#whoops i might have taken scenarios too far

[bump1nthen1ght]

Woo glad to see you back with the drabbles and one shots! I have a request for a pretty fun drabble or one shot scenario, this may also be pretty specific so sorry about that if you don’t like it :)

So what about a scenario between a very determined Shadow ghost/Sleep paralysis demon and a reader who just simply has zero reactions to anything scary? Like the reader just moved into this home that’s being secretly inhabited by the ghost/demon and said being wants to try and get the reader to leave so it begins to do everything in its power to scare them away however they quickly find out that no matter what scary tactic they try the reader just.. does not react, they sorta just shrug it off and continue with their day casually. And like it escalates into this one sided rivalry all the way up until the reader finally discovers the ghost/demon and instead of being scared away they simply begin to talk to it and try to get along with it and then whoops! the ghost/demons feelings of disdain and rivalry start growing into something a lot more affectionate and fond!

Again apologies if this is too specific I’ve had this idea rocking around in my brain for a little while- Have a nice day/night!

Sure thing anon! I do love some pining and some shadow demons 😈

Gender Neutral! Reader x Shadow Demon (they/them) under the cut!

For the first time in their very long life, Barbas has a rival.

Not that this rival knows who they are, or even seems to care about their many battles. That's probably what makes the rivalry so fierce, why it boils Barbas so much to even think about you.

They’ve built up a solid repertoire of scare tactics, forged over years with fairy tales, monster movies, and scary bedtime stories all acting as inspiration. It's why their house, their beautiful house, had never been sold up to this point. Barbas much enjoyed the system formerly in place; some dumb teenageres would come and try to prove their might, Barbas would pull out some creepy voices and moving shadows, and they’d run away screaming and warning others to stay away. The particularly bold ones, those egging others on to enter the haunted place, then received a proper night of nightmares and paralysis.

Until you showed up.

It was already a risky move, buying such a dilapidated house with a reputation; Barbas respected that about you. At first, anyway.

Such a reputation is why they started small with their spooks. Ominously opening doors, darting shapes in the shadows, and flickering lights. When you barely paid attention to those Barbas escalated to moving items, slamming the refrigerator shut, even whispering while you sleep. Once again, no response.

Barbas enjoyed a good scare, but they weren’t cruel. As much as your indifference irked them, they didn’t think a night of sleep paralysis was due. No, if anything you could explain that away with the stress of the move, so they needed to truly scare you. Throw dishes off the counter, knock over furniture, and maybe slip a bit of a paranoia in your dreams.

And still, nothing.

This is when they started getting frustrated. What, did you have no survival instinct? No sense of urgency? They were pulling out all the stops here and you didn’t even have the decency to pretend you were scared! You’d just re adjust your chairs, sweep up the broken plates, and make sure to not eat before bed to prevent the nightmares.

So they were reduced to more direct, tacky, methods. Barbas almost balked at how far they had fallen as they wrote an ominous “LEAVE” on your fogged up bathroom mirror. This was so below them.

They hide in the shadow of a corner as you step out of your shower, averting their gaze until they're sure you’ve put on your fluffy robe. The peak open one eye, noticing how you scrunch up your face at the message.

Not even a scream, what is going ON?!

But then you lean forward, drawing letters on the mirror.

Hello? Who is this?

Barbas is taken aback, seeing how you go back to putting on lotion, eyes only glancing to see if there is a response. Throwing up a shroud of invisibility, they write back.

I’m the rightful owner of this house.

Your eyebrows shoot up as you see them writing in the mirror, words appearing from nothing.

I’m sorry. I just bought this place, I didn’t realize someone still lived here.

An apology. That was new.

You go to write more, but think twice and then run to your room. You come back with a notepad and pen, sitting on the toilet and clicking the ballpoint.

Can you write here? What's your name?

Barbas shifts, leaning over your shoulder. Usually this is the part where they lay a ghostly hand on the back of your neck, and you jump up and scream.

Instead, Barbas grabs the pen and writes. Your eyes wide , seeing the pen move on its own.

My name is not important. Why are you still here?

They set the pen in your hand.

Like I said, I just bought this house. I can’t just leave. Am I bothering you?

Barbas stops at that, pen floating in the air as they think of a response.

You weren’t…really bothering them that much. You didn’t stay up too late and bring a bunch of people over, you kept things relatively clean, you listened to decent music. You even brought some interesting knick knacks with you which Barbas had taken a liking to look at. They’d been in one place for so long it was nice to see things from all over the world. You’d asked them their name and asked if you did something to upset them, when all this time it was Barbas who was inconveniencing you.

Not particularly. They settle on as response

Ok, then you don’t mind me staying? You won’t break any more of my dishes?

Barbas feels a flush of embarrassment, like they’re the petulant child and you’re the rational adult whose “not mad, just disappointed.”

No.

Ok.

You set the notepad down on the side of the bathroom sink, sitting up with a sigh. Your face is still tangled with thought, patting your cheek as you look down at the writing. Barbas peaks over, noticing how comically murdery their handwriting looks. But then you grab the pen and begin writing again.

If you need anything, just write it here. I’ll make sure to keep it where I can see it.

You hold up the page, showing it off in a circle to make sure they see it. Barabas nods, even though they know that means nothing at the moment.

I’m going to go watch a movie. You’re free to join me, if you want.

With a satisfactory nod, you grab the notebook and walk out of the bathroom, making a pit stop to put the notebook on the kitchen table before hesding into your room to change.

Things just keep getting weirder.

—--

Barbas doesn’t write to you that night, even when you leave the notebook on the coffee table while you watch your movie. Even though the movie is really good, even though the mystery ends on a cliffhanger and Barbas wants to hear your theories. They just linger, sitting in the chair opposing your sofa, and observe.

You go about your everyday life the same, a little more aware of their presence but keeping your habits regular. You clean, you work, exercise, then relax.

But now you keep Barbas in your mind, often leaving them small notes.

Do you want me to turn on a movie while I’m gone? I wasn’t sure if you know how to work the remote?

How’d you like my music? What's your favorite song?

I have too much lasagna leftover, do you want some? Can you eat that?

What books do you like?

Barbas tried to keep their distance with simple yes or no answers. But your pestering empathy and understanding is quickly wearing down their walls. No, they didn’t know how the remote works, thank you for teaching them. Yes, they would like some lasagna, because your cooking always smells amazing.

Their answers become longer, more frequent as time goes on. You’re so curious about this roommate you’ve never seen, it's too damn endearing. Maybe they could brush it off as human curiosity, but then you go and remember stuff about them.

There's some of that iced tea in the fridge. Feel free to drink some, you like it more than I do.

That movie you loved was in the dollar bin at the store. I got it so you can just rewatch in the DVR rather than logging into my Xbox.

I got this new peach candle, want me to burn it in the living room for you?

You’re just so damn nice and so funny and so damn cute-

Gods, how could Barbas not start liking you?

—

It came to head with the movie nights. While the both of you had left longer notes throughout the day it was during the evening when you would have full conversations. Barbas had left many pages full of reviews and opinions when you’d watch certain flicks (Especially horror), so much so that you had begun just talking out loud during the movie and letting Barbas respond on the notepad.

They still hadn’t revealed their true form, though they had begun sitting closer and closer to you on the couch. The cushion would dent and goosebumps would raise on your skin, your senses knowing that someone was there, though you couldn’t see them directly. If you had noticed, you hadn’t said anything, which was a relief for Barbas.

Because it was getting really hard not to hug you.

It was already difficult not staring at you, especially when they know you wouldn’t notice. But the way you talk with your hands, gesticulating here and there was just so charming. They’d get to see your eyes light up when you could tell them a piece of trivia, or a funny story about when you watched this movie with friends. Your eyes would crinkle up as you laugh, your smile subtle but cute.

Barbas wasn’t sure if they had even seen a human like this before, so up close and personal. It's probably for the best, because all those silly little things are driving Barbas a little wild.

And sometimes, sometimes your wandering gaze lands on where they are hidden, even though you don’t realize. In those moments Barbas feels like you’re talking, really talking to them, and its overwhelming.

You’re on the second movie of the might, something light and funny as you yawn more and more. The conversation has slowed down, you snuggled into the blankets with a halfway-sleep gaze. Barbas sits on the other edge of the couch, consciously aware of how you sink into the cushions, slowly leaning to their side as you contemplate laying down. You rub your eyes and gosh why do you have to be darn cute.

“This movie isn’t great.” You mutter, rolling your neck. “I like this director and the premise is good, but honestly I feel like it could’ve been funnier if they actually put effort in it. What do you think?” You say, right before looking Barbas directly in the eye.

Or, thats what it seems like. What's more likely is that your stretching out your neck and happened to glance to their side of thr couch, not knowing that they sit right beside you. You look down for the notepad a second later, waiting for their response. Barbas sits still, unmoving.

Is this what it felt like? To like being around someone? To chat with them, eye to eye, about the little things?

“I concur, It’s certainly lacking something.”

Barbas says, their warped voice sounding more monstrous than ever.

This time you actually do look at them, right into all six of their bright red eyes. Their legs hang over the couch, knees hitting the top of the coffee table. The movie plays on, unnoticed as you take in their void-like face, seams running up the side of their smile where they can unhinge it enough to swallow a watermelon. Their long, too long arms, laying over the arms of the couch.

They dig their claws into the fabric, trying to hide how their fingers shake. Gods, they bet their face is so flushed right now.

A comical explosion goes off on screen, the main character shouting a joke thats desperately trying to be relevant to pop culture.

“Like right there! Who even wrote that, a 14 year old taking their first improv class?” You point to the TV. “No hate to 14 year olds, but even they have more respect for comedic craft than this.”

“It’s true, the teenagers who used to come here for dares made me laugh all the time.” Barbas nods “Mostly because they had ridiuclous sounding screams, but that was unintentional. Some of them had real zingers.”

“Oooh tell me more. I think we need some genuine comedy.”

Barbas wracks their brain for something good, the need for a good first impression. “Well, one-time, this guy came with his girl as a dare. Big group of people and he was clearly trying to make this girl laugh, he was a real class clown type, and so he started with-” Barbas chuckles, remembering the desperation on the 15 year olds face to look cool, “ ‘Do we want to start with ghost-hunting or some drinks? Either way, I’m excited for some boos.’”

You guffaw, slapping their shoulder in disbelief as you giggle. “I thought you said these were zingers!”

“Oh no that was terrible, the look on his face when nobody laughed was the funny part.”

“ Oh my god, you’re terrible.”

Barbas shoots a finger guns, remembering how suave a TV character looked when he did it. “I’m a demon, it comes with the job description.”

“Oooh I’m so scared, this is coming from ‘ I can’t watch Titanic, it will make me cry.’”

“Those two only had each other! What monster doesn’t cry?”

“If you say so, dork.”

You pat their shoulder again, the same way all those teenagers did when their crush was acting a fool. Barbas feels their two hearts racing again.

You joke and poke fun at the movie and Barbas feels the weight of nerves slide off their shoulders. The exhausting fear of wondering how you would react to their true form, this monster made to instill fear and look wrong, when they had gotten so attached.

Its just like the notes, but now you see them, can touch them, can laugh with them.

The credits begin to roll and you let out another long yawn.

“Want to watch something actually funny before we go to bed? I think the lead voice is gonna haunt my dreams if not.”

Barbas doesn’t actually sleep, but doesn’t correct you and nods. You lean over the coffee table to grab the remote, your knee brushing against theirs. Their hearts thud in their chest

As the intro to the sitcoms plays you lay back down, resting your weight on their shoulder and snuggling in.

Barbas feels their chest constrict, nearly purring when you rub your eyes and looks so damn cute.

“I really like you.” You mumble, 10 minutes into the episode.

Barbas is lost for words, brain only catching up a minute later, but by then they hear you begin to snore. They look down at you, face all pressed up as you rest on their shoulder. The domesticity can’t help but make them smile.

“I like you too, ___”

Barbas whispers.

They wait for you to fall asleep, hearing your heart slightly slow and your breathing to even out. Not wanting to wake you up teleporting, they carried you to your room, tucking you in. You cuddle into the covers, not unlike how you did to their shoulder.

Gods, so cute.

Barbas spends time admiring you, trying to justify that as a Sleep Demon, its not that creepy.

Only then does it occur to them.

Shit, I never told them my name.

[klaroline-overdose]

New trashy Klaroline and Darklina AU crossover fanfiction drop

So here's the thing, since Shadow and Bone premiered on Netflix I got a little obsessed with all the Klaroline and Darklina parallels.

It got into the point that I even started a crossover crack fanfic Klaroline X Darklina.

I wrote this for my personal scenarios and fun, so I won't be posting on fanfiction.net or AO3. I've never read the grisha books and I completely ignore the originals show existence and its characters, except for Davina and Marcel ofc.

It's not beta proofed, but it's 21k long and i don't know if I ever will be able to finish it due to work.

THAT BEING SAID, I think it's a hilarious old tvd Klaus x Caroline fic and the interactions with Alina x Darkling are just pure gold so that's why I'm sharing with you. Here's the link for reading it. Don't take it serious, it's purely for entertainment.

Tldr: Bonnie uses a crazy spell to stop Mikael and it causes Klaus and Caroline to be taken to the grishaverse.

@howeverlongs Paula my love I tried really hard to finish it and because of your support as usual I'm putting it here. Hope you have fun 💗

If you guys have any problems with the link let me know!

[strawberrysurecake]

Hey! I love your bucci gang tsundere headcanons! If you have time, how would the gang react if their crush was being flirted with by another member of the team or an outsider? Who would be subtle about their jealousy? Who would react in anger? Would anyone confess right then?

Thanks for the ask, anon! As always, I couldn't help myself and went a little overboard again. I thought it'd be more fun if I made up some specific scenarios for each.

If you'd like, you can view these headcanons as a continuation or alternate universe to these headcanons. It really depends how deep you want the tsundere lore to go.

Also, I seem to be writing Trish as more of a himedere than a tsundere. Whoops?

Jealous Tsundere Bucci Gang + Trish Headcanons

I had to be careful to not let them stray into yandere territory. I don't think we mortals are ready for tsundere-yanderes.

Giorno

He can very well see how Passione's newest recruit has taken a liking to you

Bolder than the average soldato, this newbie has the audacity to flirt with you, his commanding capo, in front of him, Don Giorno Giovanna

He looks on with contempt as your soldato's lips brush against your knuckles before bidding you farewell

Once his freshly-dubbed rival in love leaves his sight, he places his hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the passenger seat of his luxury Maserati

"I hope you don't mind a change of plans. There's a place I'd like to take you to that serves excellent soufflé. My treat."

It's a bit much to have brunch at an uptown 5-star restaurant but he desperately needs to show how capable and powerful he is as not only the boss of Passione but as a man, also

He's not jealous; he just needs to show who's in charge, is all...

Bucciarati

A fellow gangster from the tax collection team has been spending too much quality time with you

Passione's squads rarely intermingled beyond business but after a brief job involving you as an escort for the tax collection team, you have become inseparable from that wretched gangster ever since

It doesn't bother him

It doesn't bother him

It doesn't bother him

He hears your cute laughter over a stupid joke the tax gangster made

It does bother him

"I believe you've overstayed your welcome with the escort team. Shall I escort you back to where you belong?"

His jealousy is so obvious that it becomes easy material for you to tease him about for weeks to come

"I wasn't jealous!"

Mista

He has been feeling suspiciously energised, lately

On top of that, the Pistols have been eerily quiet

It's only when he checks his empty revolver during afternoon tea does he understand the horror of what's going on

The unsettling feeling in his stomach leads him across the hideout and to your door where he can faintly catch the whines of Number 3 and 5 and the crinkling of foil

When you allow him entry to your room, he is mortified to catch his Stand snuggling up to you with a bag of corn chips

You insinuate that he's jealous of his own Stand but that would be ridiculous

"Me? Jealous of my own Stand!? No! Never!"

Maybe he was being too obvious with his reaction as you've jokingly offered to hand-feed him snacks

The entire situation exasperates him

"Fine. You can feed the Pistols but don't complain when they bug you for more food later on, yeah?"

Narancia

Though it might not seem like it at times, he genuinely looks up to and respects his teammates as friends, comrades and family

However, there's this sudden urge to go ballistic whenever he sees his teammates get a little too touchy-feely with you

It grates on his nerves whenever Fugo leads you to your car seat with his hand nestled on your shoulder

It's not just Fugo who gets touchy but also Mista and even Giorno, too

He swears they're trying to fuck with him

As soon as Giorno is about to lay his palm over your hand, he swoops in like a hawk and pulls you someplace quiet and far away from the team

There is no platonic explanation for his actions so he stumbles over his words while coming up with an excuse

Confessing would be so much more simpler but he can't bring himself to do it today

"I-I just w-wanted to give you something..."

He gifts you his switchblade then runs off before you can catch his reddened expression

Abbacchio

Of all the men he thought could make him jealous, he never thought it would be a local nobody you met in a library once

There is nothing extraordinary about this man; he works a stable 9-5 job in a boring office complex and he looks utterly unremarkable

Despite that, he can't help but envy the man

If he stayed an uncorrupted police officer, would he be the one by your side, making you laugh and laughing wholeheartedly alongside you?

He wants to shut out this developing relationship you have out of his mind but it persists to haunt him

He doesn't know what your relationship with that man is but he does know he wants to take you out for dinner sometime to prove himself

His invitation over the phone has no mention of it being a date but he intends to make it feel like one

Over dinner, he realises you laugh and smile a lot more around him than with that other man

He might not be what you deserve but being with you does make him smile and laugh more often too

Fugo

He's trying very hard not to let jealousy overwhelm him

He can't help the furious death glare that burns holes into your flirty companion's skull

The nearest utensil is on the verge of shattering within his grasp

Everyone within a 10-15 metre radius has moved away for self-preservation purposes

He can only see red, feel red and be red

Luckily for him, your companion has left

Being so unimaginably enraged that it strikes the fear of God into his rivals apparently has its perks

Trish

There are five stages of jealousy

Stage 1 is denial: those chicks who ran up to you only want to know where the nearest station is and nothing more

Stage 2 is bargaining: even if those girls want more than directions from you, you'd surely prefer her company over their company

Stage 3 is anger: five minutes to ask for directions is more than enough time to locate a station and she is going to put an end to it—with force if she has to

Stage 4 is depression: after telling those girls off, it's apparent that you might have enjoyed the attention they gave you more than hers

Stage 4.5 is tsun: if you're really sorry for making her wait for five minutes, you'll treat her to a manicure

Stage 5 is dere: its not the service of you giving her free a manicure that she treasures but the extra time she can spend with you while you hold her hand in hers—something those girls won't get to experience

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale

Merman!Shinsou x reader, Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: adult themes (Minors DNI)

A/N: read the prologue on AO3

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

(Original image by @maewoahoah)

Synopsis: Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

Storms have never really been your cup of tea. Though you keep yourself locked inside a good percent of the time, there’s nothing quite as suffocating as the compress of clouds overhead. It’s not like you always have to see them to be uncomfortable, but you definitely feel them pressing down, closing in, and caging you, even when you’ve got yourself tucked under a blanket on Ms. Shuzenji’s couch.

