#I suppose then Shining Glitter’s the most likely but for me she’s kind of eh

[quibbs126]

Well according to this leak, possibly all the music Cookies are coming over

I have to admit, this one I’m definitely skeptical of. One thing in particular being that usually, we only see one Epic at a time, not all three if there are three. Though maybe I’m just used to seeing an Epic with something higher since that’s what we’ve been getting since Moonlight. But still, all three seems odd

Not to mention, they usually have at least one new original Cookie. I mean, it won’t be as fun to do “Who’s that Cookie?” if we’ve already seen the Cookie before

Maybe some of these guys will just be NPCs, and only one or two will be playable. Not sure which though

Though with all these guys presumably being in the next update, maybe the next update will be like some sort of music festival? Or a competition? That’d be fun

Edit: so apparently there’s no actual proof of Popping Candy

[theuniversalscat]

Christmas is a time, when you can what I like to refer to as “over feel” or, as the kids say, over “feels” but what I truly feel sometimes is “over the feels”.

The holidays, at least for me, seem to sometimes over magnify my lack of involvement. I think Charles Schultz was really onto something when he wrote about it for the peanuts Christmas. Charlie Brown didn’t feel very well liked or included, and it was really hard for him at Christmas to feel that wonderful spirit, because everything in his 3D life showed him his belief, that no one cared about him.

Lucy, his classmate, is usually pretty judgemental of him, but she made a good point that perhaps if he became more involved in some community activities of the holiday season, it would allow him the opportunity to feel that Christmas spirit. So he did, but his beliefs were still magnified on the outside of him, that people were disrespecting him, and no one was listening to, or including him. Til the end of the peanuts Christmas special, but that doesn’t always happen in real life.

That’s pretty fudging depressing. We don’t live in a cartoon where we have to wrap up the “poop present” he received from every kid, happily, in 22 minutes, ok? If I were Charlie Brown, I would’ve threatened to shove that dry and prickly little branch tree where the sun didn’t shine to all those bratty kids. I would’ve said in a not so Christmasy way,

“Um, excuse me Peanuts gang! Yeah, I hate to interrupt your nonsense you got going on here on stage, cause I’m sure it’s really important, but you got a PROBLEM with the Christmas tree I was so kind to pick out AND PAY FOR while you acted a fool up here in this auditorium singing and dancing all Willy nilly with no direction or destiny? If you think you’re all something, why the Christmas cracker am I here? For my health?! No! Am i not the director?! Last time i checked i thought i was! So no to you, peanuts gang! I’m supposed to be here getting involvement, right?! But you know what I discovered about myself along the way? I’m kind with the exception of now, and super delightful! And you, are not the kind of people I want to have involvement with! So why don’t you take your snarky comments and nippy “Jack Frost” attitude about me and send em in a holiday card to someone who gives a holiday rat’s pixie dust patoot! (Yeah, i don’t know how to pretty that one up, folks….) And while you’re at it, put some mistletoe above that rat’s (i know how to pretty it up! I’ll throw some glitter on it…) glittery derrière! And you know what to do! Just in case you don’t I’ll help you out…. Pucker up! Yeah! Jerk faches….”

I mean, who in the “h-e- double hocky sticks” wants to be involved with these kind of people, complainy and eh eh eh eh ehhhhhhhhhhhhh about every little thing, especially around the holidays?! I know i don’t! (I’m pretty sure that was a direct quote from Charlie Brown’s sister, Sally from one of those Christmas specials, too. The “h-e” was eliminated from the “hockey sticks” part when she said it, but i know what she meant.) Needless to say, I’d be Charlie Brown in this scenario, with most likely a few Christmas cards in the form of restraining orders… 🤣🤷‍♀️🙈🎅🤣🤣🤣

So, even if you have to be by yourself binge watching the “holiday baking championship” on the fudging food network when you don’t even bake and you eat a salmon salad while you look at all the delicious looking desserts then you go into your pantry about 32 times saying, “yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.” trying NOT to eat yourself out of house and home, especially if it has even a hint of sugar, which you do eat but it’s not nearly as satisfying as what you’re looking at on the show, and you sit with your semi but not sugar starved, grinchy self, thinking as Christmasy as a burnt cookie with “stink stank stunk” royal icing, cause you learned the baking terms but not the actual baking technique, at least no one will bother you, in person. But, they will if you think about them, and how they treated you in the past. So don’t do that!

That lil ditty was a Christmas poem by Charles Bukowski.

Happy holidays to you! 🙈🎅🤷‍♀️💝🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[jootsmcgoots]

MBC Selfshipping Prompts #1: First Dates (Risotto Nero)

WOO BOY so Haley started a weekly Selfship Prompt event over at MBC, and I wanted to write it out! And so I did. 

Mind you, this uses my self-insert, Niko, so it’s going to be using that name and female pronouns. This work got away from me, so it ended up being 2422 words (even when I meant for this to be less than 2k words......lmaooo...)

I will get around to posting my reader inserts soon, but not yet LOL I’ll get around to it when I get around to it. This blog is still very much a WIP because I still need to re-reblog a LOT of content from the old blog.

But for now, this is what I’m writing and I wanted to post it up. I may write another for Mista, but we’ll see (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

So as the title implies, this is the first of the prompts, and it’s “First Dates”.

