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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years

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Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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animeyanderelover · 4 years

Note

ok ok so deathnote characters (melli near l and light) with a modern s/o but like the thing is is that they kinda fell through the sky whne l and light were at the park or something so they just look at the s/o like 👁👄👁 while the s/o comes running over explaining how much they love l ( and compleatly ignoring light)

I only did it with L and Light because I don’t seem the dynamic with all four of them working. I can see honestly everything else. Near obsessing over L’s darling or Light’s and the same for Mello and everything else. But I can’t think of this right now. I hope it’s still alright😕. I think I’ll make a separate post for Mello and Near later on.

Modern reader getting transported in Death Note

✍️🍰Light knew already that there were more mysterious things that existed in this universe, the Shinigami following him and the note he had hidden in his room being proof enough of this. He would have lied if he had said he had never asked Ryuk if there were other things as well. But that damn Shinigami just shrugged with his shoulders. L was someone who had always relied more on logical things, but during the Kira case his view on the world changed a bit, accepting the fact that there were things beyond his knowledge.

✍️🍰But no one from the two had expected to witness what had happened on this day. They had just been sitting in the park and doing some small talk, both trying secretly to figure ways out how to win against the other. That was until they had suddenly saw something. For the shortest of seconds...the sky suddenly seemed to split in half, opening a hole before quickly going back to normal. What had that just been? Both of them just stared surprised at the sky. And then they had heard it. Screaming, at first only faint, but it had gotten louder and louder until they had seen a view that nearly caused them to drop their jaws. There you were, falling from who knows which height down. You were yelling something from not wanting to die like this, closing your eyes tightly and praying to whoever you believed in. But shortly before you could end like a pancake you suddenly slowed down, floating softly down and gently landing on the earth.

✍️🍰Both of them just stood there in shock, glancing with blinking eyes back and forth between the sky and you. There was no doubt in their minds that you had been falling through that hole from a few minutes before. But that didn’t help them what that had just been and who you were. You on the other hand had slowly opened your eyes, noticing that you weren’t dead yet and looking like a lost puppy confused around. That was until you were met with the clueless faces from L and Light, your gaze freezing on theirs.

✍️🍰For a few seconds they just looked at you and you just looked at them. That was until a sparkle started appearing and you instantly jumped to your feet and hurried to them, looking amazed at L, circling around him and observing him interested. And that’s when you asked with a hint of excitement if he was L? And that made both men tense up. From where did you know that. You took that as a yes and started instantly explaining that you were a huge fan of his, something from “him being your favorite from the Anime” and excitedly starting to ramble about how much you loved him and that he was incredibly cool. Light just stood there, feeling like he was somewhat in the wrong place. Why were you ignoring him?

✍️🍰L on the other hand was flustered, not only because you knew who he was, but also because of your enthusiasm towards him. By all means, he wasn’t used to suddenly be showered in compliments and praises like this. Not only that, but he was scared that someone would hear you because you had gotten louder and louder during your speech. So he just hushed you and asked you who you were. And you told him proudly your name. Light had gotten a bit awkward, not being okay with the fact of being ignored like this. That’s why he decided to finally step in, asking you what had just happened and why you had fallen from the sky. You turned your head in his direction, the smile you had given L slowly transforming into an frustrated and somewhat angry look, scoffing at him that he should just stay out of it.

✍️🍰L thought it would be the smartest to question you somewhere more private, bringing you into the basement where they were currently working on the Kira case. During the whole ride back there you kept talking to L, even going as far as interrupting Light whenever he tried to join. And Light slowly started to get pissed off by your disrespectful behavior. What was your problem?

✍️🍰The way you were being questioned was much more pleasant than what he had done with Misa and Light, looking more like a friendly chat under old friends. You were served some coffee and cake from Watari, L thinking that you would talk willingly. And you did indeed. By the end of your explanation you looked a bit embarrassed, L staring at you with a neutral expression on his face and Light quirking an eyebrow at you. He really wanted to think that you were nuts, but the fact that you had literally fallen from the sky kept him from labeling you as a lunatic. He did know that supernatural things existed, but this was a bit hard. You noticed that both of them were a bit unsure, offering to give them some proof before pulling your cellphone out and showing them some pictures you had saved about L. A lot of pictures. This seemed to fascinate L, taking your phone and scrolling through the pictures before asking you if you had some more proof. You did, but told him whilst glancing suspiciously at Light that you didn’t want to say this loudly. So you just whispered it in L’s ear, his eyes widening in surprise before giving you a intense look. You just laughed and told him that you wouldn’t tell anyone.

✍️🍰What did you tell him? You told him about the Wammy House and his two successors inside of there. And that managed to convince L, explaining later on that you would live somewhere near here and that this should be kept as a secret between him, Watari, you and Light. Light on the other hand still had his doubts, not fully believing yet that all of this was true. Later on in his room he talked to Ryuk, asking the Shinigami what he was thinking about this. Ryuk just laughed, looking clearly amused by something. When Light asked him annoyed what was so funny Ryuk gave him an answer that made him jump up in surprise. He hadn’t been able to see your name nor your life span above your head, emphasizing that he normally was able to see the name and life span of every human from this world.

✍️🍰That managed to convince Light because even though Ryuk was lazy, he wasn’t a liar. But that meant trouble. You had explained that in your world their world was an Anime, a show which people watched. And that meant that you knew about him. He had of course luck because you had explained that before being thrown into this world you had somewhat heard someone saying that you weren’t allowed to tell them anything too directly. But you were allowed to change the future. That meant if you would somewhat hint L that he was Kira it would be over for him. So what other choice did he have besides killing you. He only hoped that the name you had told him was the right one whilst busily writing down your name in his Death Note. But as soon as he had written it down something strange happened. Your name just disappeared. And no matter how much Light wrote it down, it kept getting erased.

✍️🍰What was that supposed to mean? Did that mean that he couldn’t kill you? Shinigami, tell him what that meant! Ryuk himself seemed surprised by this, chuckling and saying that this was so fun. But then he suggested that this Death Note, and other Death Notes as well, maybe didn’t have the power to kill someone from another universe. And that was just great for Light. The Death Note had always been his best weapon, but now it was useless. It was of course also a choice to kill you with his bare hands. But not only were you already very warily around him, he would also make himself the clear culprit since he was the only one besides Watari and L who knew about your true identity. Not to mention that you had been placed under great security system. What was he supposed to do now?!

✍️🍰You often spent time with the four who knew about your secret, talking with you about the case and L also showing a huge interest in your world and the Anime about his world. He was almost a bit disappointed when finding out that your world, minus Kira of course, was pretty much the same as his. And Light could clearly feel how you always glared silently at him, wishing that he could somehow get rid of you because due to your more hostile behavior towards him L had also started to get more suspicious. He needed to do something about you.

✍️🍰But he never got the chance too. Not because he couldn’t, there were moments where he could have easily gotten rid of you. But more because he slowly started to change his impression he had from you. At first he had thought that you were just an annoying fangirls from L, like all the others he had himself. But you weren’t. You were more than that. You were surprisingly witty and fun to be with. Not only that, but you were also hardworking and had a good heart. You were the kind of human he wanted to have in this rotten world. You were purehearted. Even to him you became a bit more friendly over time despite knowing who he was. He couldn’t help, but sometimes suddenly think that you must have been sent here for a reason. To be sent here from some force that wanted to show Light the embodiment of perfection. So he started to change his plans. Instead of killing you he decided to make you his goddess/god and not only ruling over his world, but over yours as well.

✍️🍰L had been obsessed with you the moment you had arrived here, only pouring fuel into his fire of obsession after proving to him from where you really were. He obsessed over the fact that there was so much more in this universe he didn’t know. What other secrets were out there? Due to this he probably didn’t even realize when his obsession started becoming more romantic towards you, needing a long time until he understood that he had fallen in an unhealthy love with you. And suddenly his questions started revolving only around you, wanting to know very private things about you which even caused you to become uncomfortable.

✍️🍰L had a huge advantage in here because he was your favorite from everyone in Death Note. And that was unacceptable for Light. Why would you, his future queen/king want to spend any time with him? An sugar addicted insomniac? You should realize that Light was your future king, your god, your protector, your everything. But you just ignored him, choosing always L over him. And Light just knew that that bastard enjoyed it.

✍️🍰Both of them knew of their feelings for you and none of them was ecstatic about this. But L had the better cards in this games, being able to convince you into spending the majority of your time with him. And Light couldn’t do much about it, having to bite his tongue whenever he saw the both of you together and almost storming over and rip that guy away from you when he was touching you. The Death Note was maybe his preferred way of getting rid of every obstacle in his way, but by now he was ready to jump on L and strangle him because he didn’t even know that guy’s real name.

✍️🍰Another huge obstacle for Light was Misa, who was for him by now besides L the second biggest pain in his ass. Because you had told him one time before that he should feel glad to have someone as lovely as Misa as his girlfriend, always pushing him away with the words to better spend time with his girlfriend. Misa didn’t know about you for which Light was thankful, but whenever Misa touched him he couldn’t help, but cringe at this. What he wouldn’t have given to have you instead of Misa kissing him.

✍️🍰Now to the separate endings. If Light wins he will get rid of L, which will most likely sadden you very much even though you knew that this would happen. Light would at first try to keep you a secret from Misa, but he won’t be able to hide you forever from her and it will end with Light manipulating her into keeping an eye on you when he is busy with work. Light with his god complex would want to find a way back to your world to get rid of criminals and bad people in there as well. He won’t be just god of his world, but of yours as well. If L wins then you were able to push him with your subtle gestures and words into the right direction and helping him with convicting Light and Misa. L has a undeniable fascination with your world and would use the chance to explore it if he should ever get the chance too. He might find some sweets he hasn’t in his world. But I also believe that he would prefer to stay with you in his world since he is in his world able to keep you with him protect you.

#yandere death note #yandere light yagami #yandere light #yandere l #yandere l lawliet

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remember-to-be-gentle · 4 years

Text

Subject: BNHA, Hawks aka Keigo Takami

Title: Hunter and the Prey: Prologue (DARK, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Hunting, cannibalism, stalking

Keigo had a process. It was time consuming and slow, but in his mind, it was all worth it for the perfect hunt.

Once a year, the Japanese government allowed for crime to be legal for 24hrs, which gave him one year to prepare his hunt. He took his time selecting his prey, stalking a total of twelve each month and picking one from that batch before repeating the same process the next month. He’d done this for years, that is, until he met you. Keigo was in his forties now, the sides of hair graying, laugh lines and crow's feet spreading like cracks in his skin when he smiled, and being this old meant that he'd seen your type before. However, something was different, something he couldn't put a finger on.

It was January and Keigo already had half his list together for his hunt.

Maybe it was because during the rush in a small coffee shop, you and five friends were the loudest people in the room, ignoring your over complicated drinks in favor of gossip. Personal information flew from your mouths without a second thought, tangling everyone inside with sticky webs of exaggerated information about strangers. You sat in the middle, laughing obnoxiously as your friends spun tales that were probably as true their insta profiles. Everyone in the room shot glares at your party, but none were brave enough to quell the wagging tongues of gossiping women.

He hated you.

It wasn't like you or your friends had quirks to make them intimidating either, as the population was 80% quirkless. All the fear you inspired came from a flapping pink muscle that would do society better if it were cooking on his grill with a little salt, pepper, and garlic.

So, Keigo did what he did best, he researched you. It wasn’t like it was hard. In today’s age of technology and cameras, all he had to do was sneak a picture of your face and reverse image search it. He found your Instagram, Facebook, an abandoned MySpace, even a Twitter where you complained nonstop about how people drove nowadays.

He was in love.

Not with you, per se, but the idea of hunting bitches like you.

Keigo had always gotten a kick from chasing down a villain, knowing they were desperate for escape and he was the cause. Just the thought of forcing someone’s fight-or-flight instincts into high gear until they couldn’t think straight had his heart pumping and mouth salivating. You... you’d clearly lived a cushy life, not being told by family or your obnoxious friends how awful you really were, never having to fend for yourself or others... You were a spoiled brat through and through. He wanted to watch you suffer, to run for your life and break your manicured nails as you screamed your pretty throat raw for help. Just imagining those heavily made up eyes streaming with black tears had his pants constricting around him.

He knew tender, fatty meat like yours was the best. Children raised in comfort tasted the best: he knew that from experience.

Your friends weren’t a bad catch either. They were all pretty and just the right amount of curvy to have virgins in the palms of their hands, and at least one of them had an OnlyFans, though her subscriber rate was below a hundred and her pics were not worth the price. He’d have to do some research to make sure all those curves were natural, but otherwise, he was just as excited to hunt them. A group of bratty girls to hunt and scream and cry and beg. Maybe it was the cold or old age catching up with him that made Keigo complacent with gathering his potential prey so early, either way, that aching, primal hunger inside him was salivating at the thought of your foolish friends sobbing from the hell on earth he’d put you all through.

June couldn’t come soon enough.

So as usual Keigo made his plans, he finalized his research and sent a picture of his targets to their future captors: his employees better known as his surviving children. Then, he filed time off work for two weeks, the middle of those days landing right on the summer solstice: Purge Night.

Right at 12:01, his targets would be taken from their beds and brought to his island. Once they were safely on his property, there wouldn't be a thing anyone could do to save them.

The island itself was large for one person to own it. It had been a gift some years ago from another hero who used it for training and wanted Keigo to improve fast in the competitive world of heroes. When he'd first arrived, the island was dense with trees and wild animals, an old house right on the crescent shaped beach beside the dock.

At first he'd been reluctant to use this area, having only flown in the city, but Keigo quickly adapted to the jungle-like environment. His instincts had kicked in, and just like that, he'd begun hunting the wildlife that lived on the island. It gave him a thrill he couldn't describe, awoken a primal hunger that lay deep in his belly... He wanted to hunt more. He wanted to hunt something smarter: bigger.

He wanted to hunt humans, although he didn't know it yet.

The first time had been an accident, or at least that's what he'd told authorities that came to investigate the disappearance of his hero mentor. Keigo had lived alone on the island so long that when game bigger and smarter than he'd ever encountered rustled the leaves and spooked the animals, he'd given into his primal urges and hunted.

He'd told authorities that he thought the hero was an intruder, that it was self defense, and since the island was already legally his, no one could claim otherwise: he was untouchable in his little paradise.

Explaining where the other half of the hero's torso was another matter, though. That was harder to cover up, but smooth lies and tired sighs had the police believing that it was an animal that had bisected his body. They never searched the house.

Even if they had, they would have never found the carefully cut up body, arranged and packaged like preserved wild game. They would have been none the wiser even if they'd been smarter.

After Keigo had had that first taste, he couldn't forget it. He craved more.

The second time was not an accident.

He was a hero, he knew how the missing were tracked and so took the time to avoid what would attract attention. Low profile villains. No one with large families or children, no one with a job that relied on them. No one that would be missed.

It was surpassingly easy to lure people to his island, they were all too eager to trust an upcoming hero. But that got boring fast. That trusting nature of theirs made it hard to make them run, he practically had to throw them out into the jungle, and still, they barely ran. The chase was mediocre.

He’d found the best way to hunt his prey was to take them by surprise, no more choices or showing his face: that ruined the game. They had to be unwilling and unknowledgeable.

That’s what made you and your friends so tempting: the only people who’d miss you lot were each other and none of you were interested in anything except partying. You’d be the perfect prey. You’d wouldn’t be mourned except maybe college dudes missing pussy. You were a spoiled nobody and Keigo wanted a taste of your plump, privileged meat.

Keigo couldn’t wait until June.

#Raven Writes #BNHA #My Hero Academia #Hawks #Keigo Takami #Hawks x Reader #Keigo Takami x Reader #TW cannibalism #tw stalking #tw hunting

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kanri-tea · 3 years

Text

The TDD get punted into the world of Demon Slayer via illegal microphone, starring:

Ramuda as Tanjiro

Jakurai as Nezuko

Ichiro as Zenitsu

Samatoki as Inosuke

None of them know what's going on and they're all disasters (they blame Ichiro though, this anime-esque shit has got to be Ichiro's fault). The only mostly responsible one has been turned into a demon and Ramuda is panic-screeching in his mind.

Ramuda and Jakurai live together. Jakurai runs a small cliniic and orphanage which he's been running for quite some time before he stumbled upon a child Ramuda and took him in.

Ramuda was not a happy camper when he comes to and comes face to face with Jakurai, but since they're in the Edo period ("We are in the Taisho era, Amemura-kun" "Ugh, whatever! Close enough!"), he figures it'll be safer if he sticks with the old man.

