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anarchyincarnate · 3 years ago

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A sinners fate

Pairing; Dainsleif X Amab!reader

C/w; Slight spoilers for 2.6 archon quest, ooc! Dainsleif [probably], lovemaking, biting, praises, Author not knowing how to fucking write dialogue, cheesiness?, Semi-public sex?, Dacrophilia

Finding themselves inside the eerily quiet chasm, the sounds of clashing stones filled their ears. It was a miracle none of the acolytes noticed their absence from the temple, sneaking off to search gems inside Liyue's main mine.

A heavy grunt brought them out of their daydreaming, listening in to the familiar voice of a certain bough keeper.

"Halfdan, I wish you a peaceful transition into the afterlife, Old friend..." He mumbled, raising his hand to brush up his sweat damped hair. The smell of Creator's cologne hit his nose. A gentle scent of the ocean and freshly picked Cecilias.

Turning his head around, he came face to face with Creator. The latter perched atop a small boulder, examining a piece of Archaic Stone they hold between their fingertips.

"Hello to you too, Dainsleif." their bored tone caught his attention. His pupils constricted slightly, taking in the blue glow that covered their entire being.

He noticed the small gem on their belt, similar to the vanquishing torch Traveler brought to help explore the chasm.

"Creator, what are you doing here?" He asked the god in front of him. Despite his distaste towards the Divine, He can never actively show his hatred towards them. Perhaps he saw how you truly wish the twins were reunited with one another, perhaps he felt the genuine pity and anger that boiled from their very core when they learned about the tragedy that befell Khaenri'ah? He's not entirely sure. They stayed silent at his question.

"C'mere." They ordered, placing the now polished gemstone into their pocket. He obeyed, making his way towards them, their eyes noticing the slight limp he had.

"The shaking and screams I heard were horrific to say the least. May those who have perished today be rebirthed into a world without cruelty." He couldn't believe his ears, did it deceive him? You. A deity above all, wished for a new chance to the sinners who died?

"Your honor, Why...?"

"hmm? What do you mean?" They arched their brow up, noticing the bough keeper placing his head onto their lap. Dainsleif looked exhausted, the curse and aftermath of the incident took a large toll on his body. Their hand intertwined with his, rubbing the abyssal blue knuckles.

"Why... Are you wishing for a new life to us sinners? We were cursed for living a life away from worshipping you." They noticed a small tear peeking through his eyelids.

"I'm not mad at that, quite the contrary in fact. Khaenri'ah was the symbol of unwavering humanity, having faith that they can survive without submitting themselves to the Divine. Unchained to lies Celestia pour into the minds of others, standing tall and proud on their own." They marvelled at how different Khaenri'ah was. It's a shame that those who survived having everything taken away from them, turned into a monster, something that doesn't resemble human.

"I'm proud of your people. I'm proud of every single one of you who fought with all your might against those who try to destroy the empire." They complemented, wiping away the small tears running down his cheeks.

"Allow me to show you my gratitude, okay? Consider it my thank you for your bravery."

----------------------------------------------------------

The red mark on his collarbone was one of many. Painting the blue and pale body of Khaenri'ah's twilight sword, they brushed their lips against his shoulder, nibbling at the rough and marked skin.

Their hands expertly guided him through his orgasm. The thick and red cockhead of his poured globs of sticky cum onto the ground.

Long have his clothes shed off his built body. The two entangled in the others warm grasp, not denying their carnal desires that swirl inside their bellies.

Dainsleif wanted more, yet he can't bring himself to voice his needs, feeling bad about wanting more from a deity he never once believed in. A part of him trembles over the fact that you were kind. Kind to a sinner like him, a man who shouldn't be near you, guilty over his people's action towards your status.

"Let your voice out, Dain. Let me hear you."

Their whisper flood into his ears, hands tenderly twist and play with his nipple. The other wrapped itself onto his shaft, slowly stroking the fairly large appendage while their mouth busied themselves with his own.

Tounges entangled, dancing inside the wet cavern if his, struggling to breathe in the thin air around them.

"It's amazing how much you've gone through, I can't imagine how traumatic it must've been," a whimper escaped his mouth. They stared into his galactic blue eyes with such sincerity, it's hard for him to keep his composure.

Tears fall down his cheeks, with them gently kissing it away. He felt overwhelmed by the tender love they gave him.

"C-Creator-! W-Why are you doing this with me-e!? I've committed so many crimes against you-! I do not deserve your kind--NESS~!" He screamed out, as clear ropes of cum spewed out of his cock.

His face flushed red, expression faltered, leaving behind the face of a touch starved man. Chuckling at his expression, they couldn't help but coo at him.

"You do deserve this, all of this. The crimes you've committed against me are miniscule compared to what I've done in the past." They said, moving him slightly so that his body is facing them.

"If you call yourself a sinner, then I'm a Devil by your standard." They giggled out, thick cock slowly pushing into the blonde man.

He moaned, hands wrapping themselves on their back, the claw slightly digging into their skin. He knows he shouldn't hold them quite hard, but with their soothing kisses on his shoulder, and the stinging yet bearable stretch inside him he couldn't help wanting to hold them close.

Once they bottomed out, they sighed in relief, rubbing small circles into his hips, trying to distract him from the pain. They know their big, Childe himself said it, so they try to make sure they aren't overwhelming him.

"Shh, it's alright, it's okay... You do not need to be insecure with me, you can let it all out."

And so, he did. Slowly, they move his hips up and down, bringing pleasure to them both, with how full he felt, he quickly finished.

Translucent cum sprayed their abdomen, with them chuckling at him. Luckily they were close as well, and with a few thrusts, they spilled their cum inside him.

Dainsleif felt calm for the first time in five centuries, he felt safe caged inside their strong arms. Traveler did tell him stories about sparring sessions you two would have behind Zhongli's back, knowing well that The Archon forbade you from wielding a weapon.

They say it's for Creator's safety, that they can just protect them and that there's no need for them to wield it.

Dainsleif knows how suffocating it must be for you, he pitied you, and so, he planned the keep you here with him for the time being...

#genshin sagau #sub genshin #genshin impact cult au #sagau smut #dainsleif smut #genshin

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

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Hello, I have been looking at your content and I must say that I really like the way you write and I hope you are doing well.I don't know if your applications are open now but I want to give you an idea, how would the yanders react if their beloved has depressive periods and low self-esteem?It may be a bit of an anguish at first but I would like how they would react, use it on purpose or go soft on their beloved.

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: depression, self-harm, abuse, manipulation, abuse, profanity, amnesia, anxiety, panic-attacks, arson, bipolar disorder, blood, death threats, eating disorder, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, mental illness, mind control, paranoia, noncon, dubcon, starvation, suicidal ideation, trauma

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

MELANCHOLIA –

She’s always biting her tongue, the inside of her cheek, her lip. So much so, he doesn’t even know what her lip normally looks like without it being bloated and swollen and red from having her teeth sink into to it. He’s okay with her chosen silence as long as she answers when she’s spoken to, which she does, lacking the will to refuse, knowing it will only cost her valuable energy, energy she needs in case Bakugo decides he wants to rip the breath from her lungs while he hunches over her, his hips snapping into her again and again, ramming at a pace so rough she both dreads it and welcomes it, for on the one hand it’s exhausting and she always wakes up with aches in the morning, yet on the other hand he makes her appreciate breathing which is always a nice reminder when she often times wonders what tranquility would be found in not breathing whatsoever.

He doesn’t want to confront her about it, sensing how she might not enjoy confrontation all that much, and not really wanting the whole ordeal to result in making her cry at the mere sound of his voice. He won’t alter the volume or the roughness of his tone, no matter how many times she cringes at how loud he’s being, but he does try being gentle, at least with his criticism. He showers her in compliments, which is a huge contrast to how he would usually handle fixing things. But, he finds using softer methods benefit him as well, loving the blush that adorns her face each time he does so, his own confidence probably boosting more so than hers.

He does nice things, not really knowing what or which way to help. He doesn’t make her do any chores, ignoring the nagging feeling that keeping her busy would probably help more so than having her sit and look cute all day, but… he’s afraid of admitting it, but… he quite likes taking care of her. He quite likes hugging her throughout the night, feeling her small tremoring sobs against him while stroking her back. He likes comforting her on those same nights where she wakes abruptly from some nightmare, stroking glossy diamond tears away from her cheeks, loving her bloated lips and that cute red wet irritation flushed on her nose and cheeks.

The only times he gets upset with her is when she refuses to eat. He tries so hard to make things she might like, but it’s scarce he sees her taking more than a few bites, if she makes a move to eat at all. He doesn’t want to make her cry, despite it being a constant hobby of hers, he doesn’t want to be the reason to her crying, but… he can’t have her starving. He finds the fear-tactic surprisingly effective on someone who spends most their time fantasizing about death. A few sparks in his palms has her all but quaking, scared half-way into catatonia or even comatose, so much so he has to pull her into his lap and spoon-feed her. Not that he minds that either, he comes to enjoy it quite a lot actually. How her small frame melts so perfectly against his chest, legs swung over his lap, head on his shoulder, remnants of her fear-stricken cries still evident as small spontaneous jolts run through her, being slowly comforted away with the same hand that caused the trouble in the first place.

DABI - TODORKI TOUYA

ANXIETY –

He couldn’t be happier with his little ball of blue wrapped up in soft-tinted crushed dreams with a heart made of honeycombs and dandelion-fluff. Whereas his misfortunate lack of happiness stems from a place of violence, where violence breeds violence, she’s nothing but a tender trauma. Such a soft despair, such a sweet despair, such perfection found in something so devastating. It’s artwork really. How she can cry herself to sleep, trapped in his arms, feeling as though she’s dying, yet wake up the next morning all velvety and soft in his arms, her heart finding comfort in what her mind rejects, what her mind fears.

He tries being a source of comfort for the most part, but teasing and haunting and poking fun at her is such a delicious past-time he cannot simply just refrain from. He’ll be a real villain about it at times. Having her as a complete blubbering pathetic hiccupping mess, poking fun at her crybaby-face as he licks the tears from her cheeks and gorges himself in her panic, his fingers dancing small patterns on her stomach as she wiggles beneath him.