Niko let out a yawn as she sleepily looked out at the busy street. Her eyes scanned the droves of people walking around, trying to scope out her target. Dark eyes blinked as she studied the faces of men nearing her, trying to determine if they were the one she was looking for. When they passed by her, she shrugged internally.

Her phone’s clock read 10:47 AM. She knew they agreed to meet around 11, but it never hurt to be early. “And anyways, better to be early than late, right? Right.” She still couldn’t help getting bored easily, and the anxiety and tension building in her chest continued to rise as the seconds passed.

“Calm down, calm down,” she thought to herself, “It’s just a date; you’ve been on dates before! Just treat it like you’re just hanging out with a friend.” Niko let out the breath she was holding and took her phone out, idly browsing it in order to distract herself. “Plus, it’s Mimi’s brother. There’s no way he’d be the bad kind of sort. She wouldn’t set us up if she thought we weren’t going to get along.”

Still, she had to admit she was surprised when her friend made the suggestion and arrangements. Niko recalled as her friend more or less pushed the aquarium tickets into her hand and snatched her phone to punch in her brother’s contact info.

“It’ll be nice, I promise! He’s a really great guy, and I think you two will hit it off!” Mimi flashed the smaller woman a grin. “Plus, he needs to get out more often.”

Niko’s mouth formed a slight line as she remembered how she had asked her friend for a photo of her date, but Mimi’s grin only grew with amusement.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! You’ll know when you see him.”

A noise of annoyance escaped Niko’s throat. “Dude, what does that even mean?” Her brow creased as she tried to think on what that could have meant, but quickly gave up, deciding it was too much effort. Her eyes absentmindedly left her phone screen to scope out her surroundings again.

Except her eyes bugged out as they fell on a large, foreboding man in dark clothing who towered over most if not all of the other people walking along. Whether by his size or presence, people seemed to naturally get out of his way as he continued making his way down the street. Everything about him exuded a quiet kind of power, from the way he walked, his stern expression, his hulking, muscular frame…

Though she remained completely stock-still, Niko shook her head inwardly. “No, no, maybe it’s not him! Maybe it’s just your regular, big, muscular, scary-lookin’ dude with fucking black sclera and red eyes, just walkin’ down the street for a stroll! All decked out in black and has the kinda expression that says, ‘hey so if you piss me off, I’m going to rip your limbs off’! Totally normal! Yeah! Hahaha!”

However, despite the thousands of thoughts going through her head at miles a minute, Niko knew. Now she understood what Mimi had meant by “You’ll know.” When the man stopped in front of her, it was undeniable that this man was indeed her date.

She could feel red eyes roving over her, studying her. If looks could kill, Niko felt like she would have been smote where she stood from the intensity of his stare alone.

Risotto’s unblinking crimson stare studied the woman before him. She certainly matched the picture and profile his sister had given him. Petite and girlish stature, short black hair that swept to the right, glasses, gold studs in her lobes, everything matched. He noted how she was sporting a mint green frog backpack, just like she’d specified she would so that he could recognize her easier. How thoughtful of her to suggest that in the first place. He couldn’t deny that he appreciated the consideration.

He was an observant man and was well-aware of his perception skills. After all, it was an invaluable skill in his line of work. However even without his sharp senses, there was no missing the look of surprise, awe, and slight fear in his date’s flabbergasted visage. Her eyes were wide, brows raised to the sky and jaw slack, lips seeming to form the beginnings of “Oh my god.”

Risotto let out a nearly imperceptible huff of amusement. His sister was right; this woman’s face hid nothing. He couldn’t help but smile a little at that candidness.

Introductions were short and awkward, but they served their purposes. Once acquainted, the pair could proceed with their date. Their itinerary was rather basic, just go to an aquarium and get some food together. Simple enough.

However, conversation was rather sparse as they made their way to their destination. Without any prior knowledge or known common ground, Niko was unsure of what to talk about, and Risotto was a taciturn individual by nature.

He didn’t dislike the small talk that she was trying to make, asking him things like what he did, what his hobbies were, but it required him to think carefully about his responses. It wasn’t exactly appropriate to vent about how little you were being paid to kill people on a first date.

What were you even supposed to talk about on a first meeting like this anyways? It had been far too long since he had tried connecting with someone new, let alone someone not affiliated with Passione. Though Risotto’s face remained as placid as ever, worry and nerves began bubbling beneath the surface as he picked up on the traces of worry and discomfort on his date’s face, and he wracked his brain for more to say.

He wasn’t alone, though; Niko hardly ever met people like this, usually having some common ground with new conversational partners. Here, she had absolutely no idea. Inwardly, she cursed Mimi for putting them in this awkward situation, wishing a thousand poxes on her friend’s house.

=====

“Eh? You set them up on a date?”

“Yup!” Mimi replied cheerily.

“And it’s a blind date, you said? And she doesn’t know what he looks like?”

Mimi hummed an affirmative as she snuggled up against her boyfriend’s shoulder, black nails clacking against her phone screen as she browsed. Though Kakyoin’s eyes hadn’t left the screen and he had continued dutifully chaining combos, his brows raised in surprise as he made a considering noise.

“Oh dear. She’s in for quite the surprise then.” As the victory logo flashed on screen, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead and smiled warmly at Mimi.

“That’s evil. I love it.”

