#quite afraid to express even silly things but i don't want this to hold power over me anymore

[autistic-shaiapouf]

I really do need people to greenlight behavior for me huh

[agathaslittle]

Meet the Maximoff - Little!Reader x Agatha Harkness

Summary: Wanda shows up unexpectedly at the Harkness holsehold while you're in your headspace.

Requested by Anon: "Little!Reader x Agatha but Wanda meets the little!reader? Maybe a little jealousy from Aggie?"

Word Count: 1272

Trigger Warnings: Age Regress.

A/N: In my fanfics littles and bigs are known.

This was not expected. And it was definitely not planned.

Wanda almost never left her house, too focused on her husband to worry about the rest of the city. The only exception had been Dottie's reunion, but Agatha hadn't expected her to go out again anytime soon, at least until the talent show.

But clearly she was wrong, and quite unprepared.

The witch was preparing lunch when the doorbell rang, and like the good girl you were, you yelled from the living room "I'll answer it!" and immediately ran to the door, not giving her time to stop you.

She didn't want Wanda to know you, much less in your little state, as Agatha was afraid that the great power the other witch possessed might affect you. Also, you weren't very discerning when you were little and could let your real identities slip by accident.

But what was done was done, and in that moment there you were, opening the door for Wanda. At least Agatha had been careful enough to change your clothes to the 60s style that morning; you wore a collared and swirly dress, colorless, since everything in town was in black and white. It was clear that your style was childish, and Wanda quickly realized that.

"Hey there, what's your name, honey?" She asked in a soft tone, her head tilting to the side with a sweet smile.

"It's Y/N," you replied quietly, a little shy with the stranger's presence, "what's yours?"

Damn it, Y/N! Agatha thought as she heard the conversation from the kitchen, her blood turning to ice. You two had talked about your false names, but she already imagined that this conversation would not have reached the little you.

"My name is Wanda, I'm your neighbor to the right, your right," she pointed to the house next door.

It was time to intervene, so Agatha wiped her hands on her apron quickly, practically running into the living room.

"Hey, Wanda!" She smiled falsely, putting her arm around your waist and stepping to the side to let the witch enter, "I see you've already met my little one."

"Yes, she's adorable," Wanda nodded with a kind expression, walking through the door as you buried your face in Agatha's neck, feeling that she was tense, "but I don't remember you telling me about her."

"Oh, must've slipped out my mind to tell you, you know how it is, being a housewife can be tiring sometimes..." she lied naturally, getting a nod of understanding from the redhead, "but anyway, you need to something, dear?"

"Well I came because I want to ask for your help with one of Dottie's requests, her list is very confusing."

"Of course I can, but would you mind if I went into the kitchen for a few minutes? I have to take the pots off the stove and finish lunch."

"If you want I can help you with that," Wanda offered, but that was the last thing Agatha wanted. She needed to get you to another room and fast.

"No need to, sugar, I'll finish it faster than you can say lunch," Agatha giggled, "come with me, Y/N."

You were about to go, but the redhead stopped you both, "you can leave Y/N with me, I'll take care of her for you, I'm sure this cutie and I will get along well."

Agatha forced a smile again, knowing it would be suspicious to deny that request. She then sighed and pulled away from you, stroking your hair, "be nice to Wanda, alright?"

"Okay, mommy," you agreed, running to the living room rug and sitting there near where Wanda was on the couch.

Agatha glanced once more at the two of you before heading to the kitchen, the quicker she finished lunch, the quicker she would solve Wanda's problem and the witch would be gone. She wished she could use her magic to speed up the process but the brunette didn't want to risk being caught.

Still she remained calm, knowing that she would be able to see part of the living room and hear everything that happened from the kitchen.

Meanwhile, you took your stuffed bunny and hugged it, feeling a little embarrassed to be alone with Wanda, even more so when she, too, sat on the rug, looking at you.

"What's your little friend's name?" She pointed to her bunny.

"It's Scratchy Junior," you smiled, petting his fluffy head.

"Ah," she pursed her lips in approval and nodded her head, "just like Señor Scratchy?"

"Yeah, because he's a bunny too and looks like him..." you rambled in a baby-ish way.

"And what does Scratchy Junior like to do, honey?"

Honey? Agatha scoffed mentally, taking the pots off the stove. The pots were boiling, but no more than her blood while she heard Wanda interacting with you.

"He likes to jump around, like this, look," you held him in one hand and mimicked the bouncing of a rabbit all around you until you placed him in Wanda's lap, "and he likes you."

"Awww," Wanda cooed, stroking the stuffed animal with one hand and your hair with the other, "I like him too."

That. Was. It.

"Lunch is ready!" Agatha yelled from the kitchen, her tone a little louder than necessary.

Then Wanda got up, still holding the bunny and offering you her hand, which you held to get up and didn't let go until you reached the kitchen. You clearly liked Wanda, she looked nice.

But seeing you hand in hand with the witch infuriated Agatha, even though she couldn't show it. Instead, she served the plates as if nothing had happened, frowning a little as you sat down in the chair next to Wanda, "come sit at mommy's lap, baby."

And you didn't even question the sudden request, just happy to have lunch on your mommy's lap, and if Wanda noticed that Agnes was jealous, she didn't say anything about it. You barely paid attention to the boring subject about Dottie, enjoying Agatha's affections and Wanda's attention.

She had put your bunny on the table, pretending to feed him every now and then, making you laugh and bounce all over. Agatha had to hold on to keep her eyes from rolling in annoyance to seeing you getting along so well with Wanda.

When you all finished lunch, Wanda felt satisfied enough with Agnes help and finally decided to leave, but not before hugging you tight, promising that she would soon see you and Scratchy Junior again.

This time Agatha almost threw her entire plan out the window, wanting to blow up that little witch - little bitch - for her insolence.

As soon as the door closed behind Wanda, Agatha was already pulling you into her arms, "why did you say you like her baby?"

That made you shrug, "because I liked her."