She used to be so scared of him. So skittish and paralyzed, cold-sweating and eyes constantly leaking he had to imagine what her eyes would look like without being rimmed with red. She used to shiver and shake and quake and reel in on herself, curl up until her limbs ached from how small she was trying to make herself become, backed up into the corner beneath his shadow, his leather-boots looking like the onset of everything horrific as she coward in front of them. But wild untrusting childlike beings such as her is quick in nature to tether themselves to the first or only source of light. And though the transition was slow, her anxiety soon shifted from being directed at him and soon for him instead.

It was too easy, and it benefitted him so undeservingly as well it was cruel. How he simply took all those fears of hers, all those fears for everything residing in the new foreign room she’d been taken captive in, manipulating them into becoming paranoia for everything found outside the bedroom door instead. He went from being the source of her dread, of her panic, of her misery, of her pitter-patter heart and shattering teeth to her savior. Soothing her in her frenzied quakes as she spluttered on sobs containing what hellish monsters and dangers found outside, begging him to be careful, to come back to her, to stay.

She will hug him close throughout the night, hanging almost like a noose around his neck when he needs to leave in the mornings, tracing his scars with a stream of endless worried thoughts blubbering in her groggy voice. And he’ll humor her worry and tame the oncoming panic-attacks by giving her a little light-show of blue flames in his palm, words of his own coming to assure her how nothing will ever happen to him and how he will never let anything ever happen to her, assuring however many times he has the time for.

She’s too cute it’s unfair. Unfair that small creatures like her exist without anything to protect them from hungry wolves like him. And though he was never the type to fantasize about clingy things, he has to admit… coming home to someone who lunches at him in the most secure yet clumsy and desperate embrace, he feels as though that feeling of coming home is all he’ll ever need in the world, that she’s all he’ll ever need.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

INSOMNIA –

It’s nice. He knows it shouldn’t be the word he describes it with, but… that’s what it is. It’s nice. It’s nice to stay up with someone who expels the same type of energy as him, and not to mention the same amount of energy as him, or… lack of thereof. It’s nice living off of fumes together. It’s nice slipping to and from consciousness and how it almost turns into a game of who can survive the longest before collapsing, with the other shortly following, too tired to even bask in their victory.

It’s nice irritating over the same sharp sounds that attack their sensitive ears, not at all like the familiar sound of soft clicks of the controller in their hands. It’s nice communicating almost purely through mellow moans and groans and croaks, always understanding what the other is emitting despite it being but shapeless sounds.

It’s nice finding agreement in how the lights should always stay off, how it’s turned into some religious rule never meant to be crossed. It’s nice annoying over the same crisp bright light of the sun that violate their eyes those times they forget to shut the blinds before passing out after having counted stars and eating in the dead silence of night like nocturnal beings ignoring the light of day as though it were the plague. It’s nice how they can both find comfort in the glow of the moonlight or computer screen, leaching off of the energy like flies.

He’s found kinship in her presence, and despite it merely being himself and her in the darkness of his room, with flying specs of dust decorating the air and their computers the only windows to the world beyond their four walls, he feels as though the whole universe is looking at him when the softness of her glinting, beaming, sparkling eyes set their gaze and lock with his. It’s strange, but he always found angel-bright smiles and supersonic eyes to be too intrusive and annoying and scary to stand before, whereas her sunken dark eyes, ringed with shades of lilac contrasting her otherwise pale porcelain skin, kept almost albino in the darkness of his room… she couldn’t be more perfect.

Come to think of it, it’s perfection. Her in all her sleep-deprived glory, all her drowsy silliness, her sloppy harsh movements, tripping and stumbling with her droopy-eyes, in her soft giggling fits, where she’ll catch her stupidity just a moment too late and roll around on the bed, trying to shrug off Tomura’s teasing judgement as he pokes fun at her idiocy. Giving up on forming complete sentences as she almost always ends up toppling over her own words, settling for whining or sighing as she turns her head to bury it in his chest.

Utter perfection. Never bothering to get dressed, walking about like a little tease in only underwear and Tomura’s ill-fitted hoodie, hair pulled up into a messy-bun too messy, always defeating the purpose of keeping her hair from out of her face. Her unstable movements, disconnected to the ground as though she’s floating. Too grabbable and easily defeated in her weariness when being pulled into his lap, simply humming and moaning in response as he plants soft kisses down her neck, his fingers coming to destroy whatever’s in the way of him and her body.

HITOSHI SHINSO

HYPERSOMNIA –

She sleeps so soundly, like a little couch-kitten. All soft and cute, playing in her dreams. She’ll sleep whole entire days, only opening her eyes in small flutters every now and again and moaning ever so softly once he wakes her, though quickly scrunching her nose and twisting to fall asleep again. Her drowsiness rendering her pride invalid, causing her to pull at him to better comfort herself against his body, whining when he shifts, his warm presence leaving the bed when he needs to go to work. Her little unconscious protest making his heart twist in his chest, tempted to stay in bed with her all day long, yet comforting himself with the fact that he’ll probably come home to find her in the exact same position.

She’s so cute. She’ll curl and stretch, resting anywhere she finds comfortable: in bed, in the sofa, in the armchair, on his chest, his shoulder, his lap. Adorable with her little snores, all knotted up, remnants of her dreams spilling out from her sleep and coming to life in her limbs as she kicks and shakes her head, delving further into the pillow and twisting intricately in about the blanket. Eyelashes fluttering, eyes skittering beneath her puffy eyelids, caught up in whatever hurricane her mind has conjured up.

She seemed unfazed once she woke up in his room for the first time, and even then, she only gave him enough time to explain himself before nodding with heavy eyelids, laying her drowsy head back on the pillow. The situation dawning on her gradually over the first month, and if whether she was startled or angry, he couldn’t tell. If anything, sept for sleepy, he’d say she seemed confused, but alongside the confusion was the look that told him she couldn’t find the energy in herself to think too much about it without her fuzzy head hurting. Settling for eating breakfast with him in the mornings, and even thanking him on those occasion where she would forget the circumstances that led her to live there.

She doesn’t struggle when he pulls her limp body close to his own in the dead of night after he’s done for the day. He’s only mildly concerned, but it’s not his affection that shakes her from her sleep. He’s a selfish person, and he’s not one to hide those ugly aspects of himself. He’s selfish, greedy, controlling. He has to use his quirk on her sometimes… often times. Though she’s cute when she’s sleeping, he wants to do more than just watch her. He wants words, conversation, he wants to know what’s going on in that dark dreary head of hers, he wants to know what eerie things she’s been dreaming about, where she escapes to when her eyes slide close.

What more: he wants those eyes on him, those puffy, sleepy beautiful doe-eyes. He wants her to pay attention as he touches her skin and not simply to moan in response to it, he wants her to hang onto every single moment his skin touches hers. Telling her to focus reaches a long way. Those otherwise sleepy doe-eyes widening in such moon-bright curiosity, slaving at the hands of his quirk. Her otherwise limp and soft body shaking under his overwhelming touch, goosebumps springing to the surface under his tongue, a wicked glint evident in his lilac eyes.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

BIPOLAR –

She’s fragile on most days. Whether that fragility is in the shape of a daisy or a bomb is impossible to say until she either falls apart or blows up. It’s all rather uncertain, sporadic, spontaneous, where he’s given only a few signs where which he can predict what state of mind she’s in and how stable that structure is.

Most things depend on sleep, and upholding a balanced sleep-pattern has become one of the most important things in Keigo’s life after having taken his little darling. But, she manages to slip past his schedules more times than he would like to admit. When she refuses to go to sleep, his mind drifts to all the fun things they can do if they weren’t sleeping, and when she’s sound asleep and drowsing far beyond what time she should have woken up, he can’t find it in himself to wake her, not when he is the reason as to why she was so spent and sore and exhausted from the events and methods he used to make her fall asleep in the first place.

On little sleep one of two things can happen. She can either have the energy of a hummingbird or be tired to the point she almost looks sickly. On her lack-of-sleep-high she’s confident, cocky more so than Keigo, where she’ll test her luck on how far Keigo’s willing to bend his rules when she misbehaves, calling him all types of names, laughing in his face when he snaps and cackling even harder even madder when he decides to punish her, as though it’s all a game to quench her boredom.

With the absence of sleep causing her exhaustion she becomes irritated, seething with boiling rage, red in annoyance, whatever energy she has left focused on making her discomfort known as she scowls at him each time he smiles too loudly, but being too drained to physically act on her frustration or to even make up a snide comment without evoking a headache, left to simply snarl. He thinks it’s cute, where he knows well enough that if he pushes her limits too far she might just break. Break, and therefore let him gather her up into his arms and hush and tut at her to stop crying while he strokes her back, feeling her tremble with unparalleled frustration weighing down on her shoulders.

Then there are the days she sleeps too much. The same options are present here too. She’s either too energetic or too well rested. Either black or white. No grey. But with too much sleep she isn’t ever hostile, but still wild. Wild and enthusiastic and self-destructive and prop-full of ideas and insane in her passion. She’ll be unable to focus on anything, she’ll forget things seconds after they’ve been said or done, but… she’ll laugh and she’ll smile, and it won’t be one of those haughty nasty smiles she gives him when she’s feeling spiteful, but genuine in its playfulness or even bliss.

Then on other days sleeping half the day only results in her being even more drowsed out, yet accompanying her exhaustion isn’t irritation, but soft-tinted melancholia, where all she does is stay wrapped up in her blanket, quiet and still, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as she focusses on how hollow her chest is, as though caving in on itself, where she’ll fall all limp and snuggly in Keigo’s embrace, humming appreciatively as he wraps her up in his wings. All the while a treacherous smile of satisfaction on his face.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

DESPOND –

When Izuku chose his darling it was done without compromise, without fault, it was done with perfection. Meaning, he fell for all of her, invested in all of her, determined to preserve all of her. Even her inexplainable unfounded absurd plethora of self-doubt that make her delirious and hopeless with anxiety and guilt. He let himself fall hungrily in love with her little terror-wide heart. He fell viciously in love with how desperate in need of him to come help ground her she was.