=====

Arriving to the aquarium was a relief and a salvation to Niko. At least now they could busy themselves with an activity, and that would give them something to do together. Slowly, their conversation became less stiff and stilted, as Niko began prattling off about the various exhibits they toured together. Bit by bit, she continued to come out of her shell as she pulled him from room to room, and by noontime she was babbling nonstop about the penguin feeding exhibit they had just been at.

“…and god, they were just so damned cute!” Her eyes glittered at the memory. “Fun fact, did you know that there was this one penguin that fell in love with an anime character? I’m not kidding!” Niko nodded as Risotto tilted his head at that statement. “Yeah, yeah! His name was Grape-kun and he uh…” Her words petered out, and her expression turned sheepish.

Risotto raised a brow, unsure of why she stopped. “Is something wrong?”

Niko fidgeted in silence for a moment before answering. “I…I just kinda realized that I’ve been dragging you from place to place, and I’ve just been rambling non-stop. It’s – it’s not that…it’s okay if you’re just not one for talking. I totally get that!” she said, waving her hands in front of her before wringing them worriedly. “I just wanna make sure you’re having fun too. Like, I just hope I’m not talking over you or only doing the things I wanna do, y’know?”

She looked up at him to meet his stare. Embarrassment was racking up by the second, and as she was going to open her mouth, he spoke.

“I’ve been enjoying myself.”

Relief flooded her senses. Niko smiled at him as she registered his words, her expression relaxing into something much brighter. He couldn’t help but mirror the expression, even though the corners of his mouth had barely turned upwards.

She clapped her hands together as a thought seemed to dawn on her.

“I know! Was there anything in particular that you wanted to do? Anything here that you were looking forward to?”

At that, Risotto’s eyes widened just the tiniest bit, but Niko had caught it. “There is, isn’t there?” she probed with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, tell me! I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

He averted his eyes, and she chuckled good-naturedly at his sudden shyness. “C’mooon, tell me! We already came all the way out here, so if there was something you wanted to do, let’s go and do it!”

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t turn away from her expression, bright and shining like the sun, with no escape. Risotto let out a mumble, still unable to look her directly in the eye.

“Mm? What was that?” Niko tilted her ear towards him.

“…the manta rays.” He repeated himself, barely louder.

She made the connection in seconds. “Oh! The petting pool with the manta rays!” Niko threw him a grin as he nodded. “Yeah, I gotcha! Let’s go!” And at that, she immediately set off before stopping short and looking behind her, waiting for him. “Come on! It gets really crowded, so let’s head on over.”

The petting pool was a popular exhibit, and it was already full of people, children and adults alike, all fawning over the adorable manta rays that practically jumped out of the water for a petting. Though his face remained as stony as ever, the sparkles in Risotto’s eyes exposed his excitement as the sounds of splashing drew nearer and nearer.

Niko let out a giggle. How cute.

However, he just stood there, staring out at the pool that was so close yet so far. Maybe he felt put off by the number of people there.

Taking matters into her own hands, Niko tried to lead them closer to the pool, but found that the droves of people who were already there difficult to navigate. She managed to bypass a few of them, but soon found it hard to actually get near the exhibit. Her lips curled to the side in annoyance as she tried to think about how to get to the exhibit.

Then, she felt someone take her hand. Niko looked up in surprise to see Risotto by her side, taking her hand gently as he began to wade through the crowd with her in tow, people parting as a hulking 6’8” man strode over to the manta ray pool. No one there decided that it was worth getting in his way, especially as he occasionally let out quiet, polite “excuse me, pardon me”s as he made his way over.

As Niko followed him through the crowd, she had a thought. Throughout the date, he hadn’t tried to make contact with her at all. Now that she thought about it, he had kept a respectful distance from her the entire time.

She let that fact wash over her as they approached the pool. Manta rays were swimming serenely through the clear water, occasionally breaking the surface of the water, excited for more pets.

Risotto had already dipped his hands into the cold water, gently stroking the creature as it passed by. A soft smile graced his features, dimples forming on his cheeks.

The sight was something Niko wanted to commit to memory.

Noticing that she had yet to join him, he removed his hand from the pool to look at his date. What he was met with was a soft, nearly reverent look on her face, dust blushing her cheeks. Upon realizing that he was looking directly at her, Niko gave him an awkward grin, hastily kneeling down with him to start babbling about how cute the rays were.

“…sorry.”

That cut her ramble short. “Huh? About what?”

“I should have asked first.”

His heart was thrumming in his chest as he searched her expression for any change. She looked confused for the barest of seconds before realization lit her features.

“Oh. Oh! That!” Niko quickly took her hand out of the pool, but thought better of shaking her hands in front of her like she usually did. “No, no – don’t worry about that!” She laughed, the sound causing a tentative warmth to blossom in his chest. “I really didn’t mind. It was…it was nice.” She emphasized her point with a shy but honest smile that caused the warmth in his chest to go into full bloom.

His eyes softened at her gentle expression, the soft look on her face looking like the most natural thing in the world. Risotto grunted an affirmative, finding words to be difficult.

As they walked away from the petting pool and dried off their hands, Niko spoke up.

“You know…to be honest, I wasn’t so sure about this. It’s been awhile since I’ve gone on a date, and this was my first blind date. I was ready to kill Mimi!” she admitted with a laugh, miming strangling motions. “No offense.”