Ichiro is an orphan that gets picked up by Kuwajima like Zenitsu, but no electrocution for this boy. He's a diligent student, but can't seem to really pick up any other of the Thunder Breathing forms other than the first one because of plot device

Samatoki grows up in the forest as well, but he is a civilized person no matter what anyone may say. Plus, he has some experience of survival cooking thanks to Rio. His Beast Breathing is a combination of influence from the wild animals that he grows up with and memories of Rio and Jyuto

Ramuda returns from selling coal when Muzan kills everyone at the clinic and turns Jakurai into a demon, paralleling canon with Tanjiro and Nezuko. Jakurai doesn't recognize Ramuda at first, mind still stuck in the in-between of human and demon. He doesn't eat anyone but he does nearly attack Ramuda when he gets back but regains his mind at the last second.

After an encounter with Giyuu and Jakurai proving that he's still very much himself, Ramuda travels to find Urokodaki with a child sized Jakurai in a basket. It is very awkward for both of them and Ramuda promises that he'll find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human

Ramuda is very much panicking and screeching in his mind because what the fuck is going on and why the fuck do demons of all things suddenly exist and Ichiro, this is totally your fault, what is this, an anime???

Jakurai is a very tired (tm) and kinda pissed that he has to rely on Ramuda now. He's also a little mad about having to be the size of a toddler most of the time

Ramuda learns Water Breathing while Jakurai starts rehoning his assassin skills. He might be a healer now, but with how dangerous this world seems to be, well, someone has to watch Ramuda's back.

Along the way, Ramuda figures out that he can use his microphone's ability along with Water Breathing. His sense of smell is also ridiculously good for some reason, which is helpful to find demons, he supposes. Jakurai on the other hand, finds out that not only can he use blood demon arts, but also use his microphone's ability, except it's more like he can help others regenerate/heal fast. They're both really weirded out, but hey, at least its useful???

Ramuda ends up meeting Ichiro on his way to Tsuzumi Mansion. To say that they're surprised would be a huge understatement. Ichiro had assumed that he was alone while Ramuda had assumed that it was only him and Jakurai. Jakurai is conveniently asleep in the box when this happens and it slips Ramuda's mind to tell Ichiro. Ichiro is slightly suspicious though, because his sense of hearing is really good and he's pretty sure there's a demon in there, but Ramuda wasn't saying anything???

Samatoki is trapped in Tsuzumi Mansion and cursing himself for rushing in without a plan when he encounters Ichiro with a civilian kid. While surprised to see each other, they nearly start fighting before being reminded that hey, they're kinda in a demon lair right now.

When Ramuda, Ichiro, and Samatoki finally reunite, it's a bit bittersweet because on one hand, they're really glad they're not the only ones here, but on the other hand, why are they in this weird ass world?

Also, Ichiro and Samatoki question, if the three of them were here, where was Jakurai?

"Uhhh... Yeeeah... About that... The old man is kinda, uh." Ramuda sweats his way through this conversation, "I'll tell you guys when we get to the Wisteria house, 'kay?"

When they finally get to the House with the Wisteria family crest ("Holy shit, that old lady is creepy." "Stop being a baby, Ichiro.") Ramuda finally reluctantly reveals what happened to Jakurai.

"So, about the old man. We kinda ended up together," Ramuda starts explaining, "Like he ran a clinic and everything and I lived there for a while."

"Eh, did he stay behind?" Ichiro questioned, confused to where this conversation was going. Samatoki is nodding next to him, confused.

"About two years back, we... the clinic got attacked by a demon. Muzan," Ramuda breaths, "And the old man..."

Ichiro and Samatoki's eyes widen. Was Jakurai dead?

"... Jakurai got turned into a demon," Ramuda finally admits. He turns towards the box and raps his knuckles on it.

"Yo, old man. Are you coming out or not? You've been asleep in there for ages!"

The door of the box swings open, a tiny hand revealing itself before its owner crawls out, purple hair splayed everywhere.

"What," Samatoki breathlessly stares, "the fuck."

A toddler-sized Jinguji Jakurai stares back, muzzled mouth quirking down and an unimpressed look plastered on his child-like face.

Both Ichiro and Samatoki are very, very surprised. They quickly agree to help Ramuda find a way to turn Jakurai back into a human. If they happen to spend a couple minutes cooing over how cute he looks, well that's no one else's business, now is it?

They learn that while Jakura has retained his mind, his body is still very much like a demon's. He can't stand in sunlight or eat human food. His energy comes from sleeping and while he can speak, but only when he's in his adult form. He's more or less non-verbal as a child.

Ichiro stews in his thoughts in the meantime. He's fairly sure this is the plot of an anime he saw once... He keeps quiet though because he's not 100% certain, but did the illegal mic seriously punt them into an anime?

Jakurai is very unhappy with what happened at Natagumo mountain and is even more unhappy with being stabbed multiple times while in the box while being put on trial. Honestly, what sort of barbaric trial is this? Hitoya would be so dissapointed.

When Sanemi tries to bait Jakurai using his own blood, Jakurai just sends a "I'm very exhausted and exasperated" look at Ramuda

"Oyakata-sama," Jakurai hears someone scream, "I will present to you the ugliness of what we call demons!"

He's mildly cranky at being woken up by all this chattering and being suddenly stabbed, but even that isn't able to distract him from the sudden scent of blood seeping into the box.

Sweet... But, no, Jakurai had sworn that he would not fall prey to these demonic temptations.

"Hey demon! It's time to eat! Sink your teeth on this!"

As the door of the box is ripped open, Jakurai frowns at the rudeness. The blood is tempting, yes, but more importantly...

Jakurai tilts his head to look at Ramuda. Are they serious?

No fucking duh! The look Ramuda shoots back is scathing and furious, though more because he was being restrained by the man with the snake then at Jakurai.

"Shinazugawa-kun, was it," he sighs as the people watching gasp. He's well aware that he's rather tall, even in the modern age.

"You shouldn't needlessly injure yourself," he grabs a roll of bandages and starts wrapping the young man's wound. The boy looks rather shocked and angry, but Jakurai didn't really have the energy to really care.

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

Jakurai hears the confusion around him, but chose to ignore it. Giyuu and Ramuda could deal with the questions later, he decided, Jakurai was already exhausted from Natagumo mountain.

"Wait a second!"

Jakurai turns, finishing up wrapping the young man's arm.

"I thought the box was stupidly heavy, but you're like the size of a toddler normally," Ramuda starts, "Have I been basically carrying a shit-ton of medical supplies?!"

Jakurai rolled his eyes, shooting the most unimpressed look he could at the pink-haired gremlin, "Well someone has to take care of your injuries, no?"

"You - you stupid old man! I can't believe anyone calls you saint! Aaughh!! I hope you break your back!"

"That would most assuredly be very difficult to do with my regeneration. Though, I suppose object permanence is rather difficult for children like you."

Maybe they should tone down their arguments a little... nah. It effectively derails the meeting, which was the entire point of Ramuda's outburst, of course.

When Ramuda and Jakurai finally arrive at the Butterfly estate, they find Ichiro with shrunken limbs ("The medicine sucks, but it's nothing worse than what sensei's given me before...") and Samatoki with a crushed throat ("Fuck... I was so weak..."). Ramuda is also in a lot of pain. Jakurai manages to recover fairly quickly with lots of sleep and spends a lot of their recovery time assisting the nurses.

Ramuda tries to figure out why he can do Hinokami Kagura and is very confused. Jakurai tiredly reminds him that it's probably because he used to watch Tanjuro, a former patient who lived at the clinic, do it. While Jakurai only knows about Hinokami Kagura as a ritual dance, he is reminded that the sick and frail man had died and left behind a pair of strange-looking earrings.

When training begins, Ichiro, Samatoki, Ramuda are motivated and stubborn to a fault, so they manage to learn Total Concentration: Constant. Ramuda also has a conversation with the Butterfly pillar, Shinobu ("Please do your best, Ramuda-kun. When I see you doing your best in my stead, I feel much better."), it makes him think back on his relationship with the Chuuoku. These people... They care a lot and they're fighting for their lives and humanity every day. They aren't even comparable to manipulations and cruelty of the Chuuoku, and Ramuda wonders a bit if he even wants to go back. Sure, there's Gentaro and Dice, but... here, he's not sick. He's not living day-to-day wondering if he'll outlive his usefulness. Here... he's able to stay at Jakurai's side.

Jakurai is the one to become friends with Kanao is this universe, because let's be honest here, Ramuda is really not the type to be nice out of the goodness of his heart, and Ichiro would probably do it, but he's kinda still recovering from nearly becoming a spider.

"You should listen to your own heart," the purple-haired demon hums. He's talking to her, but Kanao doesn't know why. The demon - Jakurai, she thinks - had been taking time out of his day since he'd recovered to talk to her.

She doesn't respond often. Her coin doesn't land on tails that often, but it doesn't seem to bother the tall demon. And tall he is, his height easily looming over her, but there's an aura of kindness and gentleness that tells Kanao that this demon wouldn't hurt her. It's a strange thing to think about a demon.

It's Jakurai's last day here. The other demon slayers, including the one that Jakurai travels with is leaving. Kanao isn't sure, but she thinks she might be a little sad about it. The demon has been good company, she has to admit to herself a little.

"People," she hears him breathe, "are driven by their hearts. If you live by your heart, your heart will grow stronger than ever."

Jakurai smiles down at her. It's gentle and warm and his eyes crinkle a little bit at the edges. He ruffles her hair a bit, a familiar motion over the course of the month.

She knows it's time for him to leave when he gets up. He leans over and straighten outs the butterfly in her hair, giving one last kind smile.

"Live by your heart's desire, Kanao. And stay healthy."

With that, he leaves, leaving Kanao behind contemplating his words. Could she really live like that? Live by her heart's desires...? There was something in the kind demon's words and smiles that made her think that maybe, just maybe... she could.

Samatoki and Ramuda's first impression of Rengoku is that he's a weirdo. Ichiro on the other hand thinks he's kinda cool. Jakurai is asleep and therefore doesn't care.

When they're put asleep by Enmu, they end up dreaming about their respective division (sans Jakurai). It's also a bit of a harsh awakening that they've all gotten pretty complacent of this world and that they need to find a way to get back to the modern age ASAP.

When Rengoku is nearly dead because of Akaza, Ichiro, Samatoki, and Ramuda are inconveniently a little bit attached to the strange Hashira. As a desperate last resort, Ramuda gets Jakurai to try and heal the man. After all, they were all sick of the people they cared about dying and if this could save him...

"There's no point in shouting now," Ramuda hears the hashira call out from behind him. His vision is blurry from tears, and distantly, he recognizes the resigned tone in the man's voice. Rengoku Kyoujuro was had already accepted his death as inevitable.

"The wound on my stomach is opening," the man tells Ramuda, "And your injuries aren't minor either."

Samatoki is watching silently and Ramuda can see out of the corner of eye that Ichiro is making sure Jakurai doesn't get killed by the sun.

Wait. Jakurai. The old man could heal Rengoku, right?

It takes a moment of shouting to Samatoki and Ichiro to convey his idea, but even as Rengoku is staring at them with a single, intense eye, they manage to get Jakurai and Rengoku into the shaded trees of the forest nearby.

"Ramuda-kun," Jakurai quietly says, before focusing his attention on Rengoku's injuries. It's not a promise, Ramuda knows, but Jakurai is a doctor through and through. He'll do his best to ensure that Rengoku survives, he knows this.

Rengoku is watching them confused, a couple of protests having spilled out, but he's ignored in favor of getting Jakurai over as quickly as possible.

Ramuda has seen Jakurai heal a couple of people over the years with his ability, but it's always amazing to see it like this rather than through a microphone.

"Hypnosis Microphone: Medication," Jakurai breathes, and as his hands glows, the injuries beneath start to mend themselves. It starts off slow, but as color returns to the hashira's cheeks and breathing evens out, Ramuda knows that it's working. Knows that Jakurai is doing everything he can to heal the man.

There's going to lots and lots of questions later, Ramuda knows, but for now he's glad. He's glad that Jakurai is here, that Ichiro and Samatoki are here, that he's not alone.

He's glad that he doesn't have to see another person that he cares about die.

#hypnosis mic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #the dirty dawg #jinguji jakurai #amemura ramuda #yamada ichiro #aohitsugi samatoki #crack treated seriously #this was fueled by the demon slayer movie #demon slayer! au #kanao kochou #rengoku kyoujurou

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lyranova · 3 years

Text

Leon and Alistar

Hi guys! So here’s Part 1 of a co-op fic of mine and @thoughtfullyrainynightmare ! We had to split it into 2 parts because it was so long 😅! Anyway hope you all enjoy~! Also this isn’t edited very well my apologies!

Word Count: 3,034

Taglist: @eme-eleff @jovialnoise @simpingforthisonedeer @succulentsunrise

Warnings: None

———

Clouds floated through the blue sky as people started gathering at the training grounds of Magic Knights' headquarters. New squad members had been admitted to the squads once more this year, but for most of them it was a day off.

However, that wasn't the case for these knights, who had been off on the evaluation day, since their parents had admitted them to the squad even without partaking into the exam. And this training took place for the purpose of bringing together the next generation of potential squad captains, or those who'd otherwise most likely end up in prominent roles in the kingdom.

The young knights were no strangers to each other; having passed each other by because of their parents' relationships, but this would be the first day of properly training together. Training and building towards a a more unionized generation of Magic Knights, where the robe you wore wouldn't be a stigma, creating "us or them" mentality within the knight ranks.

The Wizard King and Magic Knight Captains considered it one step closer to realizing their dreams of making one unified society. Alistar Vangeance, son of the Golden Dawn’s Captain, was the first to arrive at the Magic Knights HQ for this ‘bonding’ exercise. He admittedly thought it was a good idea, but he was a little hesitant as he didn’t know much about the other children except for Hikari. He leaned against one of the walls in the room as he watched the other children enter one by one, the Captains were all seated in the gallery above so they could get a bird’s eye view of the exercise.

“ Hm I wonder why the Vermillion kids are?” Hikari asked suddenly, making Alistar look at her. All the other children were there except for them.

“ Maybe they’re just running late?” He shrugged simply before the doors opened to reveal the Vermillion twins. Leonidas and Cyraleona.

“ Sorry we’re late, we got held up in the city, it won’t happen again.” Leonidas promised as his sister nodded in agreement. Fuegoleon sat down in his seat quickly as well.

Alistar admittedly had only met the two in passing and was usually very polite. As the orange haired young man walked past him Alistar nodded politely.

“ Leonidas.” The young man turned and nodded politely as well.

“ Alistar.”

Cyraleona quirked an eyebrow at her brother. He was keeping it civil, but there was something about the exchange that seemed tense, more so than usually. It was supposed to be about building better relations, but instead it seemed, at that moment, more as if both of them being prepared to defend their family honour.

"Hikari,"" she acknowledge with a smile while glancing at the raven haired girl next to Alistair, in the hopes of gently nudging her brother.

"Hi," Hikari greeted back. "Nice day, isn't it? Training is much more fun when it's not pouring down."

"Yes," Leonidas agreed with a small nod, glancing at Hikari and giving her a polite smile.

"Indeed," Alistair agreed as well, doing the same.

A moment of silence hung in the air as the grown-ups talked amongst themselves on the balcony; probably going through the day's agenda.

"I wonder what will be in store for the day," Hikari pondered out loud. "I can't imagine we'll be sparring for the whole day."

Alistar shrugged as he also looked up toward the adults. He was sure they probably had more planned then just fighting, especially since they kept calling it a ‘bonding’ experience. He noticed the Vermillion twins doing the same.

“ I would like to think it’ll be more than training. But who knows with our parents, especially since they do like to surprise us every now and then with something unexpected.” He chuckled and Hikari nodded.

“ They’ll probably have us start out with sparring and maybe even have us go out on a mock mission or something to test our skills as a team.” Cyrleona said softly as she turned to look back at the small group. Leonidas nodded.

“ That would be the smartest move, pair up two people to spar against one another and then make them have to work together.” Alistar placed a hand thoughtfully under his chin.

“ You sound like you know a lot more about this than you’re letting on.” Alistar meant it to come off as a joke, but it came out more like a serious statement. He watched Leonidas’s eyes narrow a bit before Hikari sighed beside him.

“ Well if that’s the case I hope I’m not paired up with you Alistar,” Hikari said quickly changing the subject. “ As your bodyguard I’m meant to protect you, not hurt you.”

As Alistar went to open his mouth to reply he watched as all the adults stood at the balconies edge and faced their children

"Listen up you brats," Yami was the first to speak up as he let his gaze travel around the room freely, but still looking at Hikari fondly for a brief second. "We have a full day planned ahead for you, so listen first and ask questions second."

Charlotte glanced at him from the corner of her eye, clearly disagreeing with his choice of words. But. He had always been like that, and though he was much more gentle around their kids, he hadn't changed the way he spoke to other's kids.