It was as though she’s made for him, he would argue. It was as though he’s made for her. Some breeds of people are just too vulnerable to take proper care of themselves. Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves. Whereas others are made to help, other people need to help.

Emotions are abstract fundamental tools meant to be used. Lesser minds might look down on his methods, yet Izuku came to understand quite early in life that things such as morals are chains meant to keep you from achieving your goal. He has no quarrels with using and abusing those tools presented to him, where her irrational feelings of doubt, hopelessness and worthlessness are a delicious opportunity to achieve his goal. Besides, her emotions are too easily abused and give such great unshakable responses, and even though he doesn’t want to tamper too much with her instability… they’re just too in-reach for him to ignore, too tempting for him to stay away.

The feeling of responsibility sits like an extra organ inside him, where his toes curl each time he sees her large doe-eyes look at him as though he were the sun, as though her whole life revolves around him. She’s just so dependent on him, so in need of his guidance and advise and praise, where he’s afraid she might just drown in her own guilt if she senses she’s displeased him. She makes sure she wears what he likes, has her hair the way he likes, letting him play with her like putty in his hands if he asks it of her. How can he be expected to not exploit what is so clearly offered?

Besides, he spoils her as well. He returns the favor so to speak, even though he knows she has given herself no choice but to worship him in her mindset of inadequacy. She’s so sweet he nearly feels undeserving, because she’ll blush so preciously when he compliments her, bashful and adorable and too good to be true, he wonders how such a creature can ever feel like less. He adores her, yet that doesn’t stop him from finding such satisfying bliss in the fact that he’s infinitely stronger and faster and not to mention smarter. Whereas she’s gullible and too eager to please, another attributing factor as to why he loves her, despite it is also being the cause of her demise, or maybe even because of it

The truth is she’s lucky that she belongs to him. Lucky that he won’t ever let anything happen to her, no matter if she’s the source of her own harm. She’s lucky to have him to anchor herself to as so to avoid floating away in her hopelessness. This is safer for her. Despite him sticking his bloodstained inky fingers and twisting her heart in his deadlock of a fist, she’s safe, safer than she could or would ever be on her own.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

AMNESIA –

It’s cute. He won’t deny that it’s cute, because it is. It’s adorable and unbelievable and annoying all the same. She’ll forget the rules, she’ll wander too far from her confines, not greeting him at the door, not kissing him on que, leave questions unanswered despite him having told her to always answer him when she’s spoken to, all things he feels he’s made blatantly clear through threats and countless reminders. But, not only will she forget his rules, but basic living necessities, she’ll forget to eat and drink, forget to get dressed, forget where she is.

She’ll say the strangest things sometimes. Mild and mellow passionate thoughts regarding the clouds and stars and moon and gods and how pretty his snake-eyes are, like great big lakes of molten gold. It’s strange but he finds such great comfort in her little philosophical blubbering, her soft voice kissing his ears like gospel. It’s a tender type of relief or resolution found in listening to nonsense as opposed to the serious matters he has to deal with in his position in the underworld, her view of the world somehow painting everything, even the ugly and the dangerous, in beauty.

Sometimes she’ll drift a bit too far away though. She’ll daydream more than sleep, absentminded when he’s speaking to her, unable to focus on him or anything for more than a few minutes at best. All dizzy and fuzzy, as though she’s just woken from some dream or as if she’s always dreaming. Irritation festers in his chest when she doesn’t answer, but as she turns her head, expression all soft and oblivious, his chest caving in at the sight of those doe-eyes, all anger simmering into nothing, rendering his annoyance nonexistent, replaced by a sense of hopeless forgiveness and somehow appreciation.

When it comes to her for once actually remembering what she’s supposed to do she’ll weigh each task as though one wrong decision would cost her life. Greeting him at the door in nothing but underwear, already having failed at picking out an outfit and resorting to wearing the lingerie Kai picked and laid out for her on the bed in the morning. The simple task suddenly becoming a battle where she’ll spend much too much time deciding whether to take his jacket first or give him a kiss or welcome him home. Too many decisions with too faulty statistics and unsure outcomes she ends up merely standing there doing nothing but hold her head in her hands and whimper slightly at all the noise that suddenly crowded her head, tears already threatening to fall as she stands before him, all guilt-ridden and trembling.

He can be patient as long as he knows she isn’t disobeying him on purpose, especially when he sees how guilty and how terribly sorry she is each time she fails on acting out simple tasks such as those he gives her. She’ll cry and apologize for the mere act of breathing on some days where she’s extra fragile, where she seeks nothing but his praise, his comfort, his hand stroking through her hair as she sleeps restlessly in her sobs on his chest, unaware of the mild smile of satisfaction and endearment displayed on his face.

TODOROKI SHOTO

SELF-CONSCIOUS -

She’s always hiding. Like a little mouse, she’s always squeaking and squealing and hiding. Hiding her face, burying it in the pillow when he compliments her gorgeous eyes, begging him to stop, small timid hands pushing ever so slightly at him. Hiding her chest, her nipples, when he admires them, his hands playing with the soft and supple flesh, whimpering as she tries to twist away. Her knees trying their best to wrench shut, to hide and protect what sensitivity find between them from Shoto’s hungry fingers and tongue.

She’s always hiding… but he likes to hunt anyway. If she drapes herself in pitch-black hoodies he’ll gladly rip them off, or scorch them off and expose her delicious artful body. If she refuses to leave the bed he’ll gladly attack her where she’s sleeping. She’s always hiding, but she quickly comes to understand that there will be no hiding from him.

He doesn’t understand why she would ever want to hide divinity, and therefor doesn’t respect the wish. Having made it his mission to expose every little piece of her, licking up long lines of bumpy purple and white scars, sucking and biting at those pointy cherry nipples strutting at the coolness of his breath, kissing those plump lips of hers despite her cringing to cover herself up in thousand layers of clothes, dark clothes, where only the very least of her skin is remaining on display. He won’t have it.

He has to tie her up on most occasions where she’s too difficult and shy to listen and let him play with her beauty. He’ll have to tie her up like a starfish on the bed, limbs spread in each direction, scars running along them, quite like the ones he receives in battle, only precise and matching and purposeful, his hands coming to touch them in reverence, worshipping every little altercation she’s added to her skin, further pushing its ever-changing perfection, watching as she hopelessly struggles to hide herself, yet the both of them knowing how she’s fully his.

He can’t allow her hurting herself anymore though, not with the fear that she one day might slip up and kill herself just a little bit too much, but he’s happy to help her through the tools of fire and ice. Frostbite flowers look even more as though they belong on her body, as well as blotches of burns, his markings, his teeth. He’ll never forget the moan he received on his first indulgence branding her body with his elements, how she purred in gratitude, small blissful squeals and mewls following, further egging him on.

Once she grew more comfortable with his hands and his stare… or rather… once the need for his hands outgrew her discomfort, she became somewhat addicted. And now, she can be wild in her cravings on some days, demanding it of him, threatening him, fighting him. She’ll bite and claw, begging for him to retaliate, longing for him to push her into the bedsheets and teach her what it’s like to feel alive by teasing her with the promise of death.

Without him she’s left to pick at scabs, counting the seconds until his return. She’ll pull at her hair until her scalp is screaming. She’ll ball her fists, creating those blood-red crescent moons in her palms, biting her nails until they bleed and then some. Then bask in relief upon his return.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Season 2 Teaser for The Owl House?

So for those of you who haven’t caught up; A few days ago, Dana released an exclusive photo of herself on Instagram, with a cryptically-blurred reflection in her window that was all too conveniently-placed;

Now, this COULD just be some game she’s playing, but like; Reverse-image searches have yielded nothing, and it hurts no one to speculate! Thanks to @50shades-of-blue, who had the common sense to remember to flip the reflection, we have something more akin to THIS;

This image bears a decent resemblance to a sequence from the show’s intro, in terms of structuring; We have characters divided and separated by golden bars. This points to Dana’s image being a shot from a new intro for Season 2, either one for an entire season, or a single episode. I say this, because looking at the subject matter… On the very left, we see something vaguely blue, and similar in resemblance to a bile sac;

This could actually be the Titan’s heart, image below for reference;

Not only that, but as Blue’s helpful tracing points out, the other two figures in the ‘slots’ bear a resemblance to Owl Mask and Kikimora, the latter having the fingers of her hand-hair splayed out, and the former appearing to take off their mask.

What little we see of Owl Mask bears a decent-enough resemblance to the Season 2 character that Dana teased, further cementing a connection between the two. Not only that, but we get a glimpse of five (possibly six) colorful symbols above the three character slots, each likely pertaining to the Coven Heads, as shown by Blue’s earlier tracing.

In particular, you can tell the blue symbol has the same distinctive, U-shaped horns of the Healing Head; And the green symbol bears enough resemblance to the Plant Head, with their dark-green bangs covering most of their lighter-green face. Combined with symbols that seem similar to the Construction, Beastkeeping, and Oracle Heads, the exact layout we’ve seen so far coincidentally seems to match the banner layout seen in The First Day;

You have from left to right; The Construction, Plant, Beastkeeping, Bard, and Healing Heads! Now, if you look to the very right of the image, there also seems to be a sixth symbol, a bit lower than the others, with what appears to be a purple coloration; This is likely the Oracle Head, especially since it matches with the aforementioned placement of the banners. Now, exact positioning beside, we also know that there are three more symbols obscured, the ones for the Abominations, Potions, and Illusion Heads. If we go by the pattern established by the rest of the image, with the Heads at either end of the display being placed lower than the rest, and the rest being shown in an up-down pattern… Then it seems we more or less have the vast majority of this mysterious screenshot, with some of it blacked out!

As others such as @preciseprose have suggested, there’s a good chance that this is a screen transition, hence why only a specific corner and portion is obscured; Because if this shot parallels the one seen in the Season 1 intro with Willow, Gus, and Amity, which burns away in the middle to reveal King… Then it makes sense that a similar transition would happen with this show, perhaps obscuring from the outside-in this time as a contrast.