“None taken.” His chuckle was nearly inaudible, but she didn’t miss the amusement in his voice.

Her smile grew wide, toothy and easy. “But this was nice. Real nice.”

“It was.” Risotto returned the smile, however subtle the change in his expression was. “I’ll admit this was…an experience. But I enjoyed it.”

At that, Niko laughed lightly and reached out to take his hand. Risotto noted the hesitation in her actions, the pause lasting no longer than a second. But in the end, he could feel his hand in hers, warm and comforting, like that was where it belonged.

He smiled at the feeling.

“Let’s go get lunch?” she asked, tilting her head at him.

His hand tightened around hers, just so.

“Let’s.”

As they walked towards their destination, they discussed restaurants, going over their options and bantering all the way there, the sound of her laughter echoing down the street.

[sanjuno]

This started as a joke, but Dragon!Skies 😅

(Ideas of March Prompt Fill 9/15)

It was impossible to hide a Sky when they manifested, given the way they were immediately encased in an indestructible crystalline eggshell that glittered and shone with a thousand shades of the Rainbow. There was some debate, in the Alliance, over which Sky had cracked their shell at the youngest age. Xanxus di Vongola had already manifested and learned how to control his Flames when he was taken in off the streets at eight. Still, some of the Giglio Nero Donna’s had Manifested that young too. Reborn glared at the pathetic excuse for a personality profile Bakamitsu had dropped into his hands and wondered what the gossips would say if they learned the Young Lion’s spawn had cracked his shell at four.

/…/

Reborn had not quite known what to expect when he arrived in Namimori to teach Sawada Tsunayoshi the laws and customs of his father’s culture so that the boy could take his place as the Vongola Heir. The CEDEF report had listed Tsuna as easily distracted, high-strung, shy, and constantly anxious. Whatever Reborn had thought to expect, it was nothing like this.

A young Misty Cloud was snarling at him, with a smallish army of lesser Flames following his lead. The Sky Reborn had come here to teach was all-but smothered in the arms of two girls, a Sunny Mist and a Misty Lightning respectively. Just in front of the huddle a Misty Rain bounced a sword against his shoulder, smiling like a natural hitman, and a Misty Sun cracked his wrapped knuckles with a shining grin, both with hints of Lightning crackling through them. Behind the main cluster a Stormy Cloud stood with her feet planted and arms crossed, scowl firmly on her face. She was the only one bound directly to the Sky without a hint of Mist in her.

This was bad. Reborn was no good with unanchored Mist-magnets. Although he was going to look into what had made his new student so determined to hide from reality, that would have to wait. Right now Reborn needed a way to get his new student to focus without drifting back into the Dreaming a Sky with too many Mists was prone to.

What to do?

Hm. Perhaps Reborn should try going the traditional route. The Japanese liked tradition, right?

Now, who did Reborn know that would be a shiny enough distraction for a Sky of Tsuna’s potential strength?

… Ah. Yes, that would do nicely.

/…/

At first Reborn had debated dropping the bait in front of Tsuna in class, but as hilarious as that might have been at another time, nothing Tsuna had done so far was in any way predictable. As much as Reborn was enjoying both the chaos that followed his new student and the challenge of figuring out Namimori’s secrets, Reborn would never risk actually breaking Omertà.

So Reborn decided to do some creative editing with his first idea and rewrote the scene he had initially had in mind for maximum effect.

/…/

At first Tsuna had no idea what to make of his new home tutor. Reborn was tiny as an infant but was actually older than Tsuna’s parents and the first thing Reborn had tried to do was shoot him in the head and if Kyouya-sempai had been even a little bit slower… 

Reborn insisted that the bullets would not have killed him, but Tsuna really, really did not want to be shot even non-fatally by someone who was visibly plotting messy murder every time Tsuna’s dad came up in the conversation. Sure, Reborn was better about treating Tsuna fairly now that they had gotten to know each other a bit better, but Tsuna still could not shake the feeling that if Tsuna had been a disappointing student Reborn would have taken his dislike for Iemitsu out of Tsuna’s hide. What was strange, and also worrisome, to consider was that Reborn was apparently here as a favour for Tsuna’s father. Why Reborn was doing favours for a man he visibly and verbally disdained was a question Tsuna was not certain he wanted answered.

If Tsuna got too nosy then Reborn might stop being polite about Tsuna’s secrets, and Tsuna’s secrets were not just about him. So Tsuna was content to let the unspoken truce hold.

“Let’s go, Tsuna.” Reborn toddled cheerfully towards the park, and Tsuna felt a sudden chill when he realized that all of his treasures were nowhere nearby. “We have a meeting.”

“Wait, Reborn!” Someone only less than two feet tall should not be capable of dragging four times their bodyweight down the street. This was unfair. Tsuna squeaked as he tripped and scrambled to stay upright. “What meeting?”

“A personal meeting.” Dark eyes gleamed from under the shade of his fedora, and Reborn smirked before letting Tsuna go. “Watch and learn something, Dame-Tsuna.”

/…/

There was a slim figure lounging in the shade of a sakura tree, dapples of light catching on silver chains and coloured stones. “Reborn.”

