#I can already smell the fandom villainizing her

[ang3licmizery]

Celia ripley they could never make me hate you

[tales-from-elysivm]

★。／can i be a hero too?＼。★

ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 1,196

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory

notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)

! this is a repost from my other blog !

‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’

Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.

It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway

‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’

‘The place smells like shit too.’

‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.

‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’

Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.

‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’

[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?

‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’

Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 

‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.

She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’

No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!

However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 

‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’

Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:

‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’

Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 

Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!

Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].

‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’

Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.

‘But why?’

‘’Cause it’s annoying.’

[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 

The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 

(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)

(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)

For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.

For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 

But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 

‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’

And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.

He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 

Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.

He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

i really enjoyed writing this!

let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.

[spacedace]

So I've seen a lot of "Jazz works as a therapist at Arkam" in the dp x dc fandom, and while I like the concept, I also feel like Jazz would take one look at the place and immediately be like "what the absolute fuck" at just the everything of the place.

Like, she either nopes out after the tour during the interview or quits not too long afterward starting there, not because she can't take it but because she's so appalled by what's going on there and can smell the corruption rolling off the place and knows no one sent to there is ever actually going to get the help they need.

So Jazz decides to open a private practice instead while still being absolutely determined to work with the various rogues in the city, she is here to help and nothing is going to stop her.

So she just starts showing up at known hangouts of rogues and during their heists/schemes/sprees, and even fights between them and the batfam, just like

"Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Dr. Jasmine Fenton/Nightingale/whatever last name she’s using and I was hoping we could talk!"

Casually kicks a baterang away without looking because she's being polite and professional!

"I understand that your experience with therapy through Arkam has been nothing but atrocious and that you are rightfully -"

Kicks Batman away without breaking eye contact or a sweat.

"Suspicious of attempting therapy again, and Idon't want to force anything on you, therapy should be on your terms after the experiences you've had but -"

Grabs Robin out of the air as he leaps at the rogue she's talking to and tucks him under her arm, ignoring his feral hissing and all attempts to break her hold.

"-I really think that you'd find it beneficial, even if I'm not the right therapist for you."

The rogue in question is having the time of their life and takes Jazz's business card - and a few extra to pass around - not really intending to actually ever book a therapy appointment with her but way too entertained and excited to share this madness with everyone else.

But then one of the rogues actually looks up Jazz's website and sees all the various safe guards she’s put in place to ensure that any villians that come to her will be protected while seeing her - soundproof therapy room, regular sweeps for listening and tracking devices, the most insane firewalls and protections anyone has ever seen on her network, and ooh she provides snacks and drinks!

So someone finally books an appointment with her, half convinced she's either going to turn them in or is a villain herself intent to experiment on them, but then it’s actually really nice??? And they feel a lot better afterwards?? She doesn't even say anything to indicate that she wants them to stop being villains, she just wants them to be okay??

So more and more rogues start going to her, and Batman was already losing his mind about this woman before - Oracle can't hack her system?!? And her background check shows a totally normal Psychiatrist?? - but now half of Gotham's heavy hitters and a dozen or so other minor league villains are seeing her regularly and every time he tries to get info on any plans the rogues might be scheme via her office it fails utterly. Nightwing got knocked out with something called a creep stick and when he tried to break in himself to get answers she just appeared out of no where and gave him the most scathing lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality before bullying him off her property and threatening to sick her brother on him if he tried again?

And because she's become such a figure in the Gotham underworld, she gets the attention of Joker.

And everyone, rogues and Bats alike, are terrified that she’s going to try and take him on as a patient like she has so many other villains in the city and that's just a recipe for tragedy.

But then the Joker is on his way to the hospital with two broken legs and the fear of god beat into him babbling about eldritch nightmares and whenever anyone asks Jazz what happened she just shrugs and just says things like "I refused him as a patient, he's not my problem." Or "My brother doesn't like clowns." And just, does not elaborate.

Batman is losing his mind over it all. Jazz is just happy to be able to actually help the rogues. Arkam is less happy about how she absolutely destroys their reputation.

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

As a non homestuck, what deos that mean👀

ough i wanted to be vague and quick but no i wasn't im so sorry fnsdmag tw for transphobia mostly i guess

homestuck ends. it's a somewhat open ended ending and they dont show the "proper" final battle, but it was implied in the comic already how it was going to go. a lot of people remained disappointed in that, but i personally think its a good one

people keep pestering hussie, creator of the comic, to continue the story

hussie, well known troll (haha) who more often than not both praised and made fun of the fandom directly in the comic, writes the epilogues. they're mostly awful and they're the umpteenth big fuck you to the fandom really; one is the "shipping" ending where everything goes bad bc everyone focuses only on shipping, the one is the "fighting" ending where everything goes bad and everyone fucking dies basically. it has some good ideas, there's more fourth wall breaking, but overall its an inconsistent sexist and misoginistic mess made out of spite by someone who clearly didn't want to work on homestuck anymore

it also features character assassination, be it "this character who's entire plot was about not wanting to be alone anymore is now a sex-crazed maniac who doesnt take no as an answer", "this character who was groomed all her life to be a dictator actually becomes hitler" or "this character who a lot of people hc as mtf is now ftm, but specifically in a timeline, in the other they still identify as female". you could argue it's bc the story is about one of the characters having a villain arc and managing to take control of the story and rewrite them, but he's also regressed to be someone who's obsessed with a character we were told he wasn't in love with anymore AND also says transphobic stuff so.

hussie actually opens the epilogues with one of the character saying pretty clearly that they're "beyond canon", and makes sure that everyone known that anything written outside of the comic itself, including sidecomics, videogames and the epilogues themselves, is as canon as you want it to be. unfortunately homestuck fans cant read and that + the fact that the epilogue end in a cliffhanger, homestuck 2 has to happen

hussie wants nothing to do with it and leaves the project to someone else. they give little to no details of the plot if not a few plotpoints, one of which being the fact that a character must be named yiffany

one of the people who was supposed to work on hs2 and the tie-in visual novel games "friendsim" starts fights with readers on twitter and is later on outed as a really bad person of the biphobic and ableist variety

on a minor note, some updates are patreon exclusive, and not in a "they'll eventually be posted" way, but in a "either you follow the patreon or you dont get the whole experience" kind of way

the story also has to follow the aformentioned sexist transphobic racist bullshit, to which they add terribly written "bury your gays" plot and also cheating!! no matter the timeline my girl kanaya gets shafted and cheated on and by now im gonna be real it really smells like lesbophobia in here

also futa jokes. like we all agree that the candy jade situation is fucked up right

in all of this, "what pumpkin" actually starts drama with a youtuber or something. idk. it's the team that sells the hs merch it's even more complicated. oh and also the videogame being so delayed that's a whole can of worms too.

anyway hussie actually says that they dont give a shit no more about homestuck and sell the rights to someone else. first thing we're told is that they're going to drop the 2 from the title of homestuck 2, turning it into homestuck: beyond canon. pretty much openly saying that no, this has nothing to do with homestuck, and it's officially Not Canon.

[elenatria]

I just came back from my Stellanspotting trip at the Ischia Film Festival and as I'm going through my files I'm filled with the memories of all my crazy Chernobyl-related trips of the past. It all comes back to me, how Alan Williams was the first Chernobyl cast member I ever met, how it all felt, and still makes me feel; the heroes, the villains. The crazy pairings.

So in my Alan Williams folder I come across this sceenshot from the Chernobyl script. That line was included in the scene, however if Alan Williams had uttered it twice ("anything", as mentioned in the original script) it would have had a different meaning. I've never been a fan of Chalery (or dubcon for that matter) but I know someone who was. We've drifted apart over the years, I don't know what fandom she is into now, but I hope she sees this just because now I understand, and wish I could have shared this with her when it mattered.

So here it is.

Charkov showers Valery with all kinds of threats, and when it's time to "read him his sentence", to tell him that his fate is going to be slow death and oblivion, he gloats: "It would be embarrassing to kill you now. And for what? Your testimony never happened, you never happened." He leans over Valery's ear, his voice nothing more than a lewd whisper. "But I can take it all back," he breathes with a dark smile. "You know I can, don't you, Valery? When we're back in Moscow I want you to report to me Monday evening. In my office at the Lubyanka."

Valery's face goes white as as sheet. "Report... report what?"

"You're not the one asking questions, Legasov," Charkov cuts him off. He gives him one last look and strides out of the kitchen.

That Monday, when Valery crosses Myasnitskaya Street with his gaze fixed on the massive building, its hundred glass eyes staring back at him, its old yellow bricks reeking of paranoia and torture and death, the sun has already set and the soft evening breeze, albeit July, chills him to the bone. He fills his lungs with the smell of the metropolis around him, the last air he will ever breathe, and enters the foyer. The receptionist has already been notified about his arrival, the guard is too ready to lead him to a discreet door on the third floor that no one would ever suspect to belong to the head of the KGB.

"It's just a door," Valery mutters to himself, his nerves tight as violin strings.

He knocks, and a cold compelling voice invites him in. A young employee with a side part and a freshly pressed suit, his back turned on the door, gives him a startled look over his shoulder and hastily gathers the papers scattered all over the Chairman's desk.

"I'll sign those later, Lyosha," Charkov decides and gives the young man a little smile.

Lyosha doesn't return the smile: he clutches the papers to his chest and leaves, giving Valery a curious side glance, as if someone as important as the deputy director of the Kurchatov institute has no business being there, in that remote half-lit room of the ancient headquarters of the KGB.

Charkov gets on his feet, straightens his tie and nods Valery towards a seat. As Valery sinks down, his back squeaking against old leather, he hears Charkov's footsteps behind him, the key turning twice with a dry click. He chokes on nothing. He wishes he could light a cigarette but there are no ashtrays in the office - not that he'd dare. He could use a swig of vodka but he remembers alcohol gives him chest burns. He's dying for fresh air but the windows are shut, the curtains drawn.

He's alone with a man who could shoot a bullet through his scull and have dinner with his wife afterwards.

Charkov walks back in front of him, sitting lazily on the desk, both hands in his pockets.

"Professor Legasov," he fakes a sigh crossing his legs, "what are we to do with you..."

Valery's tongue stiffens, his eyes glued to the floor. "I did as you asked," he mutters, "I came."

"Oh no," Charkov's face lights up with devilish amusement, "not yet."

Valery looks up, not sure if there's some sort of hidden meaning behind the words of the Chairman of the KGB. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do n__"

"Close your eyes," Charkov says. His voice has an unexpected softness to it.

"What__"

"Close. Your. Eyes."

Valery slides his eyes shut, knowing that this desk, those chairs, those drawn curtains could be the last objects he'd ever see before the barrel of a Makarov empties out in his brain. He wants to stop his hands from shaking, he wants to be brave and scream to the man placing both hands on the arms of his chair to get this over with, and just as he clasps his knees, ready to spring from his seat and fight for his life, the touch of lips against his own shuts him up completely, the hardened tip of a tongue takes his breath away as it pushes between his teeth, seeking to reach deeper.

[itsclydebitches]

I’m feeling dumb today lol how would Marrow use his tail in combat exactly???

Oh I don't actually have a good answer for that lol. I meant it more in a "The heroes' faunus traits as a whole are underused in combat" as opposed to "A dog tail, incapable of gripping like a monkey tail, specifically needs to be used somehow." But maybe Marrow needs his tail for balance, much like a dog would. (What if Neon fell in her fight not because of a bit of rubble, but because her tail was hurt?). Maybe it's a way of helping to control his body temperature (and having a furred appendage is particularly useful in the Atlas climate. Does the army look to specifically recruit faunus with those kinds of biological advantages?) Maybe it's a form of communication beyond wagging it as a gag. Imagine Marrow smiling and laughing because everything's just fine... but his teammates notice the position of his tail and realize that whoever he's talking to isn't to be trusted. But, you know, stuff like that requires worldbuilding the faunus with more detail and crafting an Ace Ops team that are allowed to be seen as competent, trusted teammates.