It’s been a little over a year since you first moved to the island. All you needed was a new beginning, and you got that, but you got that, and the tropical weather that you’re still getting used to. It’s currently typhoon season, and holy seaweed-on-your-doorstep, is it storming.

There’s little you can do to distract yourself while staying and working at Shuzenji’s bed and breakfast. There are currently no guests, aside from you, so all the rooms are made, and the old lady is on another one of her long vacations, so you’re basically being paid to lounge. You’re grateful for that, at least. But the only thing that’s keeping you physically separated from the terrifying weather is a thick glass pane that water sloshes on every time a wave laps over the backyard walls.

The things that separate you mentally are the old-timey recordings of Shuzenji singing alongside an ensemble cast, and the little device in your hand. If you didn’t have your boss’s haunting melodies echoing throughout the house, and some big, beefy, tatted eye-candy to gawk at during the storm, you’d surely go insane.

Eijirou Kirishima, one of the island’s best surfers, is out on his board, live-streaming his current fight against the waves. His whoops and hollers can be heard over the crashing tides, getting even you excited for what’s about to come. That’s the thing about Kirishima; he’s wild, you’re not, and it’s hot as hell. Oftentimes, you catch yourself daydreaming about joining him out in the surf—he guides you through the waves, maybe yoou impress him a bit with your sudden affinity for wave-riding, and the two of you wash up on shore where you’ll both share your first kiss. It would be feasible if you could swim. It would be feasible if you bothered to learn how to swim, but for now, you’re content with your imagination. At least he can make you hate the terrible weather a little less.

The conspiratorial smirk he shows the camera is borderline swoon-worthy when the swell begins to pull him further out. It’s impossible not to bite your lip every time you catch a glimpse of his arms forcing themselves through the sea. He makes this look easy—like the storm is child’s play, and as the winds blow Shuzenji’s trash bin into the sliding glass door, you welcome the delicious distraction.

As Kirishima stands up on his signature trident board and rides one of the biggest waves he’s seen all day, you’re once again struck with how much of a coward you are. He can fight the elements, while you can hardly bring yourself the courage to talk to him. Mind you, he’s constantly surrounded by a close group of friends—a close group of friends you find intimidating—and when he’s not with them, he’s out in the water. Where there’s water involved, you’re spoken for. Unless, of course, you’d like for the first time you guys actually speak, to be when he’s giving you CPR.

Not the most ideal “meet cute”, but if it works, it works.

A loud crash snaps you out of your admittedly salty daydream. Mango, Shuzenji’s orange tabby, yowls at the blanket of water cascading down the windows, and your stomach sinks. There’s only so many minutes you can pretend that the storm Kirishima is facing isn’t the one that’s destroying Shuzenji’s yard.

With a sigh, you roll off the velvet couch, and grimace when crumbs that were nesting in your shirt fall to the carpet: a mess to clean up later. Without any guests to mind, you don’t have to worry too much over keeping the place spick-and-span, so long as things are nice and tighty by the time the old lady gets back, which will be awhile.

You have an easy enough job—at least, when there aren’t bunches of thick seaweeds crashing over the yard’s wall, flooding the pool.

“Shit.”

Water sprays in every direction. The already trash-infested pool overflows as more kelp rolls in with the maniacal waves, and angry, white foam bangs on the back door. It's a disaster outside, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Fingers wrapped around the back door handle, you struggle to think of a way to prevent a bigger mess, but even if you could manage to clean anything, nothing is stopping the tempest from wreaking anymore havoc. Best case scenario, you stop a plastic soda-chain from washing out to see and becoming a deadly necklace for an unlucky seagull. Worst case scenario, you slip, crack your head open on the pavement, and drown before you can ever utter the words “mahalo” to Kirishima.

Needless to say, you’ll take your life over a gull’s any day.

Another sigh.

A greater wave collides against the wall, bringing more of the Great Unknown into the pool. This is going to be a fun job to clean. Good thing you’ve got Shuzenji’s service boy, Denki Kaminari, on speed dial. You think if you sound particularly distressed in the morning, he’ll show up to help you out with just about anything in the matter of minutes. God bless desperate fuckboys.

So, for now, you cuddle back up on the couch, watch Kirishima shake saltwater out of his thick, red hair, and pretend that his storm is not the same thing as your storm.

It’s early morning when you finally rise out of bed. You hadn’t gotten a whole lot of rest—something to do with the wailing winds shaking your bedroom window nonstop, but after you finally drifted into dreams about snakes and dragons, you woke to clear skies, and light seagull calls.

From the second story, you can see early birds have already gotten the jump on cleaning up the beach. The sun is shining, the ocean blue and vast. The only trace there was ever a storm is already being taken care of. There are lifeguards riding around on ATVs and younger civilians with trash bags and grapplers picking up seaweed and absconded debris. The respect everyone has for the island is something to be admired, and you half-consider going out there yourself, after you’ve dealt with your yard, which is sure to be a wreck.

There’s no interest in picking out a cute outfit for the morning you’re going to have, even if Denki might see you, so you throw on a already-worn-this-week crop top, some pink shirts, and you’re good to go.

The first thing you do after Mango’s fed is check your socials. Kirishima posted a picture of his breakfast: a hefty plate with three eggs, sausage links, bacon, cut avocado, and what seems to be low-carb toast. The post reads, gotta eat ur gainz 2 gain ur gainz, and it’s so ridiculous that you’re infatuated with this reckless himbo. You wonder if you’d ever be able to hold an intellectual conversation with him, if you could ever manage to speak to him in the first place, but conversation wouldn’t matter if his mouth was between your thighs.

Following his example, you crack two eggs over a frying pan, sigh at the mostly empty fridge, then agonize over the state of Shuzenji’s yard. It’s worse than you thought it’d be. The pool is a sickly green color, and from where you’re standing inside, its murky depths seem to be almost opaque from the seaweed and garbage stewing together. Kelp litters the beige pavement, and there’s trash hiding in the shrubs. There’s a chocolate donut floaty bobbing around in there, too, and Shuzenji doesn’t own any floaties.

What a drag.

Before you get too far in your head about everything you’ll need to do to clean up, you quickly dial Denki’s number. He picks up after a ring and a half.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” says the boy on the line, and from his cocky tone, you can assume it’s not going to be about the cleanup. “I am absolutely free tonight. If you wanted to grab drinks at the Salty Barrel, maybe go on a romantic rendezvous out on the beach, watch the sunset on or in a couple blankets, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’m not calling to ask you on a date, Kaminari,” you say as you step outside. The pavement is cold underneath your bare feet, and you have to tip-toe around to be sure not to let any kelp touch your skin. Yuck.

“But you’re not, not calling about a date, either,” he counters. By the volume of his voice, you can tell that he’s in his van, talking to you over the speaker. Good. So he’s already out and about.

“I need you to tell me how to drain Shuzenji’s pool.” Call you cold, but you’re used to Denki’s flirty nature by now, and you’ve learned that the best way to deal with it, is to not acknowledge it. Of course, you can’t be too callous when it comes to him, especially when you actually need his help. You eye the dangerously complex-looking valves off to the side of the house, and grimace. “There’s too many twisty thingies! I’m not sure what to do!”

“Now, hold your horses, little lady! Don’t go twisting any thingies just yet. Draining a pool is a process.” There’s a long pause, the loud growl of an engine, then silence. He’d pulled over to talk to you. “How’s your TDL? And what kinda PVC pipes you got?”

“The huh and what?” You don’t need to pretend to be in distress—you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, don’t touch anything. You’re calling because the pool’s a mess right now, right? You don’t need to drain it; at least, not yet. I can swing by in an hour or so to clean it, but I’ve gotta make some stops first. You’re not the only single woman who wants to watch me do my thang, especially not after yesterday.”

“It’s so bad, Kaminari.” The water in the pool sloshes around, like there’s actually something in it causing the water to ungulate and burble. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Don’t worry your pretty, little head over it. You've got me, okay? It’s my job to protect and serve.”

“You’re not a cop.”

“Nope, I’m better than a cop. I’m a pool guy.”

He goes on to ask you to check out what kind of drain the pool has, if you can find the drain, then loses you when he starts talking numbers and gallons. While still on the phone, you send a few texts to Shuzenji, explaining the predicament, then Denki mentions rates. You’re getting the cutie pie discount, doubled because he counts Shuzenji as a “cutie pie” too—something you mention to her because she’ll get a kick out of it—then he drops all business to ask about food.

“I’m cooking my breakfast,” you say with a wary glance back at the house.

“But is your breakfast fries and a shake from Tiki Burger?”

You bite your lip as your stomach growls its empty sorrow. “No.”

“Would you like it to be?” His knowing grin is heard through the line.

“…I’m not gonna go out with you.”

He chuckles and you’re grateful that he can’t see your answering smile. “We’ll see how you feel after you see me work my magic. And hey, if you’d like me to wear a Speedo while I work—“

“You’ll be here in an hour?” You cut him off, because Denki in a Speedo is the last thing you need on your mind. The thought of Kirishima in a Speedo, however, gets you a little hot, which is saying a lot, since you’re a part of the Speedos and Dolphin-shorts Are Abominations To Swimwear belief system.

“Maybe sooner. I think my next client just needs me to check out their chemical levels. Inside pool and all. Everyone else knew to put a tarp out.”

The tarp you had blew away, but you don’t bother explaining that to Denki. Let him believe you’re the dim-witted “little lady” he wants you to be. If it means Shuzenji gets a discount, not that she can’t afford any bill Denki’s company throws at her, then let him believe you can’t open a pickle jar without a man’s help for all you care.  

“See you then,” you say, and end the call. There will be time to work on your charm once Denki gets here. Until then, you figure you could do some investigating so you’re not completely helpless.

Leaving your phone on the pavement so you don’t accidentally drop it in the water, you make your way around the pool to where you think you remember the drain being. You can’t say you’ll know what kind of drain it is, but if you remember correctly, it’s circular, and like, kinda meshy? That description simply won’t do.

Dropping down to your knees, you peer down into the pool, squinting, as if that can help you see through all the muck. There’s definitely a lot of kelp and algae, sand drifting through the water, someone’s wayward brazier, and oh. A school of fish—little babies circling about. It’s wild, but you suppose it could be possible if all the chlorine washed out and there was enough salt water to sustain marine life.

The fish move together, bopping into each other, mouths gaping open to eat whatever they find in their temporary home. You don’t know enough about marine life to know what kind of fish they are. Silvery little things. Maybe Denki has something that can help transport them from the pool to the ocean. It’s not far—Shuzenji’s house is on the beach. It would be a shame if all the little fish had to die. You don’t particularly care about touching or feeding fish, but a life is a life, and if they can be saved, you’d at least like to try.

But all your thoughts of saving fish life stop when you catch something moving in the water. It’s not the fish—they’re not that big, but it’s definitely fishlike. Fish plus. It moves like a shadow, serpentine and fluid. You catch a glimpse of scales, so it’s definitely not a dolphin—even then, it’s bigger than a dolphin, and more graceful than a shark. You begin thinking of leviathan, and other mythical creatures, as ridiculous as that is, when you see a long flowing fluke.

Okay. This thing is not just big. It’s gargantuan, and to see this much of the creature without seeing its head makes your skin crawl. You imagine falling in and being swallowed whole, suffocating in the dark, drowning in a monster’s belly.

The thought spooks you static, just in time to meet a pair of eyes in the water. This is your overactive imagination—you’re scaring yourself insane, but you don’t look away, and those eyes, almost human and curious, don’t disappear.

You’ve consumed enough media to know how these impossible interactions go. The creature is inquisitive, but keeps its distance. It often has to be coaxed out of hiding, and even then, the thing is skittish and untrusting. You’re certainly not one to go “pspsps, hey little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” but even if you were, you don’t get the chance, because this thing you’re looking at isn’t the least bit skittish, and in one second, you’re making eyes at at it, and in the next, the thing is exploding out of the water.

A large, broad chest towers over you. The thing pushes itself up with arms, human arms, but it’s anything but human. Sure, it has hair, although an odd purple color, framing its angular face and jaw, which are both human enough. Also framing its face are a pair of long, pointed fins sticking out from where human ears should be. Water dribbles down its chest, down to its navel—its navel. Your brain screams mammal, but underneath its navel are scales, rippling down to where its legs should be. Not human. Not fish.

Fish plus.

Man.

Fish plus man.

Fish-man.

Its eyes are almost the same color as its hair, only a shade lighter, and much sharper, narrowed in on you. It’s glaring. You realize this at the same time you realize that you're staring at it with your mouth agape. This would be so rude in any other setting. It’s also rude to pop out of a pool that isn’t yours without any other warning, but you’re not about to chastise the thing. You’re far too scared.

Then the thing reaches out to you, sprinkling water on your thighs and your shirt. Its hands look like a man’s hand, but its long fingers are connected by thin, indigo webbing that matches its tail. Its tail. You lose focus trying to find the word for this creature that’s barely on the tip of your tongue, when you realize the palm of its hand, its fishy, webby hand, is hovering over your cheek, the other carefully placed next to your knee to keep it upright.

You open your mouth to speak, but only a hiss comes out. The creature, wary, brings its hand back, but only slightly. Not enough to put you at ease, but enough to allow you to gain your composure, and scream.

“H-help!!!” You screech. “Help! Somebody! Help me!”

It claps its hand over your mouth, knocking you back. Water drips down on your shirt as it leans in, mouth curling up with distaste. Then, it does something impossible.

It speaks.

“So loud,” it growls in a low, masculine timbre.

It speaks, you think, it speaks and it has no manners!

You try to yell back, probably something with little thought, but you have a mouth full of fish-man hand, and the more you warble in its palm, the more apathetic it appears.

“Be quiet and still,” it commands, as if obeying it is supposed to be the most natural thing—something it expects from you. It catches you so off-guard that you actually listen, only trembling a little bit as those indigo eyes scan over your form. It’s uncomfortable having an unknown but cognizant creature observe you so closely. You shiver when its gaze roams over your belly, down your legs. You want to curl your legs up, move away, but you’re afraid if you even twitch more than it’s comfortable with, it’ll grab you and drag you into the pool. Your nightmare.

Instead, it does something slightly less worse. It moves its hand from your mouth to your cheek. The palm of its hand warms your skin in an unnatural way, like you’ve been laying in the sun for half an hour and it’s only your cheek that heats up. The creature's eyes widen as light begins to emanate, either from you, or from it, you’re not sure, but definitely from where it touches you. Tingles run from your neck down to your spine, and you wish you’d put a bra on before going outside, because this thing’s touch is making your body react in a way that it shouldn’t.

“So easy,” it purrs appraisingly, somewhat less insolent, but you’re still taken aback, ears hot with embarrassment.

Un-fucking-likely.

“Easy?!” You squawk out. “What do you mean by easy?”

It doesn’t answer you, and instead, moves its fingers from your cheek, down your jaw, to your chin. It begins leaning closer, heavy lids closing. You notice its lips for the first time: a defined line and a pretty bow. If you were in a less dire situation, you’d be able to admit that they’re very nice lips, but they’re getting closer to you, closer still, and you realize with a jolt what it’s trying to do.

Your foot meets its chest in a heartbeat.

“Nope!” You belt out, extending your leg so there’s more distance between you and the impolite beast. “Not today, fish-breath!”

Unperturbed, it lifts a lazy brow. Then, to your absolute horror, it presses both of its hands into your bare leg, and again you’re lit up, warm, and tingly, only far worse than before. Stomach tightening, you make a choked noise, trying to hold in the sigh that claws at your throat.

“Fish-breath.” It repeats your insult like it’s a balled-up piece of paper to be thrown in the trash. “I’ve been told that my aroma is quite appealing.”

“By whom? Other fish-breaths?!” You wriggle your leg out of his embrace, or whatever you could call that invasion, only to have it slip down so your foot rests in the fish-man’s hands, bright as the stars in the sky. “Eww ew! Don’t touch me! Get away!”

The creature scoffs, but let’s you go, and you both watch as the light disappears from the arch of your foot where he’d been touching. Fish-man slinks back into the murky water, hiding under a blanket of algae.

You have enough time to gather your composure, wipe the water droplets off your face, and rub your eyes. For a moment, you try to convince yourself that this has all been a sleep-deprived hallucination, but you’ve never really been one to delude yourself, unless your Kirishima fantasies were involved, and you know that you’ll have to try another tactic to accept the reality of your situation. Perhaps you can try to be civil with this creature, ask it if it’s…hurt, or if it needs a late night escort to get it back to the sea. But then, the thing resurfaces on the opposite end of the pool. It faces you, and leans back against the wall, arms spread out against the pavement, basking.

“You know,” he says, “your decorum is severely lacking. Don’t humans have classes that teach them proper etiquette—how to be more polite towards their guests and such?”

What’s lacking is your patience for marine life.

Standing up, you take in the thing, which you’re now pretty sure is in fact a man of sorts, in its entirety. His tail is long, longer than human legs, extending past the halfway mark of the pool, if your measurement counts his fluke. There’s a golden cuff on his right arm that spirals around, accentuating his large biceps. You stubbornly admit that it’s attractive—he’s attractive, at least, he would be for people who were into fish and not surfers. You brush whatever you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach off by telling yourself that you’re simply awestruck, and move on.

“Where I’m from-“ you begin, straightening your sodden crop top- “we offer our guests various beverages and snacks, depending on the time of day.”

Annoyingly, he looks interested.

“Since it’s the morning, I’d offer a guest tea, or coffee, and if I’m looking to impress, I’d maybe cook them a hot meal.”

The creature offers you a sardonic smile. “I happen to be famished.”

“However, with home-invaders, we’re more likely to pull a gun on them before heating up the earl grey.”

He loses the smile, and you’re glad that he might have an inkling of what a gun is. You’ve never owned one, and they don’t allow firearms on the island, but the threat stands. But if he was intimidated, even for a moment, he doesn’t show it anymore, and proves just that by turning his back on you, and resting his head in his arms. He has a dorsal fin with what looks to be a deep, x-shaped scar near his tailbone. You try not to wonder what that could’ve been from.

“Then how do you propose I go from a home-invader, to a house guest?” Asks the creature with little interest.

Cautiously walking around the pool with your arms crossed, you begin to list things off for the far-too-comfortable fish-man.

“You can start by telling me who you are, what you are, why you’re here, what you want, and why you think you can lay your webbed hands on me.”

“Oh, is that all?” He hums noncommittally. Content. Aggravating. “Why don’t you start then? Who are you, and why are you here?”

The back of your neck grows hot and uncomfortable. “How entitled do you have to be to—!” You start, but you’re swiftly cut off by the shrieking of the fire alarm. Smoke plumes from outside the house’s windows, and you curse under your breath before darting towards the door. You’d completely forgotten about your eggs.