"Do you like her more than me?" Agatha practically pouted.

You shook your head.

"Silly mommy, I like her but I only love you," you replied as it was obvious, because, well, it was obvious to you. Agatha, however, seemed delighted at your answer, pressing you even closer to her with a big smile.

She would never get tired of hearing those words come out of your lips.

When the news arrived the next day, Agatha wasn't truly surprised to learn that Wanda was pregnant, expecting a baby of her own, coincidentally after meeting you. Even though it smelt of chaos magic, the witch felt a little relieved, knowing that Wanda would no longer be focused on you.

After all, you were Agatha's baby and hers alone.

[skellebonez]

How #67 with Mei and her parents? don't see much content with them. - Pixel Anon

Considering we haven't seen Mei's parents since episode 3 and we have no idea what their relationship is actually like now, I decided to do some canon-divergence and have them take initiative to be more involved in Mei's life. And since it’s fathers day... eh, why not do a little something with her dad in particular since I never really write her parents? (I got another anon for a fill involving Mei and her dad, but unfortunately Tumblr seems to have ghosted it into the ether, and i fused it into this one.)

My father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of.

"Uh... hi mom?" Mei said in surprise, looking around when she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind her and finding that it was indeed the two of them alone in the garage. "Where's dad?"

"He's a little tied up in business, but he’s home," Mrs. Long said with a sigh, moving to stand behind her daughter and look down at her project with a look of confusion and mild dismay. "What... are you working on, dear?"

Mei looked down at her current state, coated in engine oil and grease with scattered parts of one of the many many cars laying around her. Like a gutted fish but much shiner and louder.

“Oh, uh...” Mei started with an awkward chuckle. “After, you know, the whole break in and everything I’ve been fixing up some of the cars that were still mostly in one piece and, uh...” she gestured to the one in front of her, jazz hands waving slightly enthusiastically. “Ta da?”

“... Oh!” Mrs. Long said when she registered what Mei meant, a small smile finally forming on her face. “You didn’t need to do that on your own, Mei, but...” She moved forward, inspecting the car with a careful gaze. “This is quite impressive! You’d never know it was damaged at all. I thought...” She frowned again, looking back to her daughter. “Well, I thought you were only interested in motorcycles so I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Oh no!” Mei laughed, wiping her hands on her work overalls. “Motorcycles are my specialty, but I know enough about most vehicles to give them some good care!” There was an odd expression on her mother’s face that fell over her at these words, something far off and somewhat sad. “Mom? You ok?”

“Yes,” her mom replied, just a bit too fast before she smiled again. “Actually, I think your father was almost finished when I came in to check in on you. He wanted to talk to you himself, why don’t you see if he’s done? He should be in the tea room.”

“... sure...” Mei said slowly, bending down to start picking up parts before her mom placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, dear, just leave those there in case you want to come back later. Just... change into clean clothes and wash your hands for now.”

Now... that was odd. Mei’s parents had always been clear on keeping the house as tidy as possible once you needed to leave a room (barring her own bedroom). But ever since that one Bull Clone (General Ironclad she thought she heard Red Son call him once) broke into her house for the Dragon Blade her parents had been acting different. Not extremely different, but noticeably so.

But instead of bringing this up Mei nodded to her mother and headed to wash up.

~

“Dad?” Mei called out, cleaned up from her car repairs and in clean clothes once again. “Mom said you wanted to talk to me?”

He was right where her mother had said he would be, in the tea room. Strewn about in front of him were papers upon papers, some seeming to be insurance forms for the multitude of broken objects strewn about the house and others repair bills. She was certain some of them, all on one side of the table, were research papers of some kind. And sitting at a seat in the middle of the long table was her father, small space cleared before him as he drank a fresh hot cup of tea. There was another, equally fresh cup across from him.

“Ah, Mei!” Her father said brightly, but there was an odd tenseness to his tone. “Yes, come in, sit down! There are a few things that we need your input on.”

Well that was vague as hell. But Mei did as requested, taking the seat across from him and picking up the tea before her. “I wouldn’t think this is something you’d be doing here in the... tea room.”

“Yes, well,” her father shrugged, glowering down at the paperwork with a sigh. “Sometimes you put aside convention to be comfortable. And with my office out of commission this is a much more relaxing place to work on papers than the dining room. If I don’t replace those chairs as soon as possible remind me how uncomfortable they are!” He shuddered dramatically, the action making Mei relax just a tad bit. The chairs had always been uncomfortable, she and her mother had told him as much before, but the three of them had never sat in them long enough for them to become bothersome. “But that’s something to worry about later! First, the main reason I wanted to talk to you...”

He put down his cup, reaching over to grab some paperwork on the right side of the table and slide it to her.

“As you know most of our cars in our collection were not salvageable after the break in.” Mei tensed a bit at that, frowning down at the paperwork in front of her. And her eyes widened. “And, well, we never really had reason to drive them anyway. Refilling the garage with new cars just seems silly at this point, so your mother and I were talking about possibly restructuring it and making the empty 3/4 of the garage into a sort of...” He paused for a moment, humming before snapping his fingers. “A workshop, I suppose is the correct term! For someone who liked to collect a lot of cars at one point I don’t know much about them, that was always more your mother’s interest even if she always insisted we only needed two. But you’re always working on your motorcycle and I thought giving you that space would be a much more reasonable use for it!”

Mei set her teacup down, picking up the papers as he talked and looking over them with wide eyes.

They were blueprints. For a garage workshop. For her motorcycle. For her.

“I-I!” She sputtered, gesturing to the papers with a shake of her head. “You... but this is-! I don’t-!”

“Mei,” her father said firmly, but gently, holding up one of his hands. “I know that we paid for you to live on your own in your own pent house and that you have a workshop outside as well, but this house is still your home as well! You have a room here, after all. But you don’t have to agree to having a workshop here if you don’t want one, they’re just blueprints at this point, and we can always find other uses for the empty space in the future.”

