to be the case.

Nearby, Izuku fisted his phone in one hand, stepping forward to attempt to apologize – but the sound of a school bag, heavy with god-only-knew-what, hitting the hardwood floor caught you both off-guard.

You looked back up to find Katsuki rolling up his long sleeves even as he glared your direction. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow and stared incredulously as he stepped up to you, extending a hand to help you up from the floor. 

“Tch…dumbass, do you want to learn, or not?!” Your feet were sore. You were exhausted, not just with the failure, but just with life in general. And here was Katsuki-fucking-Bakugou – one of the big three of UA - offering to teach you how to waltz.

You took his hand willingly, a heady combination of burnt sugar and spice filling your senses as he pulled you up in one swift movement. His touch was firmer than Izuku’s, an absolute confidence that the other didn’t have. You had little time to protest as your face was suddenly only inches away from his broad chest, warm hands taking the same positions that his classmate’s had been before - beneath your left shoulder blade and cupping your right hand extended from your bodies. Involuntarily, your free hand caught his shoulder, and the muscle beneath his shirt tensed with the sudden contact.

“That shitty nerd wouldn’t know the first thing about how to dance if his life depended on it,” Katsuki remarked, flashing an annoyed glance over to Izuku standing nearby and fumbling with his phone at his friend’s remarks. He didn’t contest what they all knew, an embarrassed smile crossing his face. But at least he’d tried, right?

“It’s ok Izuku. Thank you for trying to help!” At the very least, you were appreciative that he had tried. That was what mattered in the long run, right? Taking it as his cue to leave, the green-haired male removed himself from the room, and left the two of you to your devices.

For all of the piss and vinegar that seemed to be the outer layer that was Katsuki Bakugou, the coming weeks proved that there was more to him than met the eye. Harsh words and sweaty, long practice sessions into the dead of the night - some even outside in the cool, damp grass when the dorm was occupied - gave way to unexpectedly gentle touches as he first taught you how to follow, and then to lead – a secret kept between the two of you, because what man in their right mind would allow a woman to lead.

It’d come out fairly early into your sessions that not only had his mother had him take music lessons as a child, but also dance lessons. And if there was one thing Katsuki was good at, it was excelling at everything he did. He would be the best, regardless of the task, because that was who he was. Ballroom waltz? It was the easiest thing in the book, as he berated you for not knowing even the basic steps. With a partner who knew what they were doing however, it was much easier for you to get past those first two steps and move on to the more complicated ones.

At first, you thought you felt nervous around him. Your hands shook with every touch; your voice, trembling against every order you mentally gave yourself not to. And to say your stomach was in knots wasn’t even close to describing how excessively anxious you were. But it swiftly morphed into something more behind your back - stolen smiles behind closed doors, laughing together in private over the stupidest things that didn’t involve dancing, and praise just when you needed it most. You soon found that you couldn’t help that every heartbeat felt like an explosion when you were with him. An unkind metaphor, you found yourself thinking.

The day of your brother’s wedding came quicker than anticipated. You were a bundle of nerves once more, dolled up for the occasion - but despite that, you were more than confident when you finally walked out onto that ballroom floor. You’d only had a few chances to dance with your brother in the few days leading up, passing it off as just wanting to practice for his first dance with his partner. Every lie told was worth it in the end when the videos that came on in the background left the poor groom a sobbing mess. ‘Awe’s’ and applause filled the room as you led your brother a bit slower than your normal pace with Katsuki, unable to hide the smile that graced your face as you caught sight of your plus-one for the evening with the biggest shit-eating-grin, right up in front of the crowd – observing his hard work paying off.

By the time it was said and done, you and your sibling were both a sobbing mess, the woman smiling down from the enlarged video on the white screen nearly your spitting image. It was all surreal, in a sense. After receiving long hugs from both your sibling and his partner, you left them to do their thing, joining your own ‘partner’ off to the side. You couldn’t stop smiling. And it was contagious.

“See. You did fine, idiot.” Katsuki didn’t often smile in public, but with his hands in his pockets, he praised you in his own way, glancing back out to your family and then bringing his attention back to you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, ‘Tsukii.” Using a napkin, you carefully dabbed at your under eyes, hoping to remove the last traces of any smudged makeup. “You know, you’d make a good teacher for UA, someday.”