In your haste to move the pan off the stove, you burn your fingers and drop the pan to the kitchen floor, two blackened egg crisps flaking off and diving in different directions. Mango yowls at the commotion and investigates one of the fallen egg crisps. Before you can tell him to buzz off, he loses interest in your mess, not bothering to give it a taste. You don’t blame him, but the eggs didn’t appear to be cat-bad. Ah, you can’t kid yourself. They are cat-bad. They’re completely inedible. Now you’re going to have to head to the market, while worrying about a man trapped in Shuzenji’s pool.

Your stomach roars at you.

After cleaning the mess as best as you could while desperately and ruefully wanting to return to your guest—no, not guest—invader, you get the alarm, half-heartedly fan the smoke out of the house, and return. Angry. This guy better start talking soon, or things are going to get ugly.

To your utter displeasure, he looks all the more amused at your newer, messier state.

“Was that supposed to be the hot meal,” he asks, cocky. “Because if so, I’ll pass.”

Instead of biting his head off like you’d like to, you present him with the still-dirty frying pan, pointing it at his head like you intend to use it.

“Start talking, fish-for-brains.”

The beast snickers, raising his hands in the air in mock-surrender. “Easy there, tiger shark. You know how to use that thing?”

You refuse to humor him. Instead, you keep your scowl tight, your arms steady. If he’s not threatened, he’ll lose interest in this game, then he’ll have to talk.

Lo and behold, you’re right. The fish-man rolls his eyes, and looks at you, again, with apathy.

“My name is Hitoshi Shinsou,” he says, lackadaisical, like he’s already bored of himself. “I’m one of Ryūjin. What humans have learned to call merpeople are actually descendants of the sea gods who lived centuries ago. I’m here, simply because the storm washed me here. What I want is to retrieve what’s mine. I thought I could lay my webbed hands on you—well-“ the corner of his mouth tilts up-“darlin’, it was because your body reacted to me.”

Mouth forming the beginning of a question that never comes, you stare in disbelief at this myth. Then the last thing he said dawns at you.

“I did not react to you!” You rebuke, steady hands now shaking.

“Oh no?” He says, but it’s not a question. It’s a challenge.

Hitoshi grabs the flat end of the frying pan and yanks it, and you, closer to him, closer to the water. You cringe and whine when a wet, webby hand closes around your wrist. Inadvertently, you drop the pan, but he pays it no mind as it sinks past his tail. Your skin begins to glow underneath his palms, and the tingles come back, shooting up your arm, causing tiny goosebumps to appear.

“Would you look at that,” Hitoshi croons, slow and almost sensuously. His indigo eyes narrow on your index finger where you’d burned yourself. To add to this nightmare, he closes his lips around it, and begins to suck. Your stomach flips, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re disgusted, or scared, or…enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth, his tongue, touching your skin.

“Stop.” It’s a whisper. It means nothing. You think you want it to mean something, but your thoughts are buzzing into a blur. Knees growing weak, you descend, leaning closer to him, not caring about the water or the seaweed or the fish, and instead, entirely focused on his mouth. It’s glowing, his mouth. Faintly. Like a single candle lit in an otherwise empty room.

When he eases off of you, he runs his thumb over your now-healed finger, and let’s your arm fall limply at your side.

“All better,” he whispers back at you.

There are prickles all over your skin once you regain an ounce of dignity.

“What the hell was that?” You ask, breathless for no other reason than shock.

“The glowing?” He asks. “The healing?”

“Both.”

“Your reaction to me.” He’s cocky again. This is something sick. Mythical creature or not, this has got to be a game he plays, washing into people’s pools, causing problems, sucking on lonely girls’ fingers. He probably gets his kicks this way, and uses whatever other kind of magic he has to erase whoever he’s tormenting’s memories, if he doesn’t end up eating them when he’s done. Bogus.

You won’t let him get to you.

“Alright, Hitoshi Shinsou, how would you like me to get you back into the ocean? You healed my finger-“ although it’s essentially his fault you were burned to begin with, if you take into account the sequence of events-“so helping you out is the least that I can do.”

“I could use your help,” he muses lightly, turning his body back around to his chest and abdomen are turned towards  the sun. You tell yourself not to stare like you know he probably wants you to. Though his eyes are closed, he peeps at you, sneaking a glance. “I don’t want to go back into the ocean, though. Not until I get what’s mine.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and scroll through her phone, you swallow your bite, and ask, “what would that be?”

“Oh, this and that-“ he waves his hand around dismissively-“other things.”

With the might of a girl who just wants to go back inside and find another frying pan, you say, “alright, listen. Someone is on their way to the house to clean the pool. I don’t know what one of Ryūjin means, but I’m guessing people like you don’t always want to be discovered by people like us. So you either tell me what it is you need, or see how my pool guy reacts to a mermaid lounging around in my backyard! I wouldn’t put it against him to call the local news station. Get this place flooding with cameras. Does that sound like a pretty picture to you?”

Absolutely none of your threats penetrate Hitoshi’s cool nature. In fact, he laughs.

“When he gets here,” the merman drawls, knowing he’s got you hanging on every word, “invite him to swim.”

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Laito Route ー Sub Scenario w/Subaru

–> In between the main route chapters, the player is taken to the area map of the Parade where you can freely roam around. There are four different places to visit, each with different mini games and sub scenarios to enjoy.

AREA: SAINT NORE PARK

CHARACTER: SUBARU

ー The scene starts on Saint Nore Park’s venue

Yui: ( Huh? Is that Subaru-kun over there staring at the...free fall attraction? )

Laito: What’s this~? Are you by yourself Subaru-kun? If you’re bored, want to get on this ride together? I heard it really gets your heart pumping!

Subaru: Hah! You really think I’m gettin’ on this thing? And with you two on top of that...

Laito: Such harsh words...Could you be scared, perhaps~?

Subaru: Haah!? Pfft! I’m not scared of this shit!

Laito: Hmー ...Then I see no problem! Come on, let’s go! You too, Bitch-chan.

Yui: S-Sure...

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Wah...Laito-kun dragged us both along by our arms onto the ride. )

Subaru: Oi! How did we get to this point!? Also, don’t tug on my arm!

Laito: Oh come on, no more complaints! Take a seat here, okay?

*Ka-chunk*

Yui: ( They fastened the harnesses... )

Laito: Now we can’t get back off until the ride ends, nfu~

Subaru: ...Fuck...!

*BZZZT*

*Thud*

Yui: ( Woah...It’s steadily going up. ...The ground’s already this far below our feet. )

Laito: Hey, hey! These seats are pretty unstable, don’t you think? Just look at how much they’re shaking!

*Creaaak*

Yui: Kyah!

Subaru: ...

Laito: Honestly, even with this harness attached, we might still fall to the ground.

Subaru: ...

Laito: Oh dear~? Subaru-kun went dead quiet. Did you get cold feet, perhaps?

Subaru: ...! ‘Course not! This is just some artificial crap, right?  ...It’s no big deal to me...

Laito: Hmm~? Then...Let’s make it even more fun!

*Creaaaak*

Yui: Kyah...!

Subaru: Oi, idiot! Stop shakin’ it ‘round!

Laito: Eh~? But it’d be so dull otherwise, no?

Subaru: Listen up! You’re givin’ her a darn heart attack by doin’ this as well, don’t you understand!?

Laito: Ah, right! Have you been scared this whole time perhaps, Bitch-chan?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Laito: Goshー You should have told me that sooner! I’m so sorry.

I’ll make sure to only scare Subaru-kun from now on, okay?

Yui: Eh?

Laito: That being said...Voila!

*THUD*

Subaru: Uwah! Don’t push me all of a sudden! That was hella close!

Laito: My bad~ My hand slipped~ Thank god you didn’t actually fall~

Subaru: Fuck off! You totally did that on purpose!

Laito: How mean! Why would I do that?

Yui: ( Laito-kun, could he be...purposely messing with Subaru-kun? )

Subaru: As if I can trust you on your word!

Laito: Come on, calm down. If you get too heated, you might fall...Whoops~!

*THUD*

Subaru: ...! I said stop!

Yui: Laito-kun, you should probably stop or things might actually get dangerous?

Laito: Hm...But Subaru-kun’s scared reactions are just so amusing, I don’t think I can stop~

Subaru: You’ve got it all wrong! I’m not scared, I just don’t like bein’ in the same space as you!

Laito: Oh come on~ I can tell you actually love spending time together! You’re so hopeless, Subaru-kun~

Subaru: Aahー! I don’t care anymore, just get me off this ride already!

Laito: Geez~ If you insist...I suppose you can make the trip back down there a little earlier~

*THUD*

Subaru: Uwaaaaah...!

*WOOSH*

Yui: Subaru-kun!

( No way, the harness actually came loose and he fell straight down...! )

Laito: Don’t worry, Bitch-chan. I’m sure his fighting spirit will help him fly right back up!

Subaru: Uwoooooh...!!

Yui: ( W-Will he really be okay...? May he please stay safe! )

ーー THE END ーー

[a-cupof-jo]

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event! 

Summary:  The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

~~

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows  dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide. 

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes. 

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.” 

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards. 

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion. 

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?" 

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white." 

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building. 

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched. 

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.” 

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store. 

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised. 

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in. 

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly. 

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet." 

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor. 

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down." 

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected. 

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down." 

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches. 

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving. 

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?" 

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.” 

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.” 

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?” 

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.” 

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in  mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.” 

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?” 

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.” 

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him. 

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

~~

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored. 

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made. 

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him. 

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more." 

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from." 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?" 

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?" 

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again.  "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please." 

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!" 

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave. 

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer. 

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment. 

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not." 

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables." 

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff. 

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger." 

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion. 

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

 It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well. 

~~

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids. 

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town. 

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.” 

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?” 

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.” 

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside. 

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

~~

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

[shoutogepi]

As Long as You’re Safe

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 2.1k smol boi (blurb!)

[ ☁︎, ☀︎ ]  

themes : Soooo not really sure what to call this?? Kinda angst?? But super fluff ending :3

blurb : They are fighting a villain who has the ability to see into their opponent’s memories, and also convey scenarios and images into their opponent’s mind, making them feel like real life. The villain accesses their memories of you, and realizes that that is a very weak spot.

author’s note : idk i felt like I needed a fluff sponge to clean up that nasty first post haha so heres my best janitorial work!

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he air whipped past Bakugou’s face, eyes turning into venomous slits as he finally was able to see the villain he had been called in to handle. He had been on patrol on the other side of the area, but when his sidekick didn’t respond to his messages, a gut feeling had urged him to come as backup. The agency had called when he was already halfway there, confirming his suspicion.

This was the guy? Tch. Bakugou snarled at the thought of this wimp being able to beat, well, anyone. The guy was slender and looked like he had almost no muscle or body fat. But he had to have a good quirk if he had taken out a handful of people already, so Bakugou regarded him with careful contempt. The explosions in his palms stopped as he fell from the third story of the building he’d been perched on, hurtling toward the ground.

“Hey asshole,” Bakugou yelled as his boots touched the pavement of the sidewalk. He stretched his palms in a wicked manner, cracking his neck in a swift motion.

The villain turned, a look of disgruntled annoyance simmering to the surface of his face. A malicious smile overtook his thin lips, and a glint in his eye made Bakugou growl. The man faced him directly now, and the terrified pedestrian he had been toying with sobbed as they ran towards the safety of the crowd gathering a respectable distance away. Bakugou grimaced as he noticed the limp body of his sidekick, sat up against one of the storefront’s flower barrels with closed eyes and a pained expression. From just a glance, he could tell they were alive… but they probably didn’t feel too great.

“Ground Zero,” the spindly man smiled, but to Bakugou it looked more like he was baring his teeth like a rabid dog. “How nice of you to grace me with your presence! I didn’t know little old me could pull in a top hero.”

Bakugou barked a short laugh. “You only got me ‘cause of sheer luck, dumbass. I have no clue who you think you are, but you’re about to be very well acquainted,” he paused, rolling his right wrist for dramatic effect,” with my fists.” 

He expected a range of reactions from the villain. He had been doing this pro-hero gig for awhile now, so he’d learned the ropes-- and this guy didn’t seem like the type to have an ass-whooping quirk, so he could most likely afford to physically attack.

“Now that is an interesting game plan, Bakugou,” the villain stated, voice dripping with rancor. His words shocked Bakugou for a moment, and just as a thought formed in his mind, the slender man vocalized it. “Oh shit, this fucker can read me like a book,” the man paused, an amused smile on his face,” wow, you have quite a way with words.”

“Tch. I don’t care if you’re in my head asswipe, ‘cause your skull is about to be crushed into the ground,” Bakugou replied, foot planting behind himself and getting ready to pounce.

“Hmm, are you sure? Will you treat me roughly?” the man continues seamlessly, making Bakugou’s eyes widen in confusion. Treat him rough? Who the hell does this guy think he is? Was he hitting on him? The villain’s smile only broadened, the sneer on his mouth flushing Bakugou’s stomach with dread. “At least, as rough as your girlfriend likes it?”

Bakugou’s mouth dried at his words, body stuttering as he processed the them. Why the fuck was this freak talking about Y/N?

“Y/N, yes-- what an extravagant creature. I wouldn’t have pegged her as someone who likes to be choked. Are you sure you can handle fighting me? It seems like you had an exhausting night, and rest is important for the body.”

Bakugou’s breath is stolen out of his lungs, his wide eyes turning into furious crescents at the villain’s words. That was private! The villain’s words automatically triggered his memory, even if he was trying his best to push the image away. You, underneath him last night, shaking and whimpering and making that irresistible expression as he fucked you raw. A light blush bloomed on his cheeks at the recollection, but he shoved it away as fast as he could. His eyes met the villain’s again, but this time, the shadowy figure’s features had morphed into a terrifying grin, eyes bulging out of his skull with disgusting delight.

“Oh, thank you so much for sharing that with me. Maybe I’ll try out choking her myself!” he laughed, voice oozing with excitement as he wrung his hands together.

Bakugou snapped out of his surprised state, shaking his head and clenching his eyes shut. He just had to wreck his loser and then he could go home to you.

Nothing could prepare him for what happened next. He looked back up at the villain, and his stomach plummeted fifty meters into the concrete below him as he registered the horrific scene.

The villain was standing in the exact same spot, but he had his arms wrapped around your throat. You were trapped in his hold, big desperate eyes full of tears that slid down your cheeks and fingers clawing futilely at his hold. You were wearing that maroon lingerie from last anniversary that drove Bakugou wild, your hair clinging to your wet chin as you sobbed. The noise was enough to make Bakugou’s knees shake, his heart felt like it had leapt into his throat.

“S-Suki,” you whimpered, slicing his heart into two.

Bakugou’s lips trembled at your cry, his hands clenching into fists at his side. His voice was much softer now, and he was surprised to find it didn’t break,” Let her go.” His feet planted square, he stared down the villain with a burning determination, steam practically pouring out of his nostrils.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” the man chided, one hand leaving your delicate throat and sliding down your chest. Bakugou’s fingernails broke into the flesh of his palms as the villain’s hand ran over your breast, lingering there as he gauged Bakugou’s reaction. The choked sob that came from you made Bakugou see red.

Bakugou stepped forward but immediately regretted it as the villain’s hand on your throat turned white. He watched in horror as you sputtered, face turning pink at the exertion of wriggling in his hold, grasping at his hand to no avail. “Stop! Please!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in front of him and taking a step back.

“Ground Zero!” Bakugou’s eyes hesitantly left your figure for a moment, trying to find the source of the shout. It sounded like someone was calling him, but from somewhere far away… or like he was underwater. He looked around, realizing the crowd of onlookers had vanished, and the unconscious body of his sidekick was gone as well. Actually, you three were the only people on the busy Japan street.

Just like that, the gears click into place. Looking back at the villain, his rage bubbling inside, he snarled and pushed his body off the pavement, explosions dancing on his palms to seal the gap swiftly.

The villain looked irritated at being found out, but that didn’t stop him from snapping your neck. Bakugou tried not to look at you, but the thought that you had been real just a moment ago made his chest tight as your gaze glazed over and your body slumped to the ground. He screamed as he drew back his fist, concentrating his power on his hand just as it connected with the spindly man’s jaw. His head flew backwards, a sick crack sounding as his body was flung into the air behind him.

Bakugou landed on his feet, and braced himself for a second as he closed his eyes. Not real, not real, she is not real. Opening his eyes, he looked at the spot your crumpled body should have been, only to find that it was empty. He breathed out a sigh of relief, attention sliding back to the unconscious villain in the middle of the road. He ignored the cheers erupting from the crowd behind him, feet moving on their own accord toward the villain’s figure to finish the job.

It was hell waiting to get back to you. Bakugou had to wait for the police to show up and take the loser off his hands, then he had to pretend he was fine and sign a thousand autographs, and then to top it all off, he had to take his damn sidekick back to the agency across town. The suspense was killing him. Even if he knew that it was stupid… a small, okay-- maybe large-- part of him needed you in his arms, and to know you were truly alright.

After he was done with the agency, he nearly ran all the way home. Using his quirk to shoot himself through the starry cityscape, the wind rushing through his hair, his chest still felt just as tight as it did earlier. It seemed like an eternity had passed as he finally planted his feet on the sidewalk, hand grabbing the main entrance door and nearly ripping it off its hinges. The security guard barely had time to recognize him and buzz him in, and he sure as hell didn’t bother with a “good evening”. He beelined past the elevator, instead opting to dart into the stairwell and propel himself up to the sixteenth floor with his quirk.

His legs couldn’t carry him fast enough, and he dashed through the hallway with urgency. His eyes finally landing on the door, he prayed it was unlocked because he really did not want to blast through the lock but damn it, he might just have to. He nearly cried as he jiggled the door handle, confirming his fear. His palm on the metal handle, he closed his eyes and wondered if you would kill him for blasting through another locksmith’s fine work.

But then the handle turned ninety degrees, and the door cracked open to reveal your bare face, hair looking frazzled as you blinked at him.

“Suki!” your plump lips split into a joyous grin and Bakugou’s soul almost left his body in sheer relief. You pulled him into the apartment, shutting the door behind him and wrapping your soft arms around his torso. “I was so worried about you! I saw the end of your fight on the news, are you okay?”

Bakugou couldn’t say any words, his throat felt thick and his eyes stung as he crushed you into his chest. His head hanging down to sniff your precious head, his lungs rattled as he tried not to burst into tears. You fit so perfectly in his arms, he couldn’t help but thank the universe that you’re safe, and you’re here, holding onto him tightly as he barely kept it together.

You frowned at his silence, but you decided to comfort him anyway because he seemed like he really needed it. Your fingers brushed along his spine as he clutched onto you, gathering his emotions. You weren’t used to seeing him so choked up, but you knew there must be some reason as to why he’s so silent. “It’s okay, baby,” you whispered, making a small sigh fall from his lips.