Or, far more easily, RT might have the tail be mostly aesthetic, but other dog traits are beneficial (or a hindrance) to huntsmen. Can Marrow run faster than most of his non-semblance boosted peers? Is his hearing better? Sense of smell? Does he possess any strength or agility beyond what's granted by aura? It's really less about having to use what we've already got and more about the initial designs failing to consider the whole animal. Which in the heroes' case is, as said, largely because RT just wants the cute aesthetic. Why does Blake only get cute ears instead of vicious, useful claws? Why does Marrow only get the cute tail instead of a knack for undercover work due to superb hearing? Why did the fandom need to go through a big debate in Volume 7 when Tyrian attacked because the whole frame job hinges on no one seeing him, but we thought that certain faunus could see in the dark? Most of the villains have faunus traits that are intimidatingly useful in a combat show, whereas most of the heroes' are just... there. Hell, RWBY could have even gone the route of a 'useful' tail being a source of envy for some. I sure do wish I could wield my tail like you do yours, Sun. That would be damn nice as a fellow fighter. Mine just ensures I don't fall flat on my face :/

[kokusfluffyhair]

There are SO MANY random occasions of hinting at sexual tension or Sesshomaru showing even a minor concern for Kagura over the course of the story. And it all comes together at the ending when Sesshomaru admits that he came when Kagura was dying to SEE HER, not because he was smelling Naraku. Even one of the anime openings (or endings? I don't remember) puts them together:

As beautiful it is as a part of the tragedy of her character that she was able to experience the small happiness -- which was enough to make her smile at the time of her death -- of being viewed as her individual person (as in, free from Naraku, in a way) by not just someone else, but THE someone else, I wish she could have survived. I understand in writing this genre that Kagura "had" to die because she was a piece of Naraku, who had to be destroyed in order for the story to resolve itself. But, instead of Kagura's body collapsing the moment Sesshomaru pulled out the Tenseiga to save her, she could have held on a bit longer and have been revived -- however, she could have lost her demonic energy and have been revived as a human. As a human who might have additional weaknesses due to the situation of her body, Sesshomaru could have brought her to his mother's to stay safe until the end of the story. His mother, who has these death-related tricks up her sleeve from the Meido Stone, could have had a barrier put up around Kagura that would make her energy seem like it was already in the underworld. This wouldn't be for Kagura to go out and fight during the rest of the story, but for a protective measure so Naraku wouldn't be sensing her being alive and attacking the Sky Castle -- though Naraku honestly has much more to concern himself with than that. Honestly too, it annoys me that Kagura couldn't be saved but that Rin was able to cheat death twice and Kohaku was able to survive after he was shot by a bunch of arrows as a child and then had a Shikon Jewel shard in his back to sustain his life. They go through hurdles to save these characters, but Kagura got nothing even though she was on the path to being a redeemed villain. With my proposed ending for Kagura, she would have to "pay" for her own wrongdoings and her birth having been from Naraku by living the rest of her days -- no matter how long or short -- as a human. (Personally, I don't think Kagura should have to "pay" for anything, but some people watching this genre would think she should, so just to please a bit of everyone in the fandom, she'll get a "punishment".) But she will also be left an opportunity for retribution in peace and along with Sesshomaru can go through experiencing these newly-addressed feelings that neither of them had ever concerned themselves with before. It's kind of sweet when you think about it like that.

This chapter just feels so much heartbreaking in its beauty.

Did you notice Takahashi's use of images and onomatopeias? The way we can hear that "BOMP" of Kagura's heart as she sees Sesshomaru? To think that the very first thing she's felt through that so much wanted heart of hers just after got it was pain, and pain alone, physically and emotionally, and yet now she finally is able to feel something good, like a tiny light within warming her.

Naraku once again meant to prove his point that the lives of the weakest are meaningless. At least this time he could not win.

I would write pages upon pages about this chapter alone, maybe some day.

[x3rrorx]

Just wanted to say, I’m sure a majority of us in the fandom side with you. We just don’t really comment much about drama on social media. From the looks of it, many of us are so fed up with these crazy, toxic, and manipulative fans. 

They’re trying so hard to make you or others who do not side with them look like the villain with their vindictive lies they try to spew in their delusional small echo chamber. Their ignorant lies of shit wreaks and no matter how much they try to cover it, they can’t get rid of the smell of shit with more full of shit coming out of their mouth. 

They need to stop playing victim because they’ve made their bed, now they need to lie in it. They’ve dug themselves in a bigger hole and grasping at straws to get themselves out of it. It’s not hard to own up to your wrongdoings and grow from it. We are all adults here, but these people are doing the complete opposite. They are immature and this parasocial behavior they have is getting out of hand. No one deserves to get cancelled or harassed, and yet they are doing that to others.. the very thing they are crying wolf about that they don’t like being done to them, even though they are the ones lying and creating the drama in the first place. It’s very hypocritical. 

It’s sad bc the band is growing rapidly, and they deserve to enjoy all the success they worked so hard to achieve. This tour especially signifies a big milestone for the band and should be a time of celebration/excitement for both the band and fans to come together on this journey of their success. 

For these “fans” to let their inflated egos think that they are the main reason for Bad Omens success, believing they deserve to be entitled to more, and that the guys have to bow down to their beck and call in order to get their “super fan support” to “pay their bills” is absolutely mind bottling and crossing boundaries. 

Bad Omens music is already a massive gift in itself that the band is willing to share with us to get through tough times. 

I hope the genuine fans who support the band and actually here for the music will still be there for the band despite the very few who are the loudest, toxic, manipulative, and obnoxiously immature. The band’s music has helped me get through a tough time in my life, and that’s what I try hard to remember of why I still want to be around to support the band even if these toxic fans make me not want to go to a concert. I’d still be willing to give it a try and hope it’ll be a good, safe, and fun experience at a concert. 

These few bad apple fans are fickle and hopefully they’ll stop and just enjoy the music without creating drama, or leave the fandom if they can’t be civil. 

Noah’s personal life is his personal life. People can make mistakes, learn, and grow. For his ex-fling to try and crucify Noah now at the height of his career shows she does not genuinely care for him and want the best for him. If she really is trying to “move on,” she is not doing a good job of showing that intention. For her to brag about her personal business out there and answer fans with explicit detailed answers shows she wants people to know and frankly does not want to “move on” because she wants revenge by making fans think of Noah differently in a bad light to not support him. 

Again, there’s always two sides to the story and if ex-fling thinks a majority of the fandom who genuinely support Bad Omens for their music is going to believe everything an ex fling and her minions enabling her vindictive agenda says, is quite immature for her to think. 

I’m wishing Bad Omens the absolute best. The journey of success will have some unfortunate bumps along the road as they get bigger, but I hope the guys know it’s only going to go up from here. Bad Omens music speaks for them and their hard work to help others with the challenges in our life, and that their music makes it a better world for many of us. 

And sending good vibes for all the genuine fans who are old and new on this journey too. We have more in common than we think, and that common bond is stronger than the discourse a few try to create ✌️ 

.

[zukuist]

in the moment [hcs]

“they are desperate for help when admirers swarm them, and they choose to seek for your assistance”

fandom/s : 僕のヘロアカデミア // boku no hero academia (bnha)

includes: h. shinsō, k. bakugō, i. midoriya

your name is shortened to y/n, last name is shortened to l/n gender neutral, use of the pretend lover trope, they’re actually pining.

further note: yes i’ve been gone for more than a week, and yes it’s because of school. i promise i’ll be posting more!!

REQUESTS ;; OPEN !!

© IZUKULIE 2021, HORIKOSHI KOHEI OWNS BNHA, DO NOT STEAL ❕

—

shinsō hitoshi

finds it super annoying

and this is coming from him, someone that’s not easy to irritate

he’s conscious and aware that people find him attractive (which for some reason, he still questions why)

eventually, admirers are bound to appear like it or not, but they’re not this insistent as this girl, nope.

shinsō has never experienced something like this, in his entire life.

noriko was a familiar face, but not in the best way for shinsō hitoshi.

she used to be one of those girls that’d band wagon with her opinions. whenever people were hostile towards him

she would be hostile too

but as soon as everyone started finding him attractive, she’d change too.

and it’s.. a mess. what more when he himself is pining on someone that’s not noriko

let alone, a student from class 1-A?

and it’s not like he could brainwash her into leaving him alone

as soon as she would be released by his quirk, she’d tell everyone what he did. therefore, leaving that out of the many solutions

and now he’s backed up into a corner, with her chasing him all across the hallways.

he can only hope for a solution.

— scene —

“this is ridiculous..” taking another turn in the hallway, shinsō mutters to himself quietly, the sleep deprived student can still hear her shrill voice

and by ‘her’, he’s referring to the admirer that has been tailing him down ever since the day had started.

“there are times like this where i wished i didn’t care about looking villainous” is what he’s really thinking. damn quirk stereotypes, and curse him for not having a quirk like iida tenya

“what.. are you doing?” was he lucky, or unlucky? it just so happened to be that he bumped into y/n l/n, out of all people

“i’m in a bit of a situation,” his palm rests against his nape, and he has to hope that you get the message, when noriko’s nearly deafening voice cuts through the air

“you’re quite popular with the ladies, huh?” you joke, and shinsō would’ve laughed if he wasn’t being trailed down.

“as much as i—”

“there you are !” noriko exclaims, slightly out of breath from the insistent chase, “you still haven’t answered !”

“i have, and i said no.” he makes his intentions concrete, compared to earlier (which was a mistake) when he rejected her in the nicest way he could’ve done so, but it wasn’t enough to make her quit.

“well earlier, you’ve said you appreciated it !” the whine pains both of your ears, and you contemplate if you should just grab his hand, and make a run for it.

but, she’d just chase you down again. so maybe not.

“yes, but i also said i can’t accept your feelings.” in instinct, he backs up so he could stand next to you, and he looks at you with his own style of desperation, which was obviously different than noriko’s desperation.

“i happen to be taken.” shinsō claims, hooking his hand along yours. which might’ve been done because he’s desperate, but could’ve been done because he wanted to

getting the motive, you lock away your shock, and play along, accepting his touch.

“i don’t believe you.” noriko blurts, “you two look like best friends more than anything. i’m not stupid !”

you didn’t think it would have to resort to this.

with not much of a thought, you grabbed shinsō by the collar, and smashed your lips together. his lips are warmer than you’ve anticipated, the distinct taste of coffee makes you lean into him further. while at first taken aback, shinsō decides to accept the act by pushing you even closer to him

you let go, deciding it was enough, and when you stare back at noriko, tears dotting at her waterline, and she sputters in humiliation and rejection.

“i never liked you anyway !” she uses as a defense, before storming off. the both of you feel a sense of relief when her figure turns at the end of the hallway

“sorry for kissing you like that. it was kind of in the moment,”

shinsō chuckles, “didn’t expect our first kiss to be like that.”

“well, there are more opportunities to come for you, you’re quite popular.” you tease, and shinsō flicks your forehead in retaliation. in return, you hiss at the sudden sting of pain.

“we’ll have more opportunities when i take you out for lunch on saturday.” he pats you on the shoulder, before he presses a quick real kiss on your cheekbone.

bakugō katsuki

also finds it super annoying. actually, he might as well just fight them and move on.

bakugō knows it well that he’s.. well-known, for all the right and wrong reasons

but what he doesn’t know is that he’s also known for his good looks, rough and boyish in nature.

so eventually, there’ll be that one brave and fearless soul that’ll take one for the team. or even two, or three.

he hates it. doesn’t his aura and demeanor alone scare off all of the suitors?

since when were they super persistent, smh.

it didn’t help that he was trying to drown and suffocate his feelings down the pipeline.

because curse bakugō katsuki for having normal, teenage feelings. he had other important things in life, right?

but he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever confess to him like that

(not that it would happen any time soon. you were too busy being a tough training partner)

but everything aside, he wishes that people would just take the hint already.

because ignoring doesn’t help all the time.

the girl named fumiko would be a dreadful sight he’d be constantly reminded of.

from his shoe locker being flooded with love letters that speak nothing to him, and to the obnoxious commentary on his looks

he’d think that they were just harassing him to get a reaction, but bakugō katsuki will remain unbothered!

but he spoke too soon, because he was approached directly right after his late training session.