"Thank you Yami," William smiled at him. "I believe we all know why where here, so we can skip right through to the events of the day. You can probably guess that our aim isn't to only have you train in combat, but also grow in other areas of life."

Hikari could see a faint smirk pass over Alistair's lips as his father spoke the word 'grow'. But the moment only lasted for a fraction of a second, and no one else had noticed.

"You will begin the day by sparring in pairs, and to avoid our personal opinions on who should train with whom, we'll be drawing lots for the pairs," Fuegoleon continued. "And after you have sparred, you'll be partaking on a treasure hunt with your peer."

"A treasure hunt?" Cyra mumbled to herself. Her voice was full of surprise and spoken with a delicate tone, one that no one but the four of them could most likely hear.

“ Now,” Charlotte began as she stepped forward with a small goblet full of lots with the childrens names on them. One by one the Captain’s pulled out the names written on them. Alistar partially hoped he would be training with Hikari, but a small piece of his heart protested; he didn’t want to fight her, ever. Because that meant he could possibly hurt her.

“ Alistar Vangeance,” Yami suddenly announced as he looked at the lot with the white haired boy’s name on it. He hoped beyond hope the next lot would be Hikari’s, but his hopes were dashed when Yami read. “ Leonidas Vermillion.”

The two teens looked at each other with wide eyes as did the young girls. None had been expecting that. Alistar couldn’t even remember what Leonidas’s affinity was and Leonidas happened to be thinking the same thing.

Leonidas and Alistar quickly looked up towards the adults and saw the looks on their father’s faces; there was no way out of this.

“ Which leaves Hikari and Cyraleona as the last pair, we’ll be calling your names randomly to start the sparring matches.” William announced and the kids went off in their pairs. Hikari looked at Alistar apologetically and quickly mouthed ‘you’ll be ok!’ before going off with Cyraleona.

“ Well you were right; our parents do like to surprise us.” Leonidas told him before walking away and Alistar nodded in agreement before following after him to a nearby corner where they stood somewhat uncomfortably next to each other as they watched the other kids spar when their names were being called.

They walked up to the training grounds, standing on opposite side of the arena and looking at each other. Alistair took out his grimoire, leaving Leon wonder if he should do the same.

‘I've just finished crafting it, and I've been fine until now... But mom always says that I shouldn't rely on more simple spells at all times.’ He thought to himself, seeing Alistair frown.

‘Why isn't he taking out his grimoire? He does intend to use spells, right?’ His gaze shifted for a moment to the adults who hadn't yet given them permission to start the battle.

At the side of the field, Cyraleona couldn't help but lean a bit forward, while trying to keep herself otherwise composed. Leonidas hadn't yet shown her his grimoire, and he had used a good while in the process of making it in the first place. Thus, she couldn't help but feel the flicker of excitement of probably seeing him fight with it for the first time.

‘No... I think I can manifest it during the battle if need be. Because your grimoire is your lifeline, right? Any attacks to it would mean certain death, right? Because Cloverians' life is connected into their grimoires while for Theans it's a manifestation of their powers, right? And I'm both, so I can't say for certain.’ He took a deep breath and set his mind to the task.

"Oy-oy Vermillion. What's up with your boy?" Yami asked on the balcony. "He's not taking out his grimoire."

"It's something he gets from his mother's side," Fue only commented. "I can't say that I agree with it, but it's his choice to make."

William frowned at Fuegoleon’s comment but didn’t say anything, he just turned to look back at the battle. Alistar looked calm and relaxed, but those that knew him knew better; he was anticipating his attack. Possibly even trying to guess what the young Vermillions first move would be.

“ You may begin!” Nozel shouted suddenly just as Alistar tilted his head curiously.

‘Let’s see what you’ve got, Vermillion.’ He instantly flipped through the pages of his grimoire as he finally landed on a spell. He smiled slightly before it disappeared, this would probably be his safest bet to try since he didn’t know what magic to use.

“ World Plant Creation Magic; Ice-Plant’s entanglement!” He watched as the fire resistant plant began to spring up from the floor and tried to wrap around Leonidas.

The boys began to dodge and maneuver around the arena as they cast offensive and defensive spells at one another. Hikari watched with a smirk on her face; he was giving Alistar a run for his money, the only one she had seen ever give him this much of a challenge was herself.

‘Come on Alistar you’ve got this! Push past your limits!’ She cheered internally, she wanted her best friend to succeed.

“ Your sons doing a very fine job Fuegoleon.” William complimanted, Fuego smiled and nodded.

“ As is yours. We raised two very capable mages I think.” Fuego said as his son sent another spell towards the young Vangeance

"Burning Sun Magic; Sunrays!" He called out while shooting scorching rays at Alistair.

‘Damn it! I can't win like this. This isn't Thea so I don't have a nearly endless pool of mana from which to draw. He's going to run out of mana too if we keep this up, but then it'll be a question of which runs out first. And relying on the 'chance' that it'd be him, would be just bad tactics.’ He took the moment he had while Alistair was dodging his attack to collect his mana, and manifest his grimoire before him.

"Hm?" Yami hummed while leaning closer. "He's creating a grimoire?"

"'Creating' wouldn't be the correct term to use here," Fuegoleon commented. "He has had his grimoire for a few months now, but for some reason he refuses to use it."

William glance at Fuegoleon, unsure of how to feel because of the explanation. But if Leonidas indeed refused to use his grimoire freely then that must've meant that Alistair had forced him to do so. And that could be counted as a compliment, right?

Leon collected mana, as if waves of pure energy collecting in his hands. And as soon as it had formed into a shape of a book, he let the pages flutter open as he called out: "Burning Sun magic; Heat wave!"

The arena became flooded with scorching, burning mana, while Leon spoke out: "I might not be able to burn your plants. But they can still wilt, right? And even if your magic won't, the 'you' can get dehydrated, right?"

‘This is my safest bet. I might not be able to hit him, but if he can't get far enough from my spell's reach, then he has to go all out and maybe, maybe exhaust himself.’ Leonidas thought.

———

Alistar and Leonidas stood there listening as the Captain’s explained the Treasure hunt. Both had fainted from excessive mana use, which was somewhat embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as Hikari chewing Alistar out for it in front of everyone, while Cyraleona had gently scolded her twin. Fuego and William both shook their heads in disapproval, but their battle ending in a draw meant two things; one, that they were evenly matched, and two they both still had a lot to learn.

“ Now the rules are simple; each team has a map and a compass, you are not allowed to use mapping spells as not every mage has one. You have 2 hours to find the treasure, if no one finds it then it will be a draw.” Vangeance explained quickly.

“ Your time begins now.” Fugeo announced and each team went off in different directions.

Alistar glanced over at Leonidas as they went off in the direction the compass led them, he gave Leonidas the compass while he held the map. They walked silently for the most part, saying a few coordinates here and there.

“ What does this thing even look like?” He muttered and the orange haired male shrugged.

“ Like a box I assume.” Leonidas muttered as well, both were feeling a little defeated at their sparring match, but maybe if they found the treasure before anyone else would make up for it. Alistar for sure wanted to find it before Hikari, they had made a small bet that the losing team would have to do whatever the winning team asked for an entire day.

"I really thought that they would have had something more... intellectually stimulating in store for us...." Alistair muttered to himself as they continued forward.

"Yeah..." Leonidas agreed. "Something more than travel an X amount of miles to a given distance and dig up a box would have been nice."

"If it even is a box," Alistair frowned while looking at the map in his hand.

"What else could it possibly be? It has to be something small enough for us to carry, right?" Leonidas shrugged again while looking at the white haired male.

"That's true," Alistair admitted. "But the girls went to the opposite direction, so we aren't competing for the same treasure. That has to mean something."

They shared a glance as they both thought about what it could possibly mean while a silence settled into the air.

"How far is it supposed to be?" Leonidas asked after a while of pondering.

"Well, given how much we've moved during this time, I'd say half an hour more," Alistair commented.

"You think it could be a dungeon, or is it an open area?" Leonidas asked, wanting to have a better idea of what they'd be instore for.

"I don't think it really qualifies as a dungeon, but there might be a structure nearby it."

“ Hm,” Alistar looked around before he started walking again. “ they would want it to be concealed but not too concealed where we can’t find it.” He muttered looking around.

“ How about that building over there? It looks like the perfect spot.” Leonidas pointed toward a small, half standing building in the distance. It was in an open area but behind it stood dark woods, an ambush could easily be inside. The two boys quickly made their way towards it slowly.

“ Be cautious; we don’t know what we’re in for.” Alistar said and the orange haired boy nodded in agreement, Alistar and Leonidas stood still for a few moments. Both trying to sense if there was mana inside the building.

“ It’s faint, but it’s there.” Leonidas said as he looked towards the white haired boy who nodded.

“ Yeah, someone’s in there. But it feels like one person so I think we can take them.” Alistar said thoughtfully before the two boys rushed in and saw...nothing?

“ Hm this is odd, why do we feel mana but there isn’t a single person here?” Leonidas mused as he looked around, Alistar shrugged as he walked to the center of the room where the “treasure” sat.

“ Well, this is anticlimatic.” Alistar chuckled. “ I was hoping it would be something *more* then just a box-.” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as they were attacked suddenly by people in bandits robes.

“ Ah I should’ve know; our parents wouldn’t make getting the treasure that easy.” Leonidas chuckled as he and Alistar began to fight off the “bandits”.

Luckily it was the two of them against three, and since they knew it to be a fake fight, the battle didn't take long. And, as suspected, the "bandits" turned out to be members of their parents' squads. ‘Too easy’ Alistair and Leon thought to themselves.

They were able to grab the box, which was a simple wooden one, seemingly nothing much on it. There was only a faint glow of mana from it, almost as if long forgotten, dormant mana.

"Should we still see what's inside of it?" Leon thought out loud.

Alistair turned his head for a moment before shrugging. "Well it's not against the rules, so suppose there's no harm in it."

The two halted their steps to inspect the box. The lock of it didn't pose any problems to them, so it didn't take long for the two of them to crack open the lid to reveal... an image of a red herring.

———

Part 2 will be posted shortly! Thank you guys for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#black clover fanfic #oc fanfic #oc; alistar #oc; leonidas #leonidas is not my oc #oc; hikari #hikari is not my oc #oc; cyraleona #cyraleona is not my oc #william vangeance #fuegoleon vermillion

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nevtelenwriting · 4 years

Text

You Can Be a Hero

Gen: Shinsou Hitoshi & Dadzawa Aizawa

Rating: Teen?

Just a one-shot that’s part headcanon, part of a longer character-study fic I’m fiddling with for my favorite goth son Shinsou (one sided pining after Aizawa if you squint, Shinsou you poor disaster gay)

How Shinsou started training with Aizawa

“You were good at the festival.”

Shinsou nearly trips over himself in surprise. He’d been on his way home for the day, head down and ignoring yet another long series of meaningful looks from his schoolmates down the hallway. Being in a school of people with the best of the best of quirks meant less looked at him with fear; though not all. At this point it was just aggravating, a tired rhetoric he’d spent his school years shrugging off.

However, those days following the festival he’d noticed an uptick of people seeing his power as less…villainous. No one called it good yet, though. That was fine. He knew he had an uphill battle to fight, he’d known ever since this quirk manifested.

Shinsou never expected a hero to scout after him, not while he was still in General and a first year, so hearing the low timbre of Eraserhead behind him just about made him swallow his tongue in shock.

Shinsou whips around on his heel to look dead at the greatest role model he’s ever known, leaning casually against the outside wall of Shinsou's homeroom. He’s never been this close to Eraserhead despite being in the same school. He's larger than life itself, both as casual looking as a man could be yet swallowed by an air of competency and intimidation. Thankfully those awful bandages were gone from the infamous attack at USJ. He appeared fully recovered from an attack that would have killed any hero lesser than Eraserhead.

Shinsou knows what Eraserhead was capable of. Everyone else idolizes All Might--not that Shinsou didn't also see his goodness--but Shinsou’s idol has always been Eraserhead.

Another reason he resents the kids in class 1-A; they had the incomparable gift of having the greatest underground hero of all time teaching them, and no one seemed to notice or care. He doubts any of them even knew without being told who Aizawa was.

Aizawa stares at him levelly, not betraying any reaction as he mused, “Didn’t expect you to be someone easily snuck up on.”

“What can I say,” Shinsou retorts quickly, more reflex than anything, “I guess I’m not as good as the best stealth hero in the world.”

“Japan, sure,” Aizawa replies just as effortless, and if he could see his mouth beyond his capture scarf Shinsou thought he might be smirking, “Not sure about the whole world.”

Shinsou’s convinced now he’s dreaming, because there is no way in any universe he’s quipping with his idol. Shinsou isn’t that lucky, he’s not blessed.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, regards Eraserhead quietly. He goes back to that first jarring statement as he mutters, “You don’t have to say that. I wasn’t good enough to advance.”

“No, you weren’t.” Aizawa agrees, neither condescending nor placating. “Your grasp on your quirk is rudimentary, but decent. I doubt you’ve had any formal training?”

“Not a lot of people signing up to help the guy that can make you stand on your head,” Shinsou drawls, a level of bitterness in his words.

“So you use your quirk whenever you please then.” Aizawa says softly, also matter-of-fact, no hint of condemnation but also no question about it. “You know that’s against school rules.”

Shinsou grimaces but doesn’t reply. He wouldn’t apologize for using his quirk. He had to practice, and he never made anyone do anything bad. It was easier to be left alone when he could get people to do it himself, and he also needed to learn how to strength his abilities if he ever hoped to succeed.

“I don’t need a lecture,” Shinsou finally decides on. “If I plan on joining your course I need to take what I can get.”

“I’m not here to lecture.”

“Then you’re here to feel sorry for me.” Shinsou says flatly, albeit a little too quickly.

Aizawa stares at him, too quiet, and Shinsou hates how he’s talked to him. Aizawa probably thinks he’s petulant, ungrateful for the sparse moments he’s been granted here just being acknowledged by his hero.

“You’re very careful about closed-ended statements. Usually you use open-ended ones.”

Shinsou nearly flinches. No one had ever caught that before. The thing was his quirk wasn’t activated by questions, specifically, but responses to his statements. He couldn’t explain what it was, but he could feel the difference in the way he phrased his words, how some statements opened his mind and left room for the invisible tendrils reaching out, ready to latch onto the first to bite down and pull them in. Questions were the easiest way to create that space, and that’s how he wrote out the trigger for his quirk on paper. It meant that people only hesitated when they heard the lilt of a question his voice. Had Aizawa figured out it wasn’t so literal?

Shinsou would usually feign ignorance here. He’d remark how strange that was, but this is Aizawa. He deserved the respect of his honesty.

“I didn’t want you to worry about talking to me.”

Aizawa absorbs this, brows twitching a little together as he considers the weight of that awfully vulnerable admission. Shinsou wishes he could take it back the moment it left his mouth.

“That doesn’t concern me. I doubt you’d abuse your quirk that way.”

Shinsou stares at him, loss for words and at a loss for why Eraserhead was wasting his time with him here. If he doesn’t care, then…

“So why are you here?” Shinsou asks, testing the waters in more than one way.

Aizawa doesn’t hesitate, “I wanted to talk to you about your courses. Come with me for a moment.”

Shinsou almost balks, but Aizawa has already pushed away from the wall, hands in his pockets as he meanders down the hall. Shinsou follows after him.

“Your quirk could have many applications in pro work, but the best is obviously apprehension and de-escalation. How complex of an action can you make someone do?” Aizawa fills the silence as they walk to the Hero classes wing, and Shinsou is again, jarringly, lost for words. He’s always been articulate, and he supposes that it was necessary for his quirk to work. He was still in shock Aizawa was talking to him, though, asking him about his abilities, that his head still reeled on why instead of answering his logical questions.

“Um,” Shinsou starts eloquently, “Not really anything complex. Simple actions, one at a time. Like making someone start or stop something.”

“Time limit?”

“Not sure.”

“Longest control then.”

Shinsou scratches his cheek, “Longest so far has been the cavalry battle. But I was able to actively keep renewing the hold whenever I gave new directions.”

“I see. What about distance?”

“Distance effects it, but I don’t know exactly. I can feel the hold strain when someone gets further away from me.”

“So you really haven’t tested limits yet.”

Shinsou frowns at the back of Aizawa’s mussy black hair. He’s hunched over a little, but still taller than Shinsou, with broader shoulders. He clears his throat.

“Again, don’t have volunteers lining up to dance like a monkey, you know?” Shinsou offers, another open-ended statement, and maybe a bit of a test. Aizawa couldn’t erase his quirk with his back turned.

He did sometimes have volunteers, but less dance like a monkey and more, well…fetishistic. Which was great, because he was fucking fifteen and barely thinking about anything like that yet, let alone something so…controlling. Shinsou grimaces to himself.