He finally looked you in the eye, and your stomach fluttered with butterflies at his expression. “I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, warm hands taking your face and pressing your lips to his. You hummed happily against his mouth, hands lacing behind his neck in compliance. He pulled away, one last shred of doubt left to address. “Are you okay?” he inquired quietly, almost bashfully. His gaze was directed to the collar of your shit that his thumb was playing with, and you took his jaw in your hands to make him look at you.

His scarlet eyes looked so concerned and scared, your heart ached for him. “Of course I’m okay Katsuki,” you answered, looking at him deeply,” I have you to protect me!” A small smile adorned your lips as your nails scratch gently at his scalp. “Are you okay, my love?”

One corner of his mouth quirked up adorably as he tried to put on his brave face for you. “I’m okay,” he whispered, eyes closing as his lips touched your forehead gently,” as long as you’re safe.”

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

masterlist (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ 

please stop by and say hi!! i’d love any feedback <3 thanks for reading!!

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[kyasarinkishinuma]

So you know how Caesar used to be this thug on the streets who use hamon? So what about one day Caesar is roaming around and he sees this girl fighting by using hamon and she just beats the absolute shit out of her opponent, Caesar sees himself in her and like tries to convince lisa lisa to like take her in or something??

This prompt is really great! Thank you for requesting this, I love the idea (as well as Caesar, he's my favourite 'side character'). I hope you'll enjoy!

Also, I changed your scenario up a bit to make it more interesting (in my opinion). I hope you don't mind!

Caesar x Reader: Rebels

Life on Lisa Lisa's island was lonely.

Caesar was the only young Hamon trainee at the time, making it fairly difficult for him to interact with anyone in his age group. Not that he minded so much, though. When he wasn't flirting with cute girls in Venice's restaurants, he preferred to be alone, meditating in his room to practice his Hamon breathing. Very few dared disturb him.

He didn't dislike it, though. Caesar had been a loner ever since his father had left his siblings and he. Sure, he had a small gang in his thug days, but those following him mostly did out of admiration. Caesar had been a powerful, feared man of the streets. He barely ever lost to anyone.

His pride wouldn't allow him to be humiliated in such a way.

But those days were over, and far from glorious. He'd never go back, now that he had taken up his bloodline's quest for the Stone Mask.

It was a past that was so far, yet so close.

And it hit him in the face, one day, when he returned to his home city, Naples.

Caesar pulled his hat over his face as he quickened his pace in his former neighbourhood. He didn't want to risk getting recognized. Yes, he had changed a lot, but he had quite a number of followers in his thug days. And most importantly, he didn't want to drive his family out of the safety of their ignorance and into his perilous quest.

Once he reached a busier street, farther off, he gave off a long breath and leaned up against a wall to calm down. It was all right. This wasn't his home anymore. No one had recognized him. He had to carry out Lisa Lisa's orders.

After having collected himself, the Italian man stood back up, going on with his business as he merged into the bustling crowd.

Until some distant screams caught his attention.

He'd recognize that kind of scream anywhere.

Try as he might, he was unable to contain his curiosity. He slipped away toward the dark alleys from which the furious yells had sounded.

He felt his heart pounding as he got closer and closer to what he knew was a street fight. He really shouldn't get involved, but he just had to see.

And when he did, hidden behind a wall, his eyes popped right out of his head.

There was a street fight, all right. But he knew one of the fighters all too well.

It was one lady against three burly men.

And yet, the males were the ones yelling.

From what Caesar had seen, the girl was really pissing them off.

"You damn woman!" The leader of the trio seethed, a vein popping out from his neck. "You're fucking crazy!"

"Just give me back what you stole and we can put this behind us," calmly spoke the woman, arms crossed over her chest. Caesar gulped. He hadn't heard that voice in ages.

The men chuckled darkly, starting to close in on their target. "You don't know what's good for you, woman. You asked for it!"

They pounced.

She jumped.

As a result, the men's heads smashed together, making them wail as they stumbled back and cursed.

"What the--- Fuck!" The woman's first victim gave out a scream as he was gracefully punched in the jaw, sending him stumbling into a rock wall. Caesar stared on with wide eyes. For her size, the lady was incredibly strong.

Growling, another man went for the lone fighter, wrapping his chunky arms around her neck from behind to choke her. Helpless against his massive form, her face rapidly turned to a cherry-like colour, although she took a deep breath.

And then, she leaned forward, somehow flipping the man over her head to make him smash onto the ground.

As he howled and writhed in pain on the alley street, she calmly came up to him and kicked him in the face with her boot, knocking him out.

Caesar couldn't believe what he was seeing. This lady was single-handedly whooping these bulky thugs' asses. He would've intervened if it had been necessary, but it looked like he'd only be a witness today.

The woman turned back toward her ultimate opponent, the trio's leader. His face was growing redder and redder by the second. He was downright furious.

"You'll pay for that, you fucking broad..." He growled lowly under his breath, hands balling into fists.

A smirk tugged at her lips. "If you want a piece of this, come get it."

That was it. That was the final straw.

The burly man charged at the last fighter with a blood-curdling scream.

The lady stood, unfazed.

She was brutally bowled over by the oversized thug's strength, falling to the ground beneath his suffocating weight.

And yet, next thing the man knew, he was flying through the air. His face smashed into the alley wall, and he crumbled to the ground with a quiet groan before he passed out.

This time, Caesar had spotted the lady's little secret.

Her legs had been shining slightly when she kicked the brute off of her. And her breathing confirmed his suspicions.

She was using Hamon.

He had seen enough. Caesar emerged from behind his wall, clearing his throat gently as to alert the woman of his presence as he approached.

When she turned to face him, ready in a fighting stance, he couldn't help but smile fondly.

You, (Y/N), had not changed.

It didn't take long for you to understand what was going on. "...Caesar?" You whispered his name weakly, staring as you struggled to believe what you were seeing. "Is that really you?"

"(Y/N), bella, you haven't changed." He came up to stand in front of you, his height forced you to tilt your head up at him, as it always had. Grinning, "But it looks like you've got some new tricks up your sleeve."

You returned the grin. "Oh, Caesar, it's really you!" You threw yourself against him for a hug, giggling as joy washed over you. "It has been so long! I've missed you. How have you been?"

"I've been well," answered your old friend, gently returning the hug. "I've left the streets to start a better life. How about you?"

You pulled back, handing him a weak smile. "Me? I'm still here, I'm just same old (Y/N). It's been a bit rough on the streets, but I'm all right..." Your voice trailed off as you noticed how intensely your former gang leader was staring at you. "Hey, Caesar, don't look at me like that. It's weird."

"O-Oh," gasped Caesar, blushing slightly as he realized what he had been doing. "Sorry, (Y/N). It's just..." He gave you a serious look. "How long have you been fighting like I did?"

"Oh, you mean how long I've had this?" You held your fist up as it sparked slightly. The sight made you grin widely in pride. "Ever since you left. I had noticed how you breathed when you fought, so I tried it myself!"

"Ahh, I see..." Seeing you so proud made Caesar smile, yet worry. Hamon was a useful but dangerous ability to have, and you didn't know that. Neither one of you heard about Hamon in the streets...

"Hey, Caesar! Hellooooo? Earth to Caesar?" Said Italian man jolted out of his thoughts as he blinked, noticing the hand you had been waving in front of his face. You were observing him, arms crossed as you pouted at him. "There you are! You know, it's rude not to listen when someone is talking to you!"

Caesar chuckled at that, focusing his bright eyes back on you. His smile was back. "I know, I know. My apologies, (Y/N). But, I must tell you something..."

His seriousness caught your attention. And so he guided you out of the dark alley to someplace safer and nicer, in a local park full of flowers.

And he told you everyone he knew about Hamon.

He left out the part about the Stone Mask. He didn't want to make you panick if it wasn't necessary.

However, he did want you to leave the streets to come and train with him.

"If you come, you will master this ability," explained your friend, gazing at you pleadingly. "(Y/N), please. I want you to come with me. Come and start a new, better life."

You gave a long sigh as you struggled to process all of this new information. So Caesar and you weren't the only ones who wielded this power? It was a power that had been carried down from generation to generations by Hamon masters...

But he was asking you to leave Naples, the only home you knew. You had never been beyond this city, you knew nothing else of this world. Could you really just leave with him?

He was your best friend, yes, but... This was where you belonged.

You nodded solemnly after a moment, looking at your friend sadly. "I'm sorry Caesar, but... I can't come with you."

*****

Caesar could no longer live with his past. Not when he knew you were out there, living in dark, rat-infested alleys. Not when he knew you could be here, training with him.

He needed his friend by his side. Especially when Joseph Joestar arrived, dooming them both to fight the Pillar Men.

Caesar needed you to lean on.

He pleaded Lisa Lisa to take you in. He promised he'd work harder, he promised he'd protect the Red Stone with his life.

But Lisa Lisa would only ever shake her head.

"Caesar, we cannot force her to come here. You must understand."

He knew that. But he didn't want to accept it.

He wanted to see his best friend's face, one more time.

But he never got the chance.

*****

A bouquet of flowers. That was all that was left of Caesar, brought to you by Joseph Joestar.

Your world crumbled around you at the tragic news. And suddenly, you oh so regretted not agreeing to his offer, back when he had seen you a few years ago. What if you could've saved him? What if you could've died in his place?

You grew miserable. You grew depressed.

Naples no longer felt like home, now that Caesar's memories no longer breathed into it.

No, Caesar's memory was now elsewhere, you understood.

It was in the sparks your Hamon produced.

And you'd keep his memory alive, you decided.

Even if it meant starting all over like he had.

[END]

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 17: 3x07 Day of the Dove

I am incredibly discombobulated today—usual weekend nocturnal shenanigans I guess! Anyway it’s somehow midnight. Gonna try to write up these note on the Classic episode The Day of the Dove in as efficient a manner as possible.

Hmm, a planet with wavy pink Fraggle plants. I like it already.

But where is Spock? Very suspicious.

I really appreciate Kirk giving a little speech to set up the overall question/issue for us. (I know he does this all the time with the Captain’s logs but this is out loud and so… more obviously expository.)

Oh no, it’s our old friends…the Klingons.

I will admit that this ONE TIME, the Klingon is being reasonable. Like, it is reasonable to think that Kirk and the Enterprise attacked his ship, given that his hip WAS attacked, and who else would it be?

Three years of peace between the Klingons and the Federation? That is inclusive of the show so all this tension must technically be “peace” and also implies there was something more like a direct war going on, like, right before Kirk got the captaincy.

Zoolander voice: What is this, a colony of the INVISIBLE?

“We have no devil. But we understand the habits of yours.”

No takers? No takers on the torture? No volunteers to be mercilessly tortured by the Klingons?

Star Trek Beyond could have had Kirk and Chekov bond over being brothers! I mean, to other people.

They’ll kill 100 hostages at the first sign of treachery. He does know there are only 400-some people on the ship right? Maybe you should pace yourself, Kang.

Kirk’s so badass he needs MULTIPLE guns trained on him just to use the phone.

Oh-ho secret message to Spock. Which version of the iPhone will be capable of doing THAT?

The Klingons are “suspended in transit” is an awfully nice way of saying they’re just dematerialized atoms in space. Philosophy major and/or Bones nightmare fuel.

How did Kang not see this coming, by the way? Like, he just says “I’m taking your ship now, me and my 6 men versus your 400-some men, and I’ll do this by simply declaring it to be so. Now let’s beam up to your ship, where I’ll be greatly outnumbered, and there are armed security guards all around me.” Guess he’s been reading The Secret!

WIFE AND SCIENCE OFFICER

Aka the most important part of this whole episode.

Kirk’s face is very ?????? You can have both????

It’s legitimately not even important for her to be the science officer tbqh. Like that is so gratuitous. That’s just in there to drive me insane.

"We're prisoners, somehow, after I demanded to come on the ship, assuming they'd just give it to me without any kind of fight. How DID this happen?”

Federation death camps lol—someone’s been watching Fox News.

I do kind of wonder… is this an actual rumor that goes around the Klingon homeworld or is it something that the alien entity put in her head specifically to make her angrier right now? I mean it really could be either.

I also appreciate this episode for being pretty much the only one to actually attempt to give the Klingons a reason for being as they are. The Romulans… maybe aren’t well-described, but they do have a sort of regalness to them, appropriate for being related to Vulcans, and you can kind of imagine that they are the way they are because they’re Vulcans without the intense self-control. Plus they’re literally only in 2 TOS eps and in the second, the Federation are the aggressors. But the Klingons show up a half-dozen times only to be depicted each time as just like Cartoonishly Bad, aggressive, violent, and selfish for basically no reason. And I mean, some people really are!! But TOS has so much nuance in other places, that it always seemed a little disappointing to me that the Klingons are really just like ‘well we’re just bad and we hate everyone and we really like killing I guess.” At least in this ep there’s a little more added to that: that there is poverty on their world, that they feel aggrieved, that they feel unprotected, that taking and conquering is how they look after themselves…

I think that’s later in the episode though.

He’s detaining them in the LOUNGE lol. With their favorite dishes available to them to eat. Absolutely barbarous conditions.

I can’t believe Chekov is hanging in the elevator with the cool kids. Like, one of these things really isn’t like the others.

Kang is officially sure of himself for someone currently imprisoned in the lounge, that most fearsome of Federation death camps.

Hmm, could the glittery light alien have taken over??

You know what, that's a lot of tasks for Johnson to do all by himself: search the whole ship, fix the engines, and free 400 people.

Sulu would love this: everyone gets a sword!!

“Bridge. I gotta show this to Sulu immediately.”

Klingons have maintained a dueling tradition. That’s interesting. Finally some characterization going on.

Spock is really living up to his logical nature today. Everyone else has gone off the emotional deep end and he’s like “have you considered this completely rational explanation that accounts for the actual, observed facts??”

Whoops Chekov is actually an only child. Scratch that previous Beyond headcanon. (Interesting that his dead brother does really resemble Sam though—killed on a research colony??)

Love that Sulu knows that about him though.

Oh, that’s a pretty schematic picture of the Enterprise. I want that on a t-shirt.

Lol the pan out to the armory, now filled with… swords!!

Do ALL of these men have a fetish for swords? Sulu and fencing, Spock displaying swords in his quarters, and Kirk in his San Francisco apartment, and Scotty salivating over this Scottish blade.

“Klingon units.”

Finally Sulu gets his sword! It’s what he deserves.

Love that the shiny light alien also has a fetish for swords.

Oh no, it’s our old adversary, an alien life force.

What is the alien’s purpose? Um, I’m pretty sure its purpose is to start shit.

“An appropriate choice of terms, Captain.” I don’t even remember what this is referring to but I think it’s pretty clear that Spock is enjoying himself during a crisis again.

Bones, being so dramatic. Were there atrocities? He’s talking about the Klingons as if they were literally hacking off limbs—it’s a few stab wounds here and there, chill.

Oooh, time to behave like military men—strong words. (But I thought it wasn’t the military?? @ S**** P****) (This might not even be my best argument, given the context of this episode, but I’m sticking with it.)

This is like a giant game of capture the flag.

AU that’s just about the Enterprise crew playing capture the flag with the Klingons.

Sulu in the background standing guard with his sword

Damn, turning on Spock with the slurs now!!

Spock was absolutely ready to kill him. Like he would 100% have taken him out with a blow to the head. And he’d been doing such a good job of not feeling the alien’s effects so far! Admittedly, that was a strong provocation though.

Honestly, I really like this scene. It’s uncomfortable and tense and you can really see how the alien is bringing out the worst possible influences of their respective races. And I liked how Spock was definitely full on pre-Reform Vulcan for a minute there. It was a more effective portrayal of what that might have looked like than All Our Yesterdays tbqh.

A result of… stress?

Kirk got himself out of it first. He’s so strong. He knows himself so well, he cannot be outsmarted by any alien.

“We’ve been taught to think in terms other than war.”

“The alien brings out the worst of us—patriotic drumbeating…even race hatred.”

He’s so sad; he can’t imagine thinking like that about Spock :(

Sulu in a Jeffries tube! A man of many talents. It’s okay bb, take credit for turning on the lights.

The alien must have been getting bored. The Klingons must have been doing too well, and the playing field needs to be leveled for maximum shit-stirring.

“Let’s find that alien.” That’s how I ALWAYS feel.

Oh, Kang, you’re so close—“What power supports our battle but thwarts our victory.” So, so close to getting it.

ALIEN DETECTED.

Spock takes his sword, of course.

“Jim.” Obligatory Jim moments hit differently when they’re not so obligatory.

“Jim—stop hitting my protégé. And put that sword down.”

Kirk looks so sad, picking Chekov up to carry him bridal style.

Also in addition to ‘race hatred’ I think we need to add ‘rape-y tendances’ to the bad stuff that the alien is inspiring here.

“A brief surge of racial bigotry. Most distasteful.” Spock winning for understatement of the year.

They're assuming the alien is trying to test out their relative powers but I think it just wants entertainment. I mean, doesn’t it look like a naughty little thing?

Mara’s outfit is… little shorts? Interesting. Usually not my style but she makes it work.

Spock doesn’t even look at Johnson as he falls lol. Another one bites the dust.

“It exists on the hate of others.”

What does this remind me of? Oh, the Vast of Night and the whole “aliens made us do every bad thing ever” conspiracy theory. At least this one makes more sense, in part because it is not quite so overwhelmingly broad!

All hostile attitudes must be eliminated, he says, and there's Mara right behind Kirk giving him a death stare lol.

Kang is so obviously posing. Google Earth, always taking pictures.

Only a few minutes before drifting forever in space becomes inevitable? Good thing Kirk works well under pressure.

“Well… do whatever you can, Scotty. You know the drill.” Doesn’t even bother giving real directions anymore. We’ve been in this scenario before.

“So we drift in space, with only hatred and bloodshed aboard.”

And the 392 people below just get to…live in Enterprise prison, I guess.

Star date: Armageddon. So dramatic!

I’m not even making that up; that’s an actual quote. Can you imagine being an Admiral listening to this?

“Stop the war now.” An actual line, really aired on television.

Spock wants to threaten the wife lol. That's the old pre-Reform Vulcan seeping through. Surak who?

Damn, Kang is cold. “Eh, she gets the concept of being killed in battle.” They’re gonna need marriage counseling after this.

“There is another way. Mutual trust and help.” Yes that’s my hero!!

“No one can guarantee the actions of another.” Can’t remember the context of this entirely anymore, but great line.

The entity is loving this—multi-person choreographed sword fight!!

"Those who hate and fight must stop themselves. otherwise it is not stopped.” Another baller line. Spock has a lot of deep thoughts today. And so does Kirk. And Kang.

Kirk tries to reason with the alien. Nice try.

“Shoo. Shoo, alien. Off the ship, go away.”

Omg that last moment—Kang slapping Kirk’s back way too hard, Spock’s completely ridiculous wide-eyed expression when he does, like some sort of combo of amusement and confusion, and then Sulu just passing on by in the background….

Then the alien just yeets itself into space. And that’s the end!