Now, what’s interesting is that this style of shot, once reserved for protagonists and friends/peers of Luz, is now being designated towards lesser-known antagonists associated with the Emperor’s Coven. While this could just be how the Season 2 intro works, with Gus, Willow, and Amity appearing later or earlier, likely closer to Luz; It does make me and others wonder if we’ll get a dedicated intro to the Emperor’s Coven with Belos, front-and-center! I’ve talked at enormous length in the past of Luz and Belos being parallels… And it’d match other Disney TVA shows, such as Gravity Falls, Ducktales, or Amphibia, who had villainous takeovers for their shows’ intros as well!

This could of course allude to an episode with a heavy focus on the members of the Coven System, specifically Belos and his aides Owl Mask and Kikimora, as well as the Head witches of the Covens he appointed and presumably trusts. This is of course all fascinating and has me even MORE intrigued, but also; The placement of the Titan’s heart alongside Owl Mask and Kikimora suggests its treatment as its own character as well… Which, if it’s a giant heart, it presumably represents and operates as a stand-in for the Titan, perhaps the conduit with which Belos even speaks to it (and vice-versa?) through! AKA the Heart represents the Titan, it IS the Titan, which then suggests that this Emperor’s Coven triumvirate consists of the Titan, Owl Mask, and Kikimora…

But that’s not the only consideration! I’ve talked before about character parallels in this show… We have Luz and Amity, Eda and Lilith, Owlbert and Lilith’s palisman. I’ve speculated on King and Kikimora being parallels, and even Hooty and Belos… But that always made me wonder; What about Willow and Gus? Do THEY have parallels, associated with the Coven System and its Emperor? And for a while I entertained Warden Wrath and Owl Mask, but lo and behold; I may be right, at least about one of those two, and also in general about parallels! Because if we compare the placements… We have the Titan and Willow, Owl Mask and Gus, and Amity and Kikimora!

Owl Mask being a parallel to Gus is interesting, because they’re operating as a spy for Belos; And presumably, Illusionists would be great at stealth. I wouldn’t be surprised if Owl Mask used Illusions, albeit to disguise and mask their own presence; A parallel and contrast to Gus, who uses Illusions to create and draw attention and spectacle! Not only that, but it makes me wonder if Owl Mask is also a child prodigy like Gus, if they have issues with being overlooked, and as a contrast to Gus, they’ve embraced this instead of fighting against it…? And Owl Mask is sent to spy on Luz the human, perhaps a parallel to Gus’ own fascination with humans…?

Then we’ve got Willow and the Titan’s heart. Now, this one interests me… And it makes me think about how Willow is presented with a raw, innate strength, and an uncanny ability to cast magic without summoning a circle nor glyph. I’ve talked before about Willow and Belos having parallels, as they both have distinct shots with their eyes glow green; Could this parallel stem more from a connection to the Titan, than anything else? Then as @aguigenae suggested, instead of Luz (or JUST Luz) being able to speak to the Titan… What if it was Willow? It’d re-contextualize her ability to draw onto raw, magical potential through pure emotions… And similarly, a lot of her spells draw power from the Isles itself in the form of plants, and we know the Isles as synonymous with the Titan!

With how Belos seems to draw power and spells from the Isles, albeit with fleshy and stone formations… Perhaps Willow serves as a parallel and foil, creating constructs from the Isles as well, but in the form of plantlife! Her being able to speak to plants might provide a medium to contact the Isles they’re rooted in… And as I said before, Willow has shown an unusual ability with magic not unlike how Belos can cast magic, but through his unique form of spheres and orbs. If Willow is associated with the Titan’s heart, perhaps she could speak to it in a way that Belos can’t- Perhaps they BOTH can speak, and this will lead to a conflict with Belos, who seeks to preserve this ‘privilege’? Keep in mind that it’s Willow who openly defies Belos the most by rallying an entire crowd against him- If she’s the face of the revolution, her being able to speak to the Titan could create further parallels and odds between the two!

Not only that, but… Talking again of Willow and the Titan’s Heart, if the two are parallels; What does this say about the Titan itself? Perhaps like Willow, it’s a being with raw magical power, easily terrifying, and with a connection to nature (as it IS nature in its case). If these characters are dark parallels, then what if the Titan was like Inner Willow, wrathful and fully exploring its dangerous power, having felt harmed and hurt, twisted…

But what if it was also a Willow who never learned to stand up for herself? A powerful, dangerous witch… But with no true self-esteem, no believe in themselves? What if the Titan was like a Dark Willow, and this self-doubt was what allowed Belos to manipulate it? I’ve speculated before that perhaps Belos has managed to sway and influence the Titan into seeing his way as the right way to handle magic… If it was a dark parallel to Willow, perhaps the Titan is hopeless, thinking there’s nothing it can do to oppose Belos, feeling like it’s smarter than him, as a toxic friend with control; Think Anne and Sasha from Amphibia!

We might even get a scene paralleling Willow and Amity’s first appearance, with how Amity condescendingly mocks Willow, albeit with potential, if misguided, good intentions. Perhaps Belos is like this- He’s cruel and manipulative of the Titan, but he also genuinely believes in what he’s doing, that this IS the best for the Isles, and that this is how the Titan should have its magic be utilized and taught. But, in absence of Amity, we see Willow’s true feelings of resentment and anger that have bottled up… So what if the Titan was like that with Belos, except dialed up? What if the Titan hates Belos or wants to see him defeated, but isn’t entirely sure if he’s wrong, either…

So to get into blind speculation, what if- What if the Titan has tried to create a new champion? By going behind Belos’ back and communicating with a new, younger witch, perhaps one that reminds it of Belos before he turned corrupt… What if the Titan is contacting Luz and/or Willow? Hoping to find someone else who will actually speak for them, not just talk over as Belos possibly is doing? Maybe the Titan is trying to foster a new witch, an alternative champion to depose Belos or take over; Or have Belos and Luz/Willow compete, to prove to the Titan who has the best philosophy to magic through their own respective victories?

And if Belos were to find out… Well, I imagine he might do something drastic to the Titan. He has control and access to its heart- Could he torture it in retaliation, perhaps causing quakes across the Isles that echo the Titan’s throes of agony? Would Belos do something drastic to prevent the Titan from helping Luz/Willow, adversely affecting the Boiling Isles in the process? Similarly, if Belos is a toxic friend to the Titan, perhaps there’s symbolism to his castle built around the Titan’s heart… Kudos to @fermented-writers-block for some of these ideas;

Perhaps it could be interpreted as Belos having an iron grip over its heart, or the Titan building up walls around its heart –thanks to Belos’ encouragement- and letting in only Belos…? Alas, Belos is the one who convinces the Titan to hide itself away and let only him in, because only HE cares, only he knows best… And yet, he’s the one who helped build those walls that the Titan hides within. Ultimately, his castle MUST fall- Especially if it’s being used to exploit and manipulate the Titan’s heart in other, literal ways as well…

Finally, let’s talk Amity and Kikimora sharing placements. There is of course the obvious implication of romantic feelings, but also… What if, instead, there was this idea of Belos being like Luz to Amity, for Kiki? For Amity, Luz was an outsider who came out of nowhere and changed her life for the better, helped her stand up for herself- What if Belos was that to Kikimora? What if he was an outsider, a human even (before he changed and decayed) that changed Kikimora’s life forever after he appeared from nowhere… The two starting to a prickly start, before truly caring for each other? As Belos encouraged Kikimora to stand up for herself, eventually culminating in her own life improving(?) as Kiki is now second only to him, the Emperor of the Boiling Isles! It might explain why he seems to trust her so much- The two genuinely care for each other and Kikimora feels like she owes everything to him…

And, to incorporate my own analysis/speculation of Amity; Perhaps Kikimora has placed all of her sense of self-worth into Belos, about how she can help him, because only HE ever made her feel like something! What if as a toxic parallel to Luz and Amity, Kikimora has lowkey become dependent upon Belos- Who, while kind to Kikimora… Kiki still has placed all of her self-esteem not in herself, but in Belos’ approval of her. And while Belos DOES approve and provide support, it’s still dangerously dependent and shows that Kikimora can’t really stand for herself, that she needs someone else as a litmus test to judge her worth as a person.

Finally, we know Amity is the least talented compared to Willow and Gus; Given how we have the literal Titan and Owl Mask, compared to Kikimora, who caves into Luz’s threats… It’s possible Kikimora is the least powerful amongst the Titan and Owl Mask, but has made up for it with raw determination and skill? After all, she presumably cast the magical cage that all of Luz’s efforts wouldn’t have been able to defeat. Perhaps like Amity, Kikimora had to work hard to prove herself, to earn respect; And like Amity in Episode 3, Kikimora feels a desperate need to hold onto that sense of accomplishment and superiority, and can and WILL retaliate viciously when it’s threatened. To Kikimora, she’s dedicated everything into making up for her own shortcomings, just like Amity- So she despises cheaters, or at least people who undermine that work.

(I know what some may be thinking- Isn’t Kikimora a King parallel? Well, these parallels work in multiple ways… Amity parallels Luz, but then so too does Belos, presumably. I wouldn’t be surprised if Amity was both a parallel to Luz AND Kikimora, then.)

And, that’s my general thoughts, analysis, and speculation, all based from this reflection we’ve seen! It’s possible Dana is trolling us, by accident or otherwise, with a videogame screenshot… But hey- It doesn’t hurt anyone if we’re wrong, I say! It’s all in good fun… Besides, if it WAS a teaser from Season 2, and we didn’t give our shot, then we’d all feel like idiots! We may as well take our chance and analyze, because- Just in case…!

#the owl house #the owl house luz #Luz noceda #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house gus #augustus porter #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house kikimora #the owl house season 2 #speculation #theory #analysis #Dana terrace

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stormgardenscurse · 4 years ago

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A Solstice Ball (Lilia Vanrouge)

About: Lilia x Reader (gender neutral) where Diasomnia invites you to spend the holidays with them back home, including the celebration of the winter solstice.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.6k

The Valley of Thorns, despite its rather prickly name, is a place that shines with an otherworldliness unique to itself.