Aizawa chuckles, “Actually, I do.”

Shinsou doesn’t have a reply to that as they reach his classroom. He gestures to one of the seats but Shinsou doesn’t take it. Aizawa leans against his podium instead, head in his hand regarding him with those tired eyes.

Shinsou takes in the classroom and tastes the little bit of that resentment again. It’s nothing remarkable, looks exactly the same as his own homeroom, but the fact he’s here, so near yet so far, makes his chest clench with anger. He wants to be here so desperately but everything was working again him. It’s not the first time he’s been tempted to try his luck at another school, but distance, cost, and no guarantee he’d succeed there either, kept him here.

As if reading his mind, though it wasn’t hard to read his face Shinsou was sure, Aizawa asks, “Do you still want to be in a hero course?”

Shinsou answers immediately, “More than anything.”

“Hm.” Aizawa looks him up and down, then says, “Even if we did make concessions about your quirk, you’d never pass a physical. Heroes need to have more than one trick, and you’re useless against robots, a natural disaster, and multiple villains at once.”

Shinsou bristled, hands shoving into his pockets and mutters, “Why did you bring me here? This feels an awful lot like you’re rubbing what I can’t have into my nose.”

“I don’t do that. I’m telling you why you’re not here, and what you need to fix if you want a chance of getting in.”

“This school doesn’t care,” Shinsou snaps, “Doesn’t matter how good my quirk is.”

“Which is why you’ll need to work harder,” Aizawa explains, no room for further argument. “It’s not fair, but you need to make yourself irreplaceable. So here’s what we’re going to do. Work with me the next few days. Let me assess where you’re at and how to make you hero-course worthy.”

Shinsou process that slowly. Pieces together that blatant implication. Realizes that Eraserhead isn’t kidding.

“Wait, you…are you joking?” He has to ask, because it’s impossible he means it.

“I don’t joke.”

Shinsou nearly sputters out, “You want to train me?”

Aizawa arches a brow, “Assess, I said. See if you’ve got enough potential. Then yes, if all goes well, I want to train you. I feel our styles would match well, so it’s only logical to pass on what I know to someone who is like me. We need more heroes that don’t rely on self-focused quirks.”

Aizawa explains it practically, matter-of-fact as if there weren’t a million obstacles in the way, a million ways Shinsou could fail--or worse, fail him.

Shinsou swallows hard, “And you think that can be me?”

“Of course,” Aizawa says flatly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Shinsou thinks he might have died. There’s no way his idol, his role-model, the one person who made him believe he could be a hero, was looking at him like this, seeing his potential, his worth, his ability to do good, and decided he was worth the time and energy.

Logistics win out in favor of the shock, or worse, the vain hope that Eraserhead was serious.

“How? You have a class.”

“They’re on internships starting tomorrow.” Aizawa straightens up, fishes out set of paperwork. He hands it over to Shinsou to read. At the top states “Internship Application”. Aizawa keeps talking while he gawks at the form.

“If you’re fine with it, I’ll talk with your teachers and give you a pass on your classes for the next three days. You’ll be entering the hero course late, so you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. First-year internships are among them. So I’ll take you on under my agency, and you intern with me for the next three days. It’s one less thing to worry about, and I get to assess your limitations and potential.”

Shinsou’s jaw has definitely droped, and Aizawa has a lilt of humor in his voice this time when he says, “You’ll catch flies that way.”

Shinsou snaps his jaw shut. He swallows, and asks, finally, the question that’s been burning since Eraserhead first told him he did good at the festival.

“Why?”

Aizawa blinks, “Why?”

“Yeah, why.” Shinsou gains a little more strength, “Why me? Why bother? You have twenty potential heroes in your class. I’m in General, you said yourself I’m weak. I have little hope of getting in without a lot of time and a lot of effort. So why the hell are you bothering?”

Aizawa scoffs, studying him with narrowed eyes that promptly shuts Shinsou up. He should have bitten his tongue. He should have been grateful.

But nothing has ever come easy for Shinsou. There was always another shoe waiting to drop, the bad to every moment of good. No one saw Shinsou’s potential, not to being a hero. People saw him as villainous, terrifying, avoided at all costs. Even those heroes at the sports festival could do nothing against UA’s requirements. So why was Aizawa bothering? What did Aizawa want from him? Nothing came without a cost, Shinsou knew this, and he had to understand before diving too deep into a too-good-to-be-true fantasy.

“You think you’re the first person that had to fight to get here? The first one people called villain?” Aizawa arches a brow, the weight of those words sitting heavy in the room.

Shinsou stares at him with slowly widening eyes, and realizes. Understands.

“You?”

Aizawa sighs and rubs at his eye, the one with the scar and Shinsou wonders about the damage there. “Yeah, me. I was in General first, too. Got a hell of a quirk for a villain too, don’t I? Could screw with All Might himself. The tests were different back then though, I was able to sign away a lot more of the limitations so I could get in. Tests are harder now, which means they’ve become more unfair to those that deserve to be here. So that means we need to bend the rules.”

Shinsou snaps his hanging mouth shut. He should have realized it, but…but the shock is warring with the realization that Aizawa, Eraserhead, understands him. He’d been here beside him, called a villain, fought to be a hero. He wasn’t alone. God, he wasn’t fucking alone.

Shinsou is still swallowing back the vibration in his chest that Eraserhead thinks he deserves to be here when he catches up on what he’s been saying.

God, he refuses to fucking cry.

“You think I can be a hero?” Shinsou asks, and it sounds so stupid, so small, so much like when he’d asked his parents back when things were happy.

Aizawa watches him intensely, and says, “Absolutely. So. See you here tomorrow?”

Shinsou nods vigorously, and Aizawa’s eyes crinkle in the corners with a hidden smile.

“Good. Get rest, you’re in for a long three days.”

Fuck, Shinsou couldn’t wait.

#shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #dadzawa #shinzawa #boku no hero academia #shinso hitoshi #bnha #eraserhead #my writing #bold to think i know what i'm doing #i guess?#I don't know man

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ladylynse · 4 years

Note

So, I've seen you reblogging some random My Hero Academia fanart lately, and I was wondering how much of it you know? Why? Because I'm curious if you have any idea about a possible crossover with Danny Phantom. (it's surprising how well DP can be crossover-ed with basically EVERYTHING and still make sense...)

I have seen the show. I...think?...I’m caught up on the show. I have not read a word of the manga.

For a crossover with DP, I like the idea of Danny falling into their world rather than the other way around; it’s just easier, even if you toss in a time travel/dimension kind of quirk thing gone wrong and rely on Clockwork to get them home again. Me, I’d do this one of two ways, depending on whether or not Danny ever has a chance of going home again. Or, perhaps more accurately, how slim that chance is, because he’d still have a chance.

Option 1: Danny’s stuck in their world. Forever. Or near enough. Because he was trapped in a thermos for years, longer than anyone would expect him to be alive, and his time doesn’t exist, it’s past, it’s gone, because it hasn’t just been a day, it hasn’t just been a month, not even a year, and every human he ever knew and loved is gone. He couldn’t even find his family if he tried. It’s been too long, the world’s changed, and there are these things called quirks now, and he just.... He holds onto the faint hope that Clockwork can get him back home, that Clockwork will agree to let him go back home, that this can just be a few extra days or weeks or whatever lived in his life but otherwise it’s fine and like he was never anywhere else, but the stable portals he knew are gone, he doesn’t know how to find and can’t create the natural ones, and ghosts like Wulf and Cujo wouldn’t even know he was back.

He can’t remember very well how he got into this mess. Maybe Vlad caught him and buried him on the other side of the world; maybe Vlad tossed him into the Ghost Zone, never really expecting Danny to get out. Everything is muddled, confused, coming back in pieces, and not like a moment frozen in time where he gets out and immediately remembers everything. It’s not like it normally is. But maybe it’s because he wasn’t released like he normally is, since he didn’t get out until the thermos degraded to the point that there was a hole he could slip through. Maybe it’s just because he was in there too long. He...he doesn’t know.

Option 2: AKA my old standby for DP crossovers to worlds that aren’t enough like his own, a door or portal in the Ghost Zone. Maybe Danny meant to go through, whether he was exploring or running from something with five sets of teeth that was faster than it had any right to be, or maybe it popped up in front of him and he was through before he could change course. He doesn’t have more hope of getting home in this scenario, exactly, but he’d be more hopeful, because this obviously isn’t the same world, it can’t be, so he can get back and get home and it’ll all be fine.

In both cases, you can ignore the language barrier--write it off as a ghostly ability Danny didn’t realize he had, though that logic fails a bit when Tucker understands Wulf the best, or maybe Danny hearing it for years while in the thermos and just sort of absorbing it--through osmosis, if you like. But if you acknowledge it. If you accept the fact that Danny suddenly finds himself in a world where he can’t speak the language, can’t read or understand or even be sure he recognizes the language--because what is that, Chinese, Japanese, Korean? He has no idea. It might not even be any of those if it’s been how many years since, what with evolution of language. He just knows he doesn’t know the alphabet at all--then you can easily force other characters to interact with him once he gets in trouble (as will happen; it’s Danny) and maybe bring in a convenient universal translator hero support prototype, initially designed to help heroes better communicate with victims who don’t speak the same tongue(s) with plans for further development outside of heroing if it’s successful. Such a device would also give Danny a convenient excuse for when he says something that receives blank stares, as he can pretend it glitched.

Now. Danny will be trying to get home. That might be his entire thing--that and potentially acceptance that he can’t go home, depending on how things pan out. If he came through a portal/doorway, then he might be keeping an ear to the ground to find out why if there’s some reason why he’s here, but if he was just stuck in a thermos, he’s going to assume he got out because of pure dumb luck/erosion and focus most of his energy on finding a way into the Ghost Zone, which may or may not come back to bite him later. Especially if he didn’t just get out by chance or is here for a reason and doesn’t know enough to understand what that reason is.

The obvious thing to consider is how quickly Danny realizes these guys only have one ‘quirk’, even if they can use it in multiple ways. If he gets any inkling at all from them that having more than one quirk is odd and potentially suspicious, you can bet he’d try to hide it. He’s used to that. He’s had to hide from so many people. He can hide from these people, too. Or at least try his best. Me and my penchant for misunderstandings would obviously choose to have him hide his multiple abilities and not just, y’know, tell or show them straight away.

I mean.

Say they saw Phantom before they ever saw Fenton. Flying. Phasing. Shooting ectoblasts. That’s not normal.

And if Danny saw something happen and jumped in to help without entirely understanding the situation? He might try to take down both heroes and bad guys because geez, those people almost got crushed when that building fell, and another bystander nearly got flambéed, and he knows he’s destructive when he’s trying to save people, but still. Giant Lady is a pretty good distraction if you need a distraction, and she could get away from the good guys fast enough, and that guy just walked through a brick wall, so there’s a good chance he’s overshadowed even if Danny’s too far away for his ghost sense to go off, and--

Point is, they (some) might mistakenly peg Phantom as a villain, at least until the next fight where they have time to talk. Danny, who very definitely Not Going Ghost until he figures out what the heck is going on, is found in the aftermath and assumed to be a victim--a tourist, probably, since they can’t understand him and he can’t understand them--and probably picks an ability to call a ‘quirk’ even if pretending to be quirkless would be smarter because he’s not convinced he might not do something almost on instinct, and then where would that get him?

Danny does not overhear the speculation that perhaps this Phantom is after him. He does not overhear the concern of the UA students who witnessed the fight. He does not know how many strings were pulled to get him released from the hospital--where he Very Obviously does Not want to be, but he can write off weird abnormalities as, say, part of his Ice Quirk powers; after all, sneaking away probably won’t do him any favours, even if he has to get out of there before they realize exactly how fast he’s healing--or how difficult it was to get him released into the protective custody of the good people at UA (or, more specifically, those who rallied for him to get the opportunity). Because he’s wary and spooked and confused but still ready to fight, and they can see that, and they want to help him. They’re not even sure how much training he’s had with his quirk, since even after extensive questioning and a subsequent exhaustive search, they can’t find any record of a hero named Frostbite.

They can’t even find a record of Daniel Fenton. Not someone with an Ice Quirk who matches his description, anyway.

Which makes some people wary, even when others are eagerly including him, because what if he’s a plant, a spy, otherwise not on their side even if he’s not working with any known villains, and--

Hogwash. Poppycock. Pick your old-fashioned word for it, but that’s pretty much how your thinking is going, someone else would say. Because the kid’s got a good heart, and anyone can see that. He wants to help people. He does, even when it hurts him. He’s got the heart of a hero.

With what they’ve seen of him, it’s enough to quiet the mutterings.

Until the day Danny forgets himself and displays another Quirk in a way that can’t be explained, especially in light of all the other incidents that were.

(related - Dani)

#danny phantom #bnha #my hero academia #danny fenton #ladylynse #musings #fic ideas #asks #azthedragon

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simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

The Villain -- Ch. 8: Coming Clean

A/N: the fact that I started this in 2018… I’M SO READY TO FINALLY FINISH THIS SHITTY STORY SO I'M SORRY IF THIS IS ACTUAL GARBAGE, I'M JUST DONE WITH THIS LMAO

Pairing: villain!bakugou x female!reader

Warnings: swearing; a little steamy 👀

Word Count: 3,539

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

LINKS TO NEW CHAPTERS

✐posted 06.03.2020✐

Bakugou kicked open the door to the Kamino Ward, feeling absolutely enraged with his fists clenched at his sides. “Where are you, Warp Gate fucker?!”

Kurogiri felt himself flinch behind the bar as Bakugou trudged inside the building, slamming his palms down onto the table. Even he felt himself shudder under the piercing gaze of his vermillion eyes, shifting in place in discomfort.

“What is it, Ground Zero?” Kurogiri asked.

“What the fuck did you do to the Comission Center? I didn’t give you any orders to pull that shit,” Bakugou grunted, feeling his palms sweat as little sparks erupted from his palms subconsciously.

Kurogiri looked back at Bakugou plainly. “With all due respect, Ground Zero, I don’t think what you’ve been doing has been benefiting the League of Villains. In addition…”

Kurogiri paused looking up to meet Bakugou’s gaze. “It seems to me that you have personal feelings for (H/N), which is what is holding you back. And frankly, I do not support this as our cause is completely different from those heroes.”

Bakugou laughed humorlessly, not believing a single word he was hearing. “Alright, let’s say you don’t trust me, which I don’t give a fuck about because I’m the leader for a reason. But who the fuck was with you ‘cause there no way in hell you’d be able to cause that much damage with that shitty quirk of yours.”

Kurogiri sighed. “The second person in question was a fake. There was no one else there. I used explosives to cause the damage to the area. Those heroes misread what they saw and relayed the information incorrectly. We must increase the pace in which we’re taking to finalize our goal: destroy every single hero there is.”

Bakugou scoffed, nodding along to his story. He didn’t believe what he was saying, realizing that Kurogiri was most likely covering for the person most likely behind all of this. Nevertheless, Bakugou was willing to put up with Kurogiri’s antics… for now.

“Alright… I’ll let it go for now, but next time tell me first before you do some dumb shit like this,” Bakugou said curtly, pushing back and moving towards the exit. He stopped in his tracks, looking back at Kurogiri in annoyance. “And I don’t like that shitty girl either so get that thought out of your fucking ass!”

***

“Are the reporters all out there?” You asked, wanting to peek behind the curtain in the conference hall.

Tsubaki, the one who called you immediately following the incident at the Hero Public Safety Commission Center, peeked through the curtain gasping at the sight. “There’s so many of them out there!”

You sighed, your heart feeling heavy due to the large amount of people in one room awaiting for Natsuya’s speech as well as the reason for the press conference. Although you were never close to him, you felt awful about what had happened to Hawks as he was a major hero when you were still a teenager in U.A.

“I’m surprised Yamashita got so many people here at once in such a short amount of time!” Tsubaki exclaimed.

You nodded in agreement. “I mean, what else would you expect from the Chief of Police?”

Natsuya emerged from the conference room where other officers, the head of the Hero Commission Center, and other officials followed. Natsuya shot you a small smile, his nerves skyrocketing as he was instructed to go out onto the small stage placed in front of all of the reporters. The curtain pulled back and flashes of cameras glowed in the room as the reporters rapidly took pictures.

Natsuya took a deep breath, standing in front of the podium as he was chosen to deliver the news to everyone. You stayed behind the curtain with Tsubaki and other heroes who attended.