“Smoking Bomb.” Reborn hopped down off Tsuna’s shoulder to approach the younger hitman. Normally Reborn liked to work his students into a frenzy first to teach them how to think through their initial instinct to panic, but Tsuna was the type to need plain statements. So while the idea all but gave Reborn hives, he was going to show his silly student that someone Tsuna’s own age could earn and keep respect in their world before he started training Tsuna to fight. “You made good time.”

“You made me an offer worthy of a little extra effort.” Stepping out into the light, the explosive expert’s narrowed green eyes raked over Tsuna with clear interest. “A new student?”

“You see now why I asked for speed.” Reborn hid his triumph as the bomber hummed absently and handed over the information Reborn had asked him to gather. Pulling the strings to get Shamal’s protege to come to Namimori personally had been worth it, especially since Reborn had taken the calculated risk of not mentioning he was tutoring a Sky. Smoking Bomb was clearly interested in Tsuna despite managing to stay professional. That was almost secondary to the report the younger hitman had put together on the state of the Alliance and and a bluntly analytical profile on Sawada Iemitsu. This was the kind of report Reborn had been expecting from the CEDEF. “Hm. You do good work, Smoking Bomb. The money will be in your account by tonight, and I will ask my daughter if she would like to meet with your sister.”

“It’s appreciated, Reborn.” Business concluded, there was no reason to linger and every reason to leave, but the silver haired teen hesitated, just as Reborn had expected. The silence stretched just a bit to long as Smoking Bomb stared at Reborn’s student with intent eyes. Finally, the younger hitman shook his head. “Name’s Gokudera Hayato, called the Smoking Bomb. I work freelance, so if you need a job done Reborn can put you in touch with me. Ciao.”

Inclining his head in a quick acknowledgement, the silver haired teen moved to depart before he embarrassed himself. Reborn saw the regret sear itself across Tsuna’s face and took the shot.

Bang!

Gokudera whirled around, face slack with horror as the Sky crumpled.

One knee on the ground, Tsuna’s hand closed around the bomber’s wrist. Gokudera froze in place, arms still out to catch the other boy. 

Reborn peered up at his student in confusion. Tsuna had been oddly quiet since the first time Gokudera had spoken, and now that he had finally managed to hit Tsuna with the special bullet Reborn had been expecting more in the way of ardent declarations. There were no Flames, and Tsuna’s clothes had remained intact. Instead of Hyper Dying Will mode, Tsuna was giving off the impression of a sealed pot set to boil, building pressure that was about to…

BOOM!!

… explode. On his back in the bushes several meters from where he had been standing, Reborn blinked rapidly as his ears rang in the aftermath of Tsuna going up like a small atom bomb made of Flames. Ow.

/…/

Mine. 

Rusted chains falling away, too-small cage finally broken open. 

Mine.

Free for the first time since his father and the old man had tried to damp his inner fire.

Mine.

His heart beating all out of rhythm as he scrambled to catch the fragile treasure fallen into his grasp without causing damage. Something precious and unique, old hurts gleaming silver and gold where the scars had healed over.

“Mine.” Tsuna curled in on himself, wanting to gather his new treasure close but terrified of sending shattered pieces scattering into dust. “Please?”

Sprawled out in the gentle cradle of Tsuna’s paws, Gokudera was a crimson opal, fractals of violet-blue-green-gold flaring in brilliant colour against the amber of Tsuna’s claws. “… Eh?”

“Please?” A whine was building in Tsuna’s throat. How was he supposed to ask? His other treasures had always been his. They had helped Tsuna chip away at the fetters his father had laid on Tsuna’s inner fire. They had been there to help despite Tsuna being crippled and weak. He was supposed to defend his hoard, but they defended Tsuna too. Tsuna had the best hoard, and he had never before considered wanting more but… “Mine.”

“… my Sky is a UMA?” Pale, scarred fingers pressing against Tsuna’s muzzle, patting gently like his pretty treasure thought Tsuna might reject the touch. The silver haired teen was mumbling in strange tongues even as he relaxed into the Harmony Tsuna offered, touch growing more sure as Tsuna pulled Gokudera closer. 

Rumbling happily, Tsuna coiled up around the newest member of his hoard and simply basked smugly in his triumph. Tsuna had the best hoard. He bet nobody else had a treasure with five colours. Ha!

/…/

Up a nearby tree and not planning to climb down any time soon, Reborn stared in utter shock as the giant supernatural lizard that was supposed to be his student cuddled the Hurricane of Flames most of the gossip painted as too complicated to ever properly bond. Well, Tsuna was happily proving them wrong, even if he did currently look like something that belonged in an illuminated book of fairy tales.

Sure, Skies hatched from eggs when they woke their Flames and they were jealous of their Guardian’s attention and tended to collect large amounts of wealth, but… yeah. Never mind, Reborn was not even convincing himself that this was impossible.

What the hell had caused the transformation though? Reborn had shot other Skies with the special bullets, and none of them had physically transformed into dragons. What was different about Tsuna? What the fuck else had Bakamitsu left out of his report?

/…/

Half a world away, an old man ruled his Family with a kind smile and an iron Will. He hoped Reborn took to young Tsunayoshi. While it was regrettable that he had needed to Seal the child back then, at the time it had been for the greater good of the Family. A Sky that pure and that strong would have attracted too much attention and destabilized the succession. The situation with Xanxus had been bad enough, and he as still dealing with the fallout from the public backlash of claiming the boy even years later. 