It’s the same kind of timeless beauty that you’ve come to associate with Diasomnia. Even Silver, who is not fae himself, wields the aura. You’re a little jealous that they’d grown up in such a place, where mountains were aplenty and stars glittered clearer than you’ve ever seen.

And when you’re wandering around the hallways on a sleepless night, said stars lend you their company. It’s easy to gaze out of the windows since there are plenty flanking the walls. You’re currently staying in the castle and home of your friends, who were generous enough to invite you to celebrate the winter solstice together.

It’s tradition for the royal family to host a ball welcoming the Sun after a night of festivities - meaning the event would be run for almost twelve hours, starting with the evening and continuing into the next day, where the guests would eventually transition from the ballroom into the main gardens to witness the sunrise together. Malleus, for the past years, has been responsible for the ‘welcoming’, which according to Sebek was a magnificent sight, but Lilia insisted you not be spoiled of the details just yet, wanting you to witness it yourself.

Recounting the events that lead up to now helps calm your mind a bit, but the effect falls away briefly when you notice a figure walking down the hall toward you. While it’s unlikely they pose any danger to you, the suddenness of it spikes your heartbeat nevertheless. Many fae are undoubtedly graceful and agile in their movements, so it wouldn’t be a surprise to not have caught the noise of footsteps at first.

However… This person is entirely soundless, and it’s only when you catch a glimpse of pink-dyed strands that you realise why.

Lilia settles into a kind smile as he nods at you in greeting, making his way to you. “Is something keeping you up, Y/N? I never took you for one to wander about at night.” He holds his chin to ponder it for a second. “Though young people do tend to retire to bed at later times...”

“You say that as if your sprightly self doesn’t do the same.” You shake your head, lips lifting amusedly. “Between your liking for strolls and gaming habits, I sometimes wonder how you find the energy to cause trouble.”

Lilia chuckles, “I suppose that was deserved, for my prank on poor Silver. He usually doesn’t express himself too explosively, so it’s always a treat to be gifted with the sight.”

“...If only that wasn’t at the cost of his risotto.” You lend him a scolding look, albeit jokingly. “He was looking forward to it too - Silver may never recover from the shock, poor guy.”

“The experience is sure to be a valuable one.” His eyes glimmer like garnets, and you’re suddenly reminded of their dark-red hue. Mysterious and lively, and somehow communicating a depth forged through his long-lived life. “A knight has to be alert after all, both on and off the battlefield.”

“...I suppose so. And knowing how dedicated those two are, they likely accepted that excuse?”

“Indeed.” Lilia looks out of the window and at the landscape beyond. Part of you feels like he’s reminded of a memory, from the fondness in his expression. “Sebek and Silver are reliably hard-working. Even if they are mere hatchlings as of now, they will surely prove formidable someday. I hope you’ll be there to cheer them on when that time comes.”

“Of course, I look forward to seeing them grow.” Your smile grows warm at the thought. “They want to make you and Malleus proud after all. Their resolve burns brighter than most their age.”

A comfortable silence fills the air, and you notice Lilia’s posture loosening a bit more. His gaze turns to meet yours, light and content. “Malleus and I have regretfully been busier with the ball’s preparations, but I promise to take you to our favourite places once this is over with.” Lilia makes a small gesture toward your hand, to which you give a nod, allowing him to interlace your fingers and place a kiss to the back of it. “It’ll be fun to show you around our hometown. There are some things you can only experience in the Valley of Thorns after all~ Like that shop that sells enchanted sweets! I’ve been meaning to make a stop there before we return to Night Raven College.”

Your lips quirk as you raise a brow at him. “Why is it that you sound more excited for that than the ball tomorrow? Just before break, you were reminiscing of the winter solstices you attended in the past.”

“While the event is an annual one, it is the first time you’re spending the holidays with us.” Lilia winks at you playfully. “That, I am more excited for. And seeing what attire the fairies have come up for you - It’s not often they take to someone and mend them an outfit, after all.”

“Please don’t remind me…” You groan at the memory. “When they took my measurements they wouldn’t stop arguing about the colors. And at the end they never settled on a decision, so I’m left in suspense!”

Lilia laughs at your mournful expression. “This group is known for their craft, so it’ll certainly be worth the wait. Both for you and me.”

“Oh?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “So you’re looking forward to that.”

“A chance to see you more stunning than usual is always one I’d be interested in,” Lilia counters without missing a beat. “I just have to be sure no one else steals you away from the ball before I can - There was something I’d wanted to show you tomorrow.” He gives your hand a light squeeze, eyes bright. “The surprise will be around midnight, so please bear with it until then.”

“I’ll try,” you laugh as he presses a light kiss to your cheek. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, huh?”

Looking back, truer words couldn’t have been spoken. Right from the moment you awoke till right before the ball, you were constantly moving about preparing your attire and helping the others run small errands, like delivering a message or checking on the status of the main hall.

The venue was pretty before, but now that guests have trickled in and the night has begun to celebrate, the entire place transformed into a magical sight.

Despite the late hours the event has journeyed into, the room is lit just like any other time of the day. The lighting helps keep you active, thankfully, while the crowd seems to never tire; dancers exchange partners while others conversed at another side of the ballroom. The melody that lives in the air takes turns being magically played and performed by musicians, though the transitions are so practiced and quick that you barely notice until later on.

To your surprise, you find yourself at no short of stamina throughout the night. Perhaps it’s the shared energy in the room, the refreshments, or the entertaining chats you’re led into, but time flies as swift as a bird.

From some spellwork, flowers that glow like stars float above the crowd, reminding you of lanterns. On occasion the odd one would wrap into itself and descend onto the crowd, by which a guest could catch it, watching the enchanted bud unravel and bloom. It would then start to shine, before drifting off into the air like a feather caught in a breeze.

Throughout the night the flowers take turns falling onto the crowd, earning the attention of those nearby with their soft but colorful hues. You’re starting to suspect the intervention of a friend as the shadow of one floats above you; the third one this night.

Despite receiving them multiple times, the sight of petals unfurling so gracefully never ceases to put you in a state of awe. This time it is one of gentle lavender, though tinged with hints of blues and pink. It’s unexpectedly light to the touch compared to its size, which is just a little smaller than your head.

The bloom eventually starts to float out of your grasp, by which you give it a little push into the air as it rejoins the sea of flora. A familiar face approaches you from within the crowd, his gaze lending itself to the sight above before settling on you.

“It seems that the flowers enjoy your company as well,” Lilia jokes, before extending a hand for you to take. He begins to lead you somewhere, sending a small smile your way. “People say that receiving them repeatedly is an auspicious sign.”

You hum thoughtfully, “I was starting to think that the places that they landed are being controlled by magic. Sebek and Silver were there the first time, then Malleus at the second…”

Lilia grins almost proudly, the tips of his fangs showing. “Third time’s the charm~ I’m glad to have witnessed you carrying that flower. It was a fitting sight, especially with your attire.”

“I still can’t quite believe it.” You admit, looking down at the fabric - it feels weightless on your skin, yet is still woven with such detailed patterns. “The fairies really outdid themselves, this feels like something out of a fairytale… I feel a little bad keeping it.”

“Well, seeing as it was a gift, you have every right to have it as a keepsake of tonight.” He reminds you, pushing a door open. It wasn’t the main one that guests entered through, but another on the side of the ballroom. The air is quieter out here, save for the castle staff that would cross the corridor every now and then.

With every step away from the ballroom, Lilia starts to shed away his formal stance and shrugs off the feeling of the party behind. He sighs a little, sounding more tired of the situation than physically exhausted. The fae catches your amused look as he raises a brow in return, his smile more mischievous and relaxed - just like his usual self, outside of events like these. “Oh? What an expression you’re making. Do I have something on my face?”

“Not quite.” You mirror his tone. “But rest assured I’ll let you know if you do~ I have a question though, where exactly are we heading?”

“The gardens,” Lilia informs as your arms loop together. It’s less of a childish act and more reminiscent of a knightly escort - perhaps it’s because you’re in a castle and just left a ball, but you’re starting to see more and more noble qualities in the things he does. “I’ve been wanting to show it to you for sometime, but now seems like the most appropriate chance. It does offer a view of Malleus’ welcoming later on, so we’re free to stay until the end of the event.”

“You still never told me much about it,” you muse lightheartedly, “You overestimate my patience, Lilia. I’m growing curiouser by the minute.”

“In that case…” He’s led you to an outdoor garden on the upper floors, which extends into a balcony that overlooks the grounds. “Would this do for now? It’s one of my favourite spots in the castle,” he chuckles, “I hope you'll enjoy it.”

How unfair. There were flowers of every kind dotting the bushes and growing into overhangings. With this amount of space, you felt like it could pass for an attraction in itself. It was different from the grandness of the ballroom decorations, but held its own with its serene charm. Lilia takes your reaction as a sign of agreement. He chuckles and bows toward you, offering his palm.

“May I have this dance?”

You both start a simple one, more for the sake of enjoying yourselves and the cool air than trying to show off any moves. Although this doesn’t stop Lilia from adding a few twirls and steps to the rhythm as he hums softly, a tune that you swear you’ve heard before but couldn’t pinpoint where or when.

You wonder aloud of how your limbs hadn’t started to tire from the festivities, to which Lilia explains that the refreshments from the ball are suited to help replenish energy and revitalize the body, due to the sheer length of the event. The topic flows to other things, like an ice cream parlour he’d like to visit with everyone and how you’re adjusting to Twisted Wonderland. At this point the dance has also broken off into a simple stroll about the gardens.

Eventually you’re interrupted by the sound of doors opening and the chatter of guests.

"The sunrise." Lilia confirms in response to your questioning gaze. The two of you make your way to the balcony for a better view, where you can see Sebek and Silver accompanying Malleus to an open space that's elevated like a stage of sorts. Gargoyles guard the marble platform at its feet, though their presence is no comparison to the prince's, who stands facing his back to the crowd.

You briefly see the glint of a gem as Malleus waves his magic-pen in a swift motion, summoning a plant from the ground.