“The events that took place yesterday were horrific and outright evil. We have confirmed that the villain Kurogiri and an unidentified second villain were the ones responsible for this atrocity. We have also confirmed that villains Dabi and Ground Zero were nowhere to be seen during these events, therefore are not responsible. Nevertheless, the League of Villains are still held accountable for this, and will be held accountable for the health damage that hero Hawks faced. The hospital also confirms that Hawks had his quirk taken away from him through the Quirk-Destroying Drug that hadn’t been used for years since Shigaraki was the original leader of the League of Villains.” Natsuya continued to relay crucial information to the crowd as they typed vigorously, trying to keep up with him as he spoke.

“What do you plan on doing, (H/N)?” Tsubaki asked you, half-listening to Natsuya and half-anticipating what you were going to say.

“If it wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now,” you stated. “We have to take down the League, no matter who stands in our way.”

***

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Natsuya’s concerned voice came through the speakers of your car as you drove down the highway.

“Stop worrying about be, Tsuya, you’re going to burst a blood vessel,” you joked. “I’m just visiting home. Things are getting suffocating so I just need a breather.”

“Alright, let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Natsuya said, causing a smile to tease at your lips.

“I know I can rely on you for anything. I’ll talk to you later.” You ended the call, parking your car in front of your childhood home. Exiting your vehicle, you stood in front of your house where your father still resided, hesitant to enter. Your fingers curled into fists, deciding to not go in anyways and you made your way towards the opposite direction of the street.

Since your mother’s passing, your father had been adamant about his disapproval of your passion and profession. No matter how many honorary medals or titles you earned, your father never approved of anything. By the time you had officially become a pro, having just graduated from U.A., your father vowed to never speak to you again. It had been years since you’d spoken to him and you were nervous to encounter him again despite how many times Natsuya, who still was in contact with him, pushed you to make the first move. But you simply couldn’t.

You didn’t know where you were going, your feet taking you down the trail. Your old neighborhood was quiet and pleasant, trees, flowers, and bushes littered almost everywhere. That was why it felt like second nature for you to walk to the old park by your home, one that you and the rest of your friends from U.A. would spend time after school. But once you had finally reached the park, you felt heartbroken at the sight.

The previously lively park with acres of land and trees had been ripped apart, now a construction site with heaps of trash littering the area. It had been too long since you had last been here so you knew things would be different. Nevertheless, you hopped over the fence that stood in front of the site to keep away trespassers. You didn’t care about the consequences at the moment, wanting to sit somewhere, not caring where it was so long as you were able to clear your head somehow.

There were numerous cranes and other machines and equipment scattered across the yard. Having picked a random one, you used your quirk to push yourself atop an excavator. A deep sigh escaped from your lips as you looked out into the horizon. You could see your house from here and even some of your friends’ old homes. You stared particularly at the biggest house in the area, the Bakugou house, that was now empty. After Bakugou had turned to the League, his mother and father left the city and no one knew where they resided now. It seemed wherever Bakugou went, he brought pain and misery along with him.

“The hell?!” A certain gruff voice exclaimed from beside you. You looked to the left, eyes widening at the sight of Bakugou staring back at you with a similar expression. He was lying on the ginormous machine. You hadn’t noticed him as the space was so large and your mind was racing at a thousand miles per minute that you couldn’t even acknowledge his existence.

Before you could open your mouth to utter even a word, Bakugou was quick to jump down from the machine, avoiding you at all costs. But you were even quicker to create a gravel barrier between him and the fence using your quirk, trapping him in the space. Bakugou cursed under his breath as he was too flustered to react quick enough. You created an elevator-like step underneath Bakugou’s feet, maneuvering him back up the excavator. He didn’t utter a word nor did he attempt to flee this time, staring at you silently as he stepped back onto the machine.

You were surprised, looking at him curiously. “You’re not going to try to run, Katsuki?”

Bakugou sighed, plopping back down onto the metal surface, criss-crossing his legs. He scoffed, avoiding your gaze. “And you’re not gonna arrest me, hero?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your legs to your chest. You wrapped your arms around them, leaning your head on your knees. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. And what about you, villain, you’re not going to wreak havoc on a city?”

Bakugou smirked at your wit, shrugging. “You’re not the only one with a lot on their mind.”

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time all day. You were tired, absolutely exhausted. It seemed like you were battling the whole world at times, especially with the best pro heroes being targeted now. What happened to Hawks made you feel unsettled, like the League was going after specific heroes. It didn’t seem right that just as Hawks had advised for you to back down from any League related business, he was permanently out of commission. And it made you feel disquieted as the fear that Bakugou was behind this attack was in the back of your mind, no matter if he was there at the site of the attack physically or not. It made you feel like you couldn’t continue fighting for his innocence and you had to hold him accountable now.

“Were you the one behind the attack at the Hero Commission Center?” You asked bluntly, astounding Bakugou with your straightforwardness.

“Tch, as if I would be behind the attack that hurt my fucking boss.” The words echoed through your head, despite Bakugou mumbling it in an attempt to not let you catch on. But you heard every word, the words that you were waiting to hear for years.

“What? Your boss?” You repeated in shock.

Bakugou’s vermillion eyes flitted over to you, shining brightly against the beam of the setting sun. “You heard me. Hawks is my boss.”

He chuckled humorlessly at your bewildered expression, your lips parted as you attempted to find the right words to say and your eyes like the shape of saucers. “Got nothin’ to say? It’s what you’ve been waiting for all this time.”

“You’re an idiot,” you grunted, angered to no end. Bakugou looked at you, confused beyond words.

“What?” He knew one day he would have to come clean to you, the one person who saw through his act. He anticipated tears, confusion, shock, and happiness. But you were reacting in a way he had not expected.

“It’s about time you came clean!” You exclaimed, your voice echoing through the streets.

Bakugou closed the space between the two of you, clamping a calloused hand over your lips. “Be quiet! You’re gonna let the whole world fucking hear!”

You shook his hand from your face, turning your body to face him completely. Crossing your hands over your chest, you glared right at him. “Tell me, tell me everything.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, looking off into the distance and avoiding your gaze once more. “There’s nothing to it really. Hawks and the Hero Commission Center came to me right after the Kamino Incident to act as a double agent. Those shitheads still want me working for them to find the real leader behind the League but I’ve got no clue right fucking now.”

He glanced over at you, and although he would never admit it, he felt slightly intimidated under your glaring stare. “What? That’s everything, I mean it.”

“So you have nothing to do with the League, right?” You clarified, wanting to make sure that Bakugou was innocent. “You never hurt a single person, right? All those people are telling lies, right? You didn’t kill Shigaraki?” You were referring to all the people who were witnesses and victims under Bakugou’s supposed kidnapping.

“Can’t say I’m completely innocent. I’ve definitely hurt people, punched a civilian or two to make sure my act was solid and believable. But I didn’t kidnap or kill anyone.” Bakugou felt slightly relieved once your stare faltered a little. “All I know is the real leader is acting like me and putting up with my act. Seems like whoever it is, they want me to take all the heat and blame for now. And that person’s the one who killed ole crusty face, not me. I was just the one who found his body and was blamed for it.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You had dreamed of this day, the day where everything would make sense and you would understand Bakugou’s actions. But here you were, utterly confused beyond belief. “Why would the real leader go along with your act? How is it benefitting them?”

“My guess is that it’s probably someone on the other side. A hero, officer, someone in the commission center? One of those fuckers has to be fooling all of us and running this shit on the sidelines.” Bakugou paused momentarily, looking ahead. “With me around, that asshole can put the blame all on me while working with that Warp Gate fucker. But I’m close, I know that for sure. Soon enough I'll be allowed to finally be free and not have to worry about living this fucked up life anymore.”

You continued to look at him, smiling at the sight of the ends of his lips curling upwards a little. You had missed that smile. “And what do you plan to do? Once you’re free and don’t have to follow anymore orders?”

Bakugou shrugged, running a hand through the ash blonde spikes on his head. “Do whatever the fuck I want. Can’t be a hero, that’s out of the question. I’ll worry about that when I’m free.”

You smiled and nodded, a weight lifting off your shoulders. You felt a surge of relief run through your veins, a feeling you could never describe into words. You felt proud for believing in him all this time, believing that he was innocent. And you missed him, missed your dear friend from childhood.

“It must’ve been lonely… dealing with this and losing your adolescence,” you muttered, looking away from Bakugou and looking down at the horizon where the sun had painted the sky with orange and pink hues. Bakugou looked over at you, startled by your statement. There you were, not blaming him for anything, not for the lies or the deception. Instead you were selflessly worrying about him and the time that was taken from him living his life.

“Calling me an idiot… you’re the real idiot here,” Bakugou grumbled, narrowing his eyes at you.

You looked over at him, confused by his words. “What?”

Bakugou stood up, taking a few steps towards you, and kneeling down in front of you. His face was inches from yours, alarming you from his quick movements. He stared into your (E/C) eyes for a moment, sighing again and looking down at your feet. “I was told that all I had to do was keep this act up and soon I’d be done. But now Hawks is outta the picture and I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t do this alone, I need help. That asshole behind this is probably gonna pull another one on me and then I’ll be helpless. My head’s all fucked up right now.”

“And as if my head isn’t already fucked from all this villain-hero shit goin’ on…” Bakugou swiftly pushed you back down onto the cool metal surface of the excavator, his body hovering over yours and his hands pinning yours on either side of your head. His legs straddled your body down as his scarlet eyes pierced right through yours. A whimper escaped your lips as your cheeks heated up from the proximity of your bodies. Bakugou stared down at you, his face twisted in dubiety. “You’re makin’ it worse, driving me fucking insane. You’re the only one who’s ever believed in me, and you’re driving me insane. You’re making me fucking fall for you.”

The world felt still in that moment and you didn’t even feel the breeze drift off in the air. All you could was the intimidating stare Bakugou had on you, sending shivers down your spine and his touch sending electricity down your veins. “What are you-?”

Before you could finish your question, Bakugou closed the gap between your head and his, slamming his lips on yours. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed his lips roughly against yours. He lowered his body on you, hips grinding into you. You pried your hands free from his hold, one hand clutching his blonde locks while the other gripped onto the nape of his neck, wanting him closer to you. You felt hot and bothered, bothered at how turned on you were by this whole situation.

Bakugou’s lips were warm and soft against yours, moving in a rhythm you were having difficulty keeping up with. He made your body feel a way that you had never felt before as you felt hot yet cold at the same time. You were gasping for air, moans escaping your lips as you could barely keep up with his body grinding against you. You had never felt this way, no one made you feel this way, not even Natsuya.

That was when yours hands went down to Bakugou’s shoulders, pushing him back up and his face away from you. Bakugou stared down at you, angered that you had cut this moment short as you both attempted to catch your breaths and come down from the high you were on.

“Natsuya…” You uttered simply, causing Bakugou to scoff harder than he ever had. He didn’t care for your police boyfriend, never really caring for him even when you were teenagers.

“Forget it,” Bakugou grunted, standing to his feet and jumping down to the ground.

“Katsuki, wait!” You called out, sitting up and looking down. But you were too late, he was already gone.

***

You kicked a loose piece of gravel on the path, your hand shoved in your pocket as you made your way down the cemetery. Your other hand went up to touch your lips as the images of Bakugou’s body atop of your own made you feel both flustered and guilty. You cared for Natsuya so much as he was your closest friend and you had just quite literally cheated on him. But he never made you feel the way Bakugou did when he was around you. Nevertheless, it didn’t excuse your actions and you knew you had to make it right once you got back.

But now you stood in front of the main reason why you even visited your hometown: to see your mother.

You knelt in front of her tombstone, clapping your hands together and bowing your head. “It’s been a while, Mom. I’m sorry I haven’t visited.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you sat your rear down in front of her grave, staring at the engraving of her name. “I don’t know what to do, Mom, I feel so conflicted. I’ve been waiting for this moment, waiting to find out about Katsuki’s innocence. And now I know about it, and I think he was indirectly asking me for help. But he… asked me in such an odd way, like he had been waiting a long time to do… that.”

Your hand rose and pressed against the cool stone, your finger tracing the engraving. “I want to help him. I want to be there for him while also doing my job. What do I do, Mom?”

You sat there for a few minutes, as if you were waiting to hear a response. You chuckled, shaking your head at yourself. What am I even doing?

You rose to your feet, making your way back to your car until a blunt object hit the back of your head, causing your body to crash into the dirt. Your head was throbbing and you felt the object hit the same spot again, a scream erupting from you in pain as you attempted to take a look at the perpetrator.

A man laughed. “You couldn’t just keep your nose outta this one, huh, hero?”

And just like that, the world went black.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies @bokunoheroes-stories @iamthe-leaf @simplysymphonic @mylittlesunshineblog @imyourliquor-youremypoison @sunflowerchild27 @geesshoku @ghoularaki @katsukiwonu @kotakingly @tyongflight @sparkexplosive @minniepresents @thorohdamnson

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #katsukibakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #katsuki #kacchan

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florencecastlewritings · 4 years

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Writing Dialogue

Below the read more is a lesson on writing effective dialogue in fiction. As with everything in art, rules are there to be broken, so please do treat the below lesson as a guideline rather than a legal document, and remember that it is based on what works for me as well as advice I have received from other writers. It might not match your style, and that’s all right. It’s also a very lengthy blog post, but I have used headings to try and break it up and there’s a little contents of sorts at the start, so feel free to skim/skip where needed.

If you do find it useful, however, please consider helping me through a tricky time by sending a few pennies my way via ko-fi.

Dialogue is the written speech of your characters in your story. For some people, writing effective dialogue comes naturally, for others it feels almost impossible to master. It is worth considering, as well, the differences in dialogue for different kinds of media - in screenwriting, for example, a writer will be able to rely more heavily on actors’ expression, comic timing, body language and other effects such as music. However they will also be constrained by shorter time, more need for unnatural exposition, and lack of internal thoughts. The following lesson will focus on dialogue in fiction - for short stories or novels - although some rules will be applicable to dialogue in other mediums too, so they’re worth keeping in mind.

The Purpose of Dialogue

Dialogue should:

Progress the story

Deepen character and relationship

Have realism

Be embellished/supported with suitable dialogue tags and appropriate narration.

Easier said than done. Let’s take them one at a time.

Progress the story

As with most writing, the writer needs to be constantly asking herself ‘what is the point?’ Why am I having my characters say/do/notice this? It may be to deepen character and relationship (and we’ll get onto that), but for longer stories we must acknowledge that the dialogue needs to move the plot along as well, as much as we might want to indulge in a bit of pointless fluff now and then.

Dialogue can drive the plot in a more engaging and exciting way than plain narration. Narration on its own can be effective at building tension, but usually only in small doses, and having many pages of narration without dialogue or internal thought will feel more like a summary of events or a witness statement than the author would perhaps like. Consider the below:

Breakfast was tense that morning. They ate silently as they pondered what to do. Michael buttering his toast so aggressively that it was surprising that the knife didn’t go through it. Susan asked him to stop, but that only started the arguing again. He accused her of expecting him to get over the affair so quickly. She threw back that there was nothing left to say if he refused to get therapy, and she had warned him for years that things had to change, and that it had been one foolish night in twenty years of unhappy marriage. She, Susan insisted, had excused plenty of foolish mistakes on his part.

Compared to:

‘Will you stop that?’ she said sharply. Michael did not pause in the furious buttering of his toast. ‘I said I was sorry.’

‘What, you say the magic word and I’m meant to shrug it off?’ he replied. ‘Pretend it never happened? Pretend you didn’t-’

‘You’ve made your anger perfectly clear, and I understand, but you don’t need to be so aggressive with everything, I get it.’

‘Oh, here we go. Buttering toast is aggressive now.’

‘Well, yes, like that - I’ve tried to talk to you like a grown up, but-’

‘It really bloody winds me up when you just say insane stuff patiently and without emotion and think that makes it acceptable, d’you know that? I’m allowed to be angry, you cheated.’

I could continue. The first example can pack a lot more information in, but using dialogue to drive the plot makes for more interesting and deeper meaning. It turns it into a story, rather than an account of events that occurred. It allows the writer to layer the plot with character work and unlock the story a little at a time.

In this regard, it is good to have your characters talking. To each other, to themselves, to the reader - whatever your particular style demands. Having that personable voice is engaging.

There are a few “rules” to keep in mind in order to ensure you remain plot-focused with your dialogue:

Avoid small talk. Enter late, leave early. Naturally there are exceptions (if you want to emphasise the awkwardness of a relationship between two characters you might want to include some failed attempts at small talk), but the usual chit-chat and extended greetings that we are used to saying in every day life can normally be skipped or avoided. You don’t need to have lots of ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I’m fine thanks, you?’ ‘Fine, cheers. Have you seen the rain?’ Your characters are allowed to just get to the point and your reader will thank you for it.