Still, Reborn would be able to teach Tsunayoshi enough to get by as the new Heir despite the Seal. It was a moot point anyway. Hyper Dying Will mode would break the Seal on Tsunayoshi’s Flames, and Reborn would be able to claim the credit for the boy’s eventual strength.

After all, the only ones who knew Tsunayoshi had woken his Flames once before were Iemitsu and himself, and Iemitsu knew better than to spread that information around. Sealed or latent, who would be able to tell after Tsunayoshi was Active without knowing that little fact? It would all work out for the better this way.

/…/

Under the Iron Fort, a glacier strung with chains sat in the centre of the darkened catacombs. The ice shuddered, cracked.

Shattered. 

Ice vanished into steam as a nightmare of blood-amber scales unfurled massive wings with a scream of enraged triumph.

=/=

So it turns out that sealing an Active Sky equals dragons when the seal goes away! The More You Know.

Welcome to the Godzilla Threshold, Timoteo. *blows kisses*

[littlepurinsesu]

In Regards to Hugs: No

Title: In Regards to Hugs: No Fandom: Yuri on Ice Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri Katsuki, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Seung Gil Lee, Emil Nekola, Michele Crispino, Sara Crispino, Victor Nikiforov Relationships: Yuri Plisetsky & Yuuri Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Swearing

*Read on AO3*

Summary: The pork cutlet bowl goes on a hugging spree. It’s disgusting and traumatising and Yuri Plisetsky could have sworn that he saw his life flash before his eyes, but he thinks he understands.

Author’s Notes: The hug scene in Episode 9 has always been one of my favourite moments in the anime. It’s so hilarious and adorable, but there’s also so much potential for some friendship feels between Yuuri and Yurio. So this went from a simple fanfic-isation of the hug scene to a full-fledged fic that got a lot more serious than what I had in mind when I started the piece. Mostly canon compliant, but lots of filling in the gaps to really bring out the relationship between the two Yuris. Because Yurio is an angry tsundere who will never admit how much he cares for his Katsudon.

Silver.

Whether it was the colour or its symbolic value or simply the word itself, Yuri Plisetsky was not happy with it.

He had worked his ass off and almost busted his lungs to execute a perfect free skate performance. For fuck’s sake, he’d even earned himself a new personal best. Yet apparently none of that was enough to stop that Canadian sucker from pushing him to the right side of the podium again. Second for the second time, and Yuri could not be more displeased—with himself, with that jackass, and with practically everyone, because there wasn’t a single person who didn’t piss him off right now.

I’ll destroy that shithead at the Finals. Fucking watch me. Knife shoes or not, I’ll fucking end him.

Yuri’s brows were knitted tightly together and his heavy steps reverberated menacingly as he tramped down the hallway. The aura he was radiating was enough to keep any unwanted people at bay.

‘Unwanted people’ did not include a certain pork cutlet bowl, though. After that frustratingly underwhelming free skate, Yuri had come to the conclusion that he probably needed to give him a good talk (complete with a kick or two) to get him back on track. Maybe he’ll yell at him about this later before the Japanese skater returned home the next day or something.

Yuri rounded a corner in the maze of corridors, hoping to bump into absolutely no one, when lo and behold, who should he chance upon but Yuuri Katsuki himself. The fourth-placer was standing near the wall in a daze, eyes seemingly fixed on nothing in particular as he stared absently into the distance. It was almost odd to not see the balding man-child draped around his shoulders, trying to cheer him up or talk some sense into him. But then again, if that man-child had been present, Yuuri wouldn’t have placed fourth to begin with. Yuri knew this for a fact, because goddamnit, Yuuri Katsuki was better than this.

He was pondering the possibility of giving that pep talk right here and right now when the Crispino twins approached, occupied with some small disagreement that Yuri didn’t care about.

‘Yuuri!’ Sara called suddenly as the pair neared the pork cutlet bowl. She speed-walked the final steps to close the distance, leaving her scowling sibling behind. ‘Congrats on qualifying for the Grand Prix Final! I knew you’d make it.’ She extended her arms warmly, as though welcoming a friendly embrace.

Oh, boy. That obsessive freak of a brother is not going to take this well.

Sure enough, within milliseconds, Michele Crispino had marched right up to them, mouth set in an angular frown. ‘Sara!’ he complained.

Had Sara been asking for a hug? Or had she simply been holding her arms out as a strange gesture of congratulatory pride? Yuri had not quite wrapped his head around the mixed social cues when he saw Yuuri fling his arms around the woman’s slender frame.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed.

Congrats on qualifying for the Final? More like congrats on digging your own grave, Katsudon.

Yuri had to press his lips together to suppress his vindictive snicker as Michele visibly bristled, before squawking out an exclamation of the utmost rage. The flower bouquet he had been holding moments ago went flying as he raised his fists in the air. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?!’ he demanded, with perhaps a little too much passion and force in his voice. If the disturbed Italian man had yelled any louder or harder, Yuri was sure he would have ruptured a vein in his neck.

Yet no horror movie Yuri Plisetsky had mistakenly watched while curled up on the couch in the wee hours of the night could have prepared him for what happened next.

Yuuri Katsuki opened his eyes—if they could still even be called eyes—revealing one of the most terrifyingly lifeless expressions Yuri had ever seen. It was dark and vacant and enough to send an unnerving chill slithering down his spine.