—scene—

bakugō hates it

he hates extras, he hates being outshined, and he hates distractions. what more was there to dislike in the world? everything clearly.

he can handle things properly, and with that tough demeanor of his, and he definitely doesn’t need a quick and easy solution, from the girl that’s glued to his side.

he told himself that a persistent extra is nothing, he can just simply ignore them and look at them, like how he always looks at useless pebbles, and they’d go away. but clearly not this girl

“get off, you fucking extra” he pushes her off, grabbing his water bottle and immediately storming off, but it doesn’t convince fumiko (he learned her name unfortuantely) to finally lay off.

“c’mon katsuki! this would’ve all been over if you just went out with me!”

bakugō can’t hide the cringe on his face, hearing his first name, ugh. he doesn’t know how she found out about his late training sessions, considering that she wasn’t in his class or class 1-b

he doubts that he’d run into anyone at this hour, they’d be all in the common room, and he did say that he wanted all of them to ‘fuck off’. but luck does work in mysterious ways.

“..what’re you doing here?” he questions, clearly surprised by your presence, and his frustration would’ve disappeared at that exact mom“dinner’s almost ready. actually, why do you look so.. alarmed? is there a villain?—”

his palms are starting to sweat, and it’s not because of his training, or because of the girl that won’t leave him alone. “no! fuck no. okay, there’s just some shitty extra that’s been following me around like some obsessed freak.”

you decide to be smug, “i knew there was going to be a brave soul out there, ready to sacrifice themselves.” you rest your hand on your left side, like it was heart warming, but the blond is not amused with your gesture.

“right, right!” you hold your hands up, surrendering. “okay, what do you want me to do?”

“just don’t say a fucking thing.” you can hear foot steps get closer and closer to the both of you, and in a hurry, he pushes you closer to him, the smell of caramel evading your senses.

before you could even say a word, he kisses you. it’s rough, and it makes you feel warm, and it’s definitely not because of his quirk, or because of the large, warm palms that rest against your sides.

you get a grip on him, holding onto his shoulder when you feel your knees buck because of the butterflies in your stomach, and it seems to get worse when bakugō holds you even tighter

“okay geez, i get it. you’re taken!” you can hear the girl exclaim in humiliation and disgust, “ugh, a guy like you wouldn’t be able to handle me anyway.”

and when she finally scurries away, the both of you break the kisses, the wind out of you being knocked out cold from his sudden act of ‘romance’

“i sorta understand the hype now.” you grin, your lips still tingle from the kiss, and you’re convinced that you want more, despite the kiss being out of spite, and for fumiko to back off.

“shut up.” you would’ve laughed at him if it was any other day, but for now, you’re left silent. your heart flutters once more, when his lips press against your cheekbone briefly.

“c’mon, idiot. we’re gonna miss dinner.”

midoriya izuku

he’s so alarmed, and honestly very scared

he wasn’t popular, or well known to begin with, and people only started treating him like he was a real person in highschool

he’s just so used to being looked at like a background character, or a npc in a video game.

so the sudden swarm of suitors, and people that want to date him shocked him to the core.

he was never treated like this in middle school, or elementary!

it flatters him, and he’s glad that people actually like him. but.. he’d never actually think about being with either of them

because they’re not you, obviously. but wait, what’s so different about you exactly?

well.. you’ve treated him with kindness, even when he looked like this.. really awkward kid that sat at the back of the classroom.

so yeah, he’d never think about accepting anyone else’s confessions, as long as they’re not you

but still, midoriya has treated all of his admirers with kindness, despite not wanting to be with any of them

knowing how it feels to be humiliated, he wouldn’t want to do that on any of them

but.. this one particular girl was one he’d never truly be comfortable with, as much as he’d like to fake it.

rieko was.. something. probably the most persistent one out of all of them.

he would’ve appreciated it, if it weren’t for the fact that she was super obnoxious to other people.

and most importantly, he didn’t understand what she’d get out of it, and it wrecked his nerves!

— scene —

standing next to you, all lined up for lunch, midoriya shifts uncomfortably as he tries his best to ignore the loud and obvious commentary that’s being directed to him.

at first, it was flattering. but now? he just wishes things would go back to the times where people had no interest in him, whatsoever.

he knows what rieko really like him for, and it’s honestly disheartening. the girl would compliment him on things like his looks, and even his new moves!

but as soon as he elaborated on how he did it, the interest would fade away from her eyes

not that it did matter though. midoriya didn’t really have any feelings for any of the people that’ve approached him, wanting to date him. he’s been kind, and they’ve been kind in return, getting the hint and backing off.

the freckled boy was flattered but, not interested

but clearly, rieko didn’t get the message, despite the way midoriya would back away uncomfortably. how he’d immediately excuse himself whenever he’d see the girl.

just.. all signs of disinterest

“go! just ask him already!” he can hear her friends encourage her, but he’s not very enthusiastic to know what they’re cheering her on for

“he won’t be able to resist! just walk right in and do it, you guys will be an attractive couple anyway!”

midoriya’s palms are shaky, and he tries his best to calm his nerves down by clenching his fists. this doesn’t go un-noticed by you.

“you okay, midoriya?” you ask, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, and the green haired boy hopes that his cheeks aren’t turning red.

the both of you guys are awfully close! not that he’s complaining, it’s just that—

“is it about them?” you ask in a nearly quiet tone, and midoriya’s aware that you’re talking about them.

“uhm..” midoriya tries to formulate a proper answer, not wanting to sound as bothered as he actually is. how would he be able to explain this? “don’t worry about it,” midoriya reassures, “it’s just—”

“do you think that he’s dating that person? you know, the one beside them?” he hears that the topic of the conversation has shifted, and the group of girls are referring to you.

midoriya wasn’t planning on telling anyone about the dilemma. let alone his crush. it was something he was going to ignore, until the mess calmed down.

but now? you’re roped into it, and his nerves didn’t calm down at all.

“izuku dating them? no, it can’t be. he’s too good for them!”

“that’s the spirit, rieko. you should just go like.. now!”

to him, it’s the other way around. you’re too good for him, and you’re out of his league. so, this comment upsets him to all ends.

he’s pondering on what he should do, and before he could take you out of the line to get food at some other place, he feels something warm enlace his hand.

he slightly shivers when he realizes that it’s your hand he’s holding, cheeks flushed with crimson.

your eyes are ahead, a lot more composed than he is clearly, but if he looked hard enough, he could sense the nervousness in your hold.

“you wanna leave the line, izu?” his first name sounds different when you say it, and he thinks to himself that he prefers it a lot more when it comes from you

“y-yes.” and you smile, pressing your lips against his cheek quickly, before tugging his hand and pulling him out of the line, walking away from the group.

it’s a miracle that he didn’t drop onto the cafeteria’s floors.

you can feel his anxiety subsiding. despite his flushed cheeks remaining, he looks better than he did a few seconds ago, and you’re glad.

deciding the both of you were at a safe distance, you peek over your shoulder. you can see the absolute defeat on rieko’s face, and the scowl on her friends’ faces as they attempted to comfort their heartbroken friend.

“thank you, y/n.”

“no, it’s nothing, really. anyhow, what do you plan on eating for lunch?”

[laequiem]

Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 6

Fandom: The Folk of the Air

Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar

Rating: explicit

Word count: 2,658

fanfiction masterlist • ao3

Chapter 5 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost

“Unless…” My lips are on her neck and her pulse flutters wildly under my lips. I nip at the soft skin and she gasps. “U-unless?” she repeats. I wrap my hand around her wrist, pulling it away from her sex. “Unless you want me to help.”

Chapter 6. feel together

Cardan POV

I fall asleep long after Jude, with her curves cradling me and her hair tickling my face.

I sleep surprisingly well, given the circumstances. Jude tosses and turns the whole night, as if she cannot prevent herself from fighting even in sleep.

When I wake up, the sky has barely started to lighten. The time at which I would normally go to sleep, back in Elfhame. I blink a few times, my eyelids heavy. My body begs me to go back to sleep and ignore the bite of cold air against my neck.

I debate it for a few seconds until I feel Jude’s arm move. Before I think it through, I rub her cold flesh, smoothing the goosebumps on her arm.

It’s only when she goes completely still that I notice she was also writhing against me. No, not just me. My morning glory.

Only when her breath stops abruptly do I notice how quick it was before. It was not really noticeable—she could have been having a nightmare. There is no mistaking the smell of arousal, however, thick even through the smell of iron and pollution attacking my nose with every breath.

Jude starts breathing again, shakily, as if she is trying to control her breathing but has trouble doing so. Then, I hear her swallow.

I wait for her to say something.

She doesn’t.

I rub my hand up her arm again, then move her hair away from my face.

“Should I pretend to be asleep so you can finish?” I whisper in her ear. When she does not answer, I let my hand roam down her arm, under the waistband of her—my—skirt. “Unless…”

My lips are on her neck and her pulse flutters wildly under my lips. I nip at the soft skin and she gasps.

“U-unless?” she repeats.

I wrap my hand around her wrist, pulling it away from her sex.

“Unless you want me to help,” I finish, my hand settling at the base of her stomach. “I’ll make you come harder than you can on your own.”

She does not answer right away, so I wait. I let my fingers tickle down the downy hair on her stomach until I reach soft curls on her abdomen. My cock aches, trapped awkwardly under my own waistband, the head peeking out slightly above it.

“Make yourself useful,” she says sharply.

I chuckle against her neck, “Yes, my naughty villain.”

My fingers dip lower, over the soft expand of her mons to the swollen lips further down. The first touch of my fingers to her clitoris has her jerking back against me, grinding that delicious ass of hers on my throbbing cock.

If this is what my life is now, I will welcome it. I will gladly serve her with my body.

I kiss and nibble at her neck, wanting to taste more, to taste all of her. My index dips lower as my thumb takes its place rubbing tight circles on her clit. My index teases at her entrance and—

“Cardan, wait—”, she says and I lift my hand away from her. “I’m… on my period.”

Oh.

“So?” I ask, eager to go back to my work.

“So,” she says, “you’ll have blood on your fingers.”

I snort and lower my hand to her again, dipping the pad of my finger ever so slightly in her.

“Is that all? I don’t mind.”

She gasps as my index finger enters her to the first knuckle and my teeth find her neck in a light bite.

“You’re repulsive”

“Mmh,” my middle finger joins the index, stretching her slowly, “I suppose you’re right.”

My other hand reaches under her shirt to toy at a nipple. It pebbles at the first touch. I can’t help it—I grind my pelvis against her ass once. I groan at the curve of it, just so perfectly molded to my cock. I twist her nipple as I drive my fingers all the way into her and she cries out, in pain and pleasure both.

She is already so close, I can feel it. She grinds against my hand as I rub tight circles around her nub, my fingers angling to reach the spot that made her squirm the other day.

My other hand toys with her nipple and I wish I could see it, lick it, bite it, mark it. I wish I could show her what I can do without even touching her under her navel.

Still, I do with what I am offered. This is enough.

“Don’t stop,” she moans, her pleading voice even more beautiful than I imagined it, “don’t stop, don’t stop.”

I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to. I lick up her throat and kiss the soft skin under her ear. Her strange, mortal ear. I trace the tip of my nose up the roundness of it.

Her tight sex contracts around my fingers and I give her everything I have. I increase the pressure of my thumb, keep my fingers in a steady rhythm and latch my mouth against her throat, sucking hard on the skin. In the throes of her pleasure, she bucks her hips. I lower my other hand to steady her, pinning her hips against mine.

I stroke her as she cries and curses, as her whole body convulses with the force of her orgasm.

Cursed stars, I wish I could see her face as she comes, but I’ll take whatever she gives me. Even if she only ever wants to fuck in the dark or from behind to avoid seeing who she is mingling with. It’s enough. It has to be.

I keep stroking her through her orgasm, slowing down until my thumb all but flutters over her sensitive bud.

For a moment, there is nothing but our panting and the distant sounds of the city. Then, Jude presses her ass against me and I hiss.

“What about you?” she asks.

I trace small circles on her stomach with my clean hand.

“What about me?” I ask back.

She sighs. “Well, you made me come. Surely you want something in return.”

The words I do not die in my throat. That would be a lie.

“I do not expect you to reciprocate,” I tell her instead.

Jude shifts in my arms, turning to face me.

“Your kind does not give freely.” Her eyes narrow as she looks at me. “You want something.”

“Oh, Jude,” I say, grinning. “I got to make you come. You owe me no debt.”