In the dim lighting it was hard to tell, but you swore that there was a pink-tinge to his cheeks as he brushed your compliment aside.

“Tch...stop talking nonsense, dumbass.” You couldn’t help but grin at him while tucking the napkin in your hand into a pocket to dispose of later, before boldly slipping a hand into his pocket to lace your fingers through his. He flinched but didn’t push you away – instead, holding the hand you’d given him a bit tighter as his gaze focused away from the situation at hand.

After a moment of standing there together, watching as others began celebrating the new union, you squeezed Katsuki’s hand gently. “We should show them how it’s done.” It wasn’t a question, or a request. It was a statement.

One that he eagerly took you up on as you pulled him out onto the dance floor.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @bnhamoonsunzine! I wanted to do something soft after the festival arc.

…

…

…

…

Sprawled on the ground, Kaminari woke up to a pounding in his head and a stiff back. He lay still, staring at the cloudy night sky, feeling an unfamiliar weight across his waist. His sides were warm. This was not his bed. Actually, this was not a bed at all, this was the sandy beach and it was a big mistake to sleep like this. Looking to his left, he groaned as he saw Izuku’s feet next to him. That would mean…Kaminari looked down and groaned again. Kirishima’s arm was hanging limply over his waist, his friend lying spread out as though to cover the most space. Maybe it was a manly thing in his eyes but it was a disappointment in Kaminari’s.

Slowly, he slowly examined his surroundings. Lying prone around him were the rest of his classmates: some on the chairs, some on the ground like him. A handful had managed to make it back to tents the teachers had set up. Around them were streamers, plastic cups, and cake crumbs, the remnants of their afterparty. After having the world’s best culture fair, with the most rocking band, they’d all celebrated. And maybe over-celebrated—Kaminari had never seen Iida loosen up and dance like he had and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to see it again.

He wasn’t sure how they managed to convince the teachers to let them have a beach party. Maybe it was because it was November and no one was there anyways. Or maybe they needed a break too; they’d been cooped up inside of their school for so long. Either way, he was glad to finally take a break from it all: the villains, the fights, the homework. Kaminari closed his eyes, listening to the waves as they gently lapped the shore.

Now that he was thinking about it, he was thirsty. And hot. Definitely hot, his friends were like heaters next to him. Carefully, he picked up Kirishima’s hand and tossed it off. Fortunately, the big lug was as dense in his sleep as he was awake and just mumbled something unintelligible as he rolled over. Kaminari sighed with relief. So far so good. Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet. Now he just had to make it through the obstacle course of his friends and he could find something in the cooler. Hell, he could even sleep in his sleeping bag after this; the sky above didn’t look like it was going to be day anytime soon.

As he lowered his eyes, he noticed a figure further down the beach, by the pier: Jirou’s. Forgetting all about his thirst, he quietly wandered toward her, carefully dodging his classmates and the trash they’d left behind. Despite it being November, the air was still warm. A breeze ruffled through his hair, carrying with it the quiet notes of Jirou’s guitar. Now that he was closer, he could see her holding her instrument, strumming it every now and then as she cleaned it and tightened the strings. Padding over, he asked, “You really love that, huh?”

“Wha—?” Immediately, Jirou’s earjacks tangled around his feet and he tripped. He cried as he hit the wooden pier and she looked at him in surprise. “Oh, it’s you—don’t surprise me like that!”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he groaned, rubbing his chin as he sat up. Hopefully, nothing was bleeding. “You should have been paying more attention.”

“And you should have reacted quicker,” Jirou snapped back, her ears red. No doubt it was embarrassment for what had just happened. She’d never been one for apologizing, a trait she shared with Bakugou. “What’re you doing here?”

“I saw you.” Kaminari sat down near her, looking curiously at her guitar. It was a different one than the one they’d used for the band, a big wooden one that didn’t look anything at all like that electric monster. Faintly, he remembered her bringing it down for the party. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I dunno, just felt like playing something. And I wanted to clean it up from all the soda you kept splashing on it.” Jirou patted the guitar, smiling.