“... ok, what happened?” Mei asked, deadpan and looking at her father with suspicion. “I mean, I love the idea! I’d love to have a place for my vehicle work here! But ever since the break in you and mom have been acting really weird, dad!”

Mr. Long tensed, looking away from his daughter for a moment before bowing his head to look down into his tea.

“We... had a conversation with Mr. Tang,” Mr. Long said after a moment of silence, making Mei look at him with surprise. “... actually, no, it was more like we were given a lecture by Mr. Tang.” He chuckled, ruffling his hair and looking back up to Mei. “We may have many years on him, but he made us feel like teenagers being yelled at by the principal again. Your mother and I... we realized after your reaction of surprise that we haven’t been the most open and communicative parents. We’ve treated our house like more of a museum than as a home ever since you were a child, and when you moved out and we helped you get everything you had no access to while growing up here... we didn’t realize that it would feel even more so like we were trying to uphold that image.”

“Mr. Tang talked to you about that?” Mei winced, remembering the multiple times she would rant at her family friend who had been there for her since she was just a little girl. Multiple... multiple times. He’d been sworn to secrecy, naturally, but it seemed that this was the last straw for him.

“Yes,” her father confirmed with a nod, twisting his fingers. “We never meant for you to feel unwelcome in your own home, but with how busy we always were and how proud we were of our family history we lost sight of the fact we were. Even if you only stay here when we’re gone to watch the house we want you to feel comfortable, Mei. I can understand if you’re still apprehensive of this, however.”

Whatever Tang has said to the Long family heads must have been something to behold. And Mei couldn’t help but grab the paperwork and move to the side of the table her father sat at, sitting beside him instead of across from him.

“Well for starters, lets make this less ‘business meeting’ and more ‘dad talking to kid’, ok?” She said lightly, laying the papers in front of both of them. “And... car upkeep is more mom’s thing? Since when?” Mei raised a brow with a smirk,

Her father looked at her with surprise before chuckling, moving to half face her and the table with a far more comfortable smile. “She hasn’t really had the time to work on them since well before you were born, but...” he leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially. “She used to be a street racer too!”

“WHAT!?” Mei exclaimed, covering her mouth when her father raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “Mom was a street racer?”

“One of the best, right around when she was your age too!” Mr. Long laughed, a far off look in his eyes. “You and her have a lot more in common than one would think at first glance. You’re smart, good with vehicles, not to mention our dragon powers are from her side of the family- I only earned my own through being close to her over a long period. Why, sometimes I think the only things you got from me were your skills in video games and amazing sense of hair style!”

“Dad!” Mei laughed, gently shoving her dad’s shoulder tentatively. When he only laughed more at that she softened, relaxing against the table. “Guess I have a lot to learn about you both, huh?

“As long as you want to,” her father offered, spreading the blueprints between the two of them.

"I do,” she agreed, looking over the papers again. They could definitely use some... fine tuning. But they were a good start. “But I guess I was right about one thing!”

“What’s that?”

“Every time someone saw you guys they thought you were the one to be worried about,” she admitted with another chuckle, shaking her head. “I’d always correct them saying ‘my father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of’ and now... well, if mom used to race the way I do on my bike I was way more right than I thought I was.”

“Oh, Mei, your mother was far more reckless than you ever were. You should have seen some of the catastrophes she used to cause.”

“... are they on the internet?”

Her father frowned for a moment before watching the door... and a conspiratorial smirk overtook his face.

“Want to find out together?”

[hadjalterdoneanythingwrong]

Hi!

I've been seeing a couple masterposts from other blogs on my dash lately, and I've been wanting to do this for a while, so...

My name is... constantly up for debate! Most Heroic Spirits call me Ritsuka, most non-Servants call me Carina, and Jeanne calls me a number of things each time I try to hold a conversation with her!

I'm one of... actually multiple Masters here in this particular timeline of Chaldea. I know how it usually goes in most timelines, but man, it never sank in how wildly different it is over here until pretty recently.

Here's me!

I'm not the most powerful mage in the world, and I'm far from the smartest Master. Really, I tend to let emotion judge everything I do. I'm kind of a mess and I have no idea how to talk to people. I guess I just consider myself lucky that "human decency" is leagues above the bar that other mages and Masters have historically set for all the Servants here!

Anyway, I've actually been here on tumblr for a while, but I've mostly been lurking in the shadows. People scare me! But a little while ago, I guess Jeanne got fed up with me being so hesitant... She actually told me to start joining Discord groups and making an effort to interact with more people!

So... here I am!

With this blog entirely dedicated to expressing my love and appreciation for this girl to the entire internet!

She actually kind of had a problem with it, at first, but... she later told me that as long as I don't "get too mushy" or reveal anything too embarrassing about her, everything's fine!

...I should've written up some kind of script for this, I'm just sort of spewing from the heart right now, ahaha...

In regards to visiting other worlds, I have to admit, I'm a little more experienced than I'd like to... well, admit. A few Heroic Spirits and I have been to quite a few different places; it's gotten to the point where some Servants have started speculating that I'm not even really from around here! It's kinda silly...

...buuuut I hope that I can make some new friends, now that I've discovered this... little conflux of timelines!

...also not the first time I've stumbled upon one of those, actually...

All I ask is for everyone following us to be patient with me. I don't have a lot of experience with talking to... anyone, really, and I'm always afraid I'll say something out of line, or that I'll start going off about something that was never that big of a deal to begin with. Roman's still trying to pin down what specifically is up with me mentally, and he doesn't exactly want to jump to any conclusions.

Other than that, I hope everyone enjoys the (almost) daily posts! And I hope I can spread the word of just how great Jeanne is~

And I'd be more than happy to answer any questions that anyone has about me or Jeanne or the timeline we're living in! ...as... long as Jeanne is okay with the particular question.