——

Our apartment visits were a total waste of time.

Out of the five we visit, one of them turns us down for not having whatever a ‘credit score’ is, three of them refuse to rent by the month, and the fifth was taken by the couple visiting before us.

Between two visits, Jude enters something she calls a pharmacy to buy ‘hygiene products’ and painkillers.

After a day of walking and carrying our large backpack around, I’m exhausted. So when Jude suggests we settle in a park for the night, I happily accept.

Mortals have this strange obsession with grass, I realize as we walk the hiking paths in search of a quiet place to hide and sleep. Short strands of the same type of grass cover every surface except what is paved, no weeds or flowers except where they are purposefully planted. It could not look any less like Elfhame.

After a few minutes of walking, Jude leads us away from the path. We trample through the short, even grass for a a dozen meters until we find a hexagonal structure overlooking a frozen lake. It looks like a hut, except it has no walls—only white wooden pillars and a shingled roof.

“We’ll sleep under the gazebo,” she says, entering the structure—the gazebo.

Jude sits on the only furniture inside, a simple bench facing out towards the lake. She is hunched forwards, her elbows resting on the fence. I join her on the bench, dropping our bag next to it.

I follow her gaze. She is staring at the sky like we’re at one of our astrology lessons.

“We can’t see the stars with all the city lights,” I say to break the silence.

Jude lets out a small hum. “Maybe it’s better that way.”

“How so?” I ask her.

“We don’t have to worry about looking at the stars alone,” she replies softly, longing dripping off every word.

There is nobody else I would rather look at the stars with, but I don’t tell her that.

She would laugh at me.

“Alone?” I turn to her, faking offense, “I’m right here.”

But Jude doesn’t laugh, doesn’t roll her eyes. She simply sighs.

“Humans think stargazing is romantic,” she says distantly. As if she isn’t one of them. “Don’t you wish you could share this with Nicasia?”

I snort. “No.”

“What about the girl you were with when I… interrupted?”

My blood rushes south at the reminder of that night, of what I ended up doing—not with Lilywood, but with Jude.

“A distraction,” I reply carefully.

“From what?”

I don’t answer.

I can’t answer. Not without telling the truth, and there’s no way I’m doing that. I look back at the sky.

“I guess I see the appeal,” I say instead. “Too bad you killed your lover.”

Her head snaps towards me, confusion written all over those big brown eyes.

“I… what?” Jude looks appalled I would even suggest such a thing.

She is a better actress than I thought.

I try to look casual. I lean on my elbow, pillowing my head against a closed fist.

“Locke. You killed him, didn’t you?” I ask nonchalantly. “It makes sense, since the body is in your room.”

“What are you—” Jude starts, but I raise a hand to silence her.

“I’m not upset,” I tell her quickly. Because I’m not. I have come to terms with the fact that I am following a murderer around. “I knew it would get bad. When you realized what he was doing, I mean. I didn’t think you would kill him, but I suppose I should have expected it.”

Jude sits straight up, crossing her legs on the bench.

“I didn’t—” she stops herself to shake her head, as if to clear her thoughts.“ What do you mean, ‘what he was doing’?”

I lean back, propping my feet up on the fence. She didn’t know any of this. Why did she kill him, then? Did he… actually try something on her? I take a deep breath, trying to weather the storm brewing inside me.

“Using you,” I tell her. I try to sound distanced, but it sounds cold more than bored.

“Using me?” It’s her turn to snort. “Did you ask him to charm me, Cardan?”

“No.”

“Let me guess, then,” she spits, “I’m so disgusting, there is no way one of you could genuinely like me?”

I frown at the stars, as if it would help me see through the city glow to the stars beyond. Perhaps if I squint hard enough, I could see them and they would tell me what to say. Spell the truth for her to see without having to lay my heart out for her to crush.

I do not know for sure what Locke’s intentions with her were. I know he was seeing both twins at the same time and that he did it in part to hurt Nicasia—and to hurt me. Like somehow it would reflect badly on me if he stole Nicasia from me and almost immediately threw her away for two mortal playthings.

That Locke had not paraded Jude in front of me like some trophy tells me that he did not know the whole truth.

He did not know how completely obsessed with her I am.

“He was also with Taryn,” I finally tell her. “I thought… you might have found out.”

When Jude does not answer, I turn to her again. She is staring straight ahead past the lake, her face emotionless. It’s so unlike her, this nothingness. Before I even realize what I am doing, I reach out and trace the soft curve of her ear with one finger.

She flinches and I immediately pull away.

Just because she lets you get her off does not mean she wants you to touch her, I remind myself.

Jude rubs the heels of her palms against her eyes and the Jude I am used to is back, all furious ambition and stubborn defiance.

“I should have known. I should have known,” she says angrily, “he’s your friend, after all. I almost thought…”

She does not finish her thought, but I grasp the meaning nonetheless. I’m awful. Valerian is horrible. Nicasia is haughty. Locke, however, excels at hiding his games. He sticks out from our group, but he is no less wicked. She thought he was the exception.

“I didn’t kill him,” she admits. “I… It was Valerian I killed.”

Oh.

I should not trust her so easily, she is a liar, after all. Yet, it makes sense. I warned Valerian. I told him to stop harassing her, but he simply laughed at my face. I would never celebrate a death, even his—but it’s the natural conclusion to his sadism.

“He had it coming,” I say.

Jude says nothing. She brings her legs on the bench, laying on her side and pillowing her head against her folded arms. Her legs are folded in an effort to keep her feet away from me.

I take the blanket out of the bag and prop the bag behind my head to use as a pillow.

“Make some space,” I demand.

I have half a thought to bargain the blanket against some space, but I am not convinced she wouldn’t let herself freeze to death just to spite me.

She moves enough for me to stretch out my legs, though the bench is too short and my knees stay bent.

As I try to figure out how to put the blanket to cover us both, Jude shifts, laying herself atop me with her head on my chest.

After a few minutes of my heart beating loud enough to wake hibernating wildlife, Jude whispers, “Cardan?”

Surely, she hears the way my heart stops when I hear my name coming from her mouth. Surely, she will mock me.

“Of all the times to tell me, why now?” she asks instead, “Why are you helping me?”

Why now?

Why her?

I have spent many a night asking myself those same questions.

Jude hates me. She hates me so much that she fights back. That alone is more than I can say about anyone else. My parents and siblings ignore me, my friends barely tolerate me, but Jude sees me as something worth fighting against.

She sees me. Even when she is focused on something, I know she notices.

“Who would I bother if you weren’t there?” I tease, twisting a lock of her hair around my finger and pulling on it.

“You never had any trouble finding someone to torture,” she responds.

And while she might be right, nobody else matters. I can do whatever I want to all Gentry. Taryn does not fight back. I can tumble with anyone I want. I can push someone in toad dung and take them to bed the same day.

But Jude has never forgotten anything I have done to her. I doubt she ever will.

“You’re the most stubborn of them all,” I tell her with a smirk, “it would be a shame for the world to lose you.”

I don’t want to lose you, I don’t say.

Jude already has too much power over me, I refuse to give her more.

So I lay the blanket over us, making sure it covers her shoulders, and whisper, “Good night, my mulish murderer.”

---

tag list @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @lizziebxnnet @hazelsheartsworn @jurdannet

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Under My Umbrella

Summary: Mr Pigeon 72 and how it should have ended if fandom had a saying in it. An alternate ending to the Adrinette final scene. Contains spoilers and fluff, you have been warned.

For @floweryotter, a gift in my celebratory giveaway.

********

Adrien’s day had started bad and it only got worse from there. So far the only peaceful moment was when he got turned into a pigeon. Blissful time, when he was unaware not only of himself, but also of allergies, extracurriculars and modelling. When he was free from ridiculous advertising ideas. He almost felt sorry, when the Miraculous Cure swept over his bird form, turning him back to his regular, slightly underdressed self. 

Rain drummed heavily on the swimming pool’s roof, while he changed into his clothes and gathered the now half-empty duffel bag. Plagg claimed he needed the extra load for all his heroic deeds of the day. Camembert was possibly the only thing in the universe that got him to shut up about it. 

Adrien shuddered and braced himself for the rest of his afternoon, which he suspected wouldn’t be any different than his morning. He stepped outside and promptly forgot about everything that was waiting for him later.

Because there, in the middle of the rain, stood his good friend Marinette under a familiar umbrella. Strange warmth bloomed in his chest.

‘Wow,’ he drew a breath full of humidity and some subtle, yet familiar smell, he couldn’t quite identify, ‘you’ve kept it all this time!’ 

A thunder rolled over the street. Marinette froze. For a second Adrien was afraid that maybe there’d been another akuma attack and his friend had fallen victim to an unknown villain.

‘Marinette?’ He called hesitantly.

She turned, smiling. The signature word salad spilled from her lips, but Adrien was used to it by now. He actually found it quite endearing. Politely, he waited for her to stumble her way through anything she had to say, until she arrived at a comprehensible sentence.

‘Now I can give it back to you!’ she finally said, offering the umbrella to him.

Both the gesture and the sentiment somehow made her even more adorable.

‘You’ll need it to get home,’ Adrien replied. At that his car pulled over and an idea came to him. ‘Or maybe… we can give you a lift?’ he asked hopefully. 

Marinette smiled at him and nodded. Did she… just agree? Just like that? Without another word stumble or an excuse to leave? He had no idea why, but her calm approval made him inexplicably happy. 

She moved to his side and linked their arms together, shielding him with the umbrella. The brush of her skin sent goosebumps all over his forearm. His heartbeat quickened.

Whoosh! The canopy closed over them, squishing them even closer together. The laughter they shared at that was delicious, like a secret, a reference only the two of them would get out of the entire world.

Adrien opened the umbrella, smiling at his friend.

‘Hmmm, since we already have a good umbrella, maybe we could put it to better use,’ she said. ‘Maybe we could take a walk home? What do you think?’

He liked having her so near and he wouldn’t mind for it to last longer. Especially when she seemed so comfortable and open. He realized how much he missed spending time with her. He was never bored with Marinette.

‘I… ‘ he started, when sudden movement caught his eye. His bodyguard opened the car door, urging him to go inside. Adrien’s smile faded. ‘My Chinese class,’ he remembered. ‘You know, how my dad is. I need to be there.’ He sighed. ‘But I’ll see you at school!’ He added, not to end on such a depressing note.

‘Of course. Till tomorrow, Adrien,’ Marinette smiled reassuringly and he knew she understood. 

In two leaps he was at the car door, but he wanted to catch one last look of her before getting inside, so he turned. 

Thump.

The back of his head hit the side of the car. 

‘Ouch,’ he winced.

Marinette chuckled and he was happy to chuckle with her. His lips stretched into a wide smile. Her laughter already soothed the pain in his skull. He was about to close the door when she called after him.

‘Adrien, wait!’ 

He looked at her questioningly.

Marinette bit her lip. ‘How far is it to your lessons?’ She asked. ‘Maybe we can walk there?’

Oh sweet Plagg. Yes, please. 

Adrien turned his best pleading eyes to the Gorilla. ‘See you after Chinese lessons?’ he mewled.

His bodyguard rolled his eyes, but he nodded with a grunt and turned to the steering wheel.

‘Thank you,’ the boy whispered as he basically floated outside, lifted by the joyous anticipation.

‘Mademoiselle?’ he offered Marinette an elbow in invitation.

‘Monsieur,’ she stepped next to him, linking her hand through his arm. ‘Shall we?’

And then they set into one of the most exciting walks of Adrien’s life. Some people would say it was a mundane stroll in murky weather, but it was far from it.

Almost instantly the two of them hit a comfortable rhythm, allowing them to walk without bumping into each other. Adrien offered to carry the umbrella for them, so that Marinette could rest her hand, as it snuggly lay in the crook of his arm. 

They talked about everything and nothing, shared gossip about the upcoming patch for the Ultra Mecha Strike II they were excited about. Marinette kept Adrien from getting cold. Just her presence warmed him inside. In return he kept her from stomping into puddles and getting her feet all wet.

At one particularly large puddle, edging on a street lake, Adrien just lifted her off the ground and leaped over the water, with his friend easily tucked in his arms, princess style. The move felt so familiar, so right, it made him stumble in his step. But Marinette didn’t notice, she chuckled lightly under her breath. Adrien was stricken by the trust she had in him. The feeling filled him with delight and stayed with him, even when he deposited the girl safe and dry on the other side of the great water.