Or perhaps… It was more accurate to say that he grew it right before your very eyes, shaping the branches of what you realise to be a tree to form a circular frame of sorts. You doubt that any old magician could perform such a feat in mere minutes, judging by its sheer size.

Lilia smiles from beside you like a proud parent, though it edges into a smirk as he briefly mentions that this tree was more elaborate than last year's with its patterns. You're left confused for a moment before realising that it indeed has spiral carvings throughout its trunk and branches, ones that depicted the sun and moon, and even illustrating dancing figures and musicians. It held the story of the winter solstice and the ball that celebrated it, and you're left with your breath stolen from such a sight.

Yet the star of the show (quite literally, in a sense) only makes its appearance soon after - the Sun rises from the horizon and peeks between the mountains in the distance, accurately falling into the frame that Malleus created with the tree. He waves his hand once more, taking the moment to expand the light like a fracture.

You hear a chuckle from beside you as you shield your vision from the brightness. As soon as you lower your hand you notice a ball of light remaining where the Sun had passed, like a star captured in the frames of the oak. It still shone with a youthful light, as if daring its surroundings to challenge its worth.

"How temperamental," Lilia echoes your thoughts bemusedly. "I expect this year's tree to shine longer than the last ones."

The crowd bursts into applause as Malleus steps down from the stage. You're about to ask Lilia something when you suddenly realise how close his face was to yours.

"Is this another tradition?" You ask, studying his eyes.

"There is a saying about it, yes." Upon your answering smile, Lilia starts to lean in closer, a hand cupping your cheek. "Sharing a kiss with someone at the welcoming of the Sun is a good luck charm of sorts."

You can't help but laugh after pulling away, lips tingling from the contact. For someone mischievous, Lilia liked to use oddly innocent excuses to steal moments of affection. "Happy winter solstice, Lilia."

"May a fortuitous time be ahead." He returns, smile content. "I'm glad you're here to spend it with us."

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clandestine-j · 3 years ago

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Gossip Girl Reboot, EP. 3

Review/Reaction

alright, we're here for ep 3 reaction and thoughts &

man, i must say, DRAMA.

love it. i'm going to try and make this short but i fail horribly at stuff like that soooo lets see how this will go. i think imma split it into three groups! adults, kids, other random shit.

adults

you know what? i was here for most of them. people talk about zoyas dad bad acting but he was fine in his little scene, i'm happy that he's forcing zoya to take time with obie or whatever. i know people hate her dad and zobie but it was a little nice scene.

i'm really loving julien's dad. i'm glad he can own up and apologize and i get where he was coming from. honestly 10/10 so far, i love the relationship he has with julien and how's he's learning to cope with her becoming an adult and seeing it happen.

fucking love max's dad and the whole family dynamic thing before it went to shit. obvi, the one day is shitty but his other dad, lovely, i love their relationship. parents are winning in this ep.

teachers? JAIL (maybe not rafa but we'll still see). honestly, i'm not hating the teachers being gg, i like that they put gg out there for other private schools so i'm enjoying it but still JAIL. JAIL. JAIL.

our mains

we didn’t get to see much of monet but her little blow up motion at the end was funny and when the chick offered her name, monet said no. queen. and home girl accepted it.

luna was #theebest from her doing the zoya glow up. i think everyone agrees that her holding up the phone is a fan favorite. luna is my best one liner girl. her delivery is on point.

obie, more of obie, i know people don’t like him but he’s an alright character for me. i see potential but we need to flush him out a bit more. i hope to see more of his interactions with aki, give us the friendship. i want him to take what he learns to heart.

zoya, yes girl, pop off. i guess she can when it comes to her passions but not to her. (just be catty once back) i love that she did call luna when it came to the hashtag and she realized who she couldn’t be fairly quickly. i wonder if the play wright is the new friend.

julien! honestly, she really is a queen and i’m loving her pushing back against monet and luna more and more. i also love the scheming and her night out with max. they’re great together and i just wanna see more of it. (all of the friendships) i also love her relationship with her dad. i like that they talk and work things out and while he shouldn’t have lied, i get why and i love that he thought about her so much.

idk how to even to the next few but here we go.

honestly, i found aud and aki funny this episode. their reactions were so alike but so different. the awkward wave and everything. i get that they’re lying to themselves but damn, if they could find a way to spice up their sex life they’d be good. i find them so cute as a couple when they’re all cuddly and just ugh. guys. talk. i will say that after though, when they met in the hall way, i like that once it was out there, aki was straight to the point. honestly, if they broke up...i don’t think it’d be bad, i think they’d be good friends and understanding of each other.

i saw people saying that they didn’t give enough (aki) but max was on his monologue shit and i think they were in two different mindsets. aki didn’t look blank, he looked pissed. and i would be too lowkey, you say you don’t wanna be in the middle of it but then you put yourself, right in the middle. and aside from the kiss, i don’t think aki tried anything more with him unless it comes out that he did. but a few days passed (julien jetting around) so i don’t if they were that thirsty. audrey probs thought that in that moment, she’d really lose aki and that’s what brought her too tears. i think aki already accepted what might happen and was just pissed while audrey, even when she told julien about it, she was disconnected in her head about what she had done.

max was a rollercoaster this episode. from the taking julien out to posting her with the coke to making the plans. it’s was all chaos. i think the moment i felt the worst from aside from the break down? when he didn’t realize the trouble with his parents marriage at the table but we could all see it. that was heart breaking and my dude though, his planning was on ten. making the profile, switching the seats, the hands on the thigh (aki licking his lips) and then his break down and just telling of the truth, exploding, spilling the tea. whatever you wanna call it. it was wonderful and his reasons for doing it, so childish and backfired but you get it. he just wanted the truth out with his parents and it all went to hell. really, heart breaking but amazing for the show and his character development.

my man is still messy though, even without telling the business. like aud and max were in a relationship but those were yo friends my dude. you legit blocked aki from sitting next to his girlfriend, im crying. (messy and he knows it and aki liked his lips. sick.)

now random thoughts that had no real place

audrey’s actress makes these strange faces sometimes...idk...it’s funny to me because i’m wondering why

the scene when max’s dads and rafa met, jesus

would you spell it buffl-ho?

it’s the least you could do

did aki say shenanigans, boy you are a kid

the moment with max and his dad, still, thinking about and it still cute, all cuddly, idk if the og parents were like this but i love it

since we’re getting mostly reasonable parents i expect the worse ones to pop up soon

the way monet delivered that brad line, it sends

why would he put her doing coke on

aud / aki had reasons to think max would blab because he’s messy

my boy aki flirting with other dudes as rafa

i could see aud asking aki to make out with any boy while she watches, so guys get it together please

how did obie not see aki stops talking and suddenly look at max

i wonder if someone has tried to take advantage of max because those words hit too hard

those teachers really set home girl up, omg, JAIL.

aki needs new friends who’ll love his movie drops. he just gets bullied into things, maybe it’s his kink i won’t judge but he couldn’t change by himself, pushed into the bathhouse, the profile, obie won’t let the group chat name stick #stopgettingbullied

aki’s & max’s relationship summed up into one tweet, he really likes this boi, once i’m SICK (click the sentence)

i haven’t loved all of at school looks but i really liked juliens at the end of the episode

was the music transitions a little jarring to anyone else?

thanks all for now, just my minds ramblings as normal. i could go more in depth about all of this but i’m sure ya’ll are sick of reading it now.

#gossip girl reboot #max wolfe #aki menzies #julien calloway #luna la #c;gg

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softcallofdutyimagines · 4 years ago

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Off to the Races | AU: Gangsters/Casino | Russel Adler x fem!reader

Summary: You were born for the stage. A natural dancer with all of your youth used for experience, you now find yourself as a showgirl in one of Vegas' top casinos, the SunDowner. Owned by, Russell Adler, a notorious gangster in the underworld who remains undercover to the public eye, business is booming. Doubly so when a mysterious promotion comes your way, launching you to the top stage...

Just when you thought your life couldn't get more interesting, just how crazy will things get when the old gangster handpicks you from one crazy life to another, to keep for himself?

Tags: Gangster Au, age difference

Warnings: This fic has no explicit smut or anything, but WILL contain some overtly sexual themes and suggestive content, strong language, and age difference bc y'all know me 😪 So reader beware!

Y'all thought I was joking with this post huh lol

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You’d be surprised how much that little mantra has gotten you through.

Tonight, it comes in handy once more.

You scurry into place on stage, surrounded by an array of women around your age in exactly similar costumes. Glittering, skin tight leotards, sky high heels to pop out some ass, sheer mesh sections to show a little skin, and long, billowing feather accents mounted on your back and head for God knows what.

It’s your first night doing a showgirl routine at the infamous SunDowner casino, right here in shiny, shimmering Sin City itself. You’re one of three acts going on at the same time, all on different floors of the building. Your performance is taking place in the middle floor stage where the least amount of people are likely to see you, just in case you turn out to be a waste of a contract.

You take a look around you. The other women seem so confident… That, or they’re damn good at pretending. Makes sense, you think to yourself, everyone and their mother is a damn actor in this town. It’s all an act... When Shakespeare said “All the world’s a stage”, you doubt this is what he had in mind.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker booms, announcing the start of the show. The lights power on over head, blindingly bright as some oldie style song starts up. Something for the oldsters, no doubt. But then again… aren’t you too?

The curtains shoot to the side on the beat and you can feel yourself pulled into auto pilot. You’ve practiced this dance so many times, it’s like second nature by now. So you dance. You parade around, covered in glitter and somehow managing to not break your neck in these heels while you strut around and roll your hips and shake your ass for some drunk old men with all fourteen of the other women beside you doing exactly the same thing.

And while you preform... Somewhere, way way up on the top floor, Russell Adler, owner of this whole joint and a couple city blocks to boot, returns to his office after taking a walk through the gambling pits. He’s caught two hustlers tonight alone, both of which were dealt with… severely.

The Sundowner doesn’t take kindly to thieves, and neither does he.