[ohmytheon]

heroes of the dark (2)

title: heroes of the dark

summary: Uraraka has spent almost a year grieving the loss of Deku, the greatest hero and her love, but life is slowly moving on. She's got her job, her family, and even a strange friendship with Bakugou. Things are looking hopeful. Until Deku comes back and he's not what he seems. Something is wrong with his mind, but Uraraka will be damned if she lets him fall again. (Villain!Deku)

– Chap 2: Deku is alive and Uraraka’s world is turned upside down.

notes: This chapter, in all honesty, is one of my favorite things that I've written. I don't know why, seeing as how it wounded me to write Deku like this. Poor Uraraka. A storm's coming and she's gotta deal with so much shit.

"You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

Deku had died. She'd watched his body crash into the cold, dark waves right after he'd hit the air hard enough to send her back up and keep her from following him. She had spent nearly eleven long months mourning and missing him. She'd screamed and cried, begged and raged, hollowed herself out and built herself back up again. How was he here? Why was he here? She wanted to run to him, throw her arms around him, never let him go.

She also wanted to get the hell out of here. Why?

"Did you miss me?" Deku asked, so calm and light.

"I…" Uraraka tried desperately to find her voice, but it felt as if it had been taken from her. "O-of course I missed you. There's not a day that went by that I didn't think of you."

"Is that so?" Deku's voice was little more than a murmur, beckoning her closer, but she didn't move. This wasn't real. She was dreaming. And if she wasn't dreaming, then this was some sort of trick. A villain with some sort of quirk to transform into someone else, like Toga from the League of Villains, but she'd been killed years ago.

Uraraka knew that she should react by defending herself, but instead found herself replying, "Yes! You died and I-I couldn't just let go of you. I couldn't just move on-"

"Oh, but you did, didn't you?" Deku stood from his seat, as if unfurling himself.

The power that radiated from him was enough to almost cause her knees to buckle, but she held her ground. What was happening? This wasn't him. This wasn't Deku. It couldn't be. He was dead. He was dead. He was here in her living room. It wasn't him and yet she knew that it was. She knew it was him like she knew her own quirk. Because he had been a part of her.

"I...don't…" Uraraka couldn't breathe.

Deku took four steps forward and then picked up the blanket on the couch, holding it between two fingers with a look of faint disdain on his face. It was such a strange look for him to wear. She'd never seen it before and it didn't line up with everything she'd loved about him. "Really, Ochako? Kacchan? I've got to confess: I didn't see that one coming."

It was the use of Bakugou's nickname that did her in. Kacchan. It was like an electric shock went from her head all the way down to her toes. It was him.

Tears sprung into her eyes. "Deku." She started trembling, unable to stop herself, as she thought about the nights she had dreamed that she would wake up and he would in the living room or kitchen like nothing had ever happened. But now he was here and she was afraid. "D-Deku, I-I-"

In a flash, Deku was in front of her (had he used his quirk?), a concerned expression on his face. She knew that face. She knew him. But even with his features smoothed into something that she recognized, he looked off. Maybe it was his eyes, those bright green eyes, like he was looking at her from not quite seeing her. "It's okay, Ochako, it's okay," he told her gently, cupping her face in his hands. She could feel the scars on his hand that he'd broken repeatedly at U.A. to become a hero. He brushed the tears away with his thumbs, as he had done so many times before. "I know, I know. It's a lot to take in."

She couldn't stop the tears if she tried and her knees finally buckled so she fell against him. He took her weight like it was nothing, leaning into her even further and pressing his forehead against hers. It even smelled like him. Leaning against him felt so familiar, like a part of her had come back home, that she wanted to bury herself in him and never come back up for air.

And yet she kept thinking about the way he was holding her face. His fingers were soft as he touched her skin and swiped at her tears, but they trembled every so slightly, like he was holding himself back. From what? It occurred to her that he could kill her with just an ounce of his power. All he had to do was squeeze a tiny bit and she would be dead. More dead than him apparently.

"Y-you were gone and I f-felt so l-lost without you," Uraraka cried. She had handled her world turning upside down once before; she didn't know if she could do it again. "This w-wasn't h-home."

"I'm here now," Deku told her in a soft voice. "I wanted to come back to you earlier. I really did." He sounded so earnest that it hurt her. "But I couldn't. I had work to do, you see, and they wouldn't let me."

Even though tears were still slipping down her cheeks and she was a sniveling mess, she lifted her head slightly so that she could look him in the eyes. They looked so wrong. "They...wouldn't let you?"

Deku sighed. "It was such a mess when I was brought in and, of course, they didn't trust me at first. I wouldn't have trusted me! But I showed them in time and they let me come back." He either didn't notice the confused look on her face or he didn't care. He was starting to ramble, a habit that he had never outgrown. She had loved him - did love him? - for it. "I had to see you again. I had to. It was all I could think about sometimes. You, in our bed, by yourself at night. Sitting at the counter alone. Rewatching our favorite movies. The thought of you here alone killed me and I couldn't stand thinking that you had no one…"

It had wounded her too. All those things had stung to the point where she'd begun to feel numb. It didn't feel the same without him here. The bed was too large, their favorite movies no longer entertaining, having to play the radio or turn on the news just to hear a voice while she ate. This had been their first place together, chosen by the both of them, and the apartment that she'd once loved had turned into a prison at times.

She was so caught up in agreeing with him that she didn't notice the sudden shift in Deku. His thumbs stopped brushing her cheeks, the smile faded from his face, and he tilted his head as he examined her. "You can imagine my surprise when I was told that you'd been seen with Kacchan multiple times. I couldn't believe it. Out of all our friends, him? Even after showing me pictures, I thought they had to be fake. And then I saw him leaving here this morning. I brought you flowers. I thought about making you breakfast and he'd already done it. I'd forgotten what a good cook he was. How thoughtful of him."

"He was just being friendly-"

"Since when has Kacchan ever been friendly?" Deku laughed and it was so cold that she had to fight the urge to shiver. He slid a finger from her cheek down under her chin, his eyes falling from hers down to her lips. "No, I know him. I know when he wants something and how he goes about taking it." His hand shifted as his thumb moved to caress her chapped lips. "But you're mine. I won't have him stepping in my shoes, in my bed, my home. This is my life. He can try to beat me at everything, but he won't win this."