It all ended too soon. Suddenly Adrien wished his Chinese tutor lived much, much further from the pool, alas their time was up. Marinette bid him goodbye. Her smile, her rosy cheeks and bright eyes were the best send off he could imagine. 

After that the afternoon went in a blur. Evening came and brought more rain with it. Adrien sat at his huge windows, a wide grin on his face, while he gazed outside, reminiscing upon the unexpectedly pleasant afternoon walk he had. For a second he even considered transforming and running over the roofs to the bakery to see Marinette again. The thought sobbered him up. Ladybug would have his hide, if he did it.

And then he froze, hit with yet another realization. He hadn’t thought of Ladybug even one time in the entire afternoon. He gasped. Did it even mean something?

But he never learned it, because he decided to text Marinette the funniest meme he saw earlier. He didn’t hear Plagg’s snicker from the duffel bag and even if he had, he wouldn’t know the meaning of it either.

[lexxiie]

Hi! I just found your blog and I was wondering if you can do a cassian lee headcanons about how the reader and him met each other?

Have a good day/night😊

Have a great night as well!!🤍

Not greedy at all! Keep the requests coming!

Pairing: Cassian Lee x reader

Fandom: Villain To Kill

Warnings: Spoilers of chapter 30-something.

How You Met

Guys I have literally a 100 different scenarios in my head, it's so hard to pick just one.

But i'll have to.

Cassian heard of some villain causing toruble near the vilzone.

As the boss, he had to go and tell that guy to fuck off.

And he did.

Of course, like after every fight, Cassian was a bit beaten.

Terribly beaten according to Moros.

However, Cassian doesn't care since he has a healing ability, obviously.

But the girl who then sees him walking infront of her apartment complex with blood on his shirt and all over his face doesn't know that.

You ran to him to ask him what happened, offering him help.

Cassian was just going to dismiss you until you threatened told him that you were calling an ambulance.

He couldn't go to a hospital, everyone would know about his fast healing, hence, about him being a villain.

So he analyzed his options.

He could risk it at the hospital, with thousands of peope, or he could risk it with you.

So he accepted your offer of tending to his wounds.

You guided him inside your apartment and grabbed your first aid kit.

Surprise, surprise, when you lifted his shirt, the wound has merely a scratch.

You turned to look at his face, and all the wounds were gone! There was only blood left.

What was going on...?

You looked at him, and he looked at you, and you looked at him, and he smiled at you with the weirdest combination of guiltiness and awkwardness ever.

He had to confess, hoping you would understand.

He sincerely thought you wouldn't, that he would have to run away from your house before the psykers arrived.

But you did understand.

"If you were that bad, you would have already killed me... right?"

And then you still cleaned the blood left on his body?? Girl, who are you??

He does know who you are. You are the most interesting person he's ever known.

From that day on, he kept hanging around your apartment; claiming that he was just passing by whenever you caught him.

Those "casual" encounters led to you two hanging out together.

And then one thing led to another.

And suddenly, you weren't just friends anymore.

If he's being honest with himself, he fell for you since the very first day.

You were pressing the wet towell so slowly, so gently against his face.

No one had ever showed such gentleness to him. It was almost as if you feared that he was going to break.

And your face was so close to his... He could smell your perfume, and your lips looked so lonely... He was entranced. Entranced with you.

How could someone show such kindness to a guy who was supposed to be feared according to society?

He didn't know, but he knew that you were doing so.

To this day, he's still entranced by you.

[lovelytarou]

just let me adore you

— in which dabi wanted to buy you clothes and see you in only the best cloths there is in the world, the only problem is how you see yourself and he will do anything to prove how much he adores you

pairing: dabi x female!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, suggestive

tags: hurt/comfort??, the reader's insecurities (nothing too detailed), negative thoughts, i advise not to read this if you don't want any of that

a/n: i'm so excited to post this that i just can't wait another day!!! also pls give feedback i spent all my love and time in this instead of schoolworks sksksk but really, i hope y'all like this and i'm sorry if i made dabi too soft in this, the fandom needs more soft dabi every once in a while. sorry if i'm putting my inner dabi fuckr in this fic 🤧

“what are you wearing?” dabi asked one night after you emerged from the shower.

you saw him lounging in your shared bedroom, waiting for you as he was scrolling on his phone when you arrived from work. you quickly excused yourself and took a shower with a promise of cuddling with him afterwards.

snaking your arms on his neck, you gave a peck on his cheek and grinned.

“it's one of my old shirts, why?” you frowned, looking down at your clothes.

dabi wrapped his arm on your waist, holding you closer to his body as you sit on his lap. his other hand reached up to your face and tucked your still damp hair behind your ear.

“it looks like shit,” he bluntly admitted while looking in your eyes fondly.

that earned an offended gasp from you as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip but to no avail. dabi may not look like it, but he sure is one muscular guy.

“well, i'm sorry if i don't have such expensive tastes when it comes to casual clothing!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. the action itself made dabi look down on your breasts and bit his lip.

if only you can see how he sees you right now.

“exactly. you only deserve to wear the finest silk,” his hand travels down your exposed thighs, slightly lifting up the oversized shirt in the process.

“the most exquisite lace that shows off your boobs and your delicious curves,” his voice dropped into a sultry tone, his wandering hands squeezing your sides making you smack him playfully on his chest.

“stop it!” you hid your face on his neck, his jaw resting on the top of your head.

“what? it's true.” he chuckles, kissing your hair.

he brought his index finger under your chin so you can meet his eyes. there is nothing but love and adoration swimming in those beautiful teal irises.

“i love seeing you in fancy clothes, but...” his warm breath that faintly smelled of smoke and mint that makes your head spin fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours in a gentle dance.

as if the world turned upside down, you're now on your back as dabi towered over you, “you're even gorgeous when naked,”

his lips sealed over yours again and again. that night, he threw your old shirt where it could not be seen anymore and you were more than thankful for it as you spent the entire night making love.

the next few days, dabi made it his mission to buy (read: steal) clothes for you. in the morning after hours of rearranging your guts, dabi basically threw away all of your clothes in the trash and made you wear his shirts. you almost wringed his neck because of that but you let it slide when he told you that he'd replace them with better ones.

back at the league of villains hideout, dabi eyed all of the people gathered around the room. shigaraki's currently holding a meeting for their next attack and here he is, imagining you in the most beautiful outfit he'd get for you.

his teal eyes landed on the back of himiko's blonde head.

heaving a heavy sigh, he kicked toga's seat.

“hey, nutjob” he called lowly, not wanting to get the others' attention.

she scoffed at the nickname before turning her body towards him.

“what is it, staples? do you need something?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, playing with her knife in boredom.

“yeah. you like...cute things, right?” dabi inwardly cringed at his choice of words. never ever in his life did he imagine he would say such things to someone and worst of all, he needed her help.

toga chuckled lightly at him, noticing the small blush on dabi's face.

“oh? what's this all of a sudden? are you taking a liking to me now?” toga's smirk widened upon seeing the latter's growing annoyance.

“in your dreams,” dabi grumbled, “i needed help with something.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, dabi closed his eyes and cursed at himself. after this conversation, his colleague would definitely find something to tease him for. but then again, he's willing to look like a fool if it's for you.

after the boring meeting that lasted for approximately four hours, dabi and toga exited the hideout to raid a few malls.

“i don't understand why you didn't just choose the clothes yourself?” toga hummed, examining a cute top with cat prints on it.

she placed it over her front and modeled it in the mirror before her, posing this way and that. from the corner of her eye, she sees dabi leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a bored look on his face.

“don't you think i wouldn't ask for your help if i can do that?” dabi rolled his eyes in exhaustion, this is taking too much time. the two of them have been in twenty shops already and raided five malls in only half a day.

toga poked her tongue at him and clutched the cute top along with the other clothing. she pushed them all into dabi's arms, making him drop most of it on the floor.

she suddenly stopped and gasped as they exited the store, the neon pink lights reflecting on her eyes as she squealed in delight.

without warning, toga dragged dabi into the lingerie store.

upon entering, the cashier immediately cowered under the counter as the two villains surveyed the place. the person was about to reach for the telephone when toga stabbed the glass counter near their hand.

“don't even think about it,” she grinned down at them menacingly.

dabi ignored them as he looked around. it's filled with many lingeries that he doesn't know which one to look at first. there is no doubt that anyone would love to see their lover dressed in those promiscuous outfits.

his thoughts immediately wandered over to you, dressed in black lace set, writhing under him and making pretty noises just for him.

before his lewd thoughts could wander, he called toga over and nodded his head at the item of clothing he's been eyeing.

“i want that one.”

the first thing you noticed upon coming home was that it's empty. the mugs that was left in the sink that morning was still where you last saw them, the unfolded laundry is still in the basket, and the television in the living room is off.

dabi must not be home yet.

you let a small frown form on your face. you had expected to come home to your beloved boyfriend and welcome you with open arms and kisses.

today wasn't the best of days, to say the least. the series of bad things after another drove you mad and all you wanted was to go home and be wrapped in your lover's hug as if the two of you are the only people in the world that exists.

taking your shoes off, you padded towards your shared bedroom and slowly took off your work clothes and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

rubbing your arms, you caught sight of yourself in the body length mirror at the corner.

your gaze lingered for a long while, eyeing every expanse of skin exposed. you chewed on your lip anxiously as you made your way to the mirror.

your mind was clouded with negative thoughts and jabs at yourself. this is the reason why you hated being alone, you are left with nothing but hate at yourself and there's nobody to pull you out of it. you are suffering by yourself and having to push through it.

slowly, you unwrapped your arms from your sides and stared at the body in front of you. staring from head to toe, listing each thing that you find a flaw, an insecurity, an imperfection.

what did dabi see in you?

you don't have the most attractive body that rivalled any pro-hero's, or a killer charisma, a beautiful face that could take anyone's breath away, your skin isn't as clear as the ones the models in tv and magazines have, you have a lot of scars from childhood and growing up, there are uneven skin color, a wound, and your hair isn't as pretty as other girls'.

so, why? why did dabi stayed? why did he, a handsome, powerful, strong, smart man, asked you to be his girlfriend when he could have anyone he wanted in the world that is much better than you?

tears streamed down your face as your body was wracked with sobs. slowly sliding down to the floor, you clutched your chest as you felt an excruciating agony. repeating over and over in your head why dabi doesn't love you.

through your tears and cry of pain, you didn't hear the door open and close. nor the sound of your boyfriend's voice calling to you or the door to the bedroom opening and the sound of numerous shopping bags falling to the ground as dabi takes hurried steps towards you, who is reduced to a ball of sadness on the floor.

“baby? what's wrong? why are you crying?” he didn't get too close to you at first, expecting you might not want any sort of contact at your moment of vulnerability and decided to ask you instead.

you're still trembling as small sobs leave your lips.

you gasped, shocked to hear that he's home as you quickly sat up and sloppily wiped your tears with your hands and arms.

“d-dabi! you're home!” you sniffled, doing your best to look alright although it's futile since he has already seen you crying your eyes out.

your boyfriend can only look at you with concern filling his eyes. he hovered his hand in midair between the two of you as he looked at your eyes intently. you answered him wordlessly by leaning towards his touch.

it evoked a sigh of relief from your lips as you felt his charred and normal skin, clutching his arm like your life depended on it. and maybe at that moment, it did.

he's relieved to know that he's not who you were upset about, but it didn't lessen his worry.

dabi leaned down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there as he brought your face close to his chest.

“tell me what's got my baby so upset,” he mumbled against the skin. hearing the deep rumble of his voice against his chest calmed you down a bit.

you closed your eyes as you exhaled, surrounding yourself with dabi. his scent, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating against your ear, his lulling voice pulling you out of your waning thoughts.

“it's...stupid,” you laughed breathily, shaking your head.

“nothing about you is stupid, angel.” he immediately rebutted, pinching your waist.

you hid your face in his chest, not wanting him to see you like this. vulnerable and weak.

“i-i was just having a bad day, and all i want was to come home to you and...” you paused, your thoughts suddenly coming back to you. you fought a sob that threatened to spill from your lips, biting it down.