“You had to do that all the way here?” he asked, raising a brow. The only thing the pier had going for it was the lamp posts behind him, bathing them both in a pool of light. While there wasn’t much sand here, there was a little. If there was one guarantee about sand, it was this: it got everywhere. “What about your tent?”

“…right. I could have done it there.” Jirou slapped her forehead. She started to stand up. “I’ll go, don’t want to wake anyone else up.”

Immediately, he latched onto her wrist, preventing her from getting up. When she looked at him, perplexed, he shook his head, letting go of her arm. “You didn’t wake me. And it’s nice here. So, stay?”

It was the least eloquent he’d felt his whole life but she stayed put anyways. “It is nice out,” she agreed. That was Jirou-nese for ‘I want to stay’. He was starting to get a read on her, get a hang of the strange ways she acted.

“You were great today.” Crossed his arms behind his head, leaning back into it. “I can’t believe you can play so many instruments and sing—you should be in a band or something.”

“Or something,” she echoed, going back to adjusting her guitar. Her eyes remained strained on the knobs even as she answered. “My parents are musicians, actually.”

“Really?” Then again, considering her bedroom, he could believe it. Either that or she was a music nut. Or both. Definitely both.

“Yeah, but I want to do something more…heroic. Help more people.” Jirou strummed her guitar again, her lithe fingers dancing on the chords. “I can always sing after.”

If he had that much talent and a chance at a cushy life, would he have made the same decision? Probably not. Half of the reason he came here was because he didn’t really have any other plans. “That’s amazing.”

Looking embarrassed, Jirou shook her head. “Not really.”

She always did that. Putting herself down, acting like her talents were nothing—it was one thing to be humble, it was another to pretend she had no skills whatsoever. Kaminari frowned. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” She blinked, staring at him blankly.

“You always make it sound like it’s no big deal, but it is.” He moved, ignoring her surprised intake of air as he sat next to her. Leaning close, he glared. “Take credit for what you do. It’s amazing. You’re amazing. Stop pretending otherwise.”

“I…” She swallowed, scooching back a smidge. “I guess you’re right.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she grinned. “I am good at music.”

“Yeah, you are!” He agreed, smiling broadly back. “You’re amazing, good at music, heroic—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” She laughed, embarrassed.

“And cute,” he added with a wink.

Jirou glared at him, flushing. “Ok, enough with the teasing.”

He wasn’t. The blush on her cheeks only made her cuter, but Kaminari had enough wits about him to know better than to say that. She’d probably punch him and he didn’t want to ruin the mood. Glancing at her guitar, he changed the topic. “So you don’t only play rock?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, she nodded. “Yeah. I like rock the best but my parents taught me different styles and how to mix them.”

“So you’re like a DJ?” he guessed.

Her withering glare told him otherwise. “No, that’s a different skill entirely.” When he fell silent with a sheepish look, she sighed. “It’s more like…uh, how’s this.”

Jirou started strumming her guitar, a familiar sound he recognized as Born to be Wild. Only…only different. Maybe it was the guitar itself, the strings softening the sound. Occasionally the notes didn’t sound quite right, like Jirou had tweaked them, plucking them from the song and rearranging them. It became a song he knew and didn’t know. After playing half the song, she stopped and looked at him, her eyes shining. “See?”

If she had been cute before, she was downright beautiful now. Kaminari swallowed, barely able to nod. His neck felt hot, his palms sweaty, and just like the song, he felt different. Like she’d plucked his emotions and rearranged them. Now he was the one who couldn’t look at her. “Do you know any others?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Her eyes drifted off him and he breathed in relief as she focused on her guitar. Still excited, she jumped from song to song, rearranging melodies as easy as counting to three. “What about this one?”

Kaminari looked up at the stars, listening. His eyes started to slide shut. It was strange, despite them being rock songs, they felt like a lullaby. Head heavy, he started to lean to the side. Falling on Jirou’s shoulder, he felt her stiffen before sighing. Exasperated, he was sure, but hopefully there was some fondness in it too.

Hopefully.

She said something unintelligible and he was asleep before she switched songs.