Have characters on their own thought trajectories. This is a great way of driving the plot, and though it can be tricky to master it can really help in making your characters believable individuals as well as creating some conflict. If characters know each other, or both know the topic, they will likely jump ahead, make assumptions, fail to answer each other directly - this can be a great way of showing that they’re on the same wavelength, but can also be a vehicle for miscommunications and misunderstandings, or deliberately misleading one another. In that vein, don’t have the characters telling each other things they already know, unless made to sound believable.

Similarly, don’t have characters say things solely for the benefit of the reader. This is called exposition, and while exposition is necessary, it can be clumsily handled in dialogue. It’s made fun of frequently in films where they have such limited time to get background information across. You definitely don’t want dialogue like ‘So, Michael, it’s been three years since your divorce, have you thought about dating again?’ Michael knows this, his insensitive friend knows this, the reader is not stupid and knows that it’s not natural sounding. If it must be said in dialogue, weave it into a more natural conversation - ‘I haven’t been to Ibiza in three years, and I don’t plan on going back any time soon. Don’t want to run the risk of bumping into Susan and Jorge.’

We’ll get onto weaving it in with narration and dialogue tags later, which makes that a lot easier, but, in short, use dialogue to drive your story.

Deepen character and relationship

This is my favourite thing to do, and why I often prefer to write shorter stories than longer ones. A writer can find great joy in bringing a character to life through dialogue, dragging them away from plot vehicles and making them people of their own.

Firstly, it’s important to remember that your character’s background and personality will affect the way that they speak. If all your characters sound the same, they probably sound like you! A well educated character will obviously have a different way of talking than a common street urchin, but everyone has quirks and patterns to their speech that you can use to say a lot. You might use long meandering sentences with lots of rhetorical questions for a character known to be boring, for example. You might use short, sharp sentences for a character that’s grumpy or distracted with some deeper internal struggle. You can use the way two characters talk to each other to say a lot about their relationship and power dynamic, especially if you remember that good dialogue should have subtext (what isn’t being said being important).

A good example of this is from the short story Hills Like White Elephants, by Ernest Hemmingway (CW; indirect discussion of abortion). Consider the short passage below.

‘It’s really an awfully simple operation, Jig,’ the man said. ‘It’s not really an operation at all.

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.

‘I know you wouldn’t mind it, Jig. It’s not really anything. It’s just to let the air in.’

The girl did not say anything.

‘I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural.’

‘Then what will we do afterward?’

‘We’ll be fine afterward. Just like we were before.’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.’

The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads. ‘And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.’

It’s a really interesting story that is almost entirely dialogue, so it’s well worth reading to get a good sense of using subtext. I wasn’t aware of the abortion connotations when I first read it because I hadn’t heard of the very dated term ‘letting the air in’, but really the story is great at demonstrating the uneven power dynamic between the two even without knowledge of what the operation is. Without much description (though ‘man’ and ‘girl’ says it all really, doesn’t it?), you get a sense that a much older man is persuading this reluctant girl into this act by leveraging how hopelessly in love she is with him, though he does not seem to feel the same way. He speaks most when he is trying to persuade her - the rest of the time he is snappish and short with her childish and ignorant questions about the world around them. The above passage is the only time in the story where he refers to her by a name, and we can gather that it’s a pet one. The girl’s silence says as much as her dialogue, and when she does speak it is questioning - looking to him for authority.

Understanding character motivations and background is what makes this masterful use of dialogue. It would be tempting, for a novice writer, to have the girl argue. For her to say something like ‘what if we could be happy without it?’ But where that should be, there is silence, or repeating his thoughts back to him - because Hemmingway is not only driving the story but emphasising the imbalance of their relationship and her own naive nature. She would not argue with him, she can only wish that he will change his mind. This is all through dialogue and a tiny bit of narration, barely any dialogue tags, and really says so much without saying it at all. Show vs tell is about more than description after all.

That kind of depth when it comes to writing dialogue is... really hard. I haven’t picked Hemmingway to suggest that this is the quality all writing should be at, and I certainly don’t mean to intimidate anyone. But it really is a golden example of thinking about your dialogue within the context of the character, and how their background, situation, and goals will affect how they respond and react to those around them. Your character may not always be able to say what is convenient for you, the author, to tell the reader, because it may not be in their nature or sound authentic. But there are clever ways around that and it can make for more powerful writing, between the lines of what is said.

Have realism

If you skipped down to this bit, I understand. It’s the area that people most often struggle with. I find that people tend to fall into two traps here - either their characters sound like robots because they are over formal and have too much emphasis on being grammatically correct or over eloquent at the expense of natural dialogue, OR they swing in the other direction and try to replicate perfectly how people speak in day to day life.

If you do have a problem with stilted dialogue, it is a good idea to listen to how people naturally speak and try typing it out to get yourself out of the habit. But on the whole, the way people normally speak actually doesn’t sound that great in written format. In real life, we use lots of filler words, we get muddled, we go off on tangents, we trail off, we stutter and stammer and phrase things badly, we um and ah and say far more with our body language and expression than we realise. If you ever read transcripts, from interviews or courts, you’ll see how much of it actually doesn’t make a lot of sense. Our brains make sense of it when we listen to others, based on other parts of communication. Yes, sometimes adding in a ‘er...’ is beneficial and good, and you might have a really nice character moment of someone anxious trailing off when they realise no one is listening to them. Sprinkling those moments in can absolutely make your dialogue sound more authentic, especially when carefully used with character knowledge, but be careful not to over use it. In written dialogue, our characters can and should be more articulate and quicker to formulate their thoughts than in real life for the sake of the story. Striking that balance between overly structured and too real and easy can be really hard, but it only comes with practice - reading dialogue out loud can be a big help, as can writing the dialogue first with no narration or speech tags (more on that later).

Some common mistakes when it comes to dialogue:

Having one character speak too long without a break. Monologues are tough to get through as a reader and don’t come up often in real life in any meaningful way. They can end up cheesy or exposition heavy. Occasionally you can get away with it with very particular characters, but in general, avoid.

Over use of names. It’s really distracting as a reader if dialogue is constantly like, ‘what do you think, Harry?’ ‘Charlie, I just don’t know.’ ‘Really, Harry, you need to decide if you’re going to marry her or not.’ ‘I know, you’re right, Charlie.’ Use names to get someone’s attention and then don’t use them again unless you need to make it clear to the reader who the character is talking to.

Not using contractions. Even very formal people use contractions such as don’t and won’t, it is part of natural rapid speech. Save the ‘do not’ and ‘will not’s for when the emphasis is really needed.

Having characters speak in unison. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes this can be used to hilarious effect and can always be used for a bit of comedy. But on the whole people don’t do this, including twins.

Misuse of slang or dialects. If you’re going to use it, make sure you do your research. It’s also worth bearing in mind that if you over use it, it will be hard for the reader to understand and may break immersion.

Over explain for the reader. I mentioned this before but it’s worth repeating. If you went outside right now and saw a UFO, you would probably shout something along the lines of ‘wtf is that?’, and you would perhaps point or scramble for your potato to take a shaky video. You would probably not shout, ‘look at flying saucer! I’ve never seen anything like it!’ Think carefully about realistic reactions, even if they are not particularly convenient to you as a writer.

Over use of exclamation marks/caps lock. People aren’t that vibrant and it’s tiring to read. The less you use it, the more punch it packs.

Using narration and dialogue tags

First, a quick grammar lesson. Sorry.

‘This is some speech.’

‘This is also some speech,’ said the character.

‘Is this also speech?’ asked another.

‘Well,’ said the first, ‘yes.’

‘Brilliant,’ said the other. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’

I use single quotation marks because I’m British and annoying, the conventional double quote marks the Americans use (”like this!”) is also correct. The only important thing is that you pick one and stick to it. Quotation marks always surround the words that are being spoken aloud, and must be opened and closed. Where the sentence ends, you must use a full stop (period), or another piece of punctuation like a question or exclamation mark before closing the speech with the marks.

Where there is a dialogue tag (he said/said/replied, etc), the sentence is continuing, so a comma is more appropriate (but you can also use a question/exclamation mark and the sentence still continues), and again this must go before the speech marks close the dialogue. If you want to continue the sentence with the dialogue tag in the middle, you can continue by using another comma, or you can end the sentence with a full stop and continue the dialogue as a new sentence.

Use a new line for a new character speaking.

Phew, that’s over so you can pay attention again. But unfortunately I still have more to say.

Here is a fun little exercise. Take the below dialogue between two characters, A and B.

‘Do you love me?’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

‘Sit down. I’ll make you a tea.’

‘I don’t want tea, I want an answer! Tell me!’

The dialogue alone already tells us a bit of a story - a picture is probably already forming in your head, perhaps of the characters, perhaps of the setting. As it stands it’s ok, and if you struggle with dialogue it can be effective to write only the dialogue out in this way (this tip from my writing teacher also helped me cut down on purple prose!). But now look at the scene:

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that Alex was woken at 3am by repeated bangs on the floor and shouts through the letterbox. Nothing else would have made her rise from bed. If she had suspected even for a moment that it was anyone else, she would have called the police.

But as usual, it was Sam. Blonde, tousled hair a mess, eye make up smudged, pouting lips trembling as she swayed.

‘Do you love me?’

‘You’re drunk,’ said Alex, wincing as Sam’s grey eyes shone with tears. ‘You’d better come in.’

‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

Alex ignored her, pulled her in by her slender arm. ‘Sit down. I’ll make you a tea.’

‘I don’t want tea. I want an answer. Tell me!’ Sam’s voice was loud and high, and it pierced her.

So, we haven’t actually added that much narration or dialogue tags (t’s best, if you can, to avoid using them too much), but we’re able to give a clearer picture of these two characters. You may even now be reading the dialogue in a different tone to the one you originally did - picturing the scene with a different feel. Not convinced? How about now?

Yet again, as had happened dozens of bloody times before, Alex was woken at 3am by incoherent, slurred shouting through the letterbox.

‘Do you love me?’ was Sam’s immediate demand as Alex wearily opened the door.

Alex rubbed her hand over her bleary eyes and sighed. ‘You’re drunk. You’d better come in.’

Sam turned on the tears at once, mascara running in thick, spidery lines down her blotchy cheeks. ‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

‘Sit down,’ Alex muttered. ‘I’ll make you a tea.’ She stood aside and jerked her head towards the living room.

‘I don’t want tea, I want an answer! Tell me!’

Wincing once more at her piercing shriek, Alex closed her eyes.

The very same dialogue can be shaped by carefully worded narration and dialogue tags. It’s a fun exercise to do with writing buddies - all use the same dialogue and see how different the stories come out. It can also be a pretty nifty way to challenge writers block or shake up a scene you’re struggling with.

Some extra tips from my writing teacher - I fully confess that I am not always the best at following these ones, because my writing has been heavily influenced by JK Rowling who also doesn’t seem to set much store by them. But they are good, and since I’ve kept them in mind my writing has improved.

Avoid overuse of adverbs (’she said nervously’). Use action or dialogue alone to convey this information instead.

Avoid overuse of verbs besides ‘said’. The reader will skim over said and barely notice it, if every character is whispering and muttering and shouting all the time it stilts the flow of the scene - use sparingly.

Use tags when necessary to ensure clarity as to who is speaking, otherwise let the dialogue stand for itself.

Use internal thoughts in place of speech tags sometimes.

Use action beats (’he turned to stare coldly out of the window’) in place of speech tags sometimes to help set the pace of the scene.

I hope this very lengthy post has helped! Please do get in touch if you have any further questions or would like any elaborations on anything I’ve mentioned here, or if you have suggestions for future lessons!

Lastly, I hate to do this but times must - if you have even just a couple of quid to send my way it would be a massive help to me. If you did find this useful, please consider donating to my kofi.

#Writing advice #writing lessons #writing dialogue

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my-headcanons-academia · 3 years

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Uraraka friends + friendship hc

• Uraraka isn't "The popular girl" but everyone knows her and she knows everyone because she's soft, comforting and friendly. Also just a people-pleasing extrovert who charges by helping others. I wouldn't be surprised if she knew villains, realises it's them mid-fight and stops everything to talk them down from whatever crime they're doing. And even scarier, the villains listen. • She flirts with her friends endlessly but in a really vanilla way since it's all in good fun and it stays within boundaries, if they flirt back she will get very blushy and her forever-pink cheeks go red, but she doesn't stop, she just ups it while her whole face is blushing until she runs out of things to say and ends up shakily blowing a kiss and winking as she's processing all the nice things said.

• After the Sports Festival she asked Bakugou to spar. She wants to get better and she sees him as a goal, if she can solidly beat him in a fight then she can definitely know she's improved.

And I can easily imagine Bakugou agreeing, he wants to get better too and he respects others wanting to get better too. What he did not expect was she was learning to fight with knives and how stubborn she really is.

Well, he knew she was stubborn at the sports festival, if she could still move, even just barely, then she can still fight. He respects that even more. Both of these bitches need to learn to not push past their limits.

They goad each other so much. Uraraka can be mean when she wants to, saying things that probably aren't true but she knows she'll get a reaction out of it. She is terrified as she says it, but she knows this is what makes it challenging and the challenge is what she's here for. But usually she just says stuff like,

"How did I lose to you before? If you fight like this you have no chance of surpassing even Mineta,"

He is the only one who has seen her swear and no one believes him. It pisses him off exponentially.

• Her love language is quality time but also gift-giving which sucks because she is very poor. She actually becomes friends with Hatsune Mei from the support class as they both like to come up with creative and tailored ways to help individual people and come up with stuff they like!

After they become friends, Mei's latest inventions always have a hint of Uraraka in them, be they pink, somehow more adventurous than anything Mei could come up with on her own, or suspiciously some glitter thrown here and there.

When Mei is building stuff, Uraraka just sits there and listens to her ramble and work, she paints little hello kitty faces on desks, machines and even screws, it's basically her trademark.

• She has multiple alarms on her phone. As well as Iida's "good morning" messages at 5AM, she has alarms for 7am. 7:01am, 7:02am, 7:03am, 7:04am, 7:05am, 7:0- curse living far away so she has to take the train, or she'd be able to sleep in longer. but she always lets Iida know she does appreciate the sentiment. • She absolutely steals from the school cafeteria. Have you seen all that fancy expensive food? She won't steal much, just what she needs and it's the extra food that no one misses. Either she makes a deal with the chef about letting her have some leftovers or the chef would have no idea she's doing it. Even if they noticed some food missing, who's really going to suspect the cute pink bubbly friend-shaped Uraraka? Anyone else who's poor. That's who.

• She's not the mum friend, she's the aunt friend who will make sure everyone is safe and sound before doing something questionably illegal but since it's questionable she can plead ignorance.

• She and Iida get on very well despite being very different. They're both very nice, stubborn, emotional and passionate people yes, but Iida has no idea what the hell she is saying when she quotes memes. She's poor and a teenager, of course she goes to the internet for serotonin

"Uraraka I do not recall locating the barbeque condiment on your chest, what do you mean?"

"who is 'Deez' do I know them? You talk a lot about their nut collection, which is it almonds? peanut?"

"URARAKA THROWING ME THE PRINTER WHEN I ASKED FOR MY LOCKER KEYS IS RECKLESS AND DANGEROUS."

Poor boy went out "on the town" with her and they stopped at Mcdonalds, he looked completely out of place he had no idea what was happening, he just kept looking to Uraraka for guidance why there was a plastic figurine of a character from a recent movie among his food items. • She snorts when she laughs and she used to be really embarrassed by it but one day Mina and Tsuyu heard it while they were hanging out in her room and they found it so adorable they kept making her laugh to try to hear it again. She snorts more now, everyone is happy with this development.

• She has made plans before to mug Iida. In a friendly way of course. She would mug Momo but Momo loves gift giving and gives Uraraka pretty much anything she asks for anyways Momo is called "Sugar-Mommy in Uraraka's contacts. She was planning to mug Shouto before he joined the dekusquad and she found out he has a piece of shit dad and instead steals Enji's credit card.

She pays her bills with Endeavours money.

She also fucks around with it, like orders an entire truckload of All Might merch to be delivered to Endeavour, she changes every password she can, hires people to "re-decorate" Endeavours room to an All-Might-Stans-Fever-Dream and Endeavour was about to hound Shouto about it until he realises he's been inside nearby all day and would never have had a chance to order any of this.

Any money she doesn't spend on her family or herself, she spends on her friends.

• She probably has multiple part-time jobs. She helps her dad at his workplace, floating construction beams when the machines break down and helping where she can. But she doesn't get paid for that.

She does work at a small shop (Lidl is you're British, 7/11 if you're American) by the side of a gas station and she remembers all the employees birthdays and makes them little glittery cards.

• Eventually she works with Tsuyu at a cafe, they actually learn great communication skills there. They make secret signals that mean a certain table needs attention, "this guy is an angry customer, be careful" or someone needs a refill. All of them are of course subtle and it makes them feel like spies with secret missions it's great. These signals carry over into their training too. Everyone, even Aizawa at one point thought they somehow had a telepathic link, that let them know who was behind them or what was a threat the other couldn't have known about, where to go, how quick to go there it was madness.