Uraraka was at a loss for words. For as long as she could remember, Deku had never been the jealous type. Even before they had started dating, when she'd tried her best to get over her silly crush on him and see other people, he had never been angry about it. He'd confessed to being upset, but not at her. All he'd wanted for her was happiness and if that meant being with someone else because he was too shy or too busy, then he could handle it. He had been such a good friend. The relief when they'd first gotten together had been overwhelming, like they had both been waiting for that page to turn on their lives.

This felt so wrong. There was an undercurrent of rage under his words that her mouth dried up. It reminded her of Bakugou, although he never tried to hide it. He let everyone know what he was feeling whereas Deku tried to hide it so as to not be a burden. This wasn't him hiding his anger though. He was letting it course through him, like his One for All quirk.

"It's not your fault," Deku told her, making her mind spin. "Kacchan can be charming when he wants to be and you were in a vulnerable position. I should've come back to you sooner, but they wouldn't let me, so I tried to get your attention." A bright smile popped onto his face. "I thought, what would make Ochako happy? Getting rid of villains! There were a handful that we needed out of our way so we could expand and, sure, it would've made more sense to recruit them, but they were nothing compared to me. It worked out so perfectly. I got rid of them and it made you happy too."

"That…" Uraraka thought back. It was true that villains in her section had dropped significantly over the past few months and there hadn't been so much as a purse snatching in her neighborhood in so long. Maybe it wasn't the fact that villains were avoiding the area so much as they were being taken out of commission. "Deku, what did you do?"

"I killed them," Deku said cheerfully. "For you! Well, and for the others, but they were just a means to get me back to you."

Horror crept into Uraraka's bones, but when she tried to pull away, Deku's grip tightened on her without him even moving or changing his expression. It wasn't enough to hurt her, but she was afraid that if he went any further, he would leave bruises on her. She didn't understand. He kept saying "they" without explaining who "they" were, but she had a feeling that she already knew. And he'd killed villains? For her? For them?

"Where have you been?" Uraraka asked, trying her hardest to sound strong despite the fact that the ground underneath her was shaking. "Who are you talking about?"

Deku looked her over like he was checking for wounds, smoothing her hair down. "The League of Villains, silly. Well, two point O. We kind of crushed them before, didn't we?" He laughed brightly, tilting his head. "It's much better this time around, much stronger. They really know what they're doing. I finally feel like I belong. My power is mine."

This time, when Uraraka jerked away from him, he let her and she staggered into the countertop behind her, the marble digging into her lower back. The expression on his face was far too blank for comfort. It was like he was painting all those other emotions on his face when he deemed necessary and this was his true face. Nothing. Not a hint of who he was before.

"Who are you?" Uraraka demanded.

"You know who I am."

"The Deku I know and love wouldn't do anything like this," Uraraka told him.

Deku shrugged his shoulders. "That Deku drowned. This is who I was truly meant to be."

No, no, he was wrong. Uraraka shook her head violently, too shocked to cry anymore. Deku was meant to be a hero. He was meant to be a symbol of peace. He was going to become the greatest hero in the world. This Deku she couldn't understand or accept. When he reached out for her again, she slapped his hands away, but then he grabbed her by the wrists, this time hard enough to bruise, and jerked her against him even as she shouted at him to let her go.

He was stronger than her, always had been, but he'd never once used that against her before unless they were competing at school. The feeling of wrongness crept over her like inky black water, making her feel as if she was the one drowning now.

"I don't expect you to understand right away," Deku told her, his tender tone contrasting sharply with the way he was gripping her in a vise. "I'm not unreasonable. It took me time too." He smiled at her again, that smile that she had loved, the smile that made her tremble now. It wasn't him. "Just know that I love you and I will never leave you again. I won't let you get hurt."

She couldn't find it in her heart that he was hurting her now. She was lost in those eyes, threatened to be swallowed completely by how hollow they looked now that she was so close to his face. All she knew was that she had to say something or everything would go terribly wrong. She could feel herself standing on a precipice where if she took one wrong step she would be the one falling and she was scared that he'd be the one to push her over.

"I-I love you too," Uraraka whispered and she did. She had loved him and she did love him and she would always love him.

But this wasn't him.

His grip on her tightened for a second and then loosened, but instead of letting her go, Deku cupped her face again and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. Even though she knew it was wrong and that everything was shattered into pieces, for a brief moment, she let herself revel in it. She let her hands rest lightly against his chest, the steady beat of his heart telling her that he was alive, and despite the tears on her face and lips, he clung to her like she was a breath of fresh air and she missed him something terrible.

When the moment was over and Deku pulled away from her, Uraraka could only stare at him in horror. He looked so unimaginably happy, just as he had been the day they'd first moved in here.

Deku stroked her cheek, focusing on the pink spots, and then reached past her to grab something on the counter, the length of his firm body pressed up against hers as he ignored her personal space. "I know the first person you're going to tell is Kacchan - and while I'm disappointed, I understand you'll need someone aggressively strong - so let me help you get the point across." She heard the scratching marks of pen on paper and watched Deku's face out of the corner of her eyes as he left his mark. When he was done, he set the pen down and fully pulled away from her, leaving her swaying on the spot.

"Where…?" Uraraka had to speak. Her mind was screaming at her to pull herself together, but she could barely move, much less talk. "Where are you going?"

"Back to work," Deku answered. "There's a lot to be done."

She wanted to throw up. Back to work. Back to the new League of Villains. Deku, her Deku… She clenched her fists at her side, but nothing happened. Part of her wanted to smack him and activate her quirk on him, but she had a feeling that whatever was holding him together would fall apart at the seams if she did. Then, despite his promise, he would hurt her. She didn't know. She couldn't risk it when she felt like everything she'd known was wrong.