This dangerous gaze was slowly pointed at Michele as Yuuri let go of Sara and latched himself onto her fuming brother instead.

‘Eh?’ Michele spared less than two seconds comprehending his situation before completely losing it. He flailed his arms uselessly, eyes swirling and shoulders practically vibrating as he released a shriek so high-pitched that Yuri had to wonder if it were even possible for a person with a Y chromosome. It was one of the most hilarious cries of distress Yuri had ever been fortunate enough to overhear, and the teen had no shame in his lack of guilt as he mentally thanked the deities for granting him the privilege of witnessing such a spectacle. By now, Yuri was unsure whether he was watching a horror movie or a comedy show.

His amusement was short-lived, however, as a concerned voice rang out from around the corner of the hallway. ‘Was that Mickey screaming?’

A bearded face and a head of chestnut brown hair came into view as Emil Nekola emerged, voice as gallant as a knight’s, ready to sweep his comrade away from danger.

Your comrade has fucking bubbles coming out of his mouth.

Yuri wished he had been joking, but there was no mistake in the scene unfolding before him: Yuuri clutching a mass of glittering purple as Michele lay limp in his arms, eyes blank in a traumatised stupor and a steady flow of froth gurgling at his mouth. The predator now turned those same soulless eyes in Emil’s direction. He put an end to Michele’s misery and freed the foaming man from his grasp, ignoring the dull thud as his body hit the floor and his sister rushed to his aid.

Yuuri’s steps were frantic as he sprinted into Emil’s arms, and Yuri was not so preoccupied with the Italian siblings to miss the ease and amicability with which the Czech man returned the embrace.

‘What’s this? A hugging competition?’ he questioned, cheerful and relaxed as he held Yuuri snug in his arms.

Does the idiot not realise that he currently has a fucking zombie hugger hanging off his shoulders?

Ignorance is bliss, Yuri decided, and he really would feel bad for Emil’s poor cluelessness if he had known the bearded sunshine a little better. But alas, hugs and sunshine really weren’t the Ice Tiger’s forte, so Yuri was content to stand away from the commotion and assume that Emil’s smile was of genuine mirth and not, in fact, a disguised plea for help.

Emil’s beaming face was so bright that Yuri was beginning to feel the need to whip out a pair of sunglasses, so he was quite relieved when the apathetic Korean man appeared and restored some much-needed balance. Seung Gil Lee approached as silently as a skulking cat, but even his phantom presence didn’t escape the hugging maniac. There was an ominous glint in Yuuri’s eyes as he ended the hug with Emil and rounded on his fellow Asian skater instead, tackling him in an unsolicited embrace.

The poor man had no idea what hit him.

Seung Gil failed to register the situation enough to utter some hostile remark about wanting to be left alone, instead only managing to choke out a feeble noise as his face darkened in a manifestation of revulsion and fright. Yuri watched on with a strange mixture of both hilarity and sympathy as Seung Gil’s hands hovered awkwardly about Yuuri’s shoulders, clearly wanting to place them anywhere but on the Japanese man’s body.

At this point, Yuri, being the graciously kind and angelic soul he was, considered stepping in to rescue poor Seung Gil from his predicament and officially putting an end to this mayhem. Agape, right? Unconditional love for all, including those who were suffering. And these people were definitely suffering.

But then Jean-Jacques Leroy sauntered idiotically down the hallway, his unwelcome entrance topped with an equally unattractive smirk as his gold medal flashed obnoxiously from around his neck. The image itself was enough to set Yuri’s teeth on edge again, and the Ice Tiger of Russia internally swore for the umpteenth time that he would wipe that repulsive grin off the fucker’s sorry little face when he knocked him off the podium at the Finals.

And suddenly, the idea of demonstrating his agape didn’t seem like Yuri Plisetsky’s top priority anymore.

Ah, what the fuck. Who am I to deprive Katsudon of another hug? Jean-Jacques fucking Leroy, it’s your time to shine.

There was an irritating swagger in JJ’s gait as he breezed towards them, no doubt engaged in some unintelligent conversation (or monologue, Yuri notes) about his supposed superiority.

‘JJ is—mmph!’

What exactly is JJ? The world may never know. And Yuri had never felt so eternally grateful for the hero that is Yuuri Katsuki, the awe-inspiring saviour who had just rescued humanity from the agony of having to hear JJ speak more than two words at a time. The Japanese skater had thrown his arms around JJ’s build and effectively silenced the lanky idiot, whose mouth was now stretched into the most ridiculously hideous expression Yuri had ever laid eyes on. It was so ugly and so stupid, and it brought Yuri so much joy.

Oh my god. Yuuri Katsuki, you are the light of my life. Holy shit you amazing—

He had spoken too soon.

Yuuri turned.

Huh?

His soulless eyes bore into his final target.

The fuck are you staring at, asshole?

As though in slow motion, Yuuri began to move in his direction.

What the actual fuck? Wait, no. Don’t you fucking think about it, you—shit, no. No! NO!

‘HUHHH?! STAY AWAY FROM ME!!!’ Yuri could hear the cry tearing from his throat as he turned on his heel and fled for dear life.

This is it. This is how it all ends. Yuuri Katsuki was closing the distance with his arms outstretched, and Yuri, the poor deer caught in the headlights, stood no chance against that man’s damnable stamina.