He dips into a side room within the office space behind a covertly placed door into a soundproof room. Adler switches on the lights and takes a seat in front of a huge stack of tv monitors. He pours himself a glass of whiskey, and watches the live feed from his many surveillance cameras. These are to keep an eye on his dealers and pit bosses rather than the customers, contrary to what most may think.

Can’t be too careful in this line of business, after all.

The room is silent except for the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the large oak desk. He’s not one for glitz and garish glamour, but he is never without his four favorite rings.

They adorn his right hand, all made of polished platinum. Three are made in the shape of a thin, wound coil with some decorative knurling along the surface in a trapezoidal pattern, getting slightly thicker in size right up to the crown piece on his index finger. The largest ring features the hissing head of a viper with inset eyes made of two black diamonds.

Each ring is easily worth several thousand dollars, and not even close to the most expensive item on his person tonight, let alone in his wardrobe.

His eyes shift from left to right, scanning each screen quickly and judiciously as he taps and sips. For a moment, he lands on the showgirl performance. The quality of entertainment and the establishment itself is every bit as important as making sure everyone else stays in line and on their side of the house rules.

Adler checks the camera marker and notes that these are the new hires. Whatever he sees, he’ll make sure to cut them some slack.

Some.

One girl stumbles a bit, right there on stage. She’s out. Another girl brushes against the one beside her. Out. Then, towards the finale, two girls jump out of sync with the rest. He shakes his head and sighs. Where the fuck are his people getting these girls from?

He takes note of the ones he wants gone, then manages to swallow his frustration and watch the wrap up. Things end to light applause and before the curtain closes he taps a key on his board of switches to pause the feed. He counts up the dancers and take notes of each girl personally.

You know… Throughout that entire shit show, if memory serves, there was only one girl who hit all the marks.

Adler rewinds the feed and focuses on you in particular. He follows your every step and leap. Watching every move, studying every turn…

He was right. Perfect, throughout the whole routine. He reaches for his red phone and calls up the man in charge of the girl shows.

“Who’s the one in position seven, middle stage show?”

There’s a moment of silence and a rustling of paper before the other man replies with your full name, a little bit of your credentials, and the date of your hiring. “Something wrong sir?”

“Yes, send positions three, ten, eight, and twelve home. We have standards, for God’s sake”

“Of course sir-”

“And as for seven… I want her performing top stage next time”

More silence, and then a tentative, “...Yes sir”

Adler clicks the phone into the receiver and takes the last sip of his drink. Hmp, lucky number seven… His gaze lingers on you and your supple body only a moment longer. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip... then goes back to the rest of his cameras.

He’ll be interested to see if you can rise to the task he’s gifted to you.

When the last of your shows ends, you and the rest of the girls head back to the dressing room one more time tonight to get changed out of these contraptions they have you wearing. A stern looking man bursts into the room unannounced, he calls out four girls and sends them packing with no explanation given. His beady eyes scan the room and land on you, nearly giving you a heart attack as you brace to be cut as well.

“And you, seven… You’re performing in the VIP lounge next week. Don’t fuck this up”

And just like that, he leaves as quickly as he came, slamming the door behind him. The other girls turn to congratulate you, some bitterly, while you’re left reeling.

Playing the top floor, the “VIP lounge” is… huge.

Some girls perform here their whole lives and never get to see it. You’ve even heard that they hire foreign professionals, just to meet up to their standards. Up there you can make tips on top of your salary. Well, only for... private dances or pole shows, but still…

You go home that night wondering how such a thing is even possible, but soon decide to shake it off. Who cares how, all that matters is that the chance has come.

And you plan to rise to the occasion.

You spend your next two days off practicing and limbering up both with the other VIP dancers and on your own. Most of the women keep to themselves and you can tell they’re a bit resentful of your presence.

There’s no question about it, you’re the youngest one here and by default the least experienced. What gives you the right to be instantly promoted like that? If only you yourself knew.

Regardless, your first performance on the top floor is here before you know it. And things go… Fairly well, to be honest.

The routine is complex, but you can tell it’s been slowed down to give you a chance. The stage is bigger, the makeup more colorful, the costumes more revealing, and the lights brighter, and yet... you feel right at home. The nervousness has worn off by now and you’re a rising star on the stage.

After a few nights of proving yourself, you’re even hired for some private dances and given a chance on the pole.

The cash pool you take home gets bigger and bigger every night, and so does your audience.

But, for all the eyes on you, there’s one strange pair that bothers you the most…

You’re working a routine with the other girls tonight. The leading girl is out with a sprained ankle, so tonight you were given the honor to dance as the Primadona, front and center on the stage. You twirl and strut up to the front, the women behind you backing you up and mirroring your moves. They continue to spin and clear space in a geometric formation to give you room as you perform the finishing stunt.

With a deep breath of air, you perform an impressive high kick on the crescendo beat that transitions into a backwards somersault and ends in a split at center stage.

A roar of applause and whistles comes from the crowd of wealthy men and women watching you.

All except one.

You lock eyes with a lone gentleman sitting front and center at a round booth table in the dimly lit room. He takes a long drag on his cigarette and even behind his dark aviators you can feel his eyes on you. As though to confirm your suspicions, he lowers the glasses to the bridge of his nose, exhaling a plume of smoke as he stares directly into your irises.

He brings his cigarette back for another hit, the small flame highlighting a horrible looking scar that goes the length of his cheek, and as the curtain falls, his creased, glowing blue eyes are the last you see of him.

The truth is… Adler’s had his eyes on you ever since that first night on the cameras. Tonight, he came down just to see your show in person. You’re just as good as you are on camera. Perhaps, even better.

No... definitely better.

He’s been reviewing your track record as of late. You took ballet lessons ever since you were just four years old. Won several awards for dances and even some state level beauty pageants. Joined the dance club at your highschool and got a scholarship from it to put you through college. You’re trained classically, but it would appear the only jobs you’ve ever gotten are clubs, bars, and casinos just like this one.

Adler smirks to himself, thinking of your pretty young face as he takes another drag. Maybe you're not as innocent as you seem.

He can work with that...

#SFJKSJSLJ I CAN'T BELIVE I'M DOING THIS 😭😭#SOMEONE COME GET ME #don't read this y'all lmao #black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler #russell adler x reader #gangster au

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chunhua-s · 4 years ago

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WITH OUR FATES TANGLED TOGETHER ➽ ATSUMU MIYA X READER

requested by: @tsumue

➪ hi davi! so, as you know i fell deeply in love with your soulmate fics (a while ago and so did some of my friends!!) your writing is really beautiful and i couldn't stop myself from intruding your inbox🥺 if it's not too stupid or uninspiring could i mayhaps ask for a soulmate scenario angst to fluff (only if you feel up for it!) with atsumu? thank you!🤍

genre: angst to fluff

soulmate au: soulmates are bound together by a red string

warnings: angst — my ability to write this genre isn’t necessarily the best :v but i tried my best with it, and i did enjoy the experience! hopefully with time i’ll be able to write more and get better at it!

you meet your soulmate at age sixteen.

the fear that grips at your heart is mind numbing. it sinks cold fingers into your neck and bruises it with a cruel hand that cuts off all air from your lungs, and leaves you empty so that the only other thing you can feel is hot, hot anger.

the anger isn’t yours — the red chord that’s gotten all tangled up between your fingers tells you as much. instead, it belongs to him.

the him who stands before you with hard brown eyes and lips pressed into a thin line. the him who you’d always wanted to meet ever since that red chord tangled itself between your fingers at the age of seven. the him whose name you’d dreamed of without ever knowing it, had fantasized about how it would feel to let it roll from your tongue. he’s here — you’ve finally met your soulmate, but why does the red chord that connects you two together feel so heavy all of a sudden?

miya atsumu sighs, lifting a hand to run through his sweat-matted blond hair: your eyes follow the motion. it was easier to watch that red string and think about the way it wrapped around his fingers than to meet brown eyes that burned under a muted fury. “look, i—“ the voice that you always imagined would cause your heart to take flight on butterfly wings reaches your ears on a cold, flat tone that locks your body down to a barren winter land. “i know this isn’t what you expected for when you meet your soulmate.” by the time you finally pull your eyes to look at his face, they’re burning with tears and blur the image of him until he’s a blend of colours you can’t tell apart. his lips move behind a sheet of haze, like a spell cast over your vision that should protect you from breaking.

“but i don’t think i can be together with someone else right now.”

that spell can do nothing for your heart that rips apart underneath the blunt end of his blade.

when he looks at you, there’s something behind the light of anger and hatred — hatred for you, why does he hate you, you don’t understand... did you do something wrong? what you see behind flames of brown sugar and autumn leaves is a chasm: wide and glaring and so consumingly empty. it spits on the bedtime stories of warmth and unimaginable joy and fulfillment that a soulmate should bring — it chews on those fairytales and coughs them out on a plate of cold indifference, hate, contempt. and it hurts.

“o-oh,” you choke. there’s no way you can meet his eyes like this; your voice is cracking under the weight of your pain and your tears threaten to paint your skin with the colour of blood red agony. “i... I understand.” you don’t. this isn’t what your friends told you would happen. nothing prepared you for your own soulmate to reject you. “that’s fine, i—” breathing becomes hard, your very lungs reject the air that you so desperately drag between your trembling lips. when you look up at him, what hope that you feel is quickly smothered when you catch his eyes. he looks at you as if the sight of you here, on the verge of tears, disgusts him. “i can wait for you... i don’t mind.”

he scoffs: the sound of it is like the grating of metal against your ears. “sure, whatever.” and that’s how he leaves you. broken hearted and crying for the ache that cripples your body as the red chord tightens around your fingers.

now, the picture of him standing before you is so jarringly different that it causes your world to spin so violently that you feel as if your legs might collapse in on themselves. your reality turns itself on its side so that your cup spills out from between your hands and leaves your heart vulnerable to the cold water that floods through your body.

atsumu miya’s eyes are searching as he stands beneath the winter night’s sky, the brown colour in them filled up with a warmth that you know for a fact wasn’t there on that day you met him. there’s pain on his expression, regret so tangible that it tastes sour on your tongue, and when he says your name on trembling lips, you feel the last of your will crumble into dust.