Always feels weird when there’s no wrap up on the bridge.

Also, what are they going to do with the Klingons? They have no ship. They really did come out of this a lot worse than Kirk and co. No ship, huge casualties—and no one to blame even, but the alien.

I feel like the alien messed up a little in killing so many Klingons. Like, it could have accomplished its purpose, angering the Klingons and turning them on Kirk, by attacking the ship a little less violently—you know they’d react to 5 deaths pretty much the same as 400, and then there would be many more people to fight forever and produce that sweet sweet anger!

Maybe the alien’s powers aren’t strong enough to influence 800 people though. Also it wants equal forces and 800 people wouldn’t fit on the Enterprise, one assumes. So it still makes sense.

That was, of course, an excellent episode. 100% agree with is classic status, even though the main things I remembered going in were the wife + science officer bit, and everyone laughing at the end in a really forced, fake way, in order to make the alien go away.

I thought the Klingons were a lot better/more interesting today than usual. First, I think Kang is a better character, or a better actor maybe, than the others; he has a certain way about him that is… more watchable, more sympathetic. And he’s always saying these really dramatic things that make it seem likely he writes patriotic Klingon war poetry in his off time. Also, including his wife made them seem more… not human obviously, but normal. Not just cardboard cut-out villains. And of course the actual lightly specific motivations I earlier mentioned helped too.

Also, the plotting was very good: it built up slowly but surely over time, so at first the alien’s influence wasn’t that obvious, and then it became more so, and then it became horrifically obvious and extreme. And then you had to re-evaluate earlier moments: was that the alien changing facts in their heads, or a real part of the animosity between humans and Klingons? And it wasn’t always clear, which I appreciated. The tension when the people were at their worst wasn’t overdone, like in that moment with Scotty, Spock, and Kirk—or even in Chekov’s assault on Mara, tbh. The various strategies of the different sides were very entertaining too; there was never a dull moment, and they fit in a lot of straight-up actions and twists into 50 minutes.

The possible threat was truly terrifying, also: stuck in a space ship, forever, unable to die, feeling the worst possible emotions all the time, besieged, angered, despairing, fighting a war that can’t be won, being injured and suffering only to recover and fight again, and it never stops… A perfect nightmare mixture of insanity and violence and pain. And the alien, in encouraging hatred and anger, doesn’t discriminate between sides: they turn on each other just as much as on the Klingons, breeding paranoia and infighting. For eternity.

The episode also felt much more strongly anti-war than I remember tbh. Like it was not subtle. Kirk literally says “stop the war” in so many words. He has a part in his speech where he talks about the possibility of other aliens out there, encouraging other wars. And while I do think “maybe the aliens are making us do it” is a cop out explanation, or would be if it were real, the scenario gave the show a lot of room to say, like, pretty ballsy things: to include “patriotic drum beating” along with “race hatred” in a list of corrupting feelings they were experiencing; to show how the same instincts that lead to warring also lead to sexual assault and the aforementioned ‘race hatred;” to reveal the true horror of an endless war by making the participants unkillable and sticking them in a singular space ship in the middle of nowhere; to imply that the combatants of war gain nothing from it, but outside or third-party entities will pull strings of their own design to profit from the conflict as long as possible; even to make an impassioned plea to camera to stop the endlessness of the conflict. Like I can’t even totally unpack this but it is a lot!

Finally, it was also a great Kirk episode, which of course is my most important factor. He’s smart; he’s strong; he’s so sure of himself and his values that he cannot be manipulated to mindless hatred, he represents the values of the Federation, and the show itself; he treats even his enemies with basic respect and humanity; and ultimately, he saves the day.

Okay I was not efficient in writing this up at all! It is very late!!

[fvckyouimaprophet]

“i was hitchhiking and you picked me up and WHOOPS YOU’RE A FAMOUS ROCKSTAR” au for Wolfstar!

Set in the 90s, so no cell phones. ✌️

Remus wasn’t entirely sure how he found himself here by the side of the road in Glasgow, thumb turned up. He had a hazy drunken memory of telling Peter to leave without him, and this morning when he woke up in their hostel bedroom, everyone else—all the other strangers they were sharing a room with—was there except for Peter. His bed was empty and his bag gone.

Remus’s head throbbed. He stumbled until he wasn’t too far off from the M8, away from the foot traffic. The day was thankfully overcast, and as far as Remus could see, rain wasn’t likely. But after three hours, his patience was beginning to wear thin.

He had almost given up, trying to think of alternatives but was drawing a blank. The best he could think of was using a pay phone to call his home number—the only one he could remember off the top of his head—but he filed it as a last case scenario.

Nearly four hours passed before a black car slowed down and pulled to the side. The driver rolled the tinted glass of the window down only so that Remus could see his sunglasses and nose. “Need a ride?” Under other circumstances, he would have found the stranger’s secrecy alarming, but Remus just nodded and made his way around, tossing his bag in the trunk and hopping into the passenger seat.

“Thank you so much. I—” Remus stopped and stared at the man in the driver’s seat next to him. “Holy shit.”

The guy laughed and pulled off his sunglasses. “Sorry for the mystery. I just try to be careful when offering strangers a ride.”

“You’re Sirius Black.”

He guy grinned and threw Remus a wink. “Well, I guess we won’t have to do introductions, then.”

“I’ve seen Canis Major play four times.” Remus swallowed thickly and took a deep breath to compose himself. “Remus Lupin.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Remus Lupin.” Sirius stuck out a hand, and Remus shook it. “Where are you headed?”

“Cambridge, but you don’t have to take me all the way. I know it’s far.”

“What rotten luck left you stranded that far away from home?”

“I’m not entirely sure. A friend of mine moved to Scotland for uni, and we met up in Glasgow for the weekend. I remember he said he needed to leave early, but honestly the night’s a little blurry,” Remus admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He was doing his best not to stare, but no matter how many times he put his attention toward the road, his eyes kept drifting back to Sirius.

“Been there more than I care to admit.” Sirius pulled up to a red light and turned for a moment to face him. “You in uni yourself?”

Remus nodded. “Classics and Ancient History.”

“Impressive.” Sirius’s attention pulled back to the road as the light changed to green. “If you need some water, by the way, I should have a bottle back there.” Sirius motioned toward the back seats. “It’s half-gone, but if you don’t mind sharing...”

Remus shook his head and reached around back, grabbing the water bottle. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’ve been standing outside for a while.”

“Let me know when you want to grab lunch. It’s going to be a long drive to Cambridge.”

Remus flushed. “You don’t need to drive me all the way there. That can’t be on your way.” Despite his words, he hoped that Sirius would push back.

“Nonsense. I don’t have anywhere I need to be urgently. Besides, it seems cruel to make you have to take who knows how many cars to get where you’re going.” Sirius waved his hand dismissively.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, and soon after Sirius turned on the radio, Remus found himself drifting. When he awoke, the sky was dark, and his stomach hurt. It took him a moment to orient himself, and when he remembered, he felt a knot grow in his stomach.

He was in a car with Sirius Black, and he’d managed somehow to sleep through the whole thing.

“Look who’s joined us again.” Sirius smiled kindly at him. “We’re nearly to Cambridge, but I’m feeling rather hungry. I imagine you are too. Let me take you out to dinner.”

Remus stared, taken aback by the kindness. “You know you have a bit of a reputation for being a smarmy bastard.” The words came out wrong, and he flinched at his own words. Luckily, Sirius just laughed.

“Depending on how the night goes, I’d say you might see that side of me as well.” The moment was so brief that Remus almost believed he was making it up, but he caught it as the corner of Sirius’s lips quirked upwards into a smirk. 

Tonight—Remus presumed—was going to be an interesting night.

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 5 - Dream

(I wanted to try a bit of a different style when writing this one. I hope it turned out alright.)

Night covered the sky, dots of white accompanying the glow of the moon. Arthur’s gaze peered out the window, the soft sound of music echoing through his room. He was hunched over his desk, just as always. When he wasn’t running around to chase the “supernatural” or helping his uncle at Kingsmen Mechanics, he busied himself with his projects. Between the blueprints, side notes, tools, and metal pieces littering the surface of wood, it was a wonder there was still brown peeking through.

His attention was pulled back down to the mess, somehow ‘organized’ in a way that only he knew. They briefly trailed over to the clock set upon a nightstand. Whoops. Guess he had been up longer than anticipated… again.

How could he not lose track of time when it came to something he was so passionate about? None of his other friends could understand it, nor could his uncle too much for that matter. Then again, it didn’t really matter if they did or didn’t. So long as he could share his fascination in the subject with those he cared about, then it was enough.

The blond pulled himself from his work, throwing back the covers of his bed. Settling down, he pulled the covers back over his form, eye drooping as the melody of music began to lull him sleep. Guess he forgot to shut it off. Oh well, he was already in bed. Surely no one would mind if it was left playing. Uncle Lance was probably asleep already anyways.

The soft humming swirled around him, beating in tune with his heart.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the window down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

The van hummed down the road, Lewis sitting at the wheel. He always seemed to be the one driving while the blond always fixed it when something went wrong. Should he not be the one driving it then? It never bothered him, and knew his friend was as careful as possible. None of them could foresee every event playing out before they arrived on the scene. Viv would find the haunts, be it through rumors, news articles, or some lead online. She could always find one without fail.

And then they were on the road without so much as a second thought.

Shouldn’t he be concerned with their safety? Of course he was, but he had their back. Shouldn’t he try and stop them, or mostly the bluenette, from chasing after danger? Of course, but he didn’t. Wasn’t he scared just about every time they went on one of these outings? Of course he was, but that didn’t stop him from coming. Truth be told, it never mattered what they were doing. They could be staring death in the face, and while he was sure he would cower in fright, he could never imagine abandoning his friends.

They meant everything to him, just as much as his uncle.

They might not have known it, but they gave him so much, and sometimes it felt like he could never give anything in return.

He could hear Vivi’s laughter from the front seat snap him away from his wandering thoughts. Mystery was up front with her, leaving him in the back. Anyone else might have been annoyed, but it never bothered him. All that mattered was that he was acknowledged. Anything else was far too petty to get upset over.

The van soon came to a halt, Arthur peeking over the back seats. The scene outside the window was about as much as he expected. Another creepy, old house, his friends outside… waiting for him. A smile formed on his face, hurrying out the back door to join them.

Yes, it truly didn’t matter how many times he got dragged along on their interest trips, or how many times he got scared, so long as they were there with him. They always protected him.

Arthur woke up in bed, a large smile covering his face.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream

The van hummed down the road again, the same one as before. Like always, his three friends sat in the front while he was relegated to the back. Everything seemed to be the same, but he could tell immediately that something was off. What was this strange feeling? Literally nothing had changed.

Except it had.

Lewis had taken his eyes off the road for just a moment, enough to lean over and kiss Vivi. Right… They were together now. What was once just three friends and their dog traveling across the country in hunts of the strange became a loving couple with their third wheel. Mystery didn’t really factor in that much between the scenarios, only now that he was the only one in the back, he truly did feel alone.

Why couldn’t the dog sit with him instead?

What difference did it make? It didn’t bother him before.

The bluenette turned her head over the seat. Vivi was a kind soul, even if over enthusiastic about her interests. She had so much affection to give to those she cared most for. She never did anything to make him feel like he was being pushed away. Where was that now? Everything that once made her bright began to dissolve. Their colors began to fade, leaving him the only bright being in the van. She turned back, a switch flipped. Why was he not important anymore?

Why couldn’t they seem to take notice of him anymore?

He reached out for her, for her… for them. The van stretched, the distance between them growing. When he tried to speak, no words came. His mouth opened and closed normally, but his voice was overtaken by silence. His desire to call out to them, to have them notice him like they always did, grew infinitely.

But he didn’t have that right didn’t he?

Who was he to come between them?

Arthur woke up in bed, his smile faltering.

And I never knew

All the things you do

And I guess it's cool to know the way you feel is true

And I wonder why

If there's no time

It feels like everything is lining up just right

Cold and damp.

Darkness seemed to surround him, the only light around him being the shimmer of green bouncing off stones. The low screech of bats rang out around him, fog encasing his body. It began to suffocate him, as if he were trapped in a small space, the fog stealing his breath.

Then a small flicker of hope.

In the center of the darkness was a wisp of orange flame. It floated in front of him, just out of reach. It contrasted the green around him, drawing the blond. Like a moth to the flame as the saying went. He wanted that flame. It would help him get out of this mess. He wasn’t entirely sure why he thought that, but it was one thing he knew for sure. If only he could get his hands to that flame. Fog gripped at him like chains, making him fight harder.

So close.

Not yet.

Tips nearly brushed the flame, hope blazing through his being.

Very well then.

The bonds loosened, his arm moving forward towards the light.

Orange fell at his feet, illuminating the cliff he now stood on. A cliff? When did he get here? How did he get here? Panic began to settle in. That sensitivity he could feel crackling from the flares was gone now. What changed?

A scream.

Head shot up in an instant. The scream was growing further and further away from where he was standing. It echoed off the walls of the cave he was in, green surrounding him once again. The cries soon came to a sudden stop, and only then did his body begin to move. Feet were placed over the edge, gaze looking over a sea of points. In between the gray that covered his vision was purple… and red.

Once again, his voice seemed to fail him, but one thing rang out in his head.

LEWIS!

Arthur woke with a start in his hospital bed, body shaking as pain snaked down his missing limb.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the windows down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

Green… there was nothing but green whenever he was awake. When there wasn’t green, there was black. Neither color brought him any kind of comfort, dread clinging to the very fibers of his being. Once again he found himself on that cliff, overlooking the mesh of the same three colors: gray, purple, and red. Green came into view again, only when his arms were stretched out.

Even there, it was always green.

But he knew how this would end. He had grown to anticipate it.

He would be met with pain.

Any moment now.

Any moment now…

Nothing.

This was strange. Why was there no pain? No monster to make him pay for whatever he had done? He could feel a strain on his mouth, one that someone might feel if they were smiling for too long. Iron hung in the air, his body finally turning away from the chasm. This was new. The smell just grew stronger as he followed the path down from the cliff. He could see more colors from the corner of his eyes. White, black, and red. Mystery?

That can’t be right. No wait, those were the same colors that matched the monster. What happened to it? And why was the iron the strongest around those colors?

They passed, a crossroads offered to him. He began one that led further down into the cave. Why go there?

He could hear crying. Wait…

Vivi?

Of course, she went down the other path. No.. wait, she went down that path! And he was heading down the same one. Both colors he passed were red, deep and pooling over the other colors. Blue began to mix with red in his vision before he could see the entrance to the lower level. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to see the red and blue together. He didn’t like all the red.

No! Please! Don’t!

Arthur woke up with a start in bed, hand clinging to his throbbing shoulder.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream

Tempo? What was he doing here?

Arthur was vaguely aware he had fallen asleep before appearing here. Where there was usually green was replaced with a clear sky hanging over their hometown. This was.. Very strange. Why was there no green anymore? Why was he here? And why was he standing outside Tomb Tome? This was Vivi’s workplace… but of all places, why here?

Amber eyes snapped forward, the woman of the hour stepping through the door. Almost immediately, she linked her arm with his own, the two now walking down the street together. Ok, still nothing too out of the ordinary. They were friends, and it was common for her to drag him all over the place. Arthur seemed to find his smile, listening to whatever it was she was rambling on about.

The road started to look familiar, recognizing it as the one that led to Vivi’s home. Ok, so maybe he was just walking her home from work. Friends did that. He took her up to the door, their arms finally breaking their link. They smiled at one another, Vivi getting closer to him.

Ok, that is strange.

The bluenette leaned up, planting a kiss on his lips. Nervousness wracked his body. Was it nervousness? Or was it excitement? What was wrong with him? He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along her cheek as he returned her kiss. There. Now he could see what was wrong.

His arm was green. He must not have noticed before since she linked with his metal arm.

This was wrong, all of it was. He wasn’t supposed to want her. He wasn’t supposed to share this kind of love with her. She loved another, even if she didn’t remember him. He wasn’t Lewis. He wasn’t her flame.

This was wrong!

Arthur woke up in the back of the van, Vivi resting at his side. He carefully slipped away from her, fleeing out the back doors.

You're my girl

But not my world

Don't get it twisted

You got me scared

I'm not prepared

And I really didn't mean to fall in love again

Arthur immediately found himself dropped in the mansion, the very same one the trio just escaped from. As if being chased through the halls by a flaming skeleton wasn’t bad enough to suffer through. That ghost wouldn’t give up on him, not until Vivi got in the way.

There was no Vivi this time.

The blond took off running, heat tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He didn’t dare look behind him, focusing on keeping his life. One quick glance down at his arm confirmed the green that always clung to his being. Ever since he started appearing in the cave, there was nothing but green over him. He couldn’t understand it. Why was it always green? Why him? What did he do to have this happen?

The hall never seemed to have an end. He would keep running, turning, running, then another turn, maybe an up, then down, but it never came to an end. He always ran. He was growing tired, his lungs burning from being unable to stop.

A voice echoed behind him.

“How dare you!”

Running.

“How could you take her away from me?”

Running.

“Monster!”

Running.

“Traitor!”

CRASH.

The blond looked upon the wall he crashed into. The hall finally came to an end. End of the line. His head finally turned over his shoulder, the ghost towering over him, far larger than he remembered. Everything was consumed by purple flames, his voice crying out for a mercy he would not receive.

Arthur woke up with a start in the van, hands clamped over his mouth to keep Vivi from waking up again. Best to get some work done on the van since he wasn’t going back to sleep.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the windows down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

Arthur killed Lewis.

He killed Lewis.

He killed his best friend.

How could he forgive himself for that? Suddenly so many things made sense. The reason why his skin was always green, even now. He looked like a monster because he was a monster. He’d killed someone. Should it matter that it wasn’t something he personally did, but rather under possession of another entity? No.. it was still his arm that did the deed.

He could hear Vivi crying. Was that because of her returned memories, or the realization that one of her best friends was a murderer? Regardless, he should comfort her. Strange that Lewis was not around. Oh right… he wouldn’t be because she didn’t fully trust him, not after trying to get revenge on Arthur. Another mess that was his fault.

He came over to her, wrapping his arms around her. This could only end in tears.

His skin was still green.

His hands moved up, hands closing around her throat. There were no spires to take the life away from her. He would have to do it himself. Tears raced down his face, feeling the fight leave her. He had killed once before, wait was another time? He hated this. He hated himself. He could never forgive himself.

Arthur woke up with a start in the hotel bed. They were out on a case, and he was in bed… alone.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love feels like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love feels like a dream

Two ghosts stared down at him as he burned. Purple and blue flames danced around him, his cries the song that kept them playing. He didn’t kill her, but he might as well have. The two people he cared about the most, and the two people he wronged. He deserved this. No. He deserved worse than this.

His life for theirs. He’d give it gladly. And he wouldn’t dare to come back.

They would be rid of the monster from their life.