They also cover each other's shifts without question when they know the other needs the day off. :3

• She makes a point to be soft, it's friendly and approachable, it helps people trust her. Don't get her wrong, she loves cute things, it makes her feel nice and safe, it's familiar and she wants to replicate that feeling, she wants to be able to walk into a room and have people smile because their hearts grow warm. She wants to laugh and giggle and joke with people, she wants to be a walking safe-space people can go to for comfort. She wants to be the hero you go to not only when you're in danger, but when you just need some comfort. She's a rare hero. She's a good one too.

• And when someone makes fun of her for being soft, she can't help but laugh. She apologises for laughing but she finds their ignorance so funny. It takes a lot to be soft and kind, it takes a special kind of person. In this world? In this world villains are a threat to everyone, heroes get corrupt, families are forced out of homes, quirk injustice and discrimination runs rampant, the kids who are too brave, dumb, stupid or desperate for their own good become child-soldiers/heroes, people, good people who try to provide for others the only way they know how, the only way left since legal society won't help them and then get called a villain for it. She's seen it. The fights, the homes destroyed, the families ignored and hushed, the horrible, horrible world. But she won't let that change her.

The world is harsh and cold, that doesn't mean she has to be. She'll be soft in spite of the world, no matter how hard the laws push to divide and destroy and make you rely on them and only them, Uraraka knows the darkness there is in society, in humanity. but more than that she knows she is too stubborn to let that win.

So she enjoys her pink fluffy pillows, enjoys the makeup that she can afford, the sparkly dresses, the cute hairpieces, the hello kitty stationary, her pink rounded hero costume, she'll be friendly to everyone, she'll be nice and kind and thoughtful to everyone, she wants to make the world a safer but also happier place to live in.

Plus when they mistake her kindness for naivety, the best catharsis she gets is when she knocks that smug look off peoples faces for underestimating her..

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

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Sorry, sorry for a second request! Do you think you could do Prompt 9 or 17 with Shisui Uchiha?

I recently got so many requests about him which is kind of funny since he was a minor character in Naruto. But he is an Uchiha so I guess that explains it.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, kidnapping, manipulation, sabotage, intimidation, Shisui revealing his dark side, threatening, mentioning of killing

Prompt 9: “Do you want me to break your legs or lock you in a cage to prevent you from running away?”

Would you kill for love? Would you be ready to go as far as hurting, threatening and manipulating everyone in your way just to be able to know that the person you were madly in love with would return the favor and love you back? And would you feel guilty if you did so? Or would you tell yourself that this was necessary? Would you even feel ashamed of it in the first place?

Maybe it was sometimes easier to be obvious and more naive, maybe being blind was sometimes a good thing. Because seeing things very clearly and remembering whatever he did took it's psycological impact on Shisui, a lot more than he let others see. He was sure that he had every time be lenient with people which had saved a lot of stupid asses from him. He had been careful with whatever he had done, be that stalking, killing or other things he had done due to his obsession.

Everything had been hidden under multiple layers of friendliness, charm and intelligence, a nice guy act he had put on so he wouldn't scare you away and make you suspect him. Shisui had been rather determined to make you fall naturally for him without having to rely on anything else besides his natural charm and maybe a few threats here and there to scare potential rivals away. He had worked hard for all of this, having invested months to bring you to confess your love to him and a few other years just to keep a strong relationship with you. There were imperfect times as well, but that was normal and both of you had always been able to discuss it out. Shisui had been proud of this, that both of you were able to always talk about things and find a solution.

But even the sweetest lie must find it's end and looking back on it, he should have seen it coming. Love was in the end the strongest yet most fragile thing in this world. It could either go through the toughest of times or shatter with the slightest breeze of the wind. Truly ironic. Only one small mistake had been all that was needed to expose him to you, though many things were still in the dark for you and Shisui was not willing to tell you detailed everything he had ever done.

And now you were afraid of him, something he had never wanted. Instead of a smile you wore a mask of horror, instead of leaning into his touch you flinched away, instead of warmth and trust there were pain and tears in your eyes.

It was distraughting to see for the Uchiha, to know that the person he had planned on loving and protecting with all he had was now afraid of him. Life didn't go always his way and it was something normal, but even he had been mad at no one in particular because he hadn't had someone to blame except the person who had tattled too much and they had gone silent already, Shisui had guaranteed this to happen. But now he had been left with the knowledge that you knew the truth, wanted to break up with him, wanted to let others know the truth about the golden boy who was together with Itachi one of the most talented Uchiha.

How could he ever let that happen? He had a reputation and didn't want to disappoint his friend, his Kage, his village. Much less could he imagine a life without you on his side, he had never felt that desperate before like when he had seen you in such a devastated state, crying and shouting at him to leave, to go away, to never show his face in front of you again.

What other choice had he left except not only having to use his Sharingan on you and to make sure that you wouldn't be under too much humans for a while? You would have ruined everything he had worked on. Shisui had quickly thought about all sorts of excuses to why you would be gone for a long time, why you wouldn't be able to see friends and family for a while anymore. He knew that this wouldn't work for forever, even he was not allmighty. But he had been able to buy more time to think of something better because controlling you with his Sharingan for the rest of his life was tiring even for him and he disliked the thought of forcing you to love him. It didn't feel right to do. Not like anything he had done so far had been right.

But recently there had been something that had unnerved him a lot, managing to make him question his sanity. The way he had suddenly turned so much more threatening and intimidating on you. The first time he had done it, it had been quite surprising and he had paused when he had noticed what he had done. Never before had he been forced to do this, using threats on you. But now he had to, a new and frightening thing for you to witness, making you understand just why he was so feared by rival villages. Shisui had a cold and rational side to him, only doing what was best for his village and his comrades.

But being so selfish over it was something you weren't used to see, Shisui always made sure to be fair. But what had you known about him anyways? All you had known was his one side, the other side of him had always been a mystery to you. And you knew why. Now you knew why.

"Do you want me to break your legs or lock you in a cage to prevent you from running away?"

Because no one wanted to be near a cold killer like him, someone who kept all his emotions hidden under a perfect poker face with the red eyes that reminded you of a demon gazing at you. There was nothing on his face, no sympathy, no guilt, no nothing. It was probably best to not let emotions get the better of him, not when he was being assigned to kill people without hesitation.

His words had a numbing effect on you, causing you to stop struggling instantly, instead slowly falling down to your knees, trying to get your trembling breath under control. You had troubles to stay the smallest bit calm, not when fear was pumping through every single cell of you and made you flinch by even the smallest noises.

You didn’t know what was even scarier. The words he had just spoken or the person who had said them. Or maybe it was even the fact that you didn’t even know anymore whether to believe he wouldn’t do it or he would. There might have been a time where you would have taken all of this as a joke, but as you felt his cold presence lingering right over you, the glimmering eyes feeling like attempting to drill through your head and the tight grip he had the moment he wrapped his fingers around your arm, the hands with which he had killed and hurt others, made you doubt that he wouldn’t do it.

Still though, you wanted to play with your luck. Maybe you would be able to calm him a bit down and make something more human appear on his face.

Maybe.

“You wouldn’t.”, you stated with a more firm voice than expected, looking him daringly in his eyes. The glimmer of hope in you must have been still there inside of you.

You saw him quirking his eyebrow slightly when being met with the sudden courage of yours despite the fact that you were still shaking like a mice in front of it’s predator.

“What makes you feel so confident?”

“I might not have realized what you’ve been up to. But I’ve known and loved you long enough that you wouldn’t hurt those you cherish and love.”, you replied, continuing to endure his Sharingan despite the knowledge that he might trap you in a genjutsu at any moment.

He stared at you for a while, scanning you up and down in an observing way.

“I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you. You do not know what I am capable off.”

This was discouraging because you couldn’t tell if you had managed to hit a nerve of his or not, Shisui was an excellent actor. He didn’t give anything away.

“That’s true. I don’t know what you’re capable off. But I know that you have your honor and duty as well. So you wouldn’t hurt an innocent citizen, not if you are loyal to the Leaf. Because if you do, you are a terrible person. If you really love me, you won’t hurt me. Otherwise I am just an ignorant fool who still believes in love. In that case I would like you to do what you just threatened me you would do so I can stop seeing you as my love, but as the manipulative and cruel person you are. I won’t sugarcoat anything anymore. However, be aware that I will hate you for eternity afterwards and would rather die than acting like nothing ever happened.”

Your tone sounded warning and he knew that you had just threatened him just as much as he had done. He was a bit surprised that you had still the guts to talk to him like this, but you had always been someone who often managed to feel brave in a tricky situation.

You still had faith in him despite everything he had done? Shisui felt his inner conflict growing more and more, feelings clashing with each other and he maybe felt himself moving his poker face the tiniest bit, though it was too short for you to be sure you had really seen it.

Why had this to happen to you two? You could have been a happy couple. But it was too late to regret this. The past was the past. And Shisui had to focus on the present and the future.

“You think too highly of me.”, he told you, bending down so he didn’t have to stare down at you like this.

“You do not know what I had to do already in my life (y/n). You have no idea what I could do. I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t want to hurt you. However, I won’t take the risk of you potentially ruining everything I’ve worked on so hard. So do not test me and my patience.”

For a short moment he looked a bit exhausted, though this moment flashed by rather quickly and he went back to his emotionless face.

You felt bitterness stirring up inside of you as well as the feeling of losing hope and disappointment. Did he really mean this?

You jerked away when he suddenly grabbed your shoulders, looking like he wanted to say something else.

“I don’t have a choice (y/n). You left me no other options. I do not expect you to understand why I do what I do. But at the very least please understand that I never wanted this to happen. I still love you.”

The slightest bit of distraught, marking all his actions slightly, specifically the sudden desperate tightening of his grip.

“I’m sorry. But I have to be this way.”

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere shisui #yandere shisui uchiha

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roccinan · 3 years

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Hermano👀👀👀 (hopeful for new snippets)

I knew I could rely on you for that #hermanos support ;) Public shaming time asdfasdf I don't have any new snippets, but I do have more or less the whole plot of "Hermano" sketched out in my head. (Lots of spoilers below the cut!)

[ 👉 My Wips ]

It takes place directly after Hermanito AKA when Andres left the hospital 5 min. after waking up. dumbass. So we follow him and Sergio home, and Andres legit tries to act like nothing happened (the vibe: "dear diary, all the fancy restaurants are booked for Christmas parties. Maybe I could take Sergio on a ski trip. It's very hard to find gold-laced wrapping paper in this economy. If I can't find solid gold tissue paper, silver is fine too. I think Sergio would enjoy the imported chocolate I ordered for the holidays--" then in the margins, he goes, "oh yeah, we almost died the other night and I was in a coma for a week but who cares? anyway, presents-")

Andres and Sergio have completely different priorities. Which will be a Project for me because Hermano is from Andres' pov and his brain is something else. Anyway, while Andres is limping around and subconsciously projecting secret childhood trauma onto his preparations for the Perfect Christmas TM with Hermanito, Sergio's like, "hmm you don't look so well, Andres"

Eventually, Andres realizes Sergio's right because his insides shouldn't feel that way and coughing up blood isn't normal. They go to some underground street surgeon to patch him up. And Andres' delusions take a hit x1 when the guy suggests that Sergio's going to grow up to be as fucked up as him if Andres keeps raising him. (btw, no painkillers or anesthetic involved because the dude couldn't afford it LMAO- he'll be like "go buy some ibuprofen after this. I'm gonna start cutting into you now-")

Andres' delusions take a hit x2 when another of the thugs from the last story tracks him down to his shitty apartment like a day after the surgery. Andres manages to kill the guy, but not before almost dying (again). Sergio, unprompted, cleans up the blood and tells Andres how they should get rid of the body. Hit x3. Now Andres realizes maybe his idea of a perfect little life with Sergio isn't so great after all because 1) this is the second time he "failed" to protect his brother 2) maybe he's a terrible influence on Sergio after all 3) his shitty lifestyle just isn't suited for children.

But they spend Christmas together anyway, and it's the best one Andres has ever had even though they didn't get to do anything fancy.

Which is why hit x4 absolutely destroys him. Sergio falls ill again and Andres rushes him to the actual hospital (not the shady surgeon), the one he first met Sergio in. The doctor pretty much guesses Andres' entire life story at first glance and politely tells him, "hmm, I think you're a worthless nobody who's going to die from some fight on the streets. I'm disgusted by your presence already. But your little brother on the other hand, now, that's a young man with a future, if he lives lmao which he won't with you. no offense."

Since Andres has spent his entire life not listening to other people's words and building up his own delusional world, that speech shouldn't affect him. But it does because now it's not about him. It's about Sergio, the one person Andres ever cared about to this extent and the one person that truly, actually loves him back.

So Andres arranges for Sergio to be adopted by a family in Barcelona. Then he tells Sergio he doesn't want him anymore and tries to abandon him at the train station. Sergio, kid genius TM, sees right through him and doesn't get on the train. He and Andres make a really big scene there and cry a lot. Sergio makes it super clear that he's not going to Barcelona and that he wants to stay with Andres. He knows Andres doesn't think it's the best choice, he knows it's not the smartest choice, but it's what he wants. Andres didn't leave him when he had no one, so he's not going to leave Andres when it's the other way around.

The fic ends with the hermanos visiting papa Marquina's grave and Sergio teaching Andres the lyrics to bella ciao (this should have been the ending to Hermanito but I got tired adfadsf). Then Andres makes plans to take Sergio to Russia for experimental treatment, as per Alvaro's headcanons.

That's the outline in my head! Hopefully what I write will look the same LMAO and I'm hoping to publish in winter. It's up to fate!

Other things that happen:

Andres remembers that time he starred in a porno, felt it was beneath his dignity, and lost all the clothes he was wearing because they were bought by someone else. This led to him hiding out in a McDonalds bathroom, butt-naked at 2am and looking for chicken nuggets in the trash. Then the janitor tried to kick him out and Andres beat him up and stole his clothes. He considers this the lowest point of his life

Sergio gives Andres a little gift for Christmas, and Andres is surprise pikachu face

A mini-snippet that I hope to include (between the unlicensed surgeon and Andres):

"Take this."

Jose shoved a pair of earplugs into his hands. Andres quirked a brow. "Why would I need these?"

The older man laughed, a nasally trill of sounds that Andres did not appreciate. "They're not for you. They're for the kid-"

Jose grinned. "Because you're going to scream like a bitch."

Snippet from last time:

Occasionally, he would have a moment of clarity. He could step back then and see himself, not as Andres, but as he was. And he’d traded enough counterfeit art to know the difference between artifice and truth. This was a truth he’d always known, as universal as the rules of anatomy and color: Andres belonged on the pages of a sketchbook, lines of charcoal scribbled in haste and set to practice.

He was a replica of that sketch, counterfeit, a scribble made to tear out and scratch.

But Sergio? Sergio was the real deal. Sergio was the painting itself, the portrait that came from the work of countless sketches.

“You don’t have many prospects. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“You can die on the street and nobody’d give a flying fuck.”

“You brother isn’t like you. He has a future.”

Andres looked back to the blood in his sink, the red on his knuckles, and the gashes peppering his face in the mirror. Jorge’s damned words surfaced in his head, as did the physician’s and the most accursed voice of them all: his own. They were right, he realized with a sharp- unfamiliar- ache, he could not keep this up. The dust from his charcoal had no right dirtying the gloss of Sergio’s paint. The portrait could never thrive beneath the counterfeit.

He made his choice. And he should never have fancied another option.

#nharidy #thanks for the ask!#wip meme #I had a year and a half to plan this story LMAO #all I have to do is actually Write it asdfasdfsadf #but maybe it's for the best #december or november might be the best time to post it idk #maybe there'll be a new year's scene too #where they watch fireworks from the shitty apartment #and of course #'amigo' returns to sergio's pov at age 17/18 #where he's back in spain and meeting *Gasp* his brother's new best friend: Martin Berrote

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stellar-imagines · 5 years

Text

HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝stressed out.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Shinsou Hitoshi ]

「Headcanons of Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki and Shinsou with their S/O getting stressed over homework, exams, training, etc to the point of getting sick.」

MIDORIYA IZUKU

♤ Midoriya is a very supportive person! He's gunning to be the best Hero out there and make All Might proud which actually meant he had to be stronger than anyone else. Everyone in his class can be rivals but then again, everyone was sharing the same dream. When he sees you studying or training, he offers his help. And that was when he saw the signs of you not getting enough sleep.

♤ Now UA isn't just any high school. It's a prestigious one where students can step out into the outside world as heroes, support specialists and etc. In addition to the normal studies that any other high school provides, there were other subjects that are hero-related. Whether it was in the Hero Course, Support Course or even the General Department, there are extra subjects for you to learn.