“y/n...” he’s pleading. his eyes are wet with the same tears that had touched your cheeks throughout the two years he’d left you waiting. they tell the story of unmistakable suffering and agony — the familiarity of it tears your heart into pieces and leaves you gasping for air. “please.”

and oh, by the gods above, you want so desperately to welcome him into your arms, want nothing more than to hold him so that you can feel whole for the first time since meeting him. but the pain that still echoes inside your chest is loud and demanding, rumbling through your ribs like a thunderstorm that pushes words you don’t want to say out from between your lips. when they fall, they reach atsumu’s skin like the little snowflakes that fall from the winter sky. they melt into his tears and dig their way into his heart until he’s left breathless because he knows just how he hurt you.

“you made me wait for so long, atsumu.”

he can’t begin to tell you how much he regrets it.

“i’m sorry...” his apology falls from him like a whimper. it dances on his tongue so that he can taste the salt of his own tears. he discovers that it’s awfully bitter. “I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

the emptiness, the helpless acceptance in your voice echoes inside his mind. “i was so close to giving up, you know? i thought you’d be happier if you weren’t tied down to me...”

he knows. god, he knows. every minute of pain and hurt had trickled down to him through the red string that connects the both of you, and the knowledge that you suffered so much because of him, it tears him apart as he stands before you.

“no, please— i can’t live without you...”

he really can’t. he tried to forget about you. he threw himself out into a reckless life and ate the hearts of others who sought for his affection, hoping that they could somehow erase the wretched piece of cloth that tied him down. he submerged himself underwater hoping to breathe, and found himself drowning without you.

“you hurt me.”

“and i was selfish, i know...” he reaches out for you on a single, hesitant step that crumbles the snow beneath his shoes. when you don’t step away, he takes another, pushes himself forward until you’re standing directly in front of him, tear-stained eyes tilting upwards to stare into his. they’re burning, you notice: the fire that consumes the brown in them this time, though, is different. it’s changed.

he reaches for your hand, holds it between the both of his and cups it close to his chest, and his eyes never leave yours. they reveal to you the secrets that his lips won’t tell to you, they bare every ounce of yearning that his spirit screams out silently, and it’s as if every cell in his body is desperate to feel you against him when you can feel the heat of him through your gloves. “but let me make it up to you...” his whisper falls underneath the soft winds, it caresses your skin just as gently and, as you’re looking up at him, your soulmate, you can’t help the tears that sting behind your eyes. you realize that, just like back then, his image is blurred by the curtains of water, but now he glows like the sun itself. everything about him manages to warm your heart on a cold winter night, and god knows you’ll never forgive the pain that he’s caused you — all those years filled with doubt and insecurity and despair — but you think to yourself as you lift one of his hands to hold against your cheek that, at the very least, you want to take a chance with him.

his eyes shine like the stars when you show him a watery smile. “yes...” you whisper back to him. he thinks the sound of it is sweet, and he imagines that your voice may be what it means to dance among sunflowers.

“i want to take a chance with you, atsumu.”

haikyuu!! soulmate au taglist: @nishiya-is-baby

general taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy

send an ask to be added!

so this is admittedly one of my shorter works and i did struggle a little with transitioning from angst to fluff :( i originally had two ideas, this one which is mostly angst, and another that’s mostly fluff, but in the end i decided to go with this one since i know runa likes angst a lot :0 bb i hope it was okay!

for atsumu’s character in this i wanted to push across that he didn’t want to be tied down with a soulmate when he had his volleyball aspirations to follow through with. although i don’t recall it being specifically stated in canon, i get the feeling that his dedication towards volleyball is nearly on the same level as kageyama’s and oikawa’s, where they wouldn’t be able to give themselves into a relationship when they had their dreams to seek after. so at the point in time when he meets the reader, he’d already decided to disregard any attachment for his soulmate, and so his attitude towards them is a result of that decision he made. however, time spent intentionally trying to separate yourself from your soulmate causes suffering and i wanted to show in the end that it was that pain and longing that finally drove him back to the reader. i feel like if i’d shown from atsumu’s perspective, i could have portrayed that pain and suffering that he’d have gone through without her, but i really wanted to show that through the reader instead. did it work well?

this is part of a series, so please send me an ask or dm if you’d like to be apart of a taglist! i’m currently taking request for haikyuu characters and soulmate au’s, so please come and leave your requests for those as well! thank you for reading! ♡

previous: hajime iwaizumi | next stop: requests are open!

#haikyuu!! soulmate au 💕✨#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu soulmate au #runa!! 🌻

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konietzko-sylvoran · 3 years ago

Photo

“In memory of so many whom we've lost, this next one is a personal message to every elf of every creed. A roué cyr act which follows meant to inspire elvish solidarity. Written and performed by the Heart of Tenacity's Konietzko Lumenstone, we give you One more Dorei.”

(Written/Timed Music Here)

The lights are dim so all that is seen is the silhouette of Kon’s figure sitting with his back to the audience. Above him higher up than he could reach even while standing is his LED cyr wheel. As the LEDs start to illuminate, they emit a soft glow making the wheel look like a giant moon in the sky above Kon’s figure. Dangling from the bottom of the wheel is a large banner on display. Two more lights on the right and left of the stage give spotlight to the banner on display so one can see every detail of it. The Shaldorien Silk banner, embroidered with Thalassian gold threads dons the traditional colors of each elvish nation, woven together in an elegant arrangement that's certain to inspire unity in their kinship! To anyone who had ever visited the Ashes of Alar booth at any event, it was clear this was the Banner of Accord made by Tenacious Tapestries meant to represent elvish solidarity. The stage wall behind the wheel and Kon both illuminate with starlight across a vast night sky of blue and violet. Kon’s dark skin glistens from the subtle light catching hints of the sparkling paint he’s coated in giving him the desired astral effect.

With his back still to the audience as he sits there, he raises his head up to stare at the night sky and the moonlit banner above as his dreadlocks kiss the small of his back tied back in a formal knot. His deep chocolate voice speaks aloud as the music begins to play. “We elves were once all Children of the Stars. All the same Dorei, children of the same light in the sky. No matter how old or young, we are all descendants of the starborne. Today, we are a race so divided and thinned that the few remaining lights among us have become dim with hatred, sorrow, and arrogance. Many of us know and understand the reasons why. Some, like me, have lived through most of them. And yet with all I’ve experienced, all I’ve endured, I keep looking among us all no matter our creed and asking the same thing. Is it so wrong of us to call one another brothers and sisters? In a time where unity is so needed in our world, where lights go out around us at an alarming rate, I ask that all dorei take a moment in to hear me out.”

Raising one hand up towards the sky backdrop, he arcs his hand one side to the other tracking a shooting star across the sky. “The kaldorei were once founders of Azeroth’s most magical and advanced civilization till forces out of our control came and divided us all. No matter our current race, we’ve all suffered great and tragic losses repeatedly over time and even currently. We’re no longer immortal.” He turns his head to the side to look to a single wisp as it approaches him from above and hovers at his side. Kon’s amber eyes were masked with subtle feathers and glitter along the cheekbones and eye ridges to look like that of an owl. “And yet in all the brilliance this world has to offer us, we have learned that none of it is meant to be kept. Not even our own souls. As time ticks on we each become mere flickers of light, mere moments in time.”

“I was but a boy when devastation wrought us all into several isolated groups and history continues to repeat itself as more and more dorei are created.” He holds his hand out to the wisp as it starts to slowly circle around him. “Separation, isolation, banishment, betrayals, fractured societies and exile have repeated themselves among the dorei time and time again. Each time our skin changes color, our hair and our eyes take on a new tone and the magic that we wield finds a new source changing us forever.”

“Time and history has taught us all how to fear, how to hate and how to change. But even with all our differences, rather we worship the moon, the sun, the void or whatever deity we choose, are we not still one dorei?” Slowly he rises to his feet wearing nothing but a uniquely designed legging with enchanted thread that hugs tight at his hips. “We’ve all derived from the magical in nature no matter how old our bloodlines are currently or how very new and altered they’ve become. Do we not all still have glowing eyes no matter their color? Though some have gotten shorter or longer, do our ears not all point at the end?” He reaches up and the cyr wheel lowers down towards him as he removes the Banner of Accord from the wheel. The wisp flew around the wheel and Kon both a few times before disappearing.

The magical thread along his leggings shimmer from hip to ankle as the threads change color to each elvish nation’s colors as he speaks of them. “Kaldorei, Quel’dorei, Ren’dorei, Sin’dorei, Shal’dorei and even Shen’dralar. We are all one people.” He turns to walk to the side of the stage and places the banner on a golden standard waiting there, letting it hang and display itself magnificently. “I believe in unity among us, that we need to show kindness to all and make sure no more fall. Respecting others is what we should do, who knows it might even spread more happiness too. At the end of the day even those who have strayed we are all the same. Noone is better than another, it’s not in a name.” He turns and walks back center stage as the sky illuminates in more and more stars behind him and his wheel starts to twinkle as if stars are slowly twinkling behind him. Kon faces the audience with amber eyes full of emotion and determination through his owl mask. “You never know when your life will be changed so don’t look down on others who face troubles of their own. We are all dorei, all children of the stars whose lights are just as important as all the others.” He slowly flourishes his hands out right and left. “My brothers, my sisters, a moment may be all we have left in the sky of a million stars. Care and respect are things we can all freely give. And for that last light you touch, it may even make this world a better place to live.”

In a slow, fluid motion he lowers himself down to bend one knee back through the wheel and the other forward as he bows his head. The wheel and stage go dark as spotlights go out all but the light on the Banner of Accord.

(Music for the second half here)

The cyr wheel lights back up, LEDs twinkling timed with the music. With practiced finesse, he rolls the heavy wheel on its edge, causing it to trace a slow path around him as he slowly rises up. The LEDs transition via soft fades from gold to soft blues to turquoise, reflecting the colors of the High elves, even his leggings and their magical thread match the colors. Hands both reach out then slowly curl into fists as he hugs them to his chest as if in pain. Turning his body to the side in a fluid movement, he reaches for the circling wheel then starts to slowly walk it around the stage in