Then, the flames suddenly came to a halt. The looming ghosts vanished, leaving his two best friends, in the flesh. What was going on? How did this happen? What were they going to do now? Was this a torture to remind him of the life he took from them? They approached him, but their arms wrapped around him. Their warmth swirled around him.

What?

He was hesitant to embrace them back, arms shaking as they moved up. He noticed something else that changed. His skin was no longer green. How long had his dreams been plagued with the image of the monster that took one life, and dreamed of taking another? How could he be forgiven? Tears came back to his face.

They saved him once. Did they do it again?

Arthur woke up in the hotel bed, Lewis and Vivi on either side of him. Their arms were wrapped around him, there to chase the demons in his head away.

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Nacho Memories || Cece and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Hospital PARTIES: @thebickedwitchoftherest​ and @chasseurdeloup​ SUMMARY: Kaden brings Cece some nachos while she’s in the hospital post scream. They go say hi to another friend. CONTENT WARNINGS: Memory loss, noncon (memory magic done on someone without consent) 

Cece was getting tired of Gossip Girl. Honestly, what station had so little of their own content to air that they decided that the best alternative was to show an entire day’s run of Gossip Girl? Had they even watched the show? It might have been okay but in 200- whatever but it was 2020. The show didn’t age well and wouldn’t stand the test of time. She shot off another text to Regan, a long string of one sided messages with nothing but the small check mark indicating that the message had been read to even prove to Cece that Regan was getting them at all. She had some fucking nerve. If you’re going to shatter a girl’s ear drum the least you can do is text her back. Cece deserved that much. Instead, Regan seemed content listening to Cece parody her own version of Gossip Girl through text. She was sitting in the hospital bed cross legged and shoveling jello in her mouth. The nurses hadn’t taken her seriously when she had asked for jello shots, so this bland shit would have to do. When there was a knock at the door, Cece groaned. But the door opened and thankfully it wasn’t a nurse or doctor and instead Kaden strolled in. Ironic that Cece heard from her bosses boyfriend before her actual boss following the incident. “Kaden! Thank god. Save me from this. It hurts my ears. And I’m not just saying that because my ears actually hurt. This show is going to make my ears bleed again.”

Kaden hated hospitals. A lot. Just being inside the doors made his skin crawl. Deep breath. He could do this. Plus, he needed some way to help this situation. There was shit all the Kaden could do for Regan at this point, she’d made that clear enough. If she wasn’t going to go to the hospital and check on her co-workers, her friends, that she put there, the least he could do was stop by. And he had to hope that Regan would be here if-- Well, if a lot of things were different.

And anyway, Cece was his friend, too. He didn’t know Grace half as well and it drove a pit deep in his stomach wondering if she had anyone coming to check on her. He sincerely didn’t know one way or another. He’d have to be sure to find out. He knew first hand being alone here was one of the worst feelings. “Hey. I brought nachos,” he said with a rap on her door as he swung it open. “I’m not sure if this passes for real food but it’s Blanche approved. I figured it’s better than whatever crap they were going to give you here either way.” He’d thought about smuggling wine in for her but something told him that was a bad idea, against the rules or something. He could only imagine the horrified look on Regan’s face at the mere suggestion. Right. Only imagine. He didn’t know how long he’d only be imagin-- No, not right now. “Putain. Why the hell are you watching that crap? There’s gotta be something better.”

“You’re a lifesaver, dude.” Cece tossed the jello onto the swinging tray and shoved the rack away from her, extending her hands in anticipation for the trashy junk food she had been craving for… well okay technically it had only been a day. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t hungry. “Well if cabbage patch approves then it must be quality food.” Cece laughed, wincing at the sudden pain in her ear but ignoring it. As far as injuries went, Cece’s had been the least traumatic. She hadn’t wanted to waste much time being a Debbie downer. “I don’t know, if I stop watching now Regan will never know what happens next. I think she’s starting to get attached.” Cece shrugged, opening the line of unanswered texts and showing it off to Kaden. She didn’t waste any time diving into the nachos, “You’re like my guardian angel. But scruffier. And moodier. And I never really pictured my guardian angel being French. Other than that, carbon copies.” In the middle of eating, she remembered that she had completely forgotten about Janus the janitor. She had checked on Grace, which had gone about as well as a nuclear meltdown, but his well being had slipped her mind completely. Whoops. “After I get done absorbing these nachos, I need to go check on a good ol Janus Jr. Care to tag along?”

“No problem. I’ve been in hospitals enough to know the worst parts,” Kaden said with a small shrug. Cece seemed like her perky self at least. Well, for the most part. He didn’t miss any of the scrapes and cuts, likely from exploding, broken glass. And the wince. He’d been around enough hunters to know that look when things were too loud. Guess he’d have to find a way to balance his voice between what she could hear and what would be painful. His stomach sank even further. It must be at the floor by now. This wasn’t his fault. And yet somehow he felt responsible in some way. He insisted Regan wasn’t dangerous. If he was honest with himself, part of him still was. It felt more and more like a lie every time. “You’re texting her updates about Gossip Girl?” he said, raising a brow, trying his best to push away the bile threatening to creep up his throat. “No wonder she’s ignoring you.” He tried to make it feel like a joke but it barely did. Regan shutting Cece out was shitty. Really fucking shitty. He wondered how long she’d be frozen out. Hell, he wondered how long he’d be frozen out even if it wasn’t as severe as hers. “Ah yes, just what I wanted to be. Truly, my goal in life. Maybe soon I’ll earn my win--” Putain. His foot seemed to take permanent residence in his mouth. Along with the bile. Fuck, wasn’t he here to make Cece feel better? Couldn’t even get that right. Then again, looking at her scarfing down the nachos, maybe he wasn’t doing too bad. “You are? Uh, yeah, sure. You checking on him or what?”

“You want some of these?” Cece decided to be nice and offer a few bites to Kaden before she accidentally finished them off herself. Luckily for her, she didn’t think she’d be in the hospital much longer. She had gotten off relatively easy, and once their results came back hopefully confirming that her brain wasn’t cream of wheat soup she was ditching this place so fucking fast. “Well I tried the whole normal texting her before this and she kept leaving me on read. I figured my best tactic is to just annoy the hell out of her until she has to reply.” Seemed like a good plan to Cece. Kaden began making a joke, one that she could only assume ended with wings. “What’s wrong K Den? Fae got your tongue?” She put heavy emphasis on the name, remembering the days of tiny Regan. If she hadn’t flown out a window and almost died, the entire scenario would have been very laughable now. Once the nachos were cleaned out and Cece had just held herself back from licking the container for the grease, she dragged herself out of the bed, “Sure. Yeah. Checking on him. Something like that.” Close enough at least, “You make sure I don’t fall over. My balance is still all fucked up.”

“All yours,” Kaden said, waving off her offer. Even if his stomach wasn’t churning, he didn’t need to unsettle it more by eating whatever horrors awaited in the pile of nachos. The thought of Regan getting a play by play of each and every episode of Gossip Girl made him laugh. Just a little. “Well hopefully it works. I think she’s pretty shut down. She’s at D--” His words stopped on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t sure that he was allowed to tell anyone where she was. It felt like a secret. Another one. One that wasn’t his to share. Not even with the person she nearly-- He bit the inside of his mouth a moment before pivoting. “She’s at a friend’s. For now. I mean I don’t know how long. I haven’t-- But at least she told me.” And made it his responsibility to let everyone she cared about know she was alive. Right. He knew she was hurting but more and more this felt unfair. Little things all stacked together in a pile he hoped didn’t fall and crush him under their weight.

“Yeah yeah, Celery. Very funny.” Kaden sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. As fucking stressful as it had been when she was lost and five inches tall, at least that one wasn’t her fault. Not that this was ei-- No. He wasn’t sure. It felt wrong thinking that this time. Even though it was essentially the same as every other death scream that she couldn’t predict or control. That didn’t make Cece or Grace any better off, though, did it? That didn’t make his duty as a hunter any-- “Uh huh. That makes it sound like you’re up to something,” he said, snapping out of his stupor just in time to catch her brushing her intentions under the rug. “I’ve got nothing better to do, why not. We’ll go when you’re ready. Just, uh, maybe stay on my left side. Right shoulder, uh, it... “ Maybe Morgan had a point about telling people when he got majorly injured. “Sort of got shot the other week but I’m fine. Just probably shouldn’t hold even your weight on that side. But hey if I make it worse, at least I’m in the hospital, right?”

“You got shot?” How had Cece not heard about this? “I’m going to start needing a weekly newsletter from you to catch up on the various ways that you’ve been injured.” Cece groaned. Could they go one week without some near death experience? “Oh yeah. I’m sure you’re so fine. Must be why I’m supposed to stay on your life side. If you weren’t already injured I’d punch you.” She still might, depending on her mood later. “Fine. Guess we can be injured together, wobbling down the hospital hallways like a couple of complete jackasses.” And they definitely did walk down the hallway that way, passing by Grace’s room where the door remained shut. Literally and figuratively. Cece’s speech hadn’t gone over so well with Grace. Now Grace was pissed at both of them. Maybe she could at least befriend Janus Jr. At least, assuming one of them didn’t die. That was what the whole scream thing was for right? Did Banshee’s scream for themselves? Or was the list narrowed down to three people? Did Regan have to be near them for the scream to work? Ignorance had never been a favorite of Cece’s. She hated not knowing.

The hospital door to his room was open and empty. Cece poked her head in to confirm that he was awake before sliding in. “JJ! Dumb question, but how are you feeling?” Cece gave him a thumbs up. He didn’t look much better than Grace had, with gauze wrapped around his head and a paleness to him that wasn’t comforting. “You know Kaden, right? He’s-” Maybe right now wasn’t the best time to mention that he was dating Regan. “An officer. He’s an officer. Works with the police department so we wanted to come check in. See how you were doing.” Janus perked up, if only for a moment. It looks as though a jolt of pain had mellowed him out again. Sitting up too quickly probably did it. “Miss Bishop. I’m glad you’re okay. Have you heard about Grace? I can’t believe what Dr. Kavanagh did. I’ve been trying to tell people, but nobody wants to believe me. I barely believe me. It’s crazy right?”

Oh boy. Cece didn’t like hearing any of that. “I’m okay. Grace will be too, just needs to rest some more. That’s actually what I’m here to talk about.” How to gracefully approach this subject? Cece had never been one to excel in tact. Glancing over at her current partner in crime she didn’t get the feeling that Kaden did either. “I think this was all some kind of misunderstanding. Just a weird fluke with no correlation at all. It doesn’t add up. So I was thinking, we all keep this little bit to ourselves? Maybe not mention Regan to people if they start asking. Until we figure out more.”

Cece had thought she had worded it nicely enough, tried to make it fit a narrative where they were doing it for good instead of just for Regan’s sake. Janus Jr didn’t agree apparently. “Miss Bishop I know what I saw. She could have killed all three of us. And she’s still on the loose. If we don’t tell people about what she did she could hurt others.”

“I forgot to tell people. And look, I’m fi--” Kaden’s jaw clenched down as he felt a sharp prick of pain through his side when she leaned on him, even though it was the good side. “I’m fine,” he assured, biting down and doing his best to keep any grimace off his face as they hobbled down the hallway. He prayed to every deity he didn’t believe in that Queenie didn’t walk down the hall at that exact moment. It would be just his luck. There was no way he was getting conned into staying in the hospital himself. That was an insult to every injury, physical or otherwise, he had just then and he couldn’t fucking handle it. He was held together by thread bare stitches as it was.

She was all charm and business as soon as they stepped in the room. Only Kaden didn’t know what business it was. He gave a small wave at the janitor when they entered. He visited the morgue enough that he recognized him, though not so much with the gauze on his head. He looked awful. A chill ran through him. If this had been caused by any other supernatural, by any other monst-- anything else, Kaden would have had his knife ready, out hunting, ready to save the day. He felt like he should apologize again. Was this going to keep happening? Putain. It only got worse once Janus started talking. He was upset and in pain and trying to tell people about the banshee who put him in the hospital. Even if he didn’t have the right words to describe it.

Kaden felt like the world might start spinning and reached out to brace himself on the frame at the end of the bed, but he thought better of it, clenched his fists and kept them by his sides instead. Cece had introduced him as a cop, not as Regan’s significant other. He didn’t know her angle just yet, but he could follow her lead. He swallowed down the panic, rolled his shoulders back, and exhaled any doubt that was creeping in, hardening his gaze to wipe any trace of emotion from his face. Then he realized what Cece was here for. To keep Janus quiet. His stomach churned again but his stare remained firm. Janus had a right to complain, to feel slighted, to want some justice for what happened. If it had been Deirdre who screamed, this conversation would be very different.

But it wasn’t Deirdre who screamed. “Are you dead, Mr….” Kaden didn’t know his last name. Putain. It wasn’t Junior.  “Janus. I’m sorry about your injuries. But you look like you’re still in one piece. Unless I’m mistaken.” He wasn’t sure Cece had experience with trying to wave the supernatural away from the uninitiated. Probably Either way, Kaden did. He was a hunter. This was par for the course. They had to keep the secret of the supernatural where they could. Let people live in peace. The success rate, well, it depended. “Speaking of, I don’t think you’re listening to Miss Bishop here. You might want to. For your sake.” He loomed over the edge of the bed and his eyes burrowed into Janus Jr., staring daggers into him. Kaden pushed aside all thoughts of his injuries and the guilt he felt by gaslighting this man. But it was for the best. “Dr. Kavanagh is not on the loose, we know her location, nor is she even a suspect at large. I think you might be mistaken. Would you like to try this conversation again?”

Cece liked the whole menacing act that Kaden had going. The first time she had ever met Kaden was him coming to kill those giant lobsters that had decided to raid her back yard. She knew that he wasn’t just all talk. She didn’t know his conviction when it came to strong arming humans. Especially helpless, sad ones like JJ. But maybe brute force wasn’t the only option here. Especially if his vague threats worked to scare Janus off.

“What’s happening here? Are you trying to protect her?” Janus asked, a panicked sound beginning to build in his voice. Cece and Janus Jr had always had a friendly enough relationship. Maybe the two were besties or anything, but they had conversations whenever he came around to clean up an area. “Why would you do that? She almost killed us. And then she just ran.”

Well, Cece couldn’t exactly argue against that point unfortunately. They could have died probably. Cece didn’t tend to hold that against a person, former coven life and all. But not everyone had the same experiences she had. “Janus. I need you to understand that Kaden and I are just looking out for what’s best for all of us. It’s harder to explain, so we just want to hold off until it makes more sense.” Logic had to work, right? This counted as logic, probably.

“No. No! You two are trying to threaten me into staying quiet! What about Grace? What about me? If she does whatever she did again then someone could die next time!” He was being way too loud for comfort now. Eventually, nurses would catch on and come in to check on them and in this frantic state, get Cece and Kaden thrown out. Talking wasn’t going to work here.

“Fine. Fine” Cece held her hands up in surrender and stepped away from Janus’ bed, “We didn’t want to threaten you. That wasn’t the plan here.” She took a few steps back and met eyes with Kaden, lowering her voice to barely a whisper knowing that he would still hear her. “Kaden. Close the door.” Her eyes flicked towards the door leading into the hospital hallway.

Yes, he was trying to protect her. Kaden hoped like hell it didn’t flash across his face like a neon sign lighting up. It felt like less and less like he had a grip on anything resembling his hunter code or training and somehow it was still twisted and wrung in the wrong direction given the application. He was supposed to protect humans from monsters. And here he was doing the exact opposite. His face felt flush. He breathed in and exhaled the panic and guilt away. Maybe he’d pick it up later. For now he was protecting the secret of the supernatural. And that required action not emotion. Upholding the code always did. “It’s not going to happen again. I can assure you that.” His words seemed to do little to comfort the man. And who could blame him. Everything Kaden said still probably sounded halfway underwater at best.

The man only got more frantic and Kaden shared a glance with Cece. He didn’t want to use violence. Not after— it wasn’t right. He’d been through too much already. And he was just a janitor, who could he possibly tell? His mother’s voice rang through his head, all the consequences of leaving open threads. But it wasn’t what stuck. It was Regan. If a warden caught wind of a banshee, more than they already had, a dangerous one at that, she was— Inhale breath, exhale the fraught. He nodded to Cece and followed orders. He closed the door and stood guard, waiting to see if she needed him by Janus or not. He still didn’t know her plan but he didn’t need to. He’d learn long ago how often it was better to just follow without asking questions.

“What is he doing? What are you doing?” Janus didn’t sound any less panicked, but Cece had never been more calm. She was in her groove now, something she had done so many times before. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and put on her best smile. “Don’t freak out. I’m not going to hurt you. I just need to make sure that we’re all on the same page here.” She moved over to his bed, his eyes widening in panic. “Seriously, JJ. Have you seen me? I’m five foot even, what could I possibly do to hurt you?” She pulled the old wooden chair that sat off from the bed closer to it and leaned against it, propping herself up. “I don’t want to do anything. I wanted to check on you and make sure that you’re going to be okay. I wanted to make sure that we all had each other’s backs.” Clearly that hadn’t been the case, so looked like it would be plan b instead.

“I want you both to leave. Right now.” The voice wasn’t nearly as friendly as it had always been in the morgue. Understandably, Cece supposed. Though she still wished that things could have gone differently. “I’m going to call the nurses!” He raised his voice, arms fumbling around for the call button. Cece gently placed her palm over it to block his grasp. “You want to know a secret about me, JJ? I’m a witch.” If it was even possible, his face paled even further. He looked like nothing more than a ghost by now. “I know, I know. Unbelievable right? Turns out they’re real. And so are banshees. That’s what Regan is. There are even hunters that have super strength,” Cece gestured over to Kaden still standing by the door. “Crazy world, right? You’ll see that super strength here in a minute.” By now, Janus was in hysterics, whining and thrashing about. It wasn’t easy to watch, but if Cece was going to protect Regan and keep Janus and Grace safe this was how it was going down apparently. “No need to throw a fit, dude. You can yell as much as you want. There’s a sound barrier around the room. No noise gets out of the bubble.” She turned to Kaden, “He’s going to hurt himself if he keeps thrashing around like this. I need you to hold him down. I won’t be long, and he won’t tell anyone about her.”

Kaden did what he could to ignore Janus, not respond to any of his questions, verbally or otherwise. Simply stood by the door and watched Cece, eyes hard, stare cold. At the harsh tones from the janitor, however, he tread closer to the bed, slowly making his way back to the bedside, just in case. Cece had his hand when he tried to call for the nurse. Good. What was less good was the witch spilling all her secrets. And Regan’s. Even his. His expression betrayed him for a second, his brows pulled together and his eyes went slightly wider as she continued on. What the hell was she doing? That was going to make it better not worse. “Cece,” he said, firm, but a brief hint of a question rising at the end. Why was she telling him this? What the hell was her plan?