"See you soon, Ochako," Deku promised before simply walking out the front door, like it was just another morning and he was off to the hero agency he worked at. Except he wasn't going to where heroes went. He was going back to villains and darkness and shadow.

Uraraka stood in place for a terribly long time, trembling and holding her hands over her mouth so that she either wouldn't cry or scream. She wasn't sure which one would come out. Finally, she dragged her eyes to look back at the counter and saw what Deku had written on the note Bakugou had left her earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago, another world away, like she'd woken up and fallen into an alternate universe. But seeing Bakugou's scratchy writing next to Deku's careful one confirmed that this was her reality now.

Tears welled up in Uraraka's eyes again when she saw Deku's note and a muffled whimper of "No" tumbled out of her lips from behind her hands.

Deku was alive. He was alive. Her dream had come true - and it turned out to be a nightmare.

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

19 - Clean Canvas

This chapters songs:

Here She Comes; Slowdive

Dog Cuddles; Dad Sports

Dream Girl; Crisaunt

- Y. L. Perspective

I tapped my chin with the pen, frustrated that you weren't able to come up with anything. "Ah! Koshi, that hurt!" I yell at him as he softens his hands upon my shoulders. He was giving me a gentle back massage while I tried writing my first lyrics, but I was struggling to find the right words to say.

"Sorry!" He then stops squeezing my shoulders, letting his hands slide down my torso, and pull me into a hug from behind. His head nuzzled into my neck as he spoke. "What is the song about?"

I shrug. "I don't even know yet. Maybe I should just write about how much of an untalented and wasteful girl I am!" I scoff, rolling my eyes back. Now, out of all moments, my feelings decide to disappear.

Both Koshi and I say criss-cross on his bed with one single lamp on in his room. His room was not at all what I was expecting. I'd perceived it to be much messier in my head, the way an average teenage boys' room would be. But no! It was spotless and quite basic. Still, I felt very comfortable in his arms as I attempted to write down some ideas. Feeling his heartbeat on my back was enough to make me feel at home.

"Why don't you write about us, Y/n?" He asks me as he pulls me back and forth in a sway motion. The suggestion had already popped into my mind before. But if I could write about it, what would I say? How I'm in love with someone who won't tie the knot between us?

'What am I doing at his house if he's not even my boyfriend? I've got to gain some self-respect.'

Perhaps bringing it up wouldn't be as bad as I thought. So, I pull myself away from his arms and sit in front of him, fully staring at his confused face.

"What is it?" His fair voice questions, one of his fingers attempting to fiddle with my oversized t-shirt.

There was so much to say. Why arent you my boyfriend yet? Why won't you tell me what's on your mind for once? Aren't you excited about the training camp? But I decide to pick the first question. "Koshi, what's there to write about? I...I know that we both like each other very much, but what does it matter if you won't call me your girlfriend?" I look down at the grey shorts I wore, afraid that he would be disappointed in me for wanting more from him.

"I didn't know you felt that way. I guess...I guess I just wanted you to feel comfortable around me, not forced to be with me," Koshi mutters under his breath, ashamed he underestimated my love for him.

"Well of course I want to be with you!" I exclaim, leaning my head onto his chest. It worries me that he felt insecure about his love. It wasn't as if he could be giving me too much affection. So why didn't he trust that I loved him?

I sigh while he rubs my back in a circular motion, wishing he would tell me things that bothered him like this. "So you wouldn't mind being my girlfriend, Y/n?" The man's words are clear to me when he said them, not lagged like all the other times.

I nod my head. "Of course not."

"Hm, okay. Then for our first memory of being a couple, I wanna hold you," Koshi says, laying us both down onto his mattress. He leans over me, stretching to grab one of the blankets on his shelf, and unfolding it over us.

"But it's so cold. Why don't we just go under your comforter?" I ask him, pulling slightly at the corner of the thick bed sheet. But he denies my request and pulls my wrist back.

He says, "Uh-Uh-Uh! I prefer it to be cold. When we go to your house, we can use the comforter. If you're that cold then you're gonna have to hug me tighter."

I'm surprised at how stubborn Koshi was being with me but glad he was becoming more comfortable with sharing his opinion. He treated me like a princess most of the time instead of asking for what he really wants. Even if it was just the matter of a blanket.

"Do you wanna help me try and think of something to write about?" I ask him in the most delicate voice.

"What's something that saddens you, Y/n? Something that you're worried will cause you despair towards the future?" Koshi asks me. I genuinely hadn't thought about it yet. "Love is more than just feelings. I think it comes with a lot of pain. Has there ever been any pain that you've encountered during being in love?"

"Not really." My words couldn't be more honest. With Toruku, I felt sick that I had a crush on my best friend's boyfriend. And when she passed, those feelings for him weren't nearly as strong as the ones I felt about her death. As for Koshi, I've only been scared of the pain. But I hadn't endured it yet. At least that was what I thought. Truth is that every lasting second I spent with him could only cause me more and more pain in the future. "Maybe when I find what to write about, I shouldn't tell you. I should let you figure it out when I'm done with it."

"Planning something behind my back?! How evil of you." Koshi jokes, leaning on one of his elbows to hold himself up as he looked at me. With the pale moonlight shining down on him and the lamp lighting the room up slightly, he looked more beautiful than ever. I was glad that I was the one to be able I witness such an ethereal moment with him. Especially since he held me in a special place. I was his first love, after all. That's more important than any relationship he could have had with previous girls.

Attempting to obtain reassurance, I grow curious and begin to play with my new boyfriend, asking small questions. "So...what does it feel like to have sex with a girl, Kou? I've never done that before... do they smell nice? Are they soft?" It was obvious that I'd caught him off guard, for he stuttered and looked at me strangely. "I promise I won't get jealous if you tell me. I only want to know what it's like. It may help me with writing if you tell me about passionate moments like that."

Given that I'd never done anything that was borderline sexual with anyone else, I was curious about how it felt. Both physically and mentally.