Yuri could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes. All the laughter and tears, blood and sweat, love and loss. Every promise he had made to himself and every dream that had yet to come true.

It was all over for Yuri Plisetsky, and at such a young age, too.

What will happen after he is gone? Will the world remember him? Who will feed Puma Tiger Scorpion? His final performance on the ice had suffered a maddening defeat, and he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to his grandfather…

The image of his grandfather’s smiling face faded and reality gradually shifted back into focus. Yuri was now acutely aware of his surroundings: a dimly lit hallway, the stares of puzzled onlookers, and a pair of arms wrapped tightly around him from behind.

He could not recall when his legs had finally stopped scissoring through air or even begin to fathom why he wasn’t struggling, but Yuuri’s grip was unrelenting as he held the teen’s body firmly against his chest, face buried into his shoulder. Yuri felt a slight tremble in the unsteady rise and fall of the older man’s breathing, and the fingers squeezing even tighter around his upper arms made him swallow the aggressive protest that had been stirring at the base of his tongue. There was a certain sense of unhappiness in the embrace, a kind of loneliness, as though Yuuri was trying desperately to seek out something that he just couldn’t find in any of his previous victims. And from the way his frenzied breathing was failing to slow or even out, Yuri knew that he wasn’t the one, either.

‘The one’? Fuck, sounds like some kind of shitty romance story. That kind of crap belongs in the gross ass world of you and Victor, not—

That was it, wasn’t it? That’s what Yuuri was longing for.

Yuri was no fool. He was very much aware of the reason behind Yuuri’s less than stellar free skate earlier on. The pork cutlet bowl could do so much better, like those times when he had captivated the proud teen prodigy with his entrancing step sequences and flawless spins. Today had obviously not been one of those days, and everyone in the audience and their dogs had probably figured out why.

Silly Katsudon. You won’t find what you’re looking for here… Not even with me, because I’m not him.

Yuri wondered briefly if his part in this sordid hug fest was longer than the others’, or if he had simply lost track of time while fighting between the impulse to kick and shout and the strange urge to reciprocate this one-sided hug. But even if the angry Russian boy were to swivel around and uncharacteristically wrap his arms around Yuuri’s drooping body, it still wouldn’t change anything, would it? He wasn’t the one Yuuri needed right now.

There were many things in this world—perhaps too many, if he was willing to admit so himself—that provoked Yuri Plisetsky’s anger, but never had he considered that this could be one of them. The Yuuri Katsuki he knew could often be a flustered ball of anxiety and insecurity, or sometimes a sensual skater oozing enough sex appeal to rival Christophe Giacometti, and always a kind and simple boy who was sincere, hardworking, and charismatic. Not… whatever this was. This mopey, depressed loser who couldn’t get his shit together and act like the fucking champion Yuri knew he could be. And although this time it wasn’t the Japanese champion’s own fault, it was an infuriating reminder of the cowardly sobs Yuri had heard in the bathroom stall at the Sochi Grand Prix Final, and he hated it. He hated it with his guts, and if he could do something within his power to bring Yuuri back to normal or raise his spirits again, he would fucking do it. Heck, if he could give the pork cutlet bowl something to make him feel warm and safe, to make him feel at home again, then goddamnit, he would give him anything.

But he couldn’t do what Victor does best, nor could he give Yuuri the sense of security he craved, and that upset Yuri even more than the silver medal he had taken off immediately after the ceremony. And before he even realised that he was slowly raising his hand to offer Yuuri a gentle but awkward pat on the arm, the pork cutlet bowl had released him and begun to shuffle away.

Yuri was joined by an assembly of hug victims as they stood, united in their mutual confusion and concern for Yuuri’s behaviour. Michele was wedged between Sara and Emil as they supported his weight (the dumbass still couldn’t even stand on his own); Seung Gil had deigned to situate himself with actual people, risking the possibility of further human interaction; and Yuri himself was miraculously standing less than half a metre from JJ without the temptation to claw his ugly face off.

And as he watched the zombie hugger’s retreating form, slumped and downcast and in desperate need of… of something, Yuri Plisetsky made up his mind. He may not be a certain silver-haired old man, but someone needed to be there for Yuuri right now, and Yuri swore on his skating career that he would fight anyone who dared to jump in for the job before him.

The brown paper bag would probably be slightly soggy and the contents cold by now, but Yuri had many fond memories of his grandfather handing him the steaming pirozhki when he needed a bit of comfort or love. Plus, the ones sitting in his bag weren’t just any ordinary pirozhki, they were katsudon pirozhki—an affectionate invention of his grandfather’s to remind him of the unforgettable taste he had experienced in Hasetsu. And they would serve just as well as a small token of home for the lonely Japanese man as he spent his final night in this foreign country.

‘Where are you going, little Yuri-chan?’

Under any other circumstances, Yuri would probably have grabbed his skates and hurled them at JJ’s face for that wording (not really—his knife shoes were precious and expensive), but tonight, Yuri had more important things to do. The pirozhki were getting soggier and colder with each minute he wasted, but he was sure that they would still taste absolutely divine and hopefully put the smile back on the pork cutlet bowl’s dumb face.

And anyway, it’s not like he had marked Yuuri’s birthday on his phone and had been saving the pirozhki for him in the first place, thank you very much.