No. Don’t question. That wasn’t his role, that wasn’t part of the code. Kaden trusted Cece. He had decided that when he followed her into this room and every moment since. Now wasn’t the time to stop simply because his stomach was upside and in a tangled mess of knots. Still, he didn’t need orders from her to know what it was he was being asked to do. As the janitor thrashed and panicked, Kaden reached over and pinned the man down by his shoulders. The harsh look on his face should be enough to convey the message to stay still, don’t move. If he moved it would only get worse. In theory at least. Looking at Janus’s frightened eyes was too much. He chose to focus on an earlobe instead. “What are you doing, Cece?” he asked, voice steadier and sharper than it has business being while he was holding a scared, injured man down to a hospital bed awaiting whatever magic his friend planned to perform on him.

Cece rubbed her palms together in preparation. Magic was exhausting. Use too much of it and it could knock a perfectly healthy person out for a day straight. In Cece’s current state, she would have to be precise. She couldn’t spend any time wasting the little energy she had. Memory magic was exact, she had to know exactly what memories she was trying to extract or she would end up wrecking the man’s entire life. At the moment, between the specificity of the memories and Cece’s own exhaustion she was walking a fine line. This was risky, but she couldn’t see much of a choice. If she was forced to pick between the janitor and Regan there wasn’t any choice to make. “I’m helping him forget.” Cece tried to put it in the kindest terms she could manage. For Janus’ sake and her own. She pressed a hand against his forehead, feeling the man still strain against Kaden’s grip. Tough luck breaking from those super strength biceps. She moved her hands to either side of his face, pressing the tips of her fingers against the man’s temple. As she began concentrating, her finger tips began glowing. They would be hot to the touch because of the building magic, though Janus wouldn’t be able to feel it. The memory magic worked to put him into a coma of sorts as she shifted through. He would finally stop struggling against Kaden as Cece closed her own eyes to begin searching.

The morgue was first. She dug into his memories, pulling the day prior’s events. She needed to be careful. Pull out too much and she risked permanently harming the man. Too little and he might begin memories bits and pieces of the memory and fit things back together. He needed to get every moment from the time that he walked into the room until he was unconscious and taken to the hospital. The energy drained from her quickly. Her face broke out into a sweat and she struggled to finish the memory out, pulling everything free and pulling her hands away. “I’m gonna need your help.” Cece admitted, glancing over at Kaden, “I’m almost done. But I’m tapped out on energy. I need to steal some of yours.” She wasn’t asking as much as filling him in on what had to be done. “All you have to do is grab onto my arm when I start again.” Once the two were on the same page, Cece touched his temples and jumped back in for the second part of his memories.

If he were to look down at himself from above, Kaden was pretty sure with some objectivity he could see how wrong this was. He knew it deep down from where he was standing. But he forced it away, focused on holding Janus steady. He didn’t want to break any bone, but he couldn't let the man move or get away. Memory magic. To help a banshee. No, not just a banshee. A woman that he loved. Who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn’t do it on purpose. She had no control. And none of that was her fault. He felt Janus’s pulse pounding beneath his grasp, wild and frantic, could feel his breaths, short and panicked while Cece dug into the man’s mind. This man didn’t do anything wrong either. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. His grip loosened. Just for a moment. He felt the janitor’s arm slide, just a touch, and Kaden snapped back, tightened his hold, made it a little firmer.

Kaden hated this. It was easier to just ignore it, zone out, let it happen. All the same, he wanted it to be over. And he thought it nearly was. He was ready to let go and move away when Cece said something about help. “What? Energy? My--” Kaden grumbled. “Putain.” People were always draining his energy for magic. At least this time he wasn't at risk of getting possessed by a poltergeist. He hoped. “Hurry up.” He sighed and adjusted his hold on Janus before he reached out to her and took her arm as she started carving out the man’s memory again. Make it quick was all he could hope. His resolve could only last so long. His mother was right all those months ago. He was slipping on his training.

Almost done. Cece kept reminding herself that as she dug into this innocent man’s life. She had really wished that he had just agreed to keep his mouth shut. She found the hospital next. She had to pull every word that he spoke to the nurses. Any thoughts of Regan. In the end, it had been easier to just wipe everything from the hospital. From the moment he regained consciousness up to the moment he lost it again when Cece began the spell. It wasn’t clean or neat, but it got the job done. Best case scenarios, the person would wake up feeling completely normal after memories were pulled. If the job was done swiftly and precisely. This had not been the case. By the time Cece pulled away Janus Jr she was breathing heavily, dizzy and slightly nauseous. Even with Kaden’s help it had taken a lot out of her. “I’m done.” She fell back into the chair that she had pulled up earlier. Between that and the sound barrier, she had tired herself out completely. A glance at Kaden told her he was in a similar situation. Though she couldn’t tell if he was physically tired or mentally from what they had just done.

“Miss Bishop?” Cece heard his voice first. She had been leaning against the back of the chair while facing towards the ceiling. She only moved when she heard Janus Jr’s voice. “Where are we? What happened?” She stood up too quickly, blood rushing to her head and forcing her to pause. “Hey! You’re awake! There was an accident at the morgue,” Cece began glancing over at Kaden and shrugging. At least it looked like it was a success, “Bad wiring. Some lights exploded and you got knocked down. I think you hit your head or something. The alarms started going off. It was chaos.” The lies came easily to her, and as she explained them the door pushed open and a nurse came into the room. “We shouldn’t keep you up to long. You should get some rest, okay? Kaden. Let’s let JJ rest.”

The second Cece said she was done, Kaden let go and backed away. He knew damn well Cece knew what she was doing, had seen her work magic quite a few times now, and still, every time he forgot just how powerful magic could really be. It was easy to think of his friends who were casters as human and just his friends who wouldn’t harm anyone. That was, until he saw them work. Until he saw just how easy it really was for Cece to wipe a man of his memories. Sure, she was barely standing now and he rushed over to stand beside her, just in case she passed out, but all the same. Looking at Janus, blinking at them, asking them questions, as friendly as he was when they’d walked in, it was almost hard to picture the trashing and frightened look on his face. Almost. “Yeah, that’s what happened. We just stopped by to check on you, that’s all.” Kaden didn’t see any hint in the man’s eyes of recognition or questioning beyond some basic confusion. It had worked. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” He followed her out of the room, keeping close by as they hobbled back, more weary than on their way here. Kaden considered asking her about that, how often she’d done it, why she really thought that was the only thing to do. Had she done it to Grace? He realized, though, some questions were best left unanswered and some memories were best left forgotten.

[justphilia]

Aubade is a great fic; too bad it’s possibly dead.

Been a while since I did a long long babble on a fic I like, and lately, I’ve been rereading a few fics to fuel my entertainment. I low key notice how rare it is to find a multi-chaptered fic for Ritshou that doesn’t have Terumob as main, which is really funky honestly.

I talked about Aubade once, in my list of incomplete fanfics I missed back in like February. But it’s so good, I’m gonna make a long post about it lmao.

Even though this fic has literally taken the number one ranking in my favorites list, it only took today for me to bookmark it in my ao3 (mostly because I’ve been waiting it for it to be completed before doing so.)

And generally, anything that I bookmark on ao3 is something I’ve cried about at least once, whether it’s because of the story or because I love the story too much. So anyways,

Aubade by Ravenesta is a M rated Ritshou fic centered around Ritsu, who moves in with Shou after Shou declared he was going to stay in Japan for good.

They buy an apartment together near Ritsu’s university and go on a shopping spree in IKEA for furniture and such, which is as chaotic as it doesn’t sound. The tension between them is real and it’s there, so much so you just want them to get together already sometimes.

I’ve read this fic for a total of 4 times, and I will keep rereading it until the day I die. If you asked me what would come to mind if I thought about Ritshou, it would be the fic’s summary;

My dove, my doe, I love you so I cannot, will not, let you go

Ritsu and Shou have been orbiting around each other ever since they were thirteen years old. Really, something like this was inevitable.

It’s so simple and sweet, and somehow, without fail, every time this summary (specifically the poem) comes to mind, I would get teary eyed. Even now I’m getting :’( over the poem, just because it literally speaks Ritshou to me.

The fic starts off with Ritsu heading back home by train to Seasoning City during his summer break from college in Grain City. It’s written in a way where it’s very easy for you to visualize the scenario of Ritsu waiting for the train to come while holding a cup of cheap coffee.

It’s realistically detailed too, going as far as to include little quirks about Ritsu and the people around him (stranger or not).

Both Shou and Shigeo gets introduced during a phone texting scene, where you can easily tell their personality was conveyed right through the way they message Ritsu. Shigeo adds little face emoticons with caring and sweet messages, and Shou shortens his words to ‘u’ and ‘ur’ with chaotic spacings between words and many exclamation marks.

Even Ritsu has his own way of messaging, always adding punctuation to his sentences.

Later on, after Ritsu arrives in Seasoning City, he’s picked up by Shigeo and Teru, who are already a couple in this fic, and you can tell how much Ritsu misses his home.

Teru is such a beautiful mess in this fic, everything about him is dramatic and overtop, going from his haircut to his little diet habits, and he’s still playful with Ritsu. The ‘Little Brother’ nickname will never go away.

(Also, at some point, Ritsu makes a face immaturely after seeing Shigeo drop a kiss on Teru’s head and I think that was pretty funny)

(Also also, they all call Reigen ‘Dad’. Which is hecking adorable, but it did confuse me at some point because Ritsu named Reigen’s contact as Dad and I legitimately thought that was Ritsu’s actual dad until later.)

Fast forward after Ritsu gets a haircut from Teru in Spirits and Such. Pretty funny considering how Reigen did the same thing to Serizawa in Season 2, but I’m mildly sure Serizawa doesn’t exist in this fic so it was probably a coincidence.

So they’re going shopping and Ritsu gets another text from Shou, because Shou isn’t in town, or at least, that was what we were led to believe, until he does pop up. 

And it wouldn’t be Shou if his appearance isn’t random, so of course his first line is to comment on Kiwis looking like balls.

Ritsu, being Ritsu, responds by calling Shou an asshole and proceeds to be conflicted between wanting to punch Teru, because he knew all along, or wanting to hug Shou, because Ritsu misses him so much. He goes for the latter.

Cue Shou and Ritsu hanging out because Shigeo and Teru had to go save Reigen from a spirit job, and their interaction is just so Ritshou it makes you feel fuzzy inside y’know? Because it’s just...friends being friends.

Ok so fast forward again, and they’re sitting around in Ritsu’s room and here’s where the plot begins:

Shou, sleepily, declares he wants them to live together, before suddenly falling asleep.

And Ritsu panics because he can’t tell if he’s serious or just sleep drunk. So he consults Teru to confirm this, who answers that, yes, Shou was being serious, and this just makes Ritsu panic even more because wow he did not expect that and mostly because he can’t afford an apartment.

Shou, being the rich boy he is, offers to settle the payment, because of course he would.

Ritsu weighs his options in his head and convinces himself that he’ll do it. So that’s what they do. They make a little list, which is funny and adorable, and start scouting for apartments online.

Fast forward yet again and Ritsu’s plan was to first gather his shit from his dorm room, crash there for a bit, before fully moving into the new apartment.

Reigen, Teru, and Shigeo are seeing the two off at the train station, and Reigen being Reigen, he’s all double checking that Ritsu has all his shit and it’s just such a dad moment.

Most of their luggage is Shou’s because Ritsu packs light and most of his things are at the dorm, and I brought this up because of this scene:

“It’s my oldest friend!” Shou had argued, trying to wrestle it from Ritsu’s hands. “Six years I have known you, Suzuki, and never once has there been a working bulb in this lamp.”

We get a few more cute scenes of Shou running around and being playful before being tired out and falling asleep on the train, and there’s this tender moment where Shou’s snuggling on Ritsu’s jacket, which the latter had taken off early, and he makes a comment saying how it smells like Ritsu which just baffles the only. It’s...nice, makes me fluffy.

Anyways they reach Ritsu’s dorm to crash and pack, and they have this scene where Shou gets a little emotional about how organized Ritsu is, and he genuinely couldn’t believe how Ritsu is making this work. 

So! Chapter 6, alright! And it’s the apartment viewing chapter, because of course they need to view apartments before moving in (which is as fun as it sounds).

They view 3 apartments, with the third try being the charm;

Apartment 1 fucking sucks! And Ritsu only chose this because he wanted to get a feel of how apartment viewing works, and you gotta hand it to him for thinking ahead. So no matter what, he knows he won’t be buying this apartment.

Apartment 2 was actually pretty decent, the landlord, however, was not. Throughout this scene, she is constantly trying to get into Ritsu’s space, and you don’t exactly know what’s up until the very end where she gets really close. Shou saves Ritsu in the end by dragging him away and making it known that, “THIS IS MY MAN DO NOT TOUCH.” And makes an enemy out of her, so big whoops.

Apartment 3 is kinda awkward but workable, with their landlord being the sweetest man to walk this earth. His kids were born on the viewing day, which made him a little late, though Ritsu finds in understandable. After the viewing, Ritsu asks if they can crash at the apartment even though they haven’t actually gotten it yet, and the man’s like, “Don’t worry, you’re gonna live here anyways so might as well crash here now!” Protect this man.

Next scene we have Ritsu finally moving out of his dorm and into the apartment with Shou and after getting a few groceries, they finally decide they should head to IKEA for furniture. It’s a pretty funny scene because everyone knows IKEA is an equivalent to a bloody maze, so you get to watch them play around in the display rooms and climbing into beds and getting lost.

And it’s funnier because this is the Shou’s first time stepping foot into an IKEA, and Ritsu makes fun of him for it briefly. Shou gets back at him later on when they’re playing around in a bathroom display room.

he doesn’t quite notice where Shou’s wandered off to until he turns around from a bathroom sink and spots him in a shower stall, calling him over with a wave of his hand. Ritsu steps inside, ducking his head under the bar for the shower curtain

He almost startles when Shou reaches over and pulls the shower curtain closed with a flourish, leaving them enclosed in the shower stall, somehow still mysteriously lit by no lamp that Ritsu can see. He shoots Shou a questioning look, only to snort when Shou leans back against the shower wall, a hand over his heart and eyelashes fluttering.

“Why, Mister Kageyama,” he says, all false coquettishness, “Cornering a young girl like me alone in a place like this? How scandalous.”

He considers giving Shou the reaction he wants, a laugh and a shove on the shoulder and possibly a comment about exactly how classy making out in an IKEA shower stall is, but the reaction he’d gotten earlier was too good to resist playing along with the joke.

He shamelessly uses his height advantage when he steps into Shou’s space, one leg between Shou’s and a hand propped casually on the wall beside his head. He leans down so that their noses are almost touching, and says low, “Well with you standing here all gorgeous like this, how could I resist?”

It’s pathetic joke flirting, some cheesy disaster line out of every old black and white movie he’s ever watched with his mother, so he doesn’t quite expect it when Shou seems to freeze, eyes wide and locked onto Ritsu’s. It’s only for a few seconds, a barely noticeable pause before Shou’s howling with laughter as he pushes past him out of the shower, but Ritsu gets caught on it, on the hitch he thought he’d heard in Shou’s breath, on the way he feels oddly wired, like his skin is buzzing from the proximity, and what the fuck had just happened?

This scene, ladies and gentlemen, had me sold on the fic. Starting with how Shou had playfully dragged Ritsu into the display shower in an attempt to tease Ritsu, only to be surprised that Ritsu had played along because, according to Ritsu, the raven would usually just laugh and dismiss the joke as a joke. 

You can literally see that’s where the subtle feelings come out, where their friendship suddenly moves a bit faster into something more. It’s a slowburn for a reason, because their relationship happens really slow, so it’s moments like these that makes you really warm inside.

We come to a near end to the fic from here, which includes a scene where Shou cooks and Ritsu has a wet dream that’s pretty brief tbh and nothing too explicit don’t worry. Then there’s some scenes where Ritsu’s doing school things and Shou’s being Shou in the kitchen and everywhere.

It slows to a stop after the iconic Shou and Ritsu flies scene, because we’re all suckers for Ritsu trusting Shou that he won’t drop him when they fly.

SO! You can pretty much get the idea of how the fic will end/go from there since the major arc scene has been settled (moving in together). And frankly, if Ravenesta was to stop the fic on chapter 9, I don’t think we’ll lose too much since the only thing we didn’t get is a conclusion to the slowburn.

If you’ve read up to here, thanks for indulging me I suppose. I mostly write little reviews for my own sake since I really talk too much and it’s very hard to collect my thoughts at times.

Is this a fic I would recommend? Most definitely yes, it’s lovely, it’s well written, it’s captivating. It is the embodiment of Ritshou’s romance, and I really wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

[imbellarosa]

Okay so every time people question individual lines of lyrics, all those BNFs in particular practically come at people's throats for merely asking a totally valid question. Look, I get it. I've been a Lit student. I get that you can't take everything literally bc often in poems esp, it's all a carefully constructed metaphor which you have to dig deep to understand. But in terms of lyrics, everyone is always prattling on about not taking it word for word, understanding it can refer to arguments

& just emphasising 'the whole picture' & DO NOT FOCUS ON THAT ONE LYRIC. But sometimes I am so lost, like with all those lyrics e.g. 'we were in love, now we're strangers' or 'Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too', what other way are you supposed to read them if not literally? I just don't understand. This is not a question craving reassurance that they're not broken up or whatever. I have faith in them, and I'm not looking for that. But really, at the end of the day,

3. I truly do not blame people for thinking that. I know all those BNFs LOVE to have their superiority complex and snub anyone who has doubts or asks questions about hl's lyrics bc gosh they've been there since day 1 and are NEVER wary/cynical of their lyrics bc hl are perfect & it's impossible they broke up (as if we actually know them??), but I get it. I don't have an anxiety attack over lyrics like that, I don't think they are broken up, but I am mystified as I mull over them to my wits end.

4. Alright whoops so I may have gone off a tangent (unexpectedly so) but I hope someone can at least see where I'm coming from. There was supposed to be a question in there haha but I just rambled on a lot. Since I admire your flair for reading lyrics like literature and really capturing the nuances of their writing in your analyses, I wanted to know, how do you deal with lyrics like that? What thoughts do you have and how do you read them more metaphorically when it seems far too literal?

hahahaha UR TRYING TO GET ME IN TROUBLE WITH OTHER FANS I SEE U ANON kasdjfkjdak but thats okay.  first of all i LOVE this rant let’s DISCUSS lyrics! I think there are two possible scenarios here, that we can explain in different ways, as long as we are in agreement that they at least fudged some parts of the truth. There was no two-year gap, just with the timeline, there was no uni, things like that. Those things have been shifted to fit with a narrative, and I get that - they’re storytellers! So, given that, I see two possibilities.