“i don't understand what you see in me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the end.

he shushed you softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your lower back in circles.

never in his life had he seen you so down. you seemed like the type of person who always got their shit together. like nothing wrong ever happens in their life. he'll look at you and all he sees is this amazing woman who loves to smile and bring happiness in his miserable life.

he admits that he may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but damn it if he didn't even make you happy every second of every day of your life like you did in his.

seeing you so upset makes him want to go out there and find whatever that will make you smile again.

“i'm sorry i'm not home to comfort you, baby. but i'm here now, okay? i don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl.” he muttered, facing your head up to him as he pecked your tears away.

you softly giggled at the nickname.

“you wanna know what i saw in you?” he asked, and you nodded your head at him.

his lips fluttered over your forehead, giving you a kiss there, “you're the most amazing person i've ever met–” another kiss on your nose, “the most beautiful, sweet, caring–” a kiss on your eyelids, the apples of your cheeks, “you're so fucking hot and kind that i didn't know what i did in my fucked up life to deserve you.”

he cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and made you look into his eyes. there's still the same adoration and love in them, it made your heart swell with many emotions just for him. only he can make your heart beat wildly inside your chest.

not letting him say another word, you surged forward and crashed your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. a few tears escaped, but this time it's because of happiness and the overwhelming love he have for you.

you were both panting when you pulled away, grinning stupidly as your foreheads touch, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

“i love you, d'you know that?” you breathed out, pecking his lips once more.

“yeah, i know.” dabi smirked, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. your legs wrapped around his slim waist in return.

he threw the both of you on the bed, you on his lap as he stared up at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes.

“say it back!” you whined, pouting playfully at him.

he pecked your lips this time and tugged softly on your bottom lip, making you moan.

slowly, you felt him lower you down on the mattress as he placed open-mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck. the fire ignited inside your core as you gripped his biceps, the way his lips are doing things to you, you can't help but just lay there accept all he had to offer.

“mmm, i love you, too. but i wanted to show you how much instead,” he whispered lowly in your ear before biting at your sweet spot and creating a mark for everyone to see.

his lips traveled lower to where you needed him the most, gripping his hair as you sang beautiful songs for him.

“y/n! are you done, yet?” dabi asked for the umpteenth time that day as he waited for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

you both decided to go on a date and it's been two hours since you told him that you're ‘almost done’. he's been waiting patiently for you, knowing that you'd come out of that room and take his breath away. hell, you can wear the dirtiest rags and he'd still think you're the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

“just one sec!” you called out from inside.

he couldn't help but groan in annoyance, his patience wearing thin.

he glanced at the time on his phone.

how long are you gonna be in there for?

“babe, i swear if you don't come out of there after five minutes, i'll leave without y-”

he didn't get to finish his words as you came out of the bedroom wearing only the skimpiest, thinnest, and revealing lingerie that left nothing to imagination.

he found himself swallowing his words as his gaze hungrily drank your figure up and down, focusing on every detail, every skin exposed to his eyes.

you decided to tease him, wearing only the lingerie he had ‘bought’ you a few days ago. you were surprised when he did admit he had bought the clothes for you. when asked when he got the money from, he only said that he stole it from some ‘abusive bastard's credit card’.

you shyly standing there wearing a sexy outfit did nothing to his raging problem. within seconds, he stood in front of you, staring at you like you were some sort of goddess that graced the earth and he'd happily kiss the ground you walk on.

“did you...like it?” you hesitantly asked, looking up at him as you played with the ribbons of the lace hugging your body.

his pupils dilated, eyes darkening with want and he picked you up as you squealed in surprise, carrying you back to the bedroom.

“that's it, the date can wait another day.”

[symphonyofthewrite]

If These Walls Could Talk (Ch3) (with cover art!)

(AMAZING cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!!)

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary: “‘Alucard’, they called me. The opposite of you. Mother never liked that. Did you know that? She hated the idea that I might define myself by you. Even in opposition to you. She loved us both. Enough that she wanted us to be our own people. Living our own lives. Making our own choices."

Chapter 3: “Alucard”

The castle doesn’t like it when Adrian leaves.

Adrian is a child of both worlds, so he must walk in the day every once and a while. He cannot stay in the castle, in the night, forever; he must travel outside the room, feel the sunlight without the glass. He must understand his mother’s people; his human half. A glass half full is a glass half empty, and he understands his duty to fill in the blanks where humanity is supposed to be.

Castlevania is unsure. Afraid, perhaps. It does not know much of humanity…but it does know that their blood tastes sweet, their words sound sour, their hands feel bitter. It knows they are not likely to treat the son of the vampire king with kindness.

It knows of only one human whose touch and words are sweet without taste.

If his mother can be kind… is it possible other humans can be too? Or does being a mother simply necessitate kindness? Is it possible there is more to them than sour speech and the bitter fists? That they are more than just something to fill its master’s appetite and quiet his boredom?

Lisa tells them all so. She gathers her family in the room, and tells them stories of knights and heroes, witches and villains. Of good kings, and evil priests. Of good gods, and evil queens. Of demons and zombies and the heroes who rose up against them—(and maybe Adrian can be one of them, some day). Of people who have nothing but manage to change the world anyways. Of people who have everything but are empty all the same—(that one started to sound a little too familiar). And not all of the stories are read out of books. Some are real, were history. Some she’d even seen herself. Some were told to her. She said she heard some of the most wonderful ones from a Speaker once. She even made some up. Until Adrian himself formed stories when she wasn’t there to tell them.

Dracula looks out the window at the rain, chuckles to himself at the fact that too many of her stories end happily…but something deep inside his eyes is trying, trying to believe her. To believe there’s truth to these stories, even those she made up. To let the light in her eyes flow into his. He tries to make up his own stories too, sometimes. But the darkness in his presence does its best to swallow the light in her words.

Adrian snuggles up beside her and the gleam in her eyes reflects in his without a second’s resistance. Enough that after a childhood of listening to these stories, begging for his parents to take him outside, he can barely wait to experience it himself.

That’s not to say he never left. She took him out on little trips, letting him take bites of the world out there. Each time he came back with treasures—(well what he considered treasures)—in his hands, and a grin secured firmly to his face, and he’d ask with voice bright and fast as a hummingbird, where they’d go out next, and how long he’d have to wait. Even his father took him out to the enchanted forests and grottos of the world for lessons, but always made sure they were the deepest, most well-kept secrets of the world, where no human would find them.

Well, most of the time. There were times when he came back with tears in his eyes. He’d ask What’s a ‘monster’?, and his father would lean down, put his hand on his cheek, and say Definitely not you. Lisa would plead or argue with her husband, but when Dracula would leave, the moon would turn red, and he’d remember what blood tasted like.

But this is different. This isn’t some day trip to come back with trinkets, some night lesson to come back with knowledge. The time it’s stretched out, and stretching them thin.

When he leaves and doesn’t come back that night… that morning…the next…the room tries to speak but finds there’s no breath in it, like it got the wind knocked out of it.

This is a different emptiness from what Castlevania was before. It isn’t a principal, not simply a fact of life. It is an absence. An absence of something living. An absence of a fact of life. A true emptiness in that the room was once full.

It doesn’t take long for the room to know what I miss you means; that absence creates ripples of yearning in its wake. That emptiness aches to be filled. It misses the games he played in the sunlight, it misses the lullabies, the drawings, counting the stars and sitting by the fire, the moments when the family would tell stories to the walls they didn’t know were listening.

It even misses the crying.

The clock tower’s ticking eats away at them from the inside.

And within the ticking, the room, the castle, wonder what the humans will do to him out there.

Will he be a monster in their eyes? An enemy, a beast, an ugly thing? Will they not see the light in his nature, rather the dark that nurtured him?

Will he be a cacophony to their ears, the screeches and howls of undead things, instead of the symphony they know his voice to be?

Will his blood be that of demons and beasts to their noses, and will they cast him out for not being human enough?

Will he be a toy in their hands, just as he played humans-and-vampires, just as he pretended to fight monsters with wooden swords?

…But he is alive, and living things ought not be played with, for they cannot be imagined into something they’re not.

And if he is a toy to them…what will they make of him? Will they imagine him as a human like them? Or will they imagine him into a monster he is not? Will they realize he is neither? Will they think he needs the night when he is perfectly fine in the day? What stories will they tell of him?

Castlevania has not met many humans. But those it has were prone to make monsters out of decent men, and weapons out of instruments of peace.

Will the humans’ mouths be forked and deadly as ever? Will their hands be weak and empty as ever? Will they assess him as fuel for their ever-greedy fire? Will they take the life—they who have so much of it—take the single life they have here, the one that brought it to them all—and crush it out of him, figuratively or literally?

Will they bully him, and scorn him, and lie to him, and cheat him and hate him and…hurt him?

The room twists and spirals in its thoughts, as if going down a hill, and throbs at the last word.

Or… says the castle softly, Will they welcome him? Will they understand him? Will they see him as we have? As he truly is? Will his light withstand the darkness in them? Can he bring life to these bloodthirsty beasts?

When Adrian returns, what—or who—will he be?

The castle and the room wonder, and wait, and question, and long for him as they are left in the dark, holding their breath until breath itself is but a fleeting memory.

They couldn’t say how long it had been since he left, it could have been a lifetime. But one day, as black and white as the rest, the morning comes with spreading color, and breath tumbles into the deepest corners of the room again.

They are equal parts nervous and eager to hear the stories he has to tell; for these monsters and men are more than toys.

And he does have stories to tell.

Out there, adventure exists in more than just books. Out there he can learn without charts and lectures; he can learn by doing, by experiencing. He can put to use, and to the test, all the spells and techniques he practiced indoors. Out there the scenes that were pictures before are real, are alive—the rain licks and the snow bites, the grass whispers as the wind sings its haunting melody, and the rivers join in response. Out there he can smell the trees, and flowers, the campfires, listen to the howls and chirps of the animals, and feel the sun on his skin without the glass to separate them. Taste the world. And out there the heroes and villains are animate too—he can speak to them, and won’t have to dream up their responses. He can make friends and enemies out of words and actions instead of wood and clay. Out there the threats, the demons and monsters are real too, and he has to fight them with something sharp—be it his pen or his sword. Out there, imagination is a weapon against reality. Out there he doesn’t have to imagine his world to life because it already is. And he is alive in it…this is his life that he is finally living.

That is what a life is. The idea echoes in the room.

(If this is a life…are we alive? The room asks.

Alive isn’t the same as life. Castlevania mutters softly, and doesn’t explain.)

And, amongst all the adventures they learn that while he walked the world a spell, his mother’s people gave him a new name:

“Alucard.”

Alucard. The reverse of Dracula.

They looked at him, they listened to him, they spent time with him and they understood—(breathe again and be still, they understood)—they understood that he was not the dark and the cold and the death his father is. In fact, they thought that he was so different from his father that this reversal must be his name.

The room is proud of him, happy for him, relieved, for this was its purpose, its hope. Relieved to have him back—more full of life and light than ever.

Lisa, while always proud of him, doesn’t like the name. She named him after all, it makes sense that she wouldn’t appreciate a dismissal of the name she chose. But…there’s more to it than that. She doesn’t want him to be defined by his father. She doesn’t want him to be a difference, a reverse. She wants him to be himself. Him and his father to be different people. She wants them to be themselves; not dividends, fractured pieces of one another put back together in different orders.

(But aren’t we all fractured pieces of each other? Don’t we take fragments of each other to make up ourselves?)

This is a strange thought to Castlevania, for it has always been defined by Dracula, and never minded, but perhaps mirrors ought not mind their reflectors. Adrian is no mirror. Still, the castle has always compared the boy to his father. The room was always meant to be the opposite of the Dracula, of his castle. The boy’s very existence has always spelled the reverse of everything they knew. Its only fitting the boy would be a reversal of his father.

‘Adrian’ is a nice name…but ‘Alucard’ fits like a tailored suit.

Adrian likes the world. Makes sense, he likes the sun, the day, the mirrors, the books, the stories, the people.

But what doesn’t make as much sense, and what’s more important, is the world likes him. At first its strange, but as the castle thinks about it more it makes sense; they may have come with pitchforks before, because they didn’t like Dracula. …But Alucard is not Dracula.