"Uhm—stressful. And I haven't done it as much as you might think, so I haven't ever enjoyed it." It comes to me as a shock that he didn't have a slightly good experience that he could tell me about.

"Wh-really?! But...I thought all guys liked it! You're saying it didn't even feel good?" I waft my hand into the cold air, confused.

"No, silly. Of course it felt good, but it wasn't as passionate as you think. I wasn't ever in love with any of those girls, so it only made me feel worse. Sex isn't good for those who aren't ready for it," he explains to me.

I nod, understanding a bit more of what he meant. "Does that mean you weren't ready?"

"Mhm. I wasn't," he says. Deciding to switch up the question, he asks me, "So, what is it like to have sex with a guy? I bet they aren't very good-smelling, are they?"

I blink a few times. "Uhm, I dunno," I say, growing shy at the question. "I haven't ever...you know...had sex."

Too scared to look at Koshi, I stuff my head into a pillow and sigh obnoxiously. Though I knew he wouldn't make that much of a big deal out of it, I didn't want him thinking I was a prude. A lot of people that knew I was a virgin made fun of me for it. Truth was, I'd never found someone worthy of taking my virginity. Many told me that it was horrible for your mental health, especially for younger people like me. Not to mention how scared I was that whoever took my virginity would be rough with me and it would hurt like hell.

"Hey, hey...don't get all embarrassed on me. A lot of people haven't. That's nothing to be ashamed about. Being a virgin doesn't make you any less of a woman. If it were up to me, I'd go back and stay a virgin until the right time," Koshi states. His attempts to cheer me up were sweet, but not working all that much.

"What do you think, Kou? Do you like me better that way? You know, as a virgin?" I ask him, slightly peeking up at his lost expression.

Yes, it was something very awkward to ask. But I did want to know what he preferred. Not that I would be able to change last second if he didn't like me as I was.

"Th—that isn't something I have power over, so I don't think about it. But...you could say I prefer it."

I'm happy with his answer. Still, I was curious about the reason, so I ask, "and why is that?"

"Well...um...I'm not too sure. Not to jump to any conclusions, but think it's because...if you weren't a virgin, then our first time together wouldn't be as memorable. It's sure is selfish of me to say, but I would rather you remember me as someone who shared that moment with you. That's why I wish I would have waited until I met you," Koshi began to grow flustered towards the end of his explanation.

"And if you wanna put it into a metaphor then you could say that being a virgin is like being a blank canvas. You can only hope that someone will make something lovely of you by the time they're finished."

I haven't ever heard someone describe being a virgin in such a beautiful way. And he was right— the first time is always something you remember. That is if it's enjoyable for you. I could only hope that I would lose my virginity to someone as gentle as him.

"Then when the time comes, could you please be that person, Koshi?" I spoke, laying a hand on his chest. My nervous nature was far too obvious for me to hide. But thankfully, Koshi didn't mind it. He knew asking something like that took courage. Such profound questions weren't something to joke about.

My heart race died down when I hear him tell me, "Of course, love."

Koshi quickly gets up to turn off the lamp and I make myself more comfortable under the thin blankets and many pillows he had on his bed. When he comes back, he wraps his arms around my waist and holds me close near him.

It was no wonder that he didn't like to talk about his previous experiences with girls. He hadn't enjoyed them. But I was sure of it: and day, I'll make it up to Koshi.

"Goodnight, love. Maybe tomorrow you'll come up with something to write about, hm?"

"Yeah, goodnight." With one last kiss on the cheek, Koshi and I doze off to sleep.

-

Hey everyone!! Just so you know, I have a special playlist on my Spotify that I made just for this fanfiction. I always add the songs that I include in the chapters, so please go check that out in case you'd like to listen while reading!!

I love you always!! Thank you for reading I do appreciate it <3 make sure to take care of yourself

AND PLS VOTE >:(

- estrxlar

[ganymedesclock]

Hi! Im a big fan of your metas and I wanted your opinion in something I was looking at the paladin quiz in the official site and in the "deepest fear" question Keith's answer is feelings. I don't really think this is right, Lance's answer (losing) seems more accurate for Keith. But what do you think?

I’ve heard mixed input on the “paladin quiz” and not sure how I feel about it myself (part of it is I haven’t experienced it personally) but I think “feelings” could make sense for Keith.

Not necessarily in that he’s afraid of feeling, but, getting close to anyone in any sense, platonic or romantic, is a very scary prospect for someone who’s both starved for affection and terrified of isolation. I’ve talked before but I feel like in Keith there’s the conflicting impulse to try and not get too attached to people because he’s a defeatist who assumes they’ll leave eventually and he doesn’t want to be hurt when it happens- and also this powerful urge to attach to people as much as possible because he so badly wants to feel loved in any sense.

He’s clingy but terrified of being clingy, can’t bear people leaving but has a massive amount of learned helplessness in that regard. So, yeah, I can see “feelings” read as “feelings of solidarity and companionship with other people” qualifying as Keith’s deepest fear- because it means the world to him but at the same time, precisely for that reason, it’s been at the root of virtually every trauma he’s experienced. So, yeah, I can imagine Keith realizing he really cares about someone in either a romantic or platonic sense being met with a certain pit of dread in his stomach because oh god, what is he going to do when they leave.

Keith is a defeatist about abandonment. I think there’s something to be said that Keith’s trauma has had a consistent presence in his life and a very powerful one specifically when he was very young. There’s a kind of established pattern to Keith that tells him when someone is leaving, he can’t stop it, he can’t help it. Even when he doesn’t want it to happen, even as capable and otherwise confident as he may be- we see this with both of the holograms in the Trial of Marmora.

With Shiro- even when he refuses to give up the weapon, the absolutely heartbroken way he calls after Shiro but doesn’t actually try to run to him or stop him, even though there’s nothing holding him back. With his father, it’s easy for Keith to give up on seeing his parents again. Again, it hurts him a lot, but that reunion that he so desperately wants is relatively easy to overlook just because on some level... he can’t believe it. He can’t actually believe these people would want to come back for him, that he could actually make a decision to stop being lonely. 