The first possibility is what I call Operation: Superman. By day, these guys are Superman, flying around, flashing their ability, being a rock star. By night, they’re mild mannered reporter Clark Kent who just wants to go on a date with their pretty coworker (I actually really love this metaphor lmao). This means that, just like Clark Kent (or Lois Lane I think she did most of the writing), the feelings behind the words they write are true (”Superman strives to be a symbol of hope, truth and justice”) while the actual words written (”Superman is an unidentified alien who likely is *insert massively untrue thing here* irl”). For these guys, that might mean that “We were in love, now we’re strangers” translates into “people used to see that we’re special to each other, and now they see us as strangers” (lmao @ the story that they wrote perfect in separate rooms), and “maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too” could translate into “we really got into it, and this feels like a delicate moment, and you SUCK at saying sorry, and I wish you would, because you were wrong, too”. Heartbreak comes in many different forms, and using one kind of grief to write about another is a tactic that I’ve used a lot in the past for my own healing process. So maybe that FEELING of being alone and lost and desperate for someone to reach out and see you is real, but the situation (i.e. ‘this is about a break up’) is made up. Goodness knows that much more has been made up for much less, and this way, no one knows who Superman really is. 

The second possibility is that they broke up for a period of time. Looking at some of the more extensive archives, if i had to guess when, I would say that it was likely Feb 2016-Oct/Nov 2016? Because Louis has talked quite a bit about how when his mother took a turn for the worse, his partner was really there for him, and how it brought them closer, and the lessons it taught him about being a partner. Let’s be clear: “we were having a hard time and they stepped up and we became stronger because of it” does not have to mean “we were on a break” - it could totally mean ‘we were fighting a ton and had no clue what would be next and it wasn’t fun anymore’. But if we take it to be that they were on a break, then the lie isn’t ‘we broke up’ the lie is ‘i was broken up with someone for a few years’. 

I can see the arguments for and against both of these possibilities, and idk which I’m more inclined to believe. Sometimes I’m like “they’re Superman!” and other times I think “eh, they probably did take a break in there somewhere”. So the way I look at the lyrics is as if the whole thing was a story, and I look at them in context of the larger story.:

The first step is “what is literally being said in this song”

The next one is “what is the theme of this song/the emotion driving it, and what does that say about the person writing it”

the third one is “where does this fit in the time it was written? who would have influenced the song? what was happening at the time?” 

And from that, just like from any book, we can build an analysis. I *really* feel that answering those three questions can tell you what you need to know about how literal any given song is! We can even do a quick run through - let’s do ‘Miss You’:

The song is literally saying that they miss the person they’ve been with for a long time, and that they wish they could go back to what they used to be 

The emotions driving the song are regret, loneliness, bitterness, and longing 

They were massively pushing ‘ reformed (ish) party boy Louis’ at the time, and the song fits that narrative well. When the song was released (Dec 2017) , he’d just gotten back together with Eleanor (Feb [?] 2017)so it would have been a reflection of that time they spent apart, and how he felt when he was alone. Given that we know he’s not actually dating Eleanor, we can assume that they narrative and the things that push that might also tilt towards “not literally true”. The song was written by 7 people, and any number of people could have taken the emotions driving the song and come up with different lines, and Louis could have connected with those lines for different reasons, some of them being more literal, and some more emotional/metaphorical. 

And then, taking all those components, you decide on what you think is the most likely read of that song. I can’t tell you what to think things are about, you know? No one can! I can only tell you what *I* think makes most sense when you put art in the context in which it was written, because nothing is ever created in a bubble.  

[bookstryingtostealyourheart]

Swimming Instructor Richie Tozier

A/N: hey, i got a few requests, and they will hopefully be done today! I have no plans for the day, so go on over to my post on who requests are open for, and let me know who you want me to write for. I am trying to get in a few posts before I leave on vacation. Hope you enjoy, always leave feedback <3 This is kinda short, let me know if you want more Richie. It’s kinda sh*t but I know fluffy richie would still try to act all tough for the boys and be like “shhhh they can’t know i love you” lmaooooo. Next up is a Klaus mikaelson so buckle up my loves. 

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Request: “Cute fluff scenario with Richie Tozier where he teaches his s/o how to swim” @slasher-fanatic 

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It was not uncommon for Richie and the boys to show up at your house uninvited, actually it was routine for when they dropped by...not that you cared. You and Richie had been a thing since after the Pennywise incident, and even though he doesn’t seem like a soft and lovable boyfriend, he sure does have his lovable moments. 

So when the boys (and bev) showed up to your house, you were pleasantly surprised. “Hey! Y/N, we’re going down to the quarry for a swim, wanna come?” Richie pipes up with a smile, and you almost say yes, but you hesitate. He will laugh in your face when he finds out that you don’t know how to swim, right? Yea, you can’t let him know that. 

You shake your head, giving your boyfriend a little sorry smile. “Sorry Richie, can’t go today, I’ve got plans.” You ruffle his hair slightly and Eddie boos you. the boys have come to like you a lot. It was awkward at first, alike their experiences with Beverly, but they warmed up to you very easily. 

“What? Who could possibly be more interesting than seeing me in my swim suit?” Richie half teases, giving a pouty face. Stan snorts, rolling his eyes at the comment. 

“Swim suit? More like tighty whities.” Stan corrects him and you scrunch up your nose. As much as you’d love to see Richie in his underwear, you weren’t all that comfortable with sitting there and watching them all have fun in the water while you sit there clueless. 

“Hey Richie, can I talk to you?” You ask tugging lightly on his shirt sleeve. He looks down at your hand through his thick glasses and back up to your hopeful and big doey eyes and nods, entering the house with you. The boys stay outside, getting the hint that this was not their conversation. It was a nice sunny day anyways, and they did not want to be locked inside when they could be soaking in the sun. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Richie asks raising an eyebrow. He is still awkward in your house, standing at the front door, hands in his pockets, eyes searching the area he has seen at least ten times before like it is new to him. 

“I don’t know how to swim...” You pipe up and he seems taken aback for a second, eyebrows furrowed before he shrugs half heartedly. He saw no problem with that, maybe if you weren’t so uncomfortable with the fact, he would have cracked a joke. But he can tell you were expecting a different reaction. But then he got a fun idea, his eyes lighting up behind the rims of his glasses. 

“So? Who cares? I’ll teach you.” He says with a goofy grin, making your shoulders come from their sad and slouched position. He was excited to teach you how to swim, as the only times anything like this has happened, it had been you doing the teaching. He got to feel like the one in control, the helpful one. He’d take that job any day of the week. 

“You’d do that?” You ask with a small smile on your face, he scoffs, like you’re the craziest girl in the world, laying an arm around your shoulder as he smirks lightly. 

“Duh, anything to get you in your undies sweetheart.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, where the boys were all sitting around, talking about something irrelevant as they waited. You shook your head at his comment, knowing that he was doing it for more than just to see you in your underwear. whether he admitted it or not, he was a soft guy, and this was gonna be a bonding experience for the both of you. 

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Arriving at the quarry, the boys all scurried to the top of the cliff, except Richie, who stayed back with you. “Lets walk down to the water and start there. You’re not like...afraid of water, are you?” He asks stripping down to the same white bottoms that all of the boys were wearing. You shook your head, starting down the trail towards the murky lake water. You heard whoops and cheers as Bev barreled into the water, followed by Billy, Stan, Mike, Ben and finally Eddie. It made you smile, reaching the water and stripping off your shirt and shorts. Richie let out a cat call playfully, and the two of you walked to the water, hand in somewhat sweaty hand. Although Richie had talked about being so experienced, it had taken him a long time into the relationship to even hold your hand, let alone kiss you. He was so very smitten with you though, probably not wanting to mess anything up, or being a little nervous/insecure himself. 

“So you know, this part is the easy part, getting into the water.” Richie says as you approach the water, him leading you in somewhat slowly. The water is not awfully cold, but refreshing enough. There was slight murkiness of the water, but that wasn’t all that important to you. getting up to your hips, Richie stopped and looked at you. “If you want to get out or something, let me know.” He warns and you nod reassuringly. The two of you venture out the little more until you are out to your shoulders. You’re not far from the rest of the gang, so it does not seem all that scary to you. 

“Ok what now. This is probably so simple.” You ask and he shrugs. Everyone knows that when you first learn to swim, the scariest part is actually just doing it. Stopping worrying about the what ifs and just worrying about the actual important stuff, like not going out too far and et cetera. 

“So the most important thing about swimming is being able to tread water. You want to be able to stay afloat when you are over your head. You gotta paddle your feet, move your arms. Don’t go too hard or you’ll tire yourself out. Slow and steady. Don’t stress yourself out. I’ll come over to the guys, and you'll try it. There’s only about two or so feet until we reach them. It won't be all that deep so it is a good start, and anything happens, I’ll come get you. Ok?” He gives you a pat on the shoulder and heads out to the boys. You take a deep breath and try to do as he says, paddle your feet, move your arms slightly. It was a rocky start as you got into where your feet didn’t touch, but the boys backed up a little, wanting you to go a little farther. But when you finally reached them, they all gave you a little cheer. Very supportive in the very least. 

“G-good job Y/N.” Bill complimented with a small smile, the others nodding, Richie held you, so you were not tiring yourself out. 

“I know, my girlfriend is not chicken. I knew you’d get it.” Richie says with a scoff, rubbing your back gently as Stan suggests chicken, saying they could go back to where they could reach and get in a good game. Eddie shivers at first but nods, agreeing but only if he gets to be Stan’s partner. Mike and Ben paired up, Bev and Bill, Eddie and Stan, but Richie pulled you aside. “Wanna practice some more, get you comfortable?” He asked, liking how it felt to be the one who would end up helping you if you needed it. Richie clearly was not the biggest and toughest, so being able to have the chance to be the savior, he’d take it. You nod, sending him out deeper into the water and waving you to come to him. That’s how you spent the last of the day, Richie complimenting you quietly when you made it to him, but flirting with you aloud so the boys could hear it. Things like: Y/N careful with the hands my love, there are others around... when he really wants to say: you’re doing great, best learner I know. And now, you’re probably a better swimmer than him, even though he might not ever admit that....you now swimming as good as you do, has him as a proud boyfriend (which gets him made fun of by the other guys of course). 

[lhs3020b]

Boris And the Baddest of Bad Weeks

I promised an expanded entry on what’s going on at the moment in our national meltdown, so here it is...

Allow me, if I may, to walk back an earlier comment of mine. Some time ago, I was distinctly skeptical about the idea of an early general election. However, the situation has evolved. You see, there was one thing I didn't count on. I never imagined that Boris Johnson would be stupid enough to force nearly two dozen of his MPs out of his party.

That's right: I over-estimated his intelligence. Umm, whoops.

In my defence, what he did may well have been the single most utterly-stupidly self-defeating maneuver ever in British politics. The only sense I can make from it is that he's having a narcisistic breakdown. Actually, viewed in that very narrow light, perhaps it does make a little sense. If you've ever had the misfortune to have a narcissist in your life, you'll be aware that the thing they just can't cope with is any sort of rejection. The "no"-word tends to summon a meltdown - and of course BoJo faced a pretty major series of "nopes" from Parliament this week.

The other thing I didn't count on was that apparently yes, there actually are some things that some Tory MPs just won't do, even if the consequences of Not Doing The Thing runs to damaging their personal careers. This did come as a surprise to me - I'd assumed that blind partisanship and the desire for salaries would ultimately trump - or perhaps, Trump - all other concerns. But no, credit where it's due, it turns out that for at least 21 of them, there was a floor on the greed after all. Admittedly it's taken us three years of accelerating chaos to find it, but it was there.

The next factor that I didn't count on was that the opposition parties got their act together. Bluntly, there was no hint of this over the summer. The speed with which it happened has left me a little dazed. The earlier failure to call a Vote of No Confidence, the weird shenanigens over ludicrous Governments-of-National-Unity, the generalised infighting and chronic myopia ... just two weeks ago, it was not looking good. I was basically starting to quietly accept that we on the pro-Remain side were finally defeated, and worst of all, we'd been defeated mainly by our own allies.

Then the prorogue happened.

It's fair to say that it's already backfired. The obvious cynicism of the strategy, the naked contempt for all the institutions of British government, the sheer gall of it all - it was meant to energise the pro-Brexit crowd. Instead, it appears to have driven everyone on the soft-Brexit/pro-Remain aisle into a state of thermonuclear rage. And if there's one thing that can bring unlikely allies together, it's a common enemy. By pursuing his grandiose "oh look at me being so Brexity!" cock-strutting routine, Boris accidentally made himself into exactly that enemy.

The other factor was that the prorogue has imposed a sharp time-limit. Consequently, Continuity!Remain just doesn't have the luxury of descending into factional infighting. The deep irony is that putting us on a tight deadline has actually helped us. It's imposed a focus that just wasn't there even 10 days ago.

Meanwhile, as for the wider country, well, Boris's walk-about up north yesterday seems to have been a complete disaster. Random people were basically coming up to him to tell him that it had all gone wrong. Then there was that bizarre speech he gave in front of a captive audience of police recruits. It was just weird - proper delusion territory, and entirely-incoherent. I'd like to compare it to Trump, but at least Trump can manage a consistent theme. Johnson was just rambling. There was nothing there, except possibly a desperate plea for attention. A lot of the political journalists I follow are openly-speculating about whether BoJo was on drugs during the speech.

(And wouldn't that be the ultimate post-2016 banter-timeline twist? If the Prime Minister - the Prime Minister! - got busted for snorting crack?)

Meanwhile, BoJo's narc-meltdown has accidentally undone Theresa May's one significant achievement.

Contrary to what many people think, Theresa May did manage to thread one single needle. That was, she (mostly) managed to keep the parliamentary Conservative Party together. Granted a few MPs jumped ship to Change UK earlier in the year, but it stayed in single digits. There was no big split - and, significantly, the Change UK crowd got wet feet about no-confidencing her. The advantage of this was that Theresa May avoided having the Tories fall into what we might call the 1922 Trap. Here's what I mean by that: in the late 19th Century, the old Liberal Party was increasingly-split on the issue of Home Rule for Ireland. The tensions only got worse as time went on. Then Asquith went and delivered the First World War and precious little else of value. (He was notably-slimey on votes for women, and seemed uninterested in doing anything about the property qualification that 40% of men still faced. The cynic might note that Nick Clegg's behaviour is not entirely new.) Lloyd George tried to put the party back on its feet, but the damage was done. During the 1920s, the Liberals were openly-split. At elections, Liberals ran against each other in numerous constituencies. Because of the way first-past-the-post voting works, in practise this meant that Tories or Labour got elected instead. (A constituency has - say - 46% of the vote for any Liberal candidate, but two run. Each of them gets 23% of the vote. A.N. Other Party takes 24% and gets the MP's seat.)

Theresa May's political strategy - yes, she actually did have one - was predicated on avoiding having Tories run against other Tories at elections. Given their divisions, it was a narrow needle, but she mostly managed to thread it. Boris Johnson has gone and exploded that. You see, of the 21 MPs he's sacked from the party, several are saying they'll contest the next election as independents.

It's hard to know just how big a problem the 1922 Trap will be - but, their vote is already split with the Brexit Party. And even the most optimistic opinion polls have the Tories around 10pts down on where they were in 2017. They're already in minority in the House - how many votes can they afford to lose, really?

Meanwhile, there's a further problem. The Tories' drift to the political right may have taken them too far. They assume that their friends at the Times, the Sun, the Telegraph and the BBC can plaster over the cracks for them - but, can they? The media was full-throated for May in 2017, and she still lost her majority. The newspapers are hysterical and shriekier than ever - but, who reads them? I can't remember the last time I bought a physical copy of one of the main papers. I suspect that's true of many other people too. There are signs that the socially-liberal/financially-conservative chunk of voters are starting to decamp to the Lib Dems. Again, it's not clear how big this movement is - but, as I said earlier, how many votes can the Tories afford to lose? It's possible that they could be facing the nightmare scenario of a general election where the right-wing vote is split three ways (four, if you count UKIP's still-slightly-tembling corpse, though they're close to a rounding error now). If the next election was still certain to be in 2022, all this would be somewhat academic. Two and a half years is a long time, they could find a way to turn things around. All things being equal, I expect they would.

But then BoJo had his narc meltdown, didn't he?

The so-called government is now in absolute minority in the House. While their opponents can't currently agree on an alternative prime minister, nonetheless the anti-BoJo grouping now has a majority of 43. They can stop him doing anything. No legislation is going to go through this house. Finance bills are basically dead on arrival. I really can't see how he could pass any kind of Budget. And also, if he does anything at all to irritate the Opposition, they can no-confidence him any time they feel like it. Quite simply, he's on death row.

My guess is that they'll leave him be during the prorogue period. The logic here is obvious enough - let him twist in the wind. He's doing a great job of destroying himself, so let him get on with it. This way, when Parliament returns late in October, they can do the deed and it will look like a mercy-killing rather than a gang-land execution.

Hypothetically, there are four ways Boris could get off the hook:

1) He could resign. This would arguably save him some dignity, and just perhaps it might leave a little room to revive his future career. But, he won’t take this option. He’s a narc. They don’t voluntarily quit. (Plus, uh, much as I’d cackle if he was forced to quit, it just leaves his successor with the same set of problems that he failed to address.)

2) He could try to simply ignore the anti-hard Brexit law. The problem here is, it would give the opposition a prima facie grounds for an immediate Motion of No Confidence. He might get some love from the rightwing press, but the ultimate result would presumably be his removal and a new Prime Minister. It would be the most pointless constitutional crisis ever.

3) He could arrange to lose a motion of no confidence in his own government. This would arguably be constitutional, and might be a way to trigger an early election. But, it would a) look utterly-absurd, b) be an unprecedented thing to do and c) would also require him personally to face the House telling him to fuck off. I’m not sure that a narc is capable of that. Also, there’s the issue that, as we saw in 2017, there’s no guarantee that he could win a general election. I’m absolutely not sanguine about the risks of an early GE but a) that’s democracy and b) if he runs his campaign the way he’s running being PM then he could well end up roasted.

4) He could reverse the prorogue. On the one hand, un-proroguing Parliament would buy him some extra legislative time. On the other hand, his opponents have control of the House, and a wobble on the prorogue would make him look weak. There’s not much upside for him here, though it’s the most “conventional” of the four options.

Basically the TL;DR is that while he has some choices, none of them are good and all of them could cause him considerable personal pain. The opposition have set up a proper four-pronged Morton’s Fork for him. Which tine will he impale himself on?

As for Brexit? Well, one interesting detail is that the underlying political question seems to be open again. It hasn't quite gained mainstream traction yet, but apparently people are starting to ask whether Brexit is going to happen at all. The Labour Party's position has moved visibly toward hard-Remain, albeit grudgingly. The Lib Dems are having their time in the sun again (though, I suspect that glomming up Philip Lee may help them less than they seem to hope). I don't know that I think it's going to happen, but I can now imagine a situation where at the end of October, the anti-BoJo constellation No-Confidences him then pushes a quick revocation bill through Parliament. (The "party line" here would be, "We wanted a second referendum but this man's scheming hasn't left us enough time.") Again, not saying this is at all likely, but I think it is now a possible outcome.

And if nothing else, BoJo's supposed golden hour is turning out to be quite the nightmarish turkey - and isn't that just delicious?