The room breathes deep, more alive than ever. And, as its master returns, tells his story, the room learns too.

Castlevania may be able to move for its master, but the room is stuck in its place. It cannot see the rest of the world like the boy can. It understands now that Alucard being different from Dracula also means that he cannot stay inside like his father does. That though it hurts when he leaves, the room can never be everything he needs the way the castle can for Dracula. That he is made for something bigger than four walls…even if those four walls were part of what made him.

It understands that breath cannot be a constant for it. That its master will leave, and the room will be hollow and ache for certain periods of time. This is a fact of life. This is what living is.

But it also understands that he will always come back. This isn’t something it reasoned or multiplied out. This is just something it knows within the oldest parts of it; that they will never be apart forever.

Now that the room is alive within the castle it will always be its own existence. Even if it’s empty, even if it gets broken and battered, it will always be the universe they built for him, a universe can’t be destroyed by mortal hands. It can never be fully erased as long as Alucard lives.

(…And Castlevania understands that is dangerous.)

The room understands that though life was always a stagnant thing for the castle, it is more dynamic and elusive for it. It will go through periods where there is nothing in that room, and the emptiness will throb, but in the same way that Alucard has the kind of life Dracula could never have, the room will have the kind of life the castle could never have.

The room’s breath will ever be catching itself and falling, like a dance, as if always during the most exiting part of a story.

[nat-the-cat-123]

(this will be a VERY long post)

✨Time to criticize Yashahime ✨

First of all:

I will only criticize the writing aspects, so don't expect me to say anything about the animation since I barely know about that stuff

Because of this I also won't address anything of Sessrin or the discontent because of Moroha's and Inukag's separation because that's more of a fandom thing

And this is only the opinion of someone who isn't any kind of expert in writing or something like that

Uff, Yashahime finally ended and it was... Interesting.

So let's criticize it :)

So first of all let's tell the ✨the good things✨ because even if there are more bad things, infact there are very little good things, we have to give credit where credit is due.

Good things :D

The girls' originality

Something that I saw other fandoms have complained in their own "next generation sequel" (like in boruto) is that the kids were just a "copy paste" of their parents, and when Yashahime was just announced I saw the same concerns (specially with Setsuna and Moroha)

But in the end I think any of them ended up being just female Inuyasha/Sesshomaru, and all were able to be their very own character.

Half of their relationship

Ok, I'm specifying that only half because sometimes the twins would be a little unfair with Moroha, but then be her "new family"(?), But then they proceed to leave her behind, and then AGAIN being like bff's so there is no consistency.

But in the first episodes Sunrise got it right and we could see a pretty good and functional dynamic between the 3 that was consistent and made sense.

Each one had a defined role that worked, Towa was the "moral" one, Setsuna the "cold" one who took more drastic decisions, and Moroha intervenes mediating both and brings information that may help please both sides. (At the beginning)

Moroha

I'M SORRY, I'm sorry, I can't help it, it's just that she has so much charm and is so lovely and innocent. And you can totally ignore the fact that she's InuKag's daughter and still love her just because her personality brings so much to the story.

It's such a shame that they didn't really use all her potential but I'll get to that later.

Aaaand that's all ;-;

Now let's go to the interesting part...

The bad things D:<

Towa

This point I actually want to explore it further in another post, because there's a lot I want to talk about her to specify what exactly went wrong and how I would have managed her but here I will leave it simple.

Towa in any way possible wasn't properly used, and even if almost every character suffered of bad writing, she was the most affected one.

She honestly isn't interesting, everything that could have been done with her according to her backstory was completely wasted, because even if she was the one with the least tragic story, there was a lot to work with (I mean, just look at Kagome's case and still most of the fandom loved her)

She kept changing her personality and ideology according to what the story needed, and at some point her only trait was "Setsuna's protective older sister"

And don't even get me started with how overpowered she is without any kind of training (I get she knows how to fight with bullies, but clearly that isn't the same as fighting demons with demonic energy)

Phasing

When people argue if the phasing is too fast or too slow, I think it's both, but in the worst way possible.

They waste so much time in scenes that aren't really that necessary or could be much shorter, and rush at incredible speed things that should actually be worked slowly and carefully.

The fights

I only can remember two or three that I actually liked because most of them were just exchanging hits with the sword, sometimes an special movement and that's all.

Half of the battles didn't affect the story in the least, and the worst of all was how the villains were defeated wether because they were lame as fuck or because Towa's random power up appeared out of nowhere.

Meanwhile in Inuyasha even if we didn't always had the best fights of all anime, we did get some pretty interesting choreographies and some villains really had an impact on the characters in a natural way.

Talking about villains...

Naraku is laughing from his grave

You know? I'm not a Naraku fan, but he was a bastard that you loved to hate, he maybe wasn't the most powerful character when we talk purely about his strength, but he was intelligent as fuck, he was always one step ahead, he had some pretty interesting abilities and plans, with him he brought other AMAZING villains (or anti heroes) like Kagura, Kanna, Hakudoshi, the weird baby, or even Sesshomaru back at the beginning, and the best part was how he was written being a complex character (like when he struggled with his human feelings for Kikyo)

But on the other hand we have Kirinmaru, Zero, the four losers (I mean, perils), probably my boy Riku, and who knows what other random villains.

First of all, ONLY RIKU would be a good villain (maybe I should have put him in the good things ;-;)

But then we have the four perils who, out of them the only one who seemed to know what he was doing was the green guy that did weird witchcraft, but the rest? They are just randomly bothering people because they have nothing else to do and honestly they didn't seem to be that powerful.

I'm not sure about Kirinmaru because I don't see anything clear with him, I mean, I'm not even sure if he's a villain.

And Zero... *Sighs*

I don't get what the hell she's trying to do. Anything that she does makes sense. She's just alive because of Riku, without him she can't do anything.

Like seriously, half of the world was after Naraku's ass, even his allies, and still he could get away with it. Zero can't even get her army in order to take care of 3 fourteen years old girls.

(Sorry for letting myself go with this one ;-;)

Not using half of your characters

I guess the best example is Moroha because even with an interesting backstory, mysterious abilities, and most of the fandom's love, they just used her as comedic relief for most of the series instead of developing her character or explaining better her spiritual abilities or Beniyasha.

And not only her, Hisui and the rest of the demon slayers were more of a background character. For example, in Hisui's episode we should have gotten to meet him, Gyokuto, and Kin'u better, but they preferred to focus in the twins AGAIN and not work the MirSan family. (Guys, first season and I still can't tell Hisui's definitive personality)

Same Takechiyo, Kyubi, Yawaragi, Kohaku, the villains, some past characters, sometimes even Riku. Basically every character who isn't Towa and Setsuna are walking tools for them to use whenever the plot needs it.

And no, I'm not saying "The twins shouldn't be the protagonists", a I'm saying "SIDE CHARACTERS AREN'T JUST PLOT DEVICES, THEY ALSO DESERVE DEFINED PERSONALITIES AND CHARACTER ARCS TO MAKE THE WORLD RICHER, OTHERWISE IT FEELS LIKE THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND THE PROTAGONISTS"

Inuyasha knew when and how to dedicate an episode to a character, Yashahime doesn't.

Lack of character development

No one, except for Setsuna who is learning to rely and trust more on the girls, has any kind of development (sorry Moroha (･ัω･ั)).

I see Towa exactly the same as in the first episode, and because of how they've barely put attention to Moroha, she has barely shown any growth as well.

And I guess Hisui learnt how to trust his dad, but again, I can barely tell which is his personality, and the rest are background characters.

Powers / Abilities / Weapons

Here they neither explained ANY of the characters abilities properly or made them more powerful making sense.

Towa, just randomly learnt how to concentrate her demon energy in a sword and just keeps getting new abilities without training, and any of them seem to have any effect on Towa like (idk) having the risk of running out of energy. And at the beginning I liked how she struggled with her other demon abilities like smelling things but then they just forgot ;-;.

Setsuna's stick just produces wind and lasers without explanation, and her sealed power doesn't really work naturally.

And Moroha... EXPLAIN BENIYASHA BETTER. SAME FOR THE SPIRITUAL POWERS, that was supposed to be impossible!!! And again they recognized that at the very beginning, why did they forgot about it later???

There barely has been any "world" expansion

Something that Inuyasha never really got into was the "demon society", because with the exception of some tribes they never mentioned anything related to that BUT...

With that thing of Inu no Taisho and Kirinmaru apparently being "royalty" I thought they would talk more about that "Demon hierarchy" or if "Setsuna's courage trial" was something like a demon tradition (damn, that was honestly pretty interesting) but NO.

The topic has been barely mentioned and let's keep saying over and over again what the audience already knows for 24 episodes.

Weird Exposition

The way they threw information at us was pretty weird, like it didn't feel "organic" because instead of the girls getting into whatever situation where "x" character tells them certain things because it is related to what is happening, again, they chose pretty weird ways.

There were like 1,000 different options to tell us what happened to InuKag and Sesshomaru and all of them, like the girls talking with Myoga or Kaede...

BUT THEY CHOSE TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL.

Comedy

I'm not saying Moroha is a bad comedy relief, she actually came with many good jokes, but you can't leave only ONE character to take care of the comedy. Towa and Setsuna also came with some good funny moments, so why would they only reduce the comedy to Moroha????

(In Inuyasha EVERYONE gave amazing comedy moments, even Sesshomaru)

And the worst part is that they only use the same joke with her most of the time! Losing her bounty and being poor.

"Atmosphere" (?)

I Promise I don't want to sound pretentious with this one ;-;

Those scenes where we were supposed to feel sad because of someone's death, intimidated because Kirinmaru appeared or excited because of a fight didn't work out.

I don't know exactly why but I think that it is because of a combination of lazy animation, bad selection of soundtrack, weird dialogue and the characters' lack of reaction.

So now that I think I've said all the points that they got wrong, let's get to the conclusion.

They stablished side plots or mysteries everywhere and didn't really do anything with them.

The girls never advanced with the story, they just kept running in circles around the same point during 24 episodes. (And no matter how long or short a story is, you can NEVER do that or you'll lose the audience's attention).

And with or without a second season, they made terrible mistakes that won't be able to be fixed. If it is only one season, TERRIBLE, they left way to much things uncovered, and if they plan another season, ALSO TERRIBLE, they rushed essential things and if they work them again they'll repeat one of their biggest mistakes.

And honestly I really tried to love this sequel, almost up to episode 12 I really tried to appreciate the small good things but they just kept slapping me with disappointment every single episode, and if they release a second season, I'll watch it but this time only expecting the worst of it.

In resume, yo can only truly enjoy Yashahime if you completely turn off your critical sense, and expecting nothing from it, otherwise you'll only keep asking yourself "why?"

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Teen-ish, some references of sexual activity, but nothing explicit.

Trigger Warnings: None

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 10/16 (all chapters)

The last time you were in UA this late, you had given Shouta a faceful of pepper spray.

You shuddered as you swiped your ID and headed inside with Hizashi, still not sure you believed that any of this was real.

Only a matter of hours ago, you had been soaking in his bathtub, enveloped in far, far too many bubbles. You could still smell them against your skin, still feel the telltale ache between your thighs from your earlier activities.

Even as you strode through the corridors, Hizashi’s touches ghosted your body. You could still feel the tickles from where he had gotten down on his knees to fasten your shoes for you, the way he had stroked your hair and lulled you into sleep.

In many respects, you felt guilty. Hosu had burned while you paid for doughnuts. People had been grievously wounded while you cried out in pleasure. You had fallen asleep with your head on Hizashi’s chest while children came face to face with a serial killer.

Rationally speaking, you knew that there was nothing you could have done. You might have worked at UA but that didn’t change the fact that you were a civilian. Even if you had been on the scene, you would only have gotten in the way, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the pangs of guilt.

Several of the other teachers had already gathered in the conference room generally reserved for staff meetings. Several of them, including Shouta, had plainly come straight from patrolling the streets. Others, such as Cementoss, had been disturbed from sleep and still not quite woken up. Nezu sat at the head of the table, resting his head on his hands with a grave expression, while All Might paced the room, no doubt concerned for Midoriya.

You heard Shouta long before you saw him.

“This is bullshit and you know it.”

