#(radio silence for 50 years)

[cak31ssuperi04]

uve prolly gotten this before but y ship the blondie and oreoy,,,, curious

Is this about Izuchi and Sagara??

For what little we see of it I like their potential dynamic. They're so particularly annoyed by each other. I like that most of Izuchi's presence in the story shows him as a hyper-smart prodigy who thinks he's better than everyone, only for him to get lame and pathetic in Sagara's 3rd event because the competent bonafide genius is weak to the Weird Anime Kid. She's able to bring him to her level and cracking through his ego, which is maybe more fragile than he lets on. He's stubborn and likes challenges, and she wants her unhinged mad scientist antagonist-figure to clash with. He acts like he's above the petty rivalry but folds after one childish insult. If that's all it took, and if Nanashi had to get between them this time, I 100% think this happens regularly and has escalated before. They're silly.

They're both jaded teens who have an inflated sense of self-confidence. They do what they want without regard for what people think(though I will draw the distinction between how she's just kind of annoying and he's actually harmful) and end up detached from them without much of a drive to change that, but they take it in different directions, with Izuchi being pragmatic and serious and Sagara being a chuuni who's easygoing and kind of making it up as she goes along a lot of the time. He's arrogant and will wrong others to further his research but can be capable of and willing to help others(re. Meru's event). She ultimately means well and is a nice person but will casually threaten strangers and target people because she thinks they're weird(her dialogue regarding him as an organization member indicates that she doesn't seem to actually know about any of the legitimately shady shit he does and just messes with him because the genius schtick is bizarre. Again, Kind Of A Bully Maybe is really not on the level of Human Experimentation but then the game doesn't treat that very seriously either. And also Sagara's still capable of knocking him on his ass)

It definitely would take some sort of development for them to come to like each other or for romance to come into question, but I think it could be fun. They'd challenge eachother. She'd keep his ego in check and make him see the value in things that aren't strictly logical and he'd act as a voice of reason(to an extent…) and help strike some balance between reality/fantasy, but they still wouldn't really care about what people think. Menaces always.

[barleyo]

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

[blughxreader]

I've been watching natural disaster documentaries and I'm so down bad for the idea of Platonic Yandere! Batfam during a blizzard.

They obviously have enough supplies to maintain a small village, so no one is pressed when sudden snow picks up. Batman has special cold-resistant suits for all of them but when the windchill drops to the negatives, their patrols are an hour at a time.

When the blizzard finally hits, they escort stranded cars to safety for as long as possible before the white-out makes it impossible to work.

That first night, they're all huddled in the the smallest lounge, fireplace roaring and hot chocolate in hand. You're pulled to the very front of the pile, bundled in blankets and Tim's various school hoodies and up against the rolling heat of the flames.

Despite the temperature breaking record lows, you've never been more toasty. Chocolate on your tongue and cheeks hot from the fire, they only let you unbundle yourself when you complain about sweating.

However much the others bitch and moan, Jason and Bruce are the ones at your side. They're packed full of muscle and do a great job of trapping in heat, so the skinnier Bats have to settle for watching you. Jason and Bruce take great pleasure in draping a big arm around you, pinning you so close to their sides that you have to fold your arms to keep them from getting squeezed.

Bruce insists you sleep in his bed, since this is one of the few times he gets to fall asleep at the same time as you. Damian insists, on account of being the least efficient at maintaining heat (i.e. the smallest), he should join you two. Bruce relents with an amused smile. You fall asleep pulled almost fully across Bruce's chest with Damian wound tightly around you.

The whole situation would almost be reminiscent of a family enjoying the winter holidays, had it not been for the Bat’s palpable longing.

Normally, they're desperate to touch you, to hold onto some part of your person and bask in the closeness. But with their fingertips cold and a slight shake to their limbs—they're ravenous.

Their yearning mixes with the cold and spurs on their dark thoughts more than the heat ever has. They have to hold you or they'll die. They have to feel your warm breath fan their faces. They have to take your body heat and to give you theirs.

Physical intimacy seems so much more personal when they could die from the cold (never mind the fact that they're at a healthy temperature).

Fights break out faster as they get more clingy, and Bruce creates a rigid schedule. The Bats must follow the rotation by the second, no bartering time for favors, and no incapacitating others to extend your time.

The weak sun travels the sky and snow swallows houses whole. Almost two days in, the power cut and everyone was forced to move into the small living room. Using the back-up generators, they powered only a few important rooms in the house and set up space heaters in every corner. Blankets were nailed over windows and Damian and Tim had a mini bitch-session over the unusable internet connection.

Dick and Jason carried down mattresses, while Tim, Cass, and Steph found every blanket and pillow in the house. Damian and Bruce brought up laptops, monitors, and a radio for work. Alfred is forced into the recliner with an instant water heater and a teapot by his side. He hasn't complained once, but everyone knows the cold isn't kind to his joints.

Then there's you, sitting on a pile of blankets and pillows and wrapped in sweaters, throws, hats, and gloves. You almost threw a fit because you were warm enough, but Cass's darkened face silenced you immediately. She backed off when you settled into Steph's side, gloves and all.

The time passes slowly. On the third and worst day, the wind chill reached negative 50. The house rattled and creaked against the cold, and the Bats took turns nestled against you.

Dick flipped through his old high school year book and told you stories about the students, while Steph chimed in with made up-ones to add drama.

You and Damian played a game that involved finishing each other's drawings.

Tim pretended to be stuck on a video game level and let you help. Cass somehow procured a party horn that she honked to celebrate each victory.

Despite how hard Jason tried to avoid Bruce, they always finished their books at the same time and left to get more. They returned with arm-fulls of books and a frozen snack that they shared with you.

At the end of the week, when the sun finally began melting the snow and the were having an increasingly difficult time keeping Bruce from the cowl, they were all sick of each other.

It was slightly satisfying, considering you never caught a break from any of them and this was a taste of their own medicine. The Bats finally returned to duty after a spectacular meltdown from Dick after Bruce asserted his opinion one too many times.

You, however, remained locked in the living room nest for several more days because "it's still too cold for you to sleep alone" and "patrols will be very short until crime picks back up."

It was already safe to return to your room, but there was something so comforting about knowing precisely where you'd be at any given moment. And Bruce, settling into the couch after patrol to thaw his frozen limbs, melted at the sight of his kids all piled up together.

for more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

[poetlus]

ROARING ENGINES — streetracer!dabi x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Your boyfriend, a streetracing!Dabi, invites you to take a ride with him, which ends in an annoyingly teasing makeout session.

WARNINGS: unsafe driving, needy dabi (<3), slightly suggestive, reader is able to fit in dabi’s lap with ease— i apologize for the lack of plus-sized inclusivity; however, i couldn’t pass up this request!! i am a minor. do NOT interact if you are a stricly mdni account.

W/C: 1.7k

A/N: oh. my days. i love this so bad. I LOVE THIS SO BAD!!!! this was an amazing experience. one of the scenes in this fic was inspired by this scene in fast n furious. UGH. love. anywho, requested by @sepptember , proofread by @ikn9wyou!! follow auggie and alani. they have wonderful ideas.

Your boyfriend wasn’t one for showing off— he was reserved. Didn’t care for most people’s opinions. Unless he was on the road. When Dabi’s speeding down the highway, he wants everyone to hear. Especially you.

You were sitting on your apartment couch, the blue light from the TV shining on your face. You weren’t really even watching the show that was on, moreso doom scrolling through various apps— opening and closing them as though they were a fridge and you were hoping more food would magically appear.

Unfortunately, nothing caught your eye.

You let out a loud sigh, changing positions so you were laying down now. That’s when you heard it.

An engine revved from outside of your apartment complex, loud enough to make you wince at the sound. Then, you got a text.

Butterflies formed in your stomach— an often occurrence when it came to Dabi. Despite him literally being your boyfriend, he never failed to make your stomach do cartwheels any time you even thought about being around him. Your thumbs hovered over your phone, thinking about what to say.

Within seconds, the man hearted your message, as if he was waiting on the chat for you to respond. Your heart fluttered as you shot up from your spot on the couch, rushing to your bedroom to find something to wear.

After an eternity of searching and creating a mess of clothes on your floor, you had found the perfect outfit. You grabbed your phone and left your apartment, locking the door on your way out.

The elevator ride down to the first floor felt 50 years longer than normal— which was both good and bad; good because you got time to calm your stupid nerves, and bad because you didn’t want to wait to see your boyfriend any longer. As soon as you heard the “ding!”, indicating that the elevator had reached the bottom floor, you practically charged out of the building, looking for Dabi’s car.

There it was, the navy blue Camaro ZL1– bass bumping and engine roaring. That was definitely him. You hurried to the passenger door. Dabi rolled down his tinted windows. His cyan eyes seemingly glowed in the streetlight and you swore you were being seduced.

“Gonna get in?” His slightly raspy voice broke the silence.

You carefully opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Dabi looked at you, awaiting something. You gave him a slightly confused look, likely muddied by the darkness of the night.

“Well? Where’s my kiss, huh?” He asked you, a hint of impatience sewn into his tone. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He huffed, apparently not satisfied.

“What was that about?” You asked him.

“Nothin’.” The white haired man brushed it off and tossed you his phone. “You’re on aux.” He told you, you put on one of your favorite playlists— one that consisted of erotic songs. When you pressed the shuffle button, Poison by Brent Faiyaz began playing.

As the song began, Dabi shifted gears from neutral to drive and carefully pulled away from the cramped street.

His caution didn’t last long, though. As soon as he was out of the packed road, he sped up. His engine revved loudly as he did so and he moved his hand from the stick shift to the knob of the radio. He turned the knob to the right, making the music louder. After adjusting it to his liking, he rested his free hand on your thigh. His other was controlling the wheel, though his attention wasn’t fully on it. He was occupied with you. He watched as you hung your head slightly out of the open window, wind blowing your hair out of your face and giving him a perfect view of your features.

How can a singular human being be so flawless?

The man was enamored by you. In his eyes, you were a spectacle. A trophy that he, somehow, had won. And goddamn, was he proud of his trophy.

You looked to see him staring right back at you, making butterflies erupt yet again. In order to hide your fluster, you snapped your fingers at him.

“Eyes back on the road, Dabi.” He hummed in response and looked forward. You faced towards the window again, feeling the cool air on your cheeks. Dabi sped up as the song ended and the next one played. Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji.

As the engine of his car became white noise, you asked Dabi where you were going.

“Dunno,” He said nonchalantly. “Just driving.” You couldn’t help but smile at Dabi’s voice. You’d play it on repeat if you could.

You began singing along to the radio, making Dabi chuckle. He joined in quietly, unintentionally harmonizing with you.

“Can’t you see? I don’t want to slow dance,” The two of you sang. “In the dark.”

The song continued and you two made conversation, talking about your days and how the two of you missed each other.

“Sorry ‘m so busy, babe.” He apologized. “A lot’s going on with the League right now.” You accepted his apology, because truthfully, that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here, with you, in this moment.

The conversation carried on for another 20 minutes, and by now, you were out of the city. Flat, dark farmland stretched out as far as the eye could see. You looked up at the sky from your window— without the light pollution, everything was darker, causing the stars to shine brighter. You stared in awe for a moment at the gorgeous things, mesmerized.

Dabi, finally out of city limits, sped up to 160. You could feel your stomach drop as he sped up. You rolled your window up and said, “Dabi, slow down.” The man smirked.

“Why, ya scared?” He sped up to 180 in a matter of seconds.

“Yes, I am!” You retorted. He pouted mockingly.

“Awh, poor thing.” 185. You smack his arm lightly, making him laugh once more. He finally slowed down. Then, he patted his lap, confusing you slightly. “Well? C’mon.”

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your eyes at him. “While you’re driving?”

“What??” He asks, trying to sound innocent. “I mean it. C’mere.” His eyes were still fixated on the road.

Slightly awkwardly, you crawled over the center console and into his lap— your back was against the door and your head facing his. You smelled his cologne, a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

Playfully, you dug your nose into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe in all of his scent. He smiled. “You’re ticklin’ me, Y/N.”

“I can’t help it,” you said with your head still buried. “You smell so good!” Another laugh was shared and it was quiet for the moment, the two of you relishing in one another’s peace. That’s when you got your grand idea.

You were going to tease him.

You planted a light kiss on his collarbone, and then another on his neck, and then another on his jaw. You continued this pattern for a minute or two, giving all of your attention to his neck and jaw. Once you seemed to be done, he looked down owards you, expecting you to kiss his lips, but you didn't. Instead, you kissed his cheek and went back to breathing in his scent.

“Y/N.” He said quietly.

“Hm?”

“My lips.” It was as if he thought you forgot, as if he was reminding you; you didn’t forget, though. You smiled semi-mischievously, realizing he hadn’t picked up on your teasing.

You looked up at him again and acted as though you were going to kiss him. To catch him off guard, you paused right before you did so and pecked the corner of his mouth. His face morphed from content to annoyance.

“What?” You tried to sound pure and innocent, as if you didn’t know what you were doing.

“You know what. Kiss my lips.” You couldn’t hide your smirk as he spoke. He almost sounded needy, like he had to have you kiss his lips. You pretended to think for a second. Then, you kissed the corner of his mouth again. He leaned into you this time, trying to make you kiss his lips, but to no avail. You dodged his efforts and continued to pepper smooches everywhere but his mouth.

Dabi groaned, eyeing you with an even more annoyed look than before.

“I don’t want to beg, Y/N, kiss my lips.” He almost demanded. “Not my neck, not my cheek, my lips.” You let out a laugh.

“But it’s so fun when you beg!”

“It’s not fun for me..” He grumbled. You almost felt bad, like you were actually doing something wrong by not kissing him on the mouth— not that that would stop you. When you wanted to do something, you were determined. And that something just so happened to be riling up your boyfriend.

So, you continued kissing him, getting ever so close to his mouth just to pull away at the last second. You could tell Dabi was getting frustrated, and that just made the experience all the more enjoyable. After a few more failed attempts of trying to make out with you, Dabi sighed loudly and sped up his vehicle once again.

“You are such a brat.” He hissed. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why? Is it working?”

“No— ‘ts not working. Cut it out.” Dabi denied.

“Seems like it is..” You mumbled to yourself.

“Only thing it’s doing is pissing me off.” You smiled smugly and cupped his face in your hand.

“Awh, I’m sorry baby.” You mocked his tone from earlier. Finally, you slowly kissed his lips, this time not pulling away.

Dabi leaned into you, perhaps more needily than he intended. He was starving for your touch. Your soft lips on his. His tongue easily slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours.

This man was yearning for you. You knew he wanted you, but damn, you didn’t know he wanted you this badly.

Your hands ran through Dabi’s surprisingly soft hair, massaging his scalp slightly. He was upset he couldn’t give you all of his undivided attention, what with also having to focus on the road. So, he did what any horny guy would do. He pulled over to the side of the road and effortlessly shifted your hips so now you were straddling him.

“Think it’s time to get you back for what you did, love.” He sighed almost maliciously. You were in for a ride, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

🏷️’s : @rueclfer , @seneon !

[benjimatorarts]

I love your art! Your au is really interesting to me, can you perhaps tell me more about it? :)

Thank you! There are a lot of things I want to say but the 50s AU but some things I think are better explained with illustrations coming your way. I can share a few notes.

Alastor's and Vaughn's (Vox) friendship lasted for years before they broke up. I'm thinking 1954-early 1960s. They had a couple of years of radio silence between the two of them before they talked to each other again.

Alastor radio show is hosted by a local New Orleans station but that will both fortunately and unfortunately change.

Alastor’s killing sprees go up and down activity over the years. The 20-30s were his most active. Lots of reason why they’ve slowed down. (One of the reasons, that he won’t admit, is because of his body pains and stiffness related to aging, serving both wars, and killing people for years are not easy on the body.)

Vaughn has real estate in both CA, Hollywood, and NY, New York City. Oh right, and now in LA, New Orleans.

Vaughn is in a weird place where he’s moving towards television than film as there’s been a decline in the box offices post WW2.

Marian (still working on her full name), wears a lot of different hats in the film production scene in Hollywood. She has experiences with editing, production management, and screenwriting. She’d married Vaughn early 1940s, definitely before WW2 ended so Vaughn could get out of getting drafted to the war. She’s more focus in film than television but she’ll step in as production manager in Vaughn’s projects if he needs the extra help.

(And yes, she does know about Vaughn’s attraction to men and definitely knows about his feelings towards Alastor. Maybe more aware than he does.)

Morningstar family are consider royalty in the entertainment history with a heavy background law and business from Lucifer’s (his name might change for this AU) side of the family. But Lilith is the true lawyer of Charlie’s immediate family. And handles most of the businesses under the Morningstar’s name. Consider them kinda like the Kardashians in this AU.

Thanks for @random-emerald-thoughts for giving a lot of inspiration and ideas for this AU! I will explore these notes more with visuals and they may change! So nothing is concrete. Thank you again for the asks!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 54 (12.1)

part 1 | part 53 | ao3

cw: angst

Chapter 12

Steve drives to Chicago.

He wakes up to an empty bed and a sticky note by the kitchen phone, words scribbled over so the only legible thing left is the word sorry underlined in jagged black, and his breath sticks in his chest and he can't be here anymore. Epiphany ringing like a gong, sending ripples through his marrow, because the walls are closing in and Eddie decorated those walls — splattered himself over every inch of this place, and now he's just the newest haunt in a line of ghosts that Steve can't shake. He thought he’d gotten rid of them, but now he hears them louder than ever. In the hiss of the faucet, in the buzz of the fridge; they’re moaning in his bad ear and rattling his bones, and he can't be here alone with them he can't be here he can't—

So he drives.

Gets in his car with nothing but a spare jacket and a crumpled pack of cigs. If ever there was a time to pick the habit up in earnest. Eddie’s van is gone, and Steve’s heart is bruised; it's bleeding out inside him, pumping fresh hurt with every beat, so he lights a cigarette with shaking hands and heads north. Takes the back roads to the on-ramp of I-65, drives for hours; drives for years, speeding down empty stretches of highway with nothing but roadkill for company.

At some point he rolls the windows down until the icy wind makes his cheeks burn, but he can't really feel them. Can't feel his face, or his fingers, or his heart.

All the world is snow and asphalt, and Steve Harrington is alone.

He tries to drown it out with music. The radio mocks him with swooning quartets love songs — 'put your head on my shoulder' and 'life could be a dream' — and all the tapes he can reach belong to Eddie, so he pulls over on the narrow shoulder of an overpass bridge and screams and screams and screams while he chucks the cassettes over the edge.

Fuck Eddie.

Fuck him.

"FUCK YOU!!" he shouts to the foggy nothingness.

The words dig in sharp; pocket knife twisting in the space below his kidneys.

The fog doesn't respond.

Back in the car, his thoughts turn to his mom. Because he's driving to her, he knows — knew it in his splintering bones and haunted blood the moment he left town. He's driving back to his first ghost, as if confronting the original will somehow exorcise the rest.

Miles pass in silence, and Steve paints over the canvas of what-ifs again and again, oily streaks in the underpainting as he tries to set the scenes just right: quiet, tearful confrontations in his aunt's formal living room, graceless screaming matches out on the front lawn. In one version he never makes it past the guard at the front gate, and in another he just eggs the stupid lion statues leading up to the house while his mom silently weeps from the top of the stairs.

He doesn't know if his mom would laugh at that.

He doesn't know her much at all.

And that fucking hurts; that sits like acid in his lungs, because his mom was his first friend. When he was little — before the housekeepers and nannies, before his mom started tailing his dad on business trips like a trained dog on a leash — they spent so much time together. Trips to the playground, to the library, to the pool. He'd perch himself on her vanity when she got ready in the mornings, use her hairbrush as a microphone to sing along to 50s doo-wop, and she'd giggle and call him her little superstar, so he'd come up with stupid dance moves just to make her smile more.

He misses that. The script, the routine. How he'd spin around in his socks on the slippery bathroom tile and look up at her with her big hair full of rollers and her big eyes full of stars, and he'd say, "Hey! How come your eyes are all twinkly?"

And she'd grin and pinch his cheek and give the same answer every time: "Because you're the light of my life."

"I wish I knew what you'd say now," he whispers to the empty car.

For a moment he envisions that she's sitting there with him, that she's filling the blank space where the boy who broke his heart should be, but he can't remember her cadence well enough to mimic it; can't put words in her mouth when he no longer knows her lines, and with something a bit like horror and a lot like despair it occurs to him that he can't remember what she looks like. There's an apparition in his blind spot, but it's formless and unstable. The shade of its hair keeps changing; the texture, the length.

When he tries to make it speak, it shrugs and dissipates.

—

part 55

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[dvlboy]

imagine rage quitting genshin after you lose too many 50/50’s.

at first the characters don’t really care too much, some are a bit concerned but you’ve always come back.

but then a few days go by, and radio silence. you haven’t returned. they think that maybe you’ve just been busy. the ones that are initially concerned have now begun to panic.

but then it turns to weeks. they don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve come back to see them. did they no longer mean anything to you? your favourites, and the ones that you’ve grown closest to still hold onto the hope that you’ll return. you’ve been with them, nurtured and loved them for years, why leave now? the warmth they felt from you putting them on your team was something they dearly craved. the character that refused to come down has now been shunned, a demonstration of punishment for you.

it’s only when they realize you’ve been gone for months and have no signs of returning that they begin to panic, maybe starting to go feral. albedo is the only one that can possibly have the prowess to understand what universe they’re in. sometimes they can feel your presence, but never your light.

that’s when they found out that you’ve replaced them, for different people, in a different game.

you’ve abandoned them.

you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. you’ve abandoned them. and they just can’t have that happen.. they’ll make you go back to them, then everything will be okay right?

[robinhobiii]

only you | mafia! y. jh

summery : every one wants him. But he only wants one person.

He sighed for the millionth time today. He just wanted to leave. Too many people were trying to talk to him and it’s draining him. His eyes were slightly droopy but unbeknownst to him, it made him look more sultry like. Making more and more people attracted to him. His mysterious and slightly cold aura captures anyone coming his way.

“Jeonghan! There you are!” Another one of the socialites said as she waltz over to him. His face remained indifferent as she pushed up against him slightly.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” She whispered seductively.

God, he was really going to kill Seungcheol.

“Can’t, have work tomorrow.” He said courtly, trying to move away.

“Come on, hannie. It’ll only be for a little bit.” She pouted. He cringed at the name that disgraced her lips.

He pushed her slightly for her to land back on the other chairs and made his way out.

There’s only one woman that could call him hannie.

Y/n.

As he drove home, he remembers the memories with her. How brilliant her smile was and how shy she used to get at his flirty remarks. Her soft hands that would caress his face after a long day and how she would nurse him back to health after working for hours on end.

Oh, how much he misses her and how he longs for her warmth again.

Everything went well until she found out his real occupation. She gave him an ultimatum of leaving the mafia family or her. He obviously couldn’t choose. These were the things that made him happy. How could he only pick one? But in the end, she left. There was radio silence from her end.

Nothing.

She even moved work places and her apartment. If Jeonghan wasn’t in the mafia with a lot of connections, he would’ve never found her.

Her face remains engraved in his head. He wants to be in her arms again and hear her sweet nothings after a long day. It’s been harder these days to forget everything. It’s like the universe was taunting him with everything that reminds him of their time together.

. . .

To be fair, he didn’t want to be in the mafia family. He just wanted to make sure him and his sister didn’t die. His parents borrowed money from a different mafia family and they couldn’t pay it back. So his family was always on the run and wanted to essentially survive.

One day when Jeonghan was picking up his sister from school, his parents were brutally murdered. In that short 15 minutes of him picking up his sister, they died and couldn’t even plea to spare them. He received a phone call from the neighbor saying they heard loud screaming from his house. Sensing it could be bad, he dropped his sister at her friends house for the time being. He made his was home and saw the devastating sight. On the wall, written his parent’s blood, states that they need to get the remaining 50 million won by next Friday. He shuddered as he sat down on the couch. Although he was sad to see his parents like this, he couldn’t even shed a tear. At the ripe age of 18, he was now the sole guardian of his sister.

He needed to get out and get out fast. Where was he going to find that much money in a short amount of time? So, he knew what he had to do. And so he walked to the house at the very end of the street and knocked in strategic way to alert them. The door swung open and revealed a tall man with glasses.

“Wonwoo…”

“I’ve heard the gunshots.”

Jeonghan said nothing. “I’ll join.”

“What?” Wonwoo said, taken aback. “B-but, I thought you-“

“I have no choice. Me and my sister can’t keep running. We need him to protect us. He can avenge me and sister.”

He was the big boss, Choi Seunghyun, formally known as T.O.P. He was running the harshest and ever growing mafia family, Big Bang. The name Big Bang comes from the people that go out with a bang when nothing is paid back to them.

“Hyung, think it through. You’ll never be able to leave. I’ve been there for two years already and I made the biggest mistake.”

“I have to. For me and my sister.”

And so, Yoon Jeonghan was secretly sworn into the family and to build trust and a bond, TOP ordered his men to kill that mafia family that harassed Jeonghan and his family. Even he says it’s to build trust, it’s just something to emotionally blackmail Jeonghan to not leave.

By the time he was 20, a riot within the family was started. An internal war was far worse that the ones with someone else. “The family is not going to last any longer. We’re all going to die.” Joshua said.

“We need to leave and leave now. So many people already left.” Jihoon said.

“No.” Seungcheol said.

Everyone looked at him.

“We’ll start our own clan and be better than them. Most of us have no one waiting for us at home. For some of us, this is the only family we have.”

“But hyung-“

“There’s no buts. Trust me. I’ve been by Seunghyun’s side for the last 5 years, I know what to do. Just trust me.

And they did trust him. They became Seventeen, one of the most wanted group across world. With each members unique ability, the group prospered and because much bigger than imagined.

. . .

Because of the his charming looking and his ability to finesse anything in a conversation, Seungcheol made him one of their main undercover says to find informations.

That is how he met the beautiful woman that is Y/n. She worked as a journalist and would often spend her time at the cafe, across the street from her work place.

By fate, they met. They were there at the same place and at the same time. She caught his eye the moment his eyes landed on her. How focused she was on the paper she was writing and how she didn’t even look up. Everyone was flocking to get a glimpse of him, while her eyes remained on her laptop.

He smirked. How interesting.

He sat right in front of her and said, “Is this seat taken?”

Again she didn’t look up and mumbled out a no.

As he sipped his coffee, he looked at her. Everything about her was perfect to him. Is this what love at first sight was?

“You know staring is rude, right?” She finally said.

He was surprised for a second before that infamous smirk made its way to his face.

“I can’t help that a beautiful lady is sitting right in front of me.”

She blushed slightly.

“You’re weird.” She laughed.

God, he could hear that for the rest of his. Her laugh rang in his ears in the most beautiful way possible.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“I need to leave.” She said with a smile as she picked up her stuff.

“You won’t tell me how I’m weird?”

“Maybe next time.”

Jeonghan smile widen as he hear that.

Next time. He couldn’t wait for it.

. . .

Soon enough, they were chatting at the cafe almost everyday. Jealous eyes scanned them as they were lost in their own world. She actually talked to him! He was starstruck by her and day by day he was falling deeper. Her small little habits never left out in Jeonghan’s mind.

After three months of talking, he knew he needed to make this official. She needed to be his. He took her to country side and showed her around the beautiful mountain village. She didn’t know this, but this was where Jeonghan grew up. But she loved every second of it. He finally took her to one of the nicer restaurant and asked her.

“Y/n. . I know that we’ve known each other for a short three months, but I feel like, I’ve known you my whole life. I just can’t imagine my life without you in my future. So, will you be my girlfriend?”

She smiled and leaped into his arms. “Of course! Don’t even have to ask.”

Soon enough, three years passed and Jeonghan was the happiest he has ever been. He never told her in those three years that he was in the mafia. He wanted to maintain her sweet innocence and not scare her away.

But that came to an end, when she was cleaning their shared home. She went to throw away the trash when she saw some files with Jeonghan’s name one them. So, she went to his office to put them on his desk, but she was shocked to his a gun and knives on his desk. She doesn’t know how long she was there, but she there for a while for Jeonghan to find her there. He couldn’t even come up with an explantation as to why there was a gun on his desk. He could’ve made an excuse for the knives but he knew he has to come clean about it to her.

“Hannie, what’s this?”

“Baby, let’s talk about this tomorrow”

“No! We’re talking about this right now. What is this?!”

“Angel. . . come with me.”

He took her to the other side of the room and sat her down on the couch. He sighed. “I’m . . . In the mafia. . and I know you’re confused but believe me when I say that I was going to tell you eventually when the time was right.” He was lying. He would’ve never ever told her. “I. . .wha-what?” She said.

He couldn’t read her face and was getting anxious. “Talk to me baby.”

“I. . . I’m heading to bed.”

She slept in the guest bed that night. Jeonghan couldn’t sleep as the bed felt too cold without her. Little did he know that this would be the last time she was ever be in the same house as him. The next morning rolled around and she was silent. But he had work to attend to. “I’m leaving, baby.” He leaned down to kiss her but she moved her head. He moved back in shock.

Later that night, when he came home, he noticed that she was thinking. He was nervous for what she’ll eventually say.

“Jeonghan.”

That sent shivered down his spine. In those three years, she only called him Jeonghan a handful amount of time. And each time he disliked it. “Yes.”

“I’m going to give you a choice. And you need to pick one.” She sighed. “Either you leave the mafia or . . leave me.”

There was silence after she said that.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Angel, you have to understand I can’t just pick o-“

“You have to! I can’t live with a man that kills for a living.”

“Listen to me-“

“JEONGHAN! JUST PICK ONE!”

It was silent again. Never does she ever raise her voice at anyone but she couldn’t help herself.

“Baby. . .” He started.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at her apologetically before he answered. It was Seungcheol.

“I need you to come to the office now!”

“Why? What’s wrong?!”

“Just come, it’s too long to explain but unit three is injured. We can’t get a hold of Soonyoung. That last response we got was from Chan at 10:56 pm. Come now.”

He rushed up but paused and look at her again.

“We’ll finish this when I get back.”

The door shut close and she got her answer. She scoffed slightly, “when I get back.”

She packed her things and called friends for help. They came and loaded somethings in their car and she packed some in her car well. She turned off her phone and made her way to her friends house.

By the time he came home, it was 6:42 am. She was no where to be seen. He called her phone and it went straight to voicemail. He was hysterical as he slipped to his knees. Yesterday night would mark the last day he sees her.

. . .

That was almost six months ago. It haunts him everyday. Oh how he regrets going out, but the other part would regret breaking the brotherhood that they created. Day by day, he yearns for her. His other members noticed him and tried to comfort him but he didn’t want comfort, he wanted . . no he needed her. Everyday passed by in a blur and he wanted that clarity again. When he met her, it felt as the all the problems in his world disappeared. He didn’t know how he lived without her before.

“Meeting in 5.” Jihoon reminded everyone in the common room. Slowly Jeonghan made his way to the conference room.

“The next month will be very busy, so pay attention, especially you Jeonghan.” Seungcheol started. Jeonghan just started tune everything out. He wanted to only live in his memories. Wanting to live in his make believe so that the harsh reality won’t make him cry more. Joshua got a glimpse of him slipping, so he elbowed him and that got Jeonghan out his daydream. He silently sighed.

“And Jeonghan will be there ahead of time to listen to everything.”

“Ugh, again.” He whined out, annoyed.

“Everyone sessionally wants a piece of you, so you’ll be going in.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes at that. Not everyone wanted him.

. . .

His hooded eyes scanned the room to look make sure the target left so he could finally leave. Once he was sure, he made his way out. He stopped at a bar on his way home. Everyone’s eyes were on him. One drink turned into two drinks turned into three. Before he knew it, he was extremely drunk. He then heard a familiar laugh. He whipped his head to look for that comforting sound.

There she sat with all her beauty. Her beautiful lips up in a smile as she drank with her co-workers.

God, he wanted to leave before he did something stupid. As he made his way out, Y/n let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It hurt so bad seeing him get so drunk and she didn’t even help him. Although she tried to forget him, and hate him, she couldn’t. She did too much with him to forget that man. His love still linger through her.

She missed him so much. She wanted to run back into his arms, but she knew that if she did, she would invite the bad into her life. His karma will come to collect his debt and she doesn’t want to be in the middle of it.

“Go” Her supervisor said.

Y/n looked up at her and shook her head. “I can’t.” She said as a few tears escaped. “You clearly still love him and want him. You should try to work it out.” They knew she broke up him but not for him being in the mafia. No. She told them that it just didn’t work out anymore. They were obviously shocked and didn’t believe her but didn’t pry as she was in a bad state. “I think I’m going to head home.” Y/n said as she paid for her share.

. . .

He woke up with a pounding headache and almost had no memory from last night. He did remember seeing her. He could never forget her. Jeonghan was having regrets. Maybe he should’ve talk to her? No. That could’ve gotten ugly.

He went on with day as normal but he was thinking about her more than usual. He wanted to talk to her again. He knew that it’ll never happen and it’s only a distant memory. He made it to work and Seungcheol made his way to his office. “Jeonghan, tonight is the night, be ready.” He said.

That night came faster than expected. And all 13 boys made their way to the club. There was a set plan and by tonight there should be one less person on this earth. He made his way to bar and ordered a whiskey. And made his way to one of the sofas. Many girls tried their ways with him with no success. He was only there as an extra pair of eyes, so seducing these women for information was not needed. As some girl was kissing his jaw, he saw her. She was wearing a black dress that was beautifully complementing her body. Her shy eyes scanned through crowds of people, looking for someone. The more he looked at her, the more he wanted to next to her.

He pushed the girl softly and made his way to Y/n. She was facing away from him and he was a few feet from her. His hands naturally found their way to her waist. She was slightly startled and tried to push the hands away before he said, “It’s me, angel.” She was frozen and said nothing. He took this as a sign to continue. One of his hand came up and brushed her hair out of the way to get access to her neck. He placed gentle kisses along there and she let him. Soon her hands were placed on top of his.

“Let’s go somewhere else.” He whispered in her ears as he placed some kisses there as well. And they left the club and Jeonghan was driving them to his apartment. The car ride was silent but he didn’t mind. Just being in her presence was enough for him.

. . .

He opened the door for her and let her in. He then got a glass of water for her and him to drink. Once they were done, they only looked at each other. They both longed for this moment again. “Maybe this was a mistake. I should leave. ” She softly said.

“N-no! S-stay.”

He sighed and said, “Angel, I owe you an explanation. That night I left, I had an emergency. The boys were in trouble and I needed to ensure their safety. I know in that moment you must’ve felt unimportant. I should’ve sat you down and talked throughly that morning. I should’ve set it straight when I saw you that morning. And to answer your question. . . I can’t leave them. It’s a bond we built on hardship and trust. We are each other’s family. We can’t ever be apart. But I also didn’t want to leave you. When I came back, you were gone. I wanted to come to a compromise because you are the light in my life. I only want you to look at me. I just want you.”

She looked at him and didn’t know what to think. “I don’t want to live my life in fear that I’ll be killed. I want to live normally.” She said.

“You can. No one in the mafia world knows I’m even affiliated with seventeen. We can work it out.” He said as he held her hands.

“I . . I want it to work too but I’m too scared.”

“We can take it slow and figure everything out, like old time.”

She smiled at that. “Yeah, like old times.”

“Let’s head to bed and plan out everything tomorrow, hmm? How does that sound?” He said as he brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Sound perfect.”

. . .

He gave her some of his clothes for pajamas and boy did he miss that sight. She softly smiled at him and made her way to bed. When she was comfortable, Jeonghan joined after turning off all the lights. He hugged her and placed a kiss on her head.

“We’ll be okay.” He whispered.

[shuttershocky]

There was a ten year period between 2004-2014 where we basically got no Godzilla movies at all. Toho celebrated his 50 year anniversary with a massive beatdown of a whole squad of foes in Final Wars and then radio silence until the Hollywood movie that started the Monsterverse.

I'm actually really glad that the 2014 movie was so good it made Toho make Godzilla movies again, which let Legendary pivot direction entirely so now we have both Godzilla as a somber metaphor of WMDs and Godzilla as Showa era style children's tokusatsu hero (which is also just as big a part of the character's legacy no matter what critics and snobby fans that only want the good movies say)

[coochiequeens]

A 22 year old woman who was about to graduate with a degree in engineering is now dead because her ex couldn't accept that the relationship was over.

Gino Cecchettin, hugging his daughter Elena, attends a torchlit procession in Vigonovo, near Venice, northern Italy, Sunday, Nov. 19, 2023, after the police found the body of his other daughter Giulia, reportedly with multiple stab wounds and wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Venice. Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, 21, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen arguing with Giulia Cecchettin. (Lucrezia Granzetti/LaPresse via AP)

The Associated Press

ROME -- Italy has erupted in outrage over the death of a young woman, allegedly at the hands of her possessive ex-boyfriend, with the Italian premier vowing to crack down further on gender-based violence that has claimed the lives of more than 50 women so far this year.

Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen fighting with 22-year-old Giulia Cecchettin, hitting her in a physical attack that was captured by roadside video cameras.

Cecchettin's body, reportedly with multiple stab wounds, was found wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Lake Barcis, in the province of Pordenone north of Venice.

Italian newspapers had been consumed with the search for them both, given multiple reports from friends and family that Turetta had refused to accept Cecchettin's decision to end the relationship. Cecchettin’s sister, Elena, said she had been concerned about Turetta’s possessiveness of her sister but never imagined he could hurt her.

Police in the eastern German city of Halle said Sunday that they had detained a 21-year-old Italian man who was wanted by police in Italy after his car broke down on the A9 highway in the south of the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt.

Italian news reports said police road cameras had traced Turetta’s black Fiat Punto as he drove on mountain roads through northern Italy, into Austria and then Germany.

Italian state-run radio network RAI said Turetta had agreed to be extradited, and Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani said he was expected back in Italy within days. Venice's chief prosecutor, Bruno Cherchi, suggested Monday it might take longer and urged patience so the investigation can complete its course without external pressure.

The fate of Cecchettin, who had been due to graduate university Thursday with a degree in engineering, had dominated news reports for a week and led to an outpouring of anger when her body was finally found. Even Turetta's parents attended a candlelit vigil for her, and RAI led its main evening news program Sunday with a backdrop made up of portraits of all the women killed in Italy this year.

Premier Giorgia Melon i expressed outrage at Italy’s long history of violence against women by their partners or ex-partners, saying it has appeared to be getting worse recently. She cited data from the Interior Ministry saying of the 102 women killed in Italy this year up to Nov. 12, 53 died at the hands of their partners or former partners.

“Every single woman killed because she is ‘guilty’ of being free is an aberration that cannot be tolerated and that drives me to continue on the path taken to stop this barbarity,” she said in a statement on social media.

A government-backed bill that has already passed the lower Chamber of Deputies and is coming to the Senate later this month would boost preventative measures to protect victims of gender-based violence.

In addition, the Interior Ministry urged all schools to hold a minute of silence on Tuesday in honor of Cecchettin “and all abused women and victims of violence.” An organization of Italian university rectors, meanwhile, vowed to launch initiatives to make students more aware of gender-based violence.

The aim, the group said, was to “promote respect of the person and halt violence against women” through education that fosters a culture of respect and responsibility.

[sirhyst]

Fukuzawa x child!reader x child!ranpo

Note: In case you were wondering why he’s so rigid around you and Ranpo, this is a younger Fukuzawa. If you read the Untold Origins light novel he literally thinks of 50 ways to get rid of Ranpo.

————————————————————————-

Fukuzawa didn’t know at what point he began to regret every decision that led him to this point in his life. Was it back at the crime scene, when you and Ranpo kicked down the door of the Presidents office? Was it when he watched you two obliterate your red bean porridge?

Whenever it was, all he wanted was to reclaim the calming silence that broke ties with him as soon as he offered to look after you two.

The trio had reached Fukuzawa’s house. It was an old home—it wasn’t very big, but big enough for a man and the little gremlins that followed him. He managed to keep them distracted with unsolved mysteries until night fell over Yokohama, by suggestion of his guide to raising 5 year olds

“You can sleep in this room tonight and I’ll put you in another room,” Fukuzawa said in his usual collected way.

You and Ranpo nodded, for the first time that day, holding back any snarky remarks. Fukuzawa helped you both set up your futons, before retiring to his own room.

As he was about to start changing, he heard little feet running towards his door. He turned around to find you standing there with a cold stare.

“I need a something to listen to,” you said blankly, as if he should have known this despite only meeting you today. You were about to express more grievances, when Ranpo ran up behind you.

“I can’t sleep in the dark,” he whined. Neither of you were blood related, but you managed to hold the exact same expression. Fukuzawa sighed , placing his hand in his head.

Without saying anything he led you both back to your bedrooms, grabbing a nightlight for Ranpo and a small radio for you on the way. He returned to his room, and attempted to begin changing again.

Before he undid the first button, little feet were once again heard stomping towards his door.

“Can you sit with me?” You said quietly. Before Fukuzawa could send you back to your room, Ranpo once again appeared behind you as if summoned.

Feeling the discomfort of these two gremlins staring into his soul catching up to him, he complied.

“You’re a patient old guy, y’know?” You said while staring at the ceiling. Ranpo chimes in, but Fukuzawa was too overcome by tiredness to respond in fear that it would only be met with a snarky remark from the other. He sat there with them for what felt like an hour until silence filled the room.

Being to caught up in the subtle excitement that the two had calmed down, he foolishly believed that he would finally be able to get some rest.

Fukuzawa quietly closed the door, not bothering to take Ranpo back to his own room. He quickly changed into his night clothes and peaked out of his room to make sure the duo had not followed him back.

He slipped into his futon, recounting the days events. He’d been through a lot, meeting new people, vowing to himself that he would never grow closer to them beyond knowing their name. But here he was, his daily routine suddenly taking a drastic turn, having two brats children to look after.

His stream of thoughts was suddenly interrupted when he felt someone place their head on his chest.

His eyes flew open. He looked to his side to find that you had somehow snuck into his room with your blanket. You cling onto his shirt.

“There’s something in my room, I know it!” You whimpered. He was going to point out that the extra scary presence was Ranpo but decided against it. Before he could move, Ranpo appeared at the door.

Perhaps he could hear his thoughts, Fukuzawa thought to himself. Without saying a word, Ranpo crawled onto Fukuzawa’s right side. The man sighed to himself, realising there was no escaping his current predicament. If it was a predicament.

I’m too soft*, he thought to himself. He could’ve kicked them both to the curb, but whether or not he’d be able to sleep at night was the problem.

It was quiet before you raised your head to look him in the eyes. Fukuzawa knew what was coming and before you had the chance to even sign, he got up and retrieved the radio and nightlight he had placed in yours and Ranpos room.

As soon as he laid back down, you and Ranpo cuddled up to him closer than he would’ve liked, but of course accepted it.

“Fukuzawa-san,” you said in a hushed voice, notably the quietest voice you’ve used all day.

“Hm?” He responded. He waited for you to speak up again, but was met with the joint small snores from the children on either side of him.

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

The other Overlords might have found a solution.

Vox wants to try it right away, but he's not the only guest in this universe.

“We need your Alastor,” Carmilla reminds him sternly.

Alastor still isn't back, and Vox has hit a snag in his work. Contrary to what he told the deer demon, Vox does need his expertise with radio waves and magic to finish it.

Vox sighs. He's been sifting through his memory banks all the way back to the 50s when he arrived in Hell. He can't stop thinking about what Alastor said to him the other day during his episode of anger. He's watched so many old memories of just him and Alastor. It hurts more than he expected it to. He's really tired. “Yeah, okay. Just give me a second.”

He closes his eyes and casts out radio waves. It's been a while since he's tried to find Alastor using just his—their frequency.

To the side, he senses how his other self and the Other Alastor watch him curiously. They can feel what he's doing.

He ignores it. His Alastor is more important.

He shuffles rapidly through the signals in the air and discards the ones that aren't Alastor's.

No.

Nope.

Not that one.

No.

Absolutely not.

There.

…

He's still mad.

Vox sighs again and opens his eyes. “Uh. I might be a while. He's still mad at me. I'll try to calm him down.”

He takes a step towards the corner and melts into the shadows the way Alastor taught him so many years ago, ignoring the exclamations of surprise and shock behind him as the darkness wraps around him like an old friend, much like how it did for Alastor.

In a way it is. It's one thing he and Alastor share, with Alastor introducing him to it once Vox recovered from his fall back then.

Vox feels conflicted knowing that Alastor still keeps the shadows open for him to use. That's a major amount of trust that he really shouldn't give Vox. But at the same time it makes him feel warm inside.

The shadows take him to the edge of the city, where he sees Alastor sitting on some rubble, facing away from him.

Vox approaches him silently and sits next to him.

Neither of them say anything.

In a funny way, silence is easier than talking for the two performers.

There's no tension in the air, just grief sadness.

"My biggest mistake is falling in love with you," Alastor says suddenly, breaking the silence. "I had gone on for so long without opening myself up to anyone even before I ended up in Hell. And then you came along."

Vox feels guilty at that admission. "Al, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you…"

Alastor chuckles and shakes his head. "You didn't let me finish. My mistake is loving you. Even if I walked away my heart wouldn't let me get far. But I can't bring myself to regret it. Even after all this time I still love you."

Alastor turns to face him fully, and Vox freezes.

Alastor is crying.

He's not smiling, he's holding back his grief, and Vox feels a sharper stab of guilt.

"Oh, Alastor…" Vox wraps his arms around the other sinner. "Al, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I hate you," Alastor sobs, "I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you! I hate that I still love you…"

Vox says nothing. Instead he hugs his Alastor tighter. He'll stay like this for as long as Alastor needs him to. It's not the same as before, but it's a hopeful start.

"His- their frequency" screaming crying throwing up I'm on the fucking floor and the leaving the shadows open for him I'm so.

Perfect and devastating as usual so bittersweet at the end but I love it

Someone made fanart for this!

[cuteniarose]

If Twitter was a thing in the Avatar universe do you think the official verified Avatar twitter account would be passed down to the new Avatar like the PotUS and FLotUS accounts?

So with Aang you get like 50 years of funny shitposts and Gyatso's quotes and long chain exchanges with his friends and pictures of lemurs and sky bison and scenery and his beautiful wife, then 17 years of radio silence before Korra gets on there and starts yelling at politicians in quote retweets, posting thirst traps of her abs and simping for Asami

And then Elon Musk Varrick buys the site, renames it to something stupid and ruins it for everyone

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Hey besties, ya girl is currently going through a bit of a menty b at the moment 😗 work is legitimately draining the life out of me (standardized testing season is the WORST) and I started looking for a new job (literally anyone hire me pls- I legit have applied to 50+ jobs at this point and have heard nothing but radio silence and rejection) and writing/being on here in general has really taken a backseat.

As much as it sucks, I probably won't be on here as much bc I am spending all my free time looking for jobs, and unfortunately, Javier Peña isn't planning on paying my bills any time in the future 🥴

I'm still planning on working on NTL or other things if inspiration (or time) strikes, but if you don't see me on here as much, just know I am fighting for my life trying to make it to the end of the school year and find a job that gets me out of teaching 😭

I also just hit 2k followers recently (wtf?!?!!) and it genuinely means SO much to me that y'all have been so sweet and kind to me and my stories. I don't think I have time to do a celebration, but I just wanna let you know I am so thankful for each and every one of you. Sending big hugs and smooches to all of you, I love you all so much 🥺💛

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

There's a psychic, Oliver Pryce, who is living in town and who Sam thinks is strong enough to connect to someone in Heaven. He's located two towns over so Sam and Cas immediately head over there.

"Who is this guy?" Cas asks.

"So, back in the '50s, Oliver Pryce was a kid psychic. He performed everywhere--carnivals, Atlantic City, you name it. He was the real deal. The Men of Letters were teaching him how to control his powers when they were killed. The point is, he's one of the good guys. He might be happy to see us."

Sam and Cas approach Oliver's house and see a "No Trespassing" sign on his fence.

"Or not," Cas says.

Sam walks past the fence, walks up the porch steps, and pounds on his front door.

"Mr. Pryce? Oliver Pryce!"

No response.

"I'll break it down," Cas says seriously.

"Dude, chill."

"What? I'm helping." The front door opens and Oliver stands there with a slight glare. "Just follow my lead." Cas turns to the older man. "Mr. Pryce? This is Sam--"

"Winchester. You're Sam Winchester, Man of Letters."

"How did you know?"

"Mind reader, remember?" Oliver's eyes look Cas up and down as he tries to figure out who or what he is. "What are you?"

"I'm an Angel."

"No, you can't be," Oliver frowns.

"Why not?"

"I'm an atheist."

"Not anymore," Sam says. Both he and Cas enter Oliver's house and Oliver escorts them to the living room. There are pictures of Oliver during his younger years hanging on the wall. "Is that you?"

"It was me. I don't do the psychic stuff anymore. Being around people, it's kind of... Hell, all those brains yapping all the time drive a guy bananas."

"Because you can hear everyone's thoughts?" Cas asks.

"Well, not yours. All I'm getting from you is colors. The hippie over here? I'm seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin' fella and a prison cell?"

Sam frowns at being called a hippie but lets it go.

"That's Heaven's jail," Cas says.

"Heaven's got a fucking jail?"

"Yeah, it does, and we're looking to break someone out of it. We have an inside man but we need your help to talk to him."

"If I say no?"

"You're the mind reader," Sam smirks.

"I'll get my shit," Oliver sighs. Oliver sets his living room up like one of his seance sessions and sits in between Sam and Cas. Candles cover the surface of the table and a small radio sits in the middle of the table. "Do you have anything that belonged to the deceased?"

"Yeah, right here."

Sam pulls out Bobby's hat and sets it on the table. If anyone will have enough motivation to help you and Dean, it's your dad.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands."

All three men do and Oliver begins chanting something in Latin. The lights start to flicker, the table shakes slightly, and the candles start shooting flames from the wicks. Once Oliver is done chanting, he opens his eyes and nods to Sam.

"Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me?" Silence. "Bobby, we need your help."

"Sam?"

Bobby's voice comes from the radio in the middle of the table. Sam doesn't know how long this connection will last so he speaks fast and tells Bobby everything that has been happening with you and Dean.

"Y/N is turning into a monster, Bobby. She's soulless and pretty soon, your daughter won't be your daughter. She'll be beyond saving. Anyway, that's the short version of what's been happening. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Bobby says thickly. "What about Joanna?"

Sam looks at Cas.

"All I know is that they're safe. She's a witch again, Bobby, which means she can read minds. Dean and I can't know where they are."

"They? There's more than just Joanna?"

"We don't have time to get into this right now, Bobby."

"Okay, just so I'm hearing this right, you have to figure out a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before he turns back into a demon and off Y/N before she goes postal?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, just another day at the office for you boys, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here. Y/N isn't either."

"Why not?"

"Y/N threatened her kids. She made him promise not to look for the cure or else she'll find her kids and kill them. She doesn't want this cure, Bobby. Dean's distracting her right now. I never made any promise to find the cure."

"Shit," Bobby sighs. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."

"Hey, Sam, you remember when this job was just chopping up some fang and tossing back a cold one?"

"I miss that," Sam sighs.

"Ditto. So, while I'm playing Steve McQueen, is anyone gonna be looking for me?"

"Everyone," Cas answers. "The Angels will not like a soul wandering free."

"Do you have a way to slow them down?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Bobby. You always do."

"Listen, I appreciate the warm and fuzzy, but I ain't exactly playing on the big leagues these days. I'm mostly drinking and reading the classics. Truth is, I'm rusty and maybe there's somebody better out there."

"Bobby, there isn't. I'm telling you, if you love Y/N and Dean in the way I know you do, you'll do this for them... for me."

Bobby takes two deep breaths before scoffing.

"Hell, I'm already dead. What's the worst that could happen? What do I need to do?"

"You need to find your Heaven's escape hatch. Look for something that shouldn't be there, and that's your way out."

"If I find a way out, then what?"

"You'll be in a long hallway with a bunch of doors. The gate to Earth will be behind number forty-two."

"Okay."

Bobby gets off his ass and starts looking around in the small room he always stays in and drinks. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but there is something on the carpet he only notices until now. A small white string is sticking out of the carpet he's standing on. He reaches down and pulls on it, and a doorway opens on the back wall. White light pours from it and he smirks.

"Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

The second that Bobby steps through the door into the hallway, the connection to Bobby is severed. Sam and Cas, after thanking Oliver, head back to the playground. They stay stuck in the shadows so the angels don't suspect anything. All they have to do is wait for Bobby to open the gate and Cas can go through without a hitch.

"This better work. I need my brother and best friend back," Sam sighs.

"You sure he can handle this?" Cas asks.

"He's Bobby. He can handle anything, especially when it comes to his daughter."

The second Bobby sets foot into the hallway, the alarm blares and he bangs his fist on the wall.

"Balls!"

If Bobby doesn't do something now, the angels will come for him and ruin everything. He looks at the endless doors in the hallway and gets an idea. He starts opening up all the doors and calling out for their occupants. Before he knows it, a ton of people are wandering the halls looking confused. That's when the angels come including Hannah.

"What? Find out how this happened," Hannah says to one of the other angels. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I need you to return to your Heavens in a calm, orderly manner."

"Oh, yeah? Well, who made you boss?" Bobby says loudly.

"Right?"

"Who the hell you think do you are?" another person asks.

This causes an outrage where the souls are trying to fight back against the angels. Bobby uses this and escapes while the angels are occupied. He slips into another hallway and searches for door forty-two. When he finds it, he pushes it open. Sam and Cas have been waiting patiently for Bobby to find the door. A rift opens from above the sandbox and the two men jump into action. Sam runs to keep the guarding angels back while Cas runs for the door.

"Go! Go!" Sam says and tackles one of the angels to the ground.

Cas jumps through the door of Heaven and slides on the floor right in front of Bobby.

"Welcome to the party," Bobby chuckles. Bobby helps Cas to his feet and pats him on the back. "So, I need you to tell me how bad it really is."

"Um..."

"Cas, what's happening?"

"Dean is angry all the time. Y/N doesn't have a soul. Dean has it. He sucked her soul out of her when Metatron killed him. He tainted hers as dark as his so we're waiting for her soul to purify before we can put it back in."

"Does Dean know you're here?"

"He knows we're looking for a way to get the Mark off. He doesn't know you're involved. Y/N doesn't know anything. If she does, she will hurt your granddaughters and grandson."

"Wait." Bobby stops Cas from walking and gets tears in his eyes. "I have three grandchildren?"

If he doesn't know about Maryann, he doesn't know about Robert and what happened to him.

"Maryann was born two years after Joanna. She was a twin. Robert, your grandson, didn't make it. He was a stillborn. Noah is adopted. Y/N found him at a time when they needed each other."

"I have three grandkids," Bobby whispers to himself.

"You might not if Y/N continues down this road."

Cas leads Bobby to the prison where Metatron currently is. He looks up when the two men enter and grins knowingly.

"Well, howdy, fellas."

"This is the Scribe of God? He looks like a Fraggle," Bobby scoffs.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment. That was an excellent program."

"Metatron, we are here--"

"I know why you're here, Asstiel, and I'm not interested. I told you I would rather die than let Dean and Y/N Winchester use me as their personal punching bag again."

"Don't worry. They're not involved. You're gonna be my punching bag," Cas glares.

"Ah, the B team, huh? Interesting. Keys are over there." Metatron points to the keys hanging on the wall. "Chop chop!"

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Bobby asks.

"Unfortunately."

Sam killed both angels so they wouldn't blab to the other ones of what Cas did. He's been waiting patiently by the car for the door to Heaven to open again. It's been about two hours when it finally opens, and Cas steps out with Metatron. Bobby isn't with him. He didn't think he would be.

"Sam-tastic! Miss me?" Metatron sniffs the air. "Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!"

Metatron tries walking to the car but Cas pulls him back by his jacket collar.

"You don't get to make demands, Metatron. You're not in charge here."

"Oh, I'm afraid I am. I know about the Mark. I have your Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, boys. Learn it, live it, love it."

Sam and Cas look at each other, and the Winchester nods to the angel once. Without blinking, Cas slides out his angel blade and slices Metaron's neck horizontally. It's not to kill him, no, it's to steal his Grace. He did it so fast that Metatron didn't have enough time to react. Before he knows it, his Grace is trapped in a small container Sam brought.

Metatron is human.

Knowing he won't heal from this, Sam takes out his gun and shoots Metatron in the leg. The former angel screams in pain and falls on his ass while reaching for his bleeding leg.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"We have your Grace, Metatron. You're mortal now. So, you will answer our questions or Sam will, what's the phrase?" Cas' voice deepens angrily. "Blow your fucking brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron."

"Learn it, live it, love it," Sam smirks. "How do we get rid of the Mark?"

"I don't know," Metatron stutters. Sam aims the gun at his head and the former angel backs away in fear. "I don't know! It's old magic, God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?"

"What about the tablets?"

"No, there's nothing in them about the Mark," he stutters again.

"So, when you said, 'The river ends at the source,' that was--"

"I was just making up shit, trying to buy time till I could screw you over. It worked before."

"He's telling the truth," Cas says. His eyes darken. "Shoot him."

Sam raises his gun without question, dead set on killing Metatron.

"No, no! No!" Metatron panics. "Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it."

"It's your call, Cas."

"I have to get my Grace back, Sam," Cas whispers.

Metatron is relieved that he isn't going to die today. Cas shoves him into the back of the car but before Sam can get behind the wheel, Cas stops him. He reaches into his trenchcoat and pulls out two envelopes.

"Listen, Bobby asked me to give you these. One is for you and Dean. The other is for Y/N. Don't give it to her until her soul is returned."

"Okay. Thanks," Sam whispers.

If he gives it to you now, you'll destroy this and you'd be heartbroken if you destroyed something you can't ever get back.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[faulty-writes]

[ Hello followers and or fans, I present to you, Chapter Three of my Tensei holiday series. You can find the first few chapters by searching this tag on Tumblr or you can find Chapter One by clicking this link. This series will probably go on into early next year, but we could all use a little more Tensei in our lives. ]

[ Nothing could get worse between discovering his letter and the broken heart you felt...or so you thought. After arriving at the Iida Estate for the scheduled dinner, Tensei’s parents finally tell you what they want to talk about. Unfortunately, it’s not what you expected and despite declining their offer, they aren’t willing to listen to reason. On the bright side, at least Tensei didn’t see it coming either. ]

On your way to the Iida Estate, you stopped by the agency, which was filled with eerie silence except for your hurried footsteps. It seemed every rational thought in your mind was absent because you couldn’t explain why you wanted the crumbled-up letter.

Despite your lack of sleep, you hoped that when you woke up, it wouldn’t be there. Maybe you just wanted to confirm if it was real or not. Unfortunately, that ache in your chest returned immediately when you spotted the torn and crinkled piece of paper.

It was tempting to tear it apart, but instead, you folded it up and tucked it inside your burgundy blazer. Although you were certain that the Iida family members would all be wearing formal attire that you could only hope to afford, you tried your best to coordinate an outfit that would at least please them.

In addition to your blazer, you also wore an ivory-colored, button-up shirt. The collar of it was adorned with a silky black bow tie which matched the black-hued trousers you wore. The finishing touch to your outfit was a pair of semi-polished black dress shoes.

Overall, you hoped that you gave the aura of a sophisticated individual while also representing the festive season. You took a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to go away. You needed to be mindful and alert during your visit with the Iida family, which meant you couldn’t let this distract you.

It was like being on a mission or apprehending a villain. You needed to be coordinated, calculated, and ready for the unexpected, which in this case, might be the conversation Mr. and Mrs. Iida wished to have with you. Yeah, you were still dreading that. But there was little to be done about it now.

Taking another deep breath, you locked the door to your office and made your way down to the main floor of the agency before locking the entrance doors and climbing into your car. “Well here goes nothing…” you muttered before starting the engine.

The drive to the Iida Estate was short, and the only thing that made it somewhat bearable was the holiday music blasting from the radio. In a way, it was comforting. But you frowned knowing that this festive time of the year would be over soon.

At least you could take pride in knowing that it was a productive year. This was evident because the Idaten Agency had made the Top 50 list of the Best Agencies in Japan, and you knew that was partly thanks to the new team members who certainly pulled their weight and made the agency just a little better.

The thought made you smile, and you knew that Tensei was also proud of the way you were taking care of his former agency. Nobody knows what tomorrow, let alone next year will bring. All you had to do was your best. This is what you reminded yourself as you drove past the gates of the Iida Estate.

After parking and getting out of your car, you heard someone shout, “Hey!” and turned to see Tensei rolling down the ramp toward you. Before you realized it, a smile came to your face. Guess that was the power he had over you, and his handsome appearance might have had something to do with it.

Like you, he sported a blazer but colored a deep evergreen with golden trim along the cuffs of it in addition to golden cufflinks. A crisp white dress shirt lay beneath his blazer, although the collar of it was open, and a silky red tie encircled it and you noticed there were small snowflakes across its fabric.

His tie complimented the bright red pocket square located on the left side of his blazer. His trousers were a deep shade of charcoal and black oxfords were on his feet. “You look nice,” you complimented, and he smiled. “Thanks, Tenya helped pick this out for me,” he replied, and you chuckled.

Yeah, that sounded like something Tenya would do. “That figures,” you said before opening the side door of your car to take the gifts you had gotten for the Iida family out. A moment of silence filled the air before Tensei said, “You look amazing.” You cried out when your head hit the ceiling of the car and stumbled to turn around.

The gifts you had piled in your arms fell partly on Tensei’s lap and on the ground. He looked startled but immediately addressed your well-being. “Did you hit your head?” He asked, reaching out to you. “No, uh, I mean yeah but…” you rubbed the top of your head and like a ripened tomato, your cheeks turned crimson.

As you knelt to pick up the gifts, you hoped Tensei wouldn’t comment on the color of your face. “Y-you uh, just surprised me with your compliment, and uh…” You shook your head; this wasn’t how you normally act around Tensei.

Jeez, finding that letter really messed you up, but you couldn’t let him find out. ‘Right. He’s…my friend and I must be supportive. No matter how much it hurts,’ and boy did it ever. “Um, sorry for spilling those on you. I can take them,” you said, attempting to organize the gifts in your arms before reaching out to him but he rolled back.

“I can help you carry them!” He insisted with a smile. “Besides you seem a little out of it today, guess the busy holiday season caught up to you, huh?” Tensei had a way of being blunt when he wanted to be, and while that bluntness may come off as rude, most of the time he didn’t mean anything by it.

“Right…busy holiday season…” you replied before walking past him. “Thanks,” you nonchalantly said before respectfully removing your shoes and walking into the Iida Estate. The interior was bathed in a soft beige color, with white trim molding across the top.

The polished marble flooring reflected the light from the chandelier suspended from the ceiling. The center of the foyer was adorned with a grand staircase, its balusters carved with precision and created slender forms that enhanced the allure of elegance that lingered through the room.

At the bottom of the staircase stood a magnificent tree. A string of evergreen encircled it, and flickering lights of red, blue, and yellow provided it with an enchanting glow. Delicate handcrafted ornaments hung from its branches, and a sparkling star adorned the top of the tree.

Beneath the boughs was a delightful array of presents, each one wrapped in festive paper that created a vibrant hue against the marble flooring. Somehow the Iida’s always outdid themselves when it came to decorating and you looked at Tensei who too seemed hypnotized by the tree’s majestic appearance.

The sound of his mother’s voice, however, broke the hold the tree held over your mind. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” both of you turned to look at her. A sumptuous crimson kimono hugged her figure, its fabric embroidered with intricate snowflakes.

A green obi with golden swirls encircled her waist and layers of silk bellowed from beneath the kimono, leaving the impression of modesty and poise. The sleeves were long and flowing, with golden trim. On her feet, she wore plain white tabi socks with zori sandals.

Overall, she represented a traditional elegance of beauty and charm. Things that made you feel somewhat subconscious about your outfit, but hey, you tried. She approached the two of you, a smile playing across her features.

“Oh, you brought gifts. Please place them under the tree,” she said, gesturing to it. “Oh right,” you replied, kneeling, and carefully placing each present underneath said tree, making sure the labels were facing the correct way.

Tensei rolled over and handed you the presents that were currently sitting on his lap. “Thank you,” once you were sure all the presents were organized, you stood up. “Dinner is still cooking, why don’t we have tea in the parlor while we wait?” She suggested motioning to the archway located to the left of the foyer.

“Oh, uh,” you glanced at Tensei who nodded. “That…sounds lovely,” you replied before bowing. “Thank you very much,” you leaned back up and made your way to the parlor. Much like the foyer, its walls were painted beige, and plush armchairs were scattered around to enhance the purpose of conversation.

The scent of fresh flowers with subtle citrus undertones mingled with the musky aroma of aged books. The large bookcase surrounding the room and the vase of fresh flowers on the ornate table that took center stage in the room were the sources of the smells.

Overall, the room conveyed a sense of comfort. However, this was short-lived because when you saw Mr. Iida seated in the furthest chair, you tensed up. The conversation he was having with Tenya, who sat next to him, halted when he noticed your presence.

A shiver ran down your spine when he locked eyes with you, and you were about to blurt out a greeting when Mrs. Iida brushed past you. “I’m so happy everyone is here,” she commented before walking over to her husband. “I’ll go make some tea, Tenya will you help me?” She asked and he immediately sprung to his feet.

“Why of course, I would be delighted to help!” He replied, chopping his hand rapidly through the air. You noticed his outfit was a little different from Tensei’s as it was slightly more casual. Instead of a suit, he was wearing a forest green vest that fit snuggly against his chest.

A white button-up shirt complimented the vest, allowing its stark color to stand out. He appeared to be wearing dark, well-fitting jeans that still somehow conveyed a hint of sophistication as did his black dress shoes. “It is wonderful to have you here, Y/n,” he said, his hand moving through the air again.

“I do hope that the festivities occurring today will not be interrupted as they were previously,” you knew he was referring to the incident that happened yesterday. “I guess we’ll see,” you replied, shrugging and Tenya offered you a smile before he left the room with his mother.

“Do you wanna sit here?” Tensei asked, gesturing to one of the open chairs. You were about to respond only to have Mr. Iida speak first. “No,” he said, his voice slightly raspy and authority coated it. You tensed up and looked at him. Like his wife, he too was sporting a kimono although a tad less colorful and more traditional.

It was a deep emerald and you noticed it was partially hidden by the haori he wore. A simple red obi complimented his kimono and was tied behind his back in an artful knot. He too was wearing white tabi socks and zori sandals. Tensei laughed.

“Do you want them to sit closer?” he joked, and Mr. Iida nodded before gesturing to the seat that Tenya was previously sitting in. ‘Oh boy…’ You grimaced and looked at Tensei for reassurance. He offered you a smile and lifted his hand to the side of his mouth.

“I’ll sit next to you,” he whispered, knowing you were still a little uneasy when in his father’s company. “Oh um,” you nodded and reluctantly sat in the requested seat. As promised, Tensei rolled over to take his spot next to you and locked his wheelchair.

“So, Dad,” he began engaging in casual conversation with his father while you sat there with your hands in your lap. It was strange to think you were a Pro Hero, and leader of Team Idaten and could talk to fans, crowds, and villains with little to no problem.

But Tensei’s father…that was an entirely different challenge. His intimidating nature constantly got to you, and it made your mind go blank, making it nearly impossible to speak to him. The minutes that ticked by felt like years, and the tension in the air grew thicker by the second.

Like a fish out of water, you felt like you were unable to get oxygen. Even as the chatter between Tensei and his father continued, you felt awkward. But like an angel descending from the heavens, Mrs. Iida broke the tension when she walked back in with Tenya who was carrying a silver tray that housed a black tea kettle.

Its glazed surface was adorned with a subtle depiction of cherry blossoms. Surrounding the kettle were five cups, each one painted with a unique pattern. You assumed this was so everyone knew for sure which cup was theirs.

As she got closer, the earthy richness and sweet undertones, somewhat reminiscent of roasted seaweed permeated the air and managed to put you at ease for the time being. “You can place it on the table Tenya,” she instructed and once that was done, she carefully poured everyone a cup.

You held yours snugly between your palms, enjoying the subtle heat that seeped through its porcelain body. The weight of the cup in addition to the overwhelming aroma acted like an anchor, grounding your troubles for the moment.

The heat intensified when you brought the cup to your lips and gently blew on it before taking a sip, enjoying the feeling of the warmth of it rushing over your tongue. “Ah,” you said, licking your lips. “This tea is delicious Mrs. Iida,” she smiled at your compliment and took a sip from her cup before looking at Tensei.

“Do you and Y/n have any special plans after dinner?” She asked, making your eyebrow raise. There was a good chance you and Tensei would be doing something after dinner, permitted work didn’t require your attention. But you couldn’t help but feel she was asking that as if she wanted to make sure there were no plans set in motion.

“Not sure,” Tensei replied, smiling when you looked at him. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” he said, giving you a playful wink before drinking his tea. You knit your eyebrows before Mr. Iida said, “Don’t make any solid plans.” You looked at him, watching as he drank from his cup before returning your stare.

His gaze was cold and authoritative but that could be because he didn’t want you or Tensei to argue with him. Luckily Tensei found his response just as concerning. “Oh, did you want us after dinner for something?” He asked. His parents were known for last-minute surprises.

Mr. Iida’s gaze lingered on you, making that awkward tension surround you again. ‘Why the hell is he looking at me?’ You glanced to the side and resumed drinking your tea, hoping he would get the hint that his stare was making you uncomfortable.

“Hmp,” he grumbled and rose from his seat to place his cup onto the tray. Mrs. Iida turned to Tensei, “Your father and I were hoping to celebrate something else today as well,” she explained, being as vague as possible. “Something else?” Tensei repeated before looking at his brother.

As if reading his mind, Tenya said, “I am afraid I am unaware of any premeditated plans mother and father may have contrived.” With that, he finished his tea, and placed it on the tray as his father had done. You blinked, trying to process the lack of information and make sense of it.

“Pardon,” all your heads turned to see a man wearing a toque blanche and a white double-breasted jacket. The sleeves of which were rolled up, revealing his rather dry-looking skin. In addition, he was wearing a pristine apron that cinched around his waist, a few stains were visible on the surface of it.

Underneath the apron, he was wearing dark pants. It was safe to assume that he was one of the many chefs the Iida family employed. He bowed respectfully and gestured toward the kitchen. “Dinner is served,” he said, and Mrs. Iida smiled.

“Oh wonderful,” she stood and placed her cup on the tray before instructing Tenya and Tensei to wash up for dinner, then she looked at you and your stomach twisted. Oh no, this was the part where you were going to find out just what they wanted to discuss with you.

That uneasy ache returned, spreading through your chest like wildfire and a feeling of nausea washed over you making your face appear pale. “Huh?” Tensei noticed your odd change in complexion. “Are you okay? Heh, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, placing his hand on your thigh.

You paused, ignoring the tremble that coursed through your body like a bolt of lightning. Then your lip quivered, his touch was so gentle and loving. “Y-yeah,” you replied, swallowing heavily. “I-I’m-” The sound of throat clearing interrupted you. The two of you turned your heads to see Mr. Iida.

His arms were crossed, and his facial expression was stern. “Tenya, please assist your brother to the restroom,” he stated. “Yes, father!” He immediately and enthusiastically replied. Before Tensei could say anymore, Tenya unlocked his wheelchair and quickly escorted him out of the room.

You curled your fingers so tightly in your lap that your bones began to ache, you had never been so nervous to talk to Tensei’s parents before and maybe you wouldn’t be this nervous if you hadn’t read that damn letter. ‘Whatever happens…happens,’ you reminded yourself after taking a deep breath.

“Y/n,” you looked up at Mrs. Iida who was standing proudly next to her husband. “Y-yes?” you replied, bracing for the worst. “You’ve been a part of our family for quite some time now,” she said, walking over to grab your hand, giving it a gentle tug to signal you to stand up.

Despite the frown on your face, you did as she wanted and placed your now empty cup of tea on the tray. “I still remember when Tensei introduced us to you during your first year at Yuuei, he was so happy to find a classmate who supported the idea of his future agency,” she smiled as she replayed the moment in her head.

Yes, she knew something had changed in her son shortly after he enrolled in Yuuei’s hero course. That certain spark in his eyes was nothing short of admiration and she had her suspicions that maybe, just maybe, her son had found someone to fancy.

The day Tensei brought you home confirmed her suspicions and from that moment on, she hoped that the two of you would end up together. But as the years passed, this hope dwindled. She thought for certain you’d fall in love with her son after the Hero Killer incident that rendered him paraplegic, but again, she was proven wrong.

She knew that the only person her son had eyes for was you. And as far as she knew, you didn’t have any romantic interest in anyone. Yet, Tensei and you remained inseparable. She was very grateful for all that you had done for him and likewise, she assumed that you were grateful for everything Tensei had done for you.

So, there was no reason to delay the exciting decision that she and her husband came to. “We’d like to share the plans we have for you and Tensei,” you knit your eyebrows. “I-I’m sorry?” you replied, what the hell did she mean by plans for you and Tensei?

Didn’t they know that Tensei had feelings for someone else? Or so you assumed he did. The letter was evidence enough! He wrapped an arm around his wife, pulling her closer as if sensing your conflicting aura, and firmly said, “We’d like you to marry our son.”

Your world shattered when you heard those words, and your breath was stolen away. You had joked several times that it was a surprise that they hadn’t proposed that you marry Tensei, and now that joke turned into reality, and it made your heart both race and sink like an anchor.

The war of conflict between selfishness and selflessness and your heart’s lovesick needs versus your brain’s logical reasoning hit you like a brick. “I…um,” words weren’t coming easy now, and you squeezed your hands together, making your fingers turn red.

You swallowed thickly. “I…appreciate your proposal but um…” you latched onto your lip, trying to ignore the saddened look that fell across Mrs. Iida’s face. “I need some time to think about this,” you bowed before scurrying out of the room, guilt flooding your heart like a deadly plague.

This was just too much to process at once, who knew that your greatest enemy would be love? A frown decorated her lips as she turned to look at her husband, hurt and confusion shining in her eyes. It was not an expression he favored seeing on her and he vowed to fix it.

“I believe we’ll be late for dinner,” he said and ignored her perplexed reaction as he guided the two of them out of the room. The long rectangular dining table was covered in an ivory tablecloth that pooled over the edges of said table.

Fine China decorated with subtle festive patterns laid on appropriately themed placemats in front of each chair. The silverware sparkled with a mirror-like sheen and was placed on either side of the said China plates. The glassware gleamed like freshly fallen snow and stood at attention beside the complexly folded linen napkins.

A base of evergreen branches dusted in a coating of artificial snow surrounded by rustic pinecones lay in the center of the table. Their rich brown hues created an earthy contrast that gave the feeling of the holidays with a touch of the outdoors.

Along the branches were clusters of fake cranberries, adding a pop of color and further capturing the essence of the season. Three slender candles, aglow with artificial flames stood like pillars amidst the greenery and each one of them was dressed in a delicate red bow.

At the head of the table sat Mr. Iida, and next to him on the left was his wife. Across from her sat Tenya and next to him Tensei, and finally you took your place next to Mrs. Iida. You shyly glanced at Tensei from across the table as all of you waited for the food to be brought out.

A few minutes of silence passed before the savory scent of roasted turkey, creamy mashed potatoes, green beans, carrots, cranberry sauce, and mouthwatering dinner rolls filled the air. You swallowed as the food was placed on the table, and your stomach gave an approving growl.

As the last of the food was being brought out, you followed Mrs. Iida’s lead and unfolded your linen napkin before draping it across your lap. After expressions of gratitude were complete, Mr. Iida went to work cutting the turkey and everyone filled their plates.

The sound of silverware clanking against said plates echoed, as did the gentle clink of glasses. Regardless of the lack of conversation, there was a peaceful and familial atmosphere. You had almost forgotten about the earlier incident until the repetitive sound of a spoon gently hitting the side of a glass echoed.

Everyone at the table looked at Mr. Iida, the one conducting the noise. He stood up when he was certain he had everyone’s attention. “It’s an honor for the Iida family to be together to celebrate this festive occasion,” he turned his glance on you and unlike before, you weren’t intimidated by any means.

Rather you cocked your eyebrow at him, wondering where he was going with this speech. “And it’s time to celebrate the newest member of our family,” he said. While he knew you had declined the offer, he and his wife so graciously gave you, he would make it happen regardless.

This is what his wife wanted after all. There was no better gift he could give her than watching their son get married to the one she believed would make an excellent spouse. What? You looked around, almost as if you expected someone else to spontaneously manifest out of thin air.

Naturally, you became quite concerned when you noticed that everyone’s gaze was turned on you. ‘Why is everyone looking at me?’ You thought for a moment that you had food on your face or perhaps that you spilled something on your outfit.

But you quickly realized when you looked back at Mr. Iida that he was now gesturing in your direction. “Uh...” you glanced away, feeling quite awkward. Mr. Iida lifted his glass into the air, the contents of it swirling around as he made a toast.

“I’m honored that Y/n has agreed to marry our son,” he stated causing Tenya to jolt in his seat. He blinked, and his lips parted as he looked at his brother who was equally as shocked. But Tensei’s eyes were focused on you as if you would have the answer to what had just happened.

Your mouth hung open and you shook your head slightly as if to convey to him and Tenya that you had no idea what was going on. Well, other than the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Iida didn’t respect the answer you had already given them and were now twisting it in their favor.

You frowned, understandably angry, in addition to the other confusing emotions you had been dealing with since yesterday. Even if marrying Tensei would be a dream, you couldn’t let him do that if he had feelings for someone else. “Mr. Iida I-” he ignored you.

“I propose a toast to the new couple,” he said before looking at his wife who was absolutely beaming with happiness. “We’ll start planning the wedding accordingly,” with that, he swallowed a mouthful of his drink and sat back down. “I’m so honored that you changed your mind,” Mrs. Iida said, turning to you.

Despite wanting to tell her that you, in fact, did not change your mind. You knew that was disrespectful and you didn’t want to ruin dinner. So instead, you nodded and remained quiet as you continued eating. You focused your attention on your plate, refusing to look at the members of the Iida family.

Your mind was too preoccupied to carry on a conversation anyway. It was a strange feeling, you finally got the chance to be with the one you had adored for years and yet, you couldn’t because he had feelings for someone else.

Granted, there was no name mentioned in the letter making it nearly impossible to figure out who he was referring to. Asking Tenya did cross your mind, but you felt like that was going behind Tensei’s back and the last thing you needed to do was to hurt him.

The most important thing now was not your feelings but Tensei’s. If you could have a private moment with him after dinner, then maybe you could explain how you found his letter and ended up reading it out of curiosity.

You could potentially also explain what had just happened and how you initially refused the offer his parents gave you to marry him. You wanted to sigh but instead latched onto your lip. This holiday season just turned into a Hallmark love triangle tragedy.

[ Chapter IV ]