There’s rare exceptions to Keith’s defeatist attitude. Consider the way he blew up at Pidge for abandoning Voltron, but, even then, it seeps through: Keith never once actually expresses the real reason he’s upset at her leaving- that he’s grown attached to her emotionally. He tries to make his appeal exclusively out of logic, necessity, because Keith has an attitude that his feelings and value in other people’s eyes is not enough to make them stay. It never is.

This might even be part of why he suggested they shouldn’t try to rescue Allura- after all his perspective was pretty clearly that if they tried they’d fail. Since when has he been able to stop someone from disappearing from his life? And now his friends want to charge into obviously unfavorable odds because somehow they think this time they’ll make it?

Basically, Keith doesn’t even realize he has a pretty warped perspective when it comes to himself, other people, and personal autonomy. He assumes this is actually how the world works, that somehow all the teamwork and solidarity speeches- on some level, don’t really count if they’re talking about him. 

As far as Lance and losing, I think of that in the context of losing a competition and I think about like... Lance has a major insecurity problem but he’s not passively mired in it. Unlike Keith, I feel like this has not been a consistent issue in Lance’s life, or an oppressive one. It’s one that comes and goes, creeps in the back door from time to time- familiar to Lance, and probably a lasting fixture, but offset by friends and family that adore him, input to the contrary, that you’re not a failure, you’re not useless, you have talents and a place here.

Lance talks up a lot of self love, and part of it feels kind of “fake it till you make it”. He seems aware that he’s predisposed to not thinking rationally about this, and we see him kind of argue it out with himself when he is feeling insecure. “They wouldn’t have me on the team if I didn’t contribute something.” The fact that he’s actively trying to hunt for and identify his good qualities.

Even when Laika seems to concur flatly and without hesitation with his insecure thoughts, Lance responds to that critically, “You don’t have to agree with me that quickly.”

He knows it’s here. He knows it’s not rational, or fair. Even with people he considers rivals or is jealous of, he can be fair about them. He’ll bicker with Keith but when given the opportunity to potentially blacken his name to a stranger, Lance instead talks him up, about how cool he is and talented and do you know he flew into an asteroid field that one time, he’s always doing stuff like that.

And I’m a filthy shipper and you know how I’m taking that, but even slicing it from a purely platonic perspective, Lance knows that jealousy sours a bit of his perspective towards Keith and unless actively set off, his instinct is to prop up his friend.

But back to the whole losing thing- Lance is more or less engaged in deep internal conflict with his insecurity. He doesn’t want to give in, he doesn’t want to let it rule his behavior, he especially doesn’t want it to hurt his interpersonal connections. And I feel like the main way Lance tries to fight his lack of self-worth? Is by trying to quantify his achievements.

I’ve mentioned before that I think it’s very significant Allura skipped the Blue Paladin virtues, and she did so because Lance took the opportunity to try and butter himself up. It’s a small thing and I would not be surprised if Allura and everyone else more or less forgot about it- but to Lance and his internal conflict, that means quite a bit, and would be something that lingers with him.

But not passively, because- well, all the paladins have something! What is he good at? He’s a good shot. He can quantify that- he can practice, he can familiarize himself with his bayard, and best of all, he can do this privately. He’s clever, he can figure this out, he doesn’t need to bug the team, he doesn’t need to make his insecurity everyone else’s problem because at its root, he’s not being fair to himself and he doesn’t want to be That Guy and fish for praise. Is he, in fact, hungry for compliments? Absolutely, but he’ll downplay it, make it a joke, make it “Local Boy Is Gloating Again”

But privately, it’s incredibly important to Lance to quantify his progress. As objectively as possible- and what possible better way to do that than competing?

If he can find his name up on that board, if he made fighter class- then he’s winning. Hasta la later insecurity, Lance is good at what he does, science has spoken. If he can one-up Keith, who was the best pilot in his class, who was the Garrison’s golden boy- he’s winning. 

(And yet, he’s too compassionate to completely enjoy if his winning comes at Keith’s expense- if he promotes to the fighter class because Keith was expelled from the Garrison. The other side, I think, of his discomfort occupying “someone else’s spot” for personal gain, outside of it fueling his insecurity because he’s just a spare tire to these people)

So why would he be scared of losing? Because if Lance puts himself out there, if he competes somehow, and loses- if his objective source of reassurance isn’t so reassuring- then he slips. Then even if it’s a minor thing, even if it’s a fluke, even if he’s gonna get it next time- his insecurity is right next to him slamming pots together chanting “DEATH AND DISHONOR”

It seems like a way bigger deal than it is and even if externally he tries to laugh it off, it’ll eat at him, big time. And he’s slightly resistant reaching out to outside forces because Lance this is dumb it was literally one tiny mistake it was totally insignificant can you not make a massive deal out of everything for once in your life oh my god

I say “slightly”, because- again, even if he’s probably somewhat ashamed- knowing it’s irrational, knowing it’s silly, knowing he is not a seventh wheel- there’s still the fact that Lance seems to have come from a loving supporting family and overwhelmingly, against his reflex of “this is irrelevant and I should probably deal with it on my own” there is a tide of experiences that say people care about him and want to help him. If someone asks him “is everything all right?” that they actually want to hear it, and isn’t just making idle conversation.

It might be scary to Lance, unprompted, to sit down and talk to the team about “so hey I maybe have a chronic insecurity problem.” But if he’s feeling lonely or down or scared, or it comes up, and someone pursues that thread, it takes very little for Lance to open up. I think the trick is just he wants some small outside confirmation that “it’s okay, I’m here and I want to listen” because part of it is, see Lance removing himself from the party when he got homesick in s1e4- he doesn’t want to bring other people down by burdening them with his troubles, since he has a pretty keen sense when other people are stewing in it and usually wants to help others with their problems.