He was leaning against the wall, arms folded and looking furious, though where exactly that anger was directed you couldn’t be sure.

“Yo, yo, yo!” Hizashi called out as you entered the room. “Did someone call for a party?!”

Everyone turned to look in your direction, several rubbing their temples at the sudden noise. Shouta‘s eyes darted from you to Hizashi, plainly joining the dots.

You took in the stern faces and heavy atmosphere, before clapping your hands together.

“I’m going to make some coffee.”

~~~~

It took around half an hour for the rest of the faculty to arrive, by which time everyone had either taken a seat at the table or positioned themselves somewhere in the room. You sat down a few chairs down from Nezu, between Vlad and Hizashi. Shouta stayed on his feet, visibly agitated.

“I’ve called you all here to discuss the events in Hosu city,” said Nezu at last. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the news by now… but for those of you who haven’t…”

He pressed a button on the desk, switching on the enormous television screen behind him. You winced at the footage of Hosu shining like an inferno.

“Earlier this evening, the Hero Killer Stain was taken into police custody,” he said. “I’m sure you are all aware of his troubling history.”

Just about everyone had heard of the Hero Killer. He was responsible for the deaths of multiple heroes, as well as the critical injuries of many more. For most, he was a boogeyman.

“Recently, the hero killer struck in Hosu city, permanently disabling the hero Ingenium, also known as Iida Tensei,” said Nezu, “or, perhaps more importantly, the older brother of 1-A student Iida Tenya.”

You folded your arms and glanced at Shouta out of the corner of your eye, remembering a conversation you had had a week before.

You hadn’t talked much after he told you everything Hizashi liked, though that in itself wasn’t too far out of the ordinary. Shouta wasn’t a talkative person even when his schedule was forgiving.

He had knocked on your office door a little after lunch and sank down into the chair opposite your desk, arms folded and with a stony expression.

“Iida,” he had said, dropping a file on your desk. “I want you to speak to him.”

Earlier that day he had received a phone call from Iida’s mother, who was distressed to say the least about what had happened to the older of her sons. She had wanted UA to be aware of his situation and forgiving of any strange behaviour over the next few weeks. The worst case scenario would result in time off school.

Tenya would have needed counselling even without the grave circumstances of Tensei’s injuries and you met with him twice after the sports festival, though he had little interest in opening up. He thanked you for your concerns in the respectful manner you had come to expect from him, though shut down any attempt to discuss how he truly felt.

You and Shouta had both been concerned for him, though limited in exactly how far you could intervene. Never had it been more apparent than when he submitted his internship application. Shouta arrived in your office again, suspicious of the reasoning behind Tenya’s agency of choice, though Tenya himself denied any ulterior motives. Neither you nor Shouta had the power to deny him his agency of choice after both sides had agreed and so he had gone to work with Manual, now confirming all of your worst fears.

“Tonight, three of our students faced off against the hero killer, acting independently without the authority of their supervisors,” said Nezu. “Currently, we have only limited information available, but I do know that these students are Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya and Todoroki Shoto.”

As the daughter of a prosecutor, you knew without having to ask that this was a serious situation.

Even before you knew how to read and write, you understood the basics of hero law. Your father had decided all of his children would be lawyers and every family meal swiftly turned into a game of rapid fire questions.

“Could it be,” you said, “you’re going to expel them?”

Nezu sighed, resting his head on his hands.

“The incident is currently under investigation,” he said, “but that is a likely outcome.”

“And I’m telling you, it’s bullshit,” said Shouta. “What’s the point in training heroes if we punish them for acts of heroism?”

“The laws on this matter are quite clear,” said Nezu, “albeit short sighted. If three of our best students are expelled, not only will our reputation suffer greatly but it will quickly feed into the rhetoric of villains. For heroes to be punished for saving lives...well...doesn’t that only add fuel to the argument that modern hero society encourages grandstanding more than it does justice?”

“Is there nothing we can do?” Hizashi piped up. “Character references, that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, our hands are tied. At present the case is in the hands of the authorities,” said Nezu, “and heroes in general cannot interfere with the law. We can only hope that they reach a favourable conclusion.”

“We do need a plan of action, though,” said Nemuri. “If the students are formally charged, there’ll be reporters halfway around the block by sunrise.”

“We’re currently lacking critical information,” sighed Nezu. “Any action we take now would be based on pure hypotheticals.”

You chewed your thumbnail and watched the television, watching as the hero killer took several steps towards Midoriya.

“For a case this severe,” you said, “it’ll go all of the way to the top, likely overseen by the Chief of Police...”

“I imagine so.”

“In that case,” you said, “I think it’ll be okay.”

All eyes fell on you and heat rose in your cheeks.

“Uh, a-a-a-a-at least that’s my opinion!”

“No,” said Nezu, “go on.”

“Well,” you said, thinking back to your father’s dinner table quizzes, “I’m not too sure how to put this...hmm...but for a case like this, there’s a burden of proof. It’s not enough that they happened to be there at the time. You need proof that they each broke the law; that they each individually ignored orders and attacked Stain without permission. This would mean verifying wound patterns, collecting eyewitness reports, taking testimonies from all involved...”

You turned to look at the television, a grim expression across your face.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that of all of the footage of this incident, we’ve only ever seen that one looping video of Stain right before he collapsed? Considering everything happening in Hosu at the time, doesn’t it seem just a little bit likely that that is the only footage? Why haven’t they mentioned eyewitnesses?”

“Stain is known for keeping to the shadows,” said Nemuri. “It’d make sense for him to choose a place away from the public eye, with very few security cameras and minimal chances of being disturbed...which in this instance would work in our favour…”

“And if we consider the students’ quirks,” said Shouta, “Midoriya’s quirk is strength based, Iida’s is speed based, Todoroki’s consists of fire and ice…”

“...and we already know the city was burning,” said Hizashi, “there’s footage of Endeavour at the scene…”

“And Gran Torino,” said All Might. “His quirk is speed based. If we take into account Endeavour’s physical strength and fire, as well as Gran Torino’s speed...then all we have to account for is Todoroki’s ice...”

“...and it’d be difficult to prove either way that it was used to attack as opposed to defend. It’s likely at least one of them has injuries from Stain’s blade,” said Vlad.

“In the chaos of the overall incident, only the students and their supervisors can definitively say they ignored instructions,” said Cementoss. “So we just need to rely on Todoroki, Midoriya and Iida to play it smart.”

All eyes fell on Shouta.

He sighed.

“We’re screwed.”

~~~

You stayed on site for a few hours after that, going over contingency plans until Hizashi offered to walk you home. If tonight had taught you nothing else, it was how dangerous the streets could be and so you were only too happy to take him up on it. Not to mention, you wanted to have a frank discussion about how you were going to proceed now that you’d slept together.

“Is it always like this?”

“Hmm? Like what?”

You gazed up at the sky and stifled a yawn, taking note of the sunrise. To say tonight hadn’t gone as planned was an understatement.

“Ever since I came here,” you said. “It feels like there’s been one drama after another.”

“I think,” said Hizashi, booping your nose, “the universe saved it all just for you.”

You laughed at that, for he had no idea just how right he actually was. You had already slept with a coworker by your second day.

“Hey, hey you guys!”

Heels clattered against the tarmac and Nemuri threw her arms around you both. She was as dressed up as you were and you remembered grimly what Hizashi had said to you outside of Les Papilles , which was only a few hours ago, but felt like decades.

You kinda put us in the mood for French food.

Hizashi hadn’t gone to Les Papilles alone and, given he and Nemuri already had plans to hang out that evening, it made sense that they would have gone together.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” said Hizashi with a smirk, “where’ve you been?”

“Asking all of the wrong questions, Mic,” she said, letting go of both of you. “Where haven’t I been?”

She reached up to cup your face and squeeze your cheeks.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“Iv it a glath of wine?”

“No, something way better!”

Nemuri took a step back and rummaged in her bra, leaving you a heady mix of intrigued and nervous. She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it over, eyes bright with excitement. You unfolded it, trying not to think about how warm it was.

It was a receipt from a pricey jewellery store for an equally pricey engagement ring. You reached into your purse, feeling around until your fingers landed on smooth metal. You dragged out the ring and read the receipt, matching up the item to the description.

“This...this is,” you said, eyes wide. “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

You couldn’t look away from the price at the bottom; Akira must have chosen the most expensive one in the store. With that sort of money, you could pay your rent several times over and still have enough left to buy several ordinary engagement rings.

“This…I...”

You were more than a little bit overwhelmed. You had known Nemuri and Hizashi only a few months and yet they’d done so much for you.

How would the night have gone without them?

Would you have spent another 45 minutes in the shower like you did the day he dumped you?

Your eyes welled with tears and threw your arms around both of them, murmuring your thanks over and over. Nemuri stroked your back, Hizashi stroked your hair and for a moment all was right in the world, the Hosu incident and Akira’s cruel words at the back of your mind.

Only one thing could have made it better, you considered, heart skipping a beat at the sound of Shouta’s voice only a moment later.

“The hell did you two do?”

You supposed from an outsider’s perspective, it wasn’t immediately obvious that your tears were happy ones and you took a step back, meaning to reassure him that everything was okay. Hizashi got there before you, though, reaching an arm towards him.

“Ahh, Sho,” called out Hizashi, “come on, we’re having a moment. Group hug!”

“No.”

“Come into my arms, Eraser,” purred Nemuri.

“Never gonna happen.”

“Aw c’monnnnnnn.”

“No. I’m leaving.”

He turned to go and you untangled yourself from the hug, still rubbing the tears from your eyes as you picked up your pace and followed him, looping your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his back. He peered over his shoulder, visibly bewildered, though didn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “thank you.”

“What for?”

You considered it, struggling to settle on one singular thing.

You remembered standing in front of your bathroom mirror with a pair of kitchen scissors and drugstore hair dye; remembered the emergency salon trip that swiftly followed. You remembered the expressions of shock as you handed in your resignation at your previous job; the excitement and hope you had felt on your first day at UA.

You remembered Akira’s words outside of Les Papilles .

Who else is going to want you?

You knew he had only said that to hurt you and in another life it would have knocked you for six. Now, though, it was clear to you that he was only repeating the same words you had told yourself every day since your first date.

Shouta was supposed to have been a one night stand and could so easily have been a costly mistake, but had instead been a turning point. He wanted you when it mattered, even if your encounter had only been sex. Until then you hadn’t known how it felt to be desired, didn’t know what it was like to be wanted without putting on some sort of mask. All of your life you had twisted and turned to become the person others needed. Shouta, though, had wanted you when all he knew was your name.

You didn’t know how to thank him for that.

Instead you said something else; something that gave him goosebumps and sent the tension from his body; something that brought crooked smiles to Hizashi and Nemuri’s face when they overheard it.

Something that, though none of you knew it then, Shouta would replay in his mind in the weeks to come.

~~~~~

As you embraced Shouta, everything falling into place, Masayama Akira woke up in cold sweats. His head pounded, his feet were numb and he realised, as he rubbed his temples, that he had no idea where he was.

He stumbled to his feet and glanced at his surroundings: the sky overhead and cold breeze. His heart skipped a beat when he realised he was at the top of a skyscraper with no shoes or jacket.

“What the f-,” he mumbled, hobbling towards the door.

He remembered only vague details of the night before, of getting down on one knee and eating dinner with another woman; a woman he had gotten drunk with and spent the night ranting to over beers.

“She’s nothing,” he remembered saying, holding up his beer for a toast. “I’m better without her.”

“Akira,” the woman had cooed, “you’re so right. You need to rid yourself of her...and I know exactly where to start.”

She stroked a hand to his arm, so gently that it made him shiver.

“Did you, by any chance, keep the receipt for the ring?”

Akira sighed in despair as he reached for the door handle, remembering nothing after that. Perhaps he’d call her once he’d had coffee.

Unfortunately, Akira realised very quickly that he wouldn’t be getting coffee any time soon. The door to the building was sealed shut and wouldn’t give no matter how hard he yanked at it.

He cursed and reached into his pocket for his phone, only to curse louder at the realisation that he was too high up to receive any sort of signal.

This was, perhaps, the worst thing to ever happen to him, overshadowed only by the knowledge that even now, after everything, his instinct was to call you.