♤ It was easy to see how you've been working hard for the past few days. There were reports to submit for English and History. In addition, there's gonna be a quiz for Maths coming soon. On top of that, you needed to train harder to catch up to everyone. He invites himself into your room when you're studying, bringing some of your favorite snacks and drinks. When it comes to studying, he's very happy to help you with whatever he can.

♤ Midoriya is a worrier. When he sees you clearly overworking yourself, he doesn't hesitate to approach you, reminding you to take a break and relax for a while. All you did was smile at his kindness and he actually believed that you would heed his advice. And he was dumb enough to believe that you would actually follow his words. You did, but it all lasted for a while, around 15 minutes, before you realize that there was something you needed to revise.

♤ He noticed that you were sick when you showed up to school looking very tired. Your entire body was burning up and you're insisting that you're feeling just fine when you're not. This boy doesn't hesitate to resort to force, he's bringing you back to your room and insists you to rest despite your protests. You gave in to his pleading because who could resist the way he was looking at you. Midoriya's face showed it all, pain, sadness and worry.

♤ He's by your side most of the time, brings you food and water. Midoriya makes sure that you're not alone and he rambles on and on about something until you eventually fall asleep. This boy gets tons of cool fever gel and asks you where you're feeling a hot. He pastes it everywhere you points, please stop him. Gives you a full copy of his notes on the subjects that you missed out.

♤ This boy is your personal nurse for the next few days you're sick. After recovering, Midoriya still keeps a close eye on you, making sure you stay hydrated and not overwork yourself. He's there to remind you that you're doing your best and stop you when he thinks that you need a break.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

☆ Bakugou doesn't really treat you that specially. You're his girlfriend, someone he acknowledges. However, that doesn't mean he's unaware of the subtle changes. No, scratch that, you were actually overworking yourself. At first, it was an admirable thing, seeing you work so hard and all that. So, he let you do as you pleased. He's happy to know that your relationship isn't getting in your way of becoming a hero. Whenever he comes over to your room, you'd be studying. And honestly, he doesn't mind the silence and lack of attention.

☆ At first, he noticed how you're always excusing yourself and cancelling plans with your friends. And you would lock yourself up in your room, doing revisions and re-reading notes that you took during class. He sees this as you being diligent. Bakugou keeps in touch with you though, through texts and updates from your classmates.

☆ However, when things got a bit too far, he gets annoyed. Realllllly pissed. You'd go as far as to turn down his offers, saying that you needed to do some more training or studying. He invites you to eat dinner with him? You'd say you need to study and review some notes. On the weekends where he wants to just do nothing but be with you? You would apologize with a smile and say that you want to practice your quirk. Bakugou really admires your handwork but this is a bit too much.

☆ Bakugou notices your sluggish state almost in an instant. Your friends were questioning you whether you were fit enough to even participate in extra training after school but you would smile and tell them that you were fine. He's having none of it though. He happened to be within the vicinity when Uraraka invited you yo train. He marched over towards you, hoisted you up like a sack of potatoes and brings you to your room despite how much you yelled in his ear, demanding him to put you down.

☆ He complains about you being stupid enough to skip meals and bottle all your emotions. Bakugou says that you're annoying, an idiot for overworking yourself, pushing yourself too far and not knowing your limits. At the same time, he's cooking meals, changing the cool gel and buying medicine for you. Honestly, he wants to be with you at all times, especially after being neglected for a while.

☆ Very relieved to see you resting in your bed buy very unhappy at the fact that you're sick. Bakugou feels a bit responsible since he had been watching you the entire time but made no effort to stop you from working yourself to the bone. He secretly likes it when you're sick because you're very clingy and it gives him an excuse to pamper you.

☆ He decides to stay close with you ever since then. He decides to join you on your training sessions, making sure that you don't overwork yourself. Bakugou gives good advice that can improve your fighting style vastly! And who wouldn't want one of the smartest students in the class tutoring you on the subjects you had difficulty in. Did we mention how he likes it when you're relying on him? If we didn't then, he really likes it when you rely on him.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

♡ Todoroki is bad at feelings and being in a relationship is foreign for him. He does his best in the relationship, takes you on dates, studies with you and etc. In addition, he's oblivious to most things. He doesn't really analyze people's behavior or pay any much attention to how people act around him. But when he started dating you, he was able to pick up a few of your habits unconsciously. Things like the small change in your movements when you're happy, sad or embarrassed. Even to the small details like how you would sway your feet back and forth or fidget when you're feeling bored.

♡ It began to become a habit of his to observe you from a distance. Todoroki is aware of how hard you're training everyday. With everyone improving day by day and getting better after each day, it was no surprise that you wanted to keep up with everyone else and not fall behind. He, himself, easily picked up on how the rest of his classmates are improving recently.

♡ He might appear stoic, aloof and a bit distant but he's actually worried about you. Todoroki thinks that you're fine and all, just wanting to be stronger and all that. It actually motivates him to do better too so it doesn't really bother him that you're training so much. He sees it as you working hard to achieve your goals, it actually motivates him to do better.

♡ Todoroki actually tags along on your training sessions. As students of UA, studies are much more different than in normal schools. In addition to the extra training lessons, you study more often that you normally do. Everything started to get a bit harder and it was no surprise that you were stressing out. At the times where he wasn't able to join your training sessions, he texts to remind you not to overwork yourself.

♡ He discovered that you were sick when you came late to school on one day, he was quite worried to see you behaving differently. Todoroki easily assumed that you were sick and insisted that you take the day off and rest in the dorms. But you were stubborn.

♡ He seriously doesn't know what to do at this point. You had told him that just staying by your side was more than enough. Being sick often meant that you're not able to move around that much on your own. He does his best though! Refilling your empty glass with water. In addition, he changes the wet towel on your forehead when you're asleep. He goes out of his way to buy food for you because he's not good at cooking. Okay, he shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen, please keep him away from the kitchen.

♡ Todoroki is a bit more worried now though. He fears that you will stress over everything up to the point you fall sick again. This guy does his best to ensure that you're not stressing that much, telling you not to worry too much about it. He helps you with your studies by tutoring you. As he is one of the smartest students in the class, you were able to learn a lot from him.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

♧ In the early stages of the relationship, Shinsou is very distant. He's very worried and scared to be in a romantic relationship with another person. He's gotten used to people shunning him for his quirk, making the assumption that he would turn into a villain. So, it became a natural thing for him to isolate him from others. You had been the first one to break him out of his shell and made him fall in love with you. A relationship was actually the last thing on Shinsou's mind because he's more focused on becoming a hero and proving himself.

♧ But when you came in, everything around him came crashing down. He fell in love, got into a relationship with you and his life seemed a bit better. Shinsou isn't that good at showing his emotions but he's developed a skill for reading people. It was fairly easy for him to tell that you're lying whenever you texted him you were fine. He's very gentle and has his own special ways to show affection. He gives you a hug when he thinks you need it, compliments on every single thing you do to cheer you up.

♧ Even though this actually boosts your confidence and makes you less stressed, it didn't stop you from doing what you had intended to do all along. You continue to overwork yourself, whether it was studying or training. Shinsou doesn't seem to mind that you're not spending that much time with him. You'd apologize and ask him to forgive you this once but he would wave it off, saying that it was no problem. But when it grew frequent, he started to miss your presence.

♧ Shinsou finally realized that you were stressing yourself when he visiting your room at night, with hands filled with snacks. You were seated on your desk, hand in your hair as you glared at your notebook, eyelids slowly falling shut which indicated how sleepy you actually were. The look on your face said everything he needed to know.

♧ You stressing over homework, exams and training which results in getting not enough sleep? Shinsou is having none of that. He's the one who's supposed to not get enough sleep around here. Boy, he's a smooth talker and you bet your ass that it doesn't take long for him to persuade you to take a break from studying and training. Unfortunately, you had gotten ill from pushing yourself a bit too much. When you fall ill, he would give you the 'I told you so' look. But he does his best to nurse you back to health. He's not that good at nursing but he does his best okay? Shinsou is always by your side, making sure you need everything you need.

♧ Boy is as bad as Midoriya actually but he doesn't show it. This guy has never been close with anyone before so he goes a bit too extra. He takes quite a while to choose medicine and reads 10 different articles on how to nurse a sick person to health.

♧ To ensure that this doesn't happen again, he's always checking in on you. He would drop by with some snacks and drinks, inviting you to walk around for a break. Brings you around places where you can relax, like the park or a small cafe that wasn't too busy. Anything that can get your mind off school, honestly.

Total: 2163 words Published: 31.12.2019

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ Our last request for the year! And/Or Shinsou?? You bet your ass we’re gonna include him ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I’ve been stressing myself out so I poured my feelings into this. A bit self indulgent because I want my boys to pamper me. Hope you enjoyed it, anon! ― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! We may or may have not gotten carried away when doing this request. This person here ( ↑ ) wrote a bit too much. Anyway, we both hope you don’t mind us choosing the main three! ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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a-n-conrad · 5 years

Text

Fighting and Flirting (Bakugo x Reader)

Chapter 1: Butterflies

[Summary: You and Shoto grew up together, sparring throughout the years in order to convince his father to allow the two of you to remain friends.]

Relationships: Bakugo x Reader, Todoroki & Reader, Midoriya & Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting (blood), Mineta, SLOWBURN

Masterlist

“You should teach me how to do that,” You jump a little at the voice behind you, though you quickly recognize it.

“I don’t think your dad would appreciate that all that much, Shoto,” You joke, waving your hand to dispel the illusions of butterflies you had created to swarm around you in the courtyard, before turning slightly to face your childhood friend.

“He let you in here, didn’t he?” He motions to the garden around you. It was true, his dad had been the one to walk you to the inner garden of their abode today, though you still weren’t sure how much truth was held in his next statement, “Obviously, he doesn’t mind you all that much.”

“You know that’s just because he wants us to spar in a little bit. He likes that I give you a challenge sometimes.”

He sighs and sits on the ground next to you. You guys still had a little while until his dad came out and started hounding you to start sparring with each other. You always liked to take this time to actually sit and enjoy being around each other before he was attempting to either set you on fire or freeze you to death.

You two had been friends with each other for quite a long time at that point. You had met about a year before Shoto’s quirk presented and you had refused to go away when his dad had attempted to isolate him from the world. Eventually, Endeavor gave up on trying to get rid of you and just decided to find a way to make you useful, though you were sure that if you were his kid your arguments would’ve ended quite differently if what Shoto says is anything to go by. Instead, however, you became Shoto’s sparring partner, since your parents weren’t even around enough to protest.

Admittedly, your quirk wasn’t quite as useful when it came to battle as Shoto’s. You could manipulate light and sound to create elaborate illusions or just send off a bright beam of light or a sonic boom. Other than that, though, you had to rely a lot more on your physical abilities than Shoto. You could really only use one sonic boom before your ears started ringing, and if you used it more than that before the ringing stopped, the doctors said you’d end up making yourself go deaf. That just means you spent a lot more time outside of sparring working out and building muscle.

“I was serious, though, (Y/N),” Shoto’s voice broke into your thoughts, “You should teach me how to make butterflies like that. I’m sure my fire could do something similar.”

“Maybe,” You replied, attempting to think about how you’d have to adjust your tactic in order to make it work with fire, instead of just light, “We’d have to shift a few things, but we might be able to make it work. I don’t think you’d have quite as much control as I do, though.”

“That’s alright,” He replied, leaning his head on your shoulder, his dual-colored hair falling into your face a little bit, “I just think it’d be nice to make something pretty out of my fire.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense, Sho.”

“What are you two doing just sitting around?” The voice that echoed from the area near one of the doors to the garden was easily the last one you wanted to hear, though you knew well that he’d be out soon, “Do you really think you have time to just sit around? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the entrance exam?”

“Entrance Exam?” You asked, a little confused as to what Endevear was talking about as he approached the two of you. You hadn’t really thought of any school to apply to yet and as far as you knew, neither had Shoto, “Entrance to where?”

“UA, obviously. You think Shoto would be going anywhere else?”

You glanced over at your friend, a little hurt that he didn’t tell you that he had already figured out where he was going, “Oh, right. Should I leave you to study instead? I’m sure the written exam is important too.”

“You’re going too, aren’t you?” Shoto asked, tilting his head a little as if it had been obvious to you. He had a couple habits like that, though you were sure almost no one else got to see them.

“What?”

“You want to be a hero, too, don’t you? There’s no better place to go than UA.”

“Shoto,” You started, “There’s no way I’ll get into UA. Their entrance exams aren’t exactly built for people with quirks like mine. I could do alright in the written portion, but I doubt I’d do at all good in the practical exam.”

“That’s why you get in on a recommendation,” Endeavor states, obviously getting annoyed at the conversation and the lack of sparring that was going on during it. He was quick to get annoyed with you, though he knew there really wasn’t much he could do about it without getting himself into trouble.

“What,” You try your best not to sound too surprised and confused, but you were never really all that good at hiding your emotions, “Where would I get a recommendation?”

“From me, of course,” He replies, rolling his eyes, “They’re pretty quick to accept recommendations from the number 2 hero, but you still have to go through an entrance exam. It’s just not quite as battle-centric.”

“Oh, thank you!” You jumped up from your spot on the ground, too excited to hide your grin, and while you still felt a little guilty to accept something from someone who was so cruel to your friend, you knew there was no other way for you to get into the same school as him.

“Shut up,” He grumbles, “Don’t forget that it’s just to give Shoto a decent rival at that school. That means you had better get into the same class as him. Now, will you get on with the training before you have to fight me instead?”

You nodded and helped Shoto up from his spot on the ground, nest to where you were just seated before the both of you got into your sparring positions that you had gotten into multiple times a week for the past few years.

- - - - -

Shoto almost always started out using his right side. He liked his ice better, so he always favored using it. That’s why as he quickly shot a wall of ice out towards you you knew exactly how to dodge. A quick bit of acrobatics to his left as you were in the clear.

Of course, he expected that, which meant you had to be pretty quick on your feet to make another quick dodge as he threw a shot of flames towards you. You had been through this same battle enough that the two of you knew each other’s moves better than anyone else in the world. That meant that you each had to start getting more creative in order to avoid playing out the same battle every single time.

You each had your own goals, though, which you knew would make it easier to win the fight. You knew that his goal was to keep you as far away as he could, so he could use his long-distance move in order to either freeze you in place or to burn you enough that you tap out. That made your goal to get as close to him as you could so you could get a few punches in.

You held your hand up quickly, focusing as hard you could in order to push out a quick sonic boom, knocking him down for just a moment. This gave you just enough time to set up your newest illusion for a test.

You focused on the light first. Step one was to make yourself disappear. Just make the area around you look exactly like the area behind you to him. That way it looked a though he could see through you. You weren’t entirely sure how well it worked, but you were hoping it was an effective enough illusion that it looked like you had vanished. By the time you had gotten that illusion to the point you wanted it, he was already starting to stand back up, almost entirely recovered from your sonic boom.

That meant you only had a couple of moments to get as far away from where you had just been standing before he tried to roast you.

As he started to stand, you sprinted as fast as you could towards him, quickly closing the gap between you as he glanced around, confused as to where you had gone.

However, despite your new plan, you were at a slight disadvantage. With your ears ringing as much as they were, you weren’t quite sure how much noise your footsteps were making. You quickly became aware of that new fact as Shoto looked directly at you. As he started freezing the ground around himself, the trail of ice rushing towards you, you took the chance to jump, diving directly towards his midsection.

You managed to avoid his ice, tackling him to the ground, only for your illusion to disappear as you made contact with him. You, however, didn’t care about the illusion anymore. You quickly adjusted to straddle his midsection, pinning one of his shoulders down with your left hand and you leaned the other arm onto his throat in a sort of chokehold.

He quickly tried to move his arm to grab your arm, however, you were quick to move both of his arms to his sides, pinning them there with your legs, before returning to the chokehold.

“Tap out, Sho,” You muttered, applying a little bit more pressure.

He glared at you before tapping one of his hands against the ground where they were pinned. You quickly stood up, helping him up with you before brushing some dirt off of your clothes.

“You really don’t go easy on me ever, do you?”

“You really shouldn’t either, Sho. I can handle myself. I know it doesn’t take you that long to get up after getting knocked down,” You say quietly, hoping his dad wouldn’t hear you. You knew that if his dad figured out either of you were going easy on each other it wouldn’t end well for Shoto.

Luckily for the two of you, before he could say anything about the fight, he got a call. Obviously work-related.

“I have to go,” He said, already on his way out, “The two of you should get some studying in. If you make my recommendations look bad I’m not going to be happy.”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki #bnha endeavor #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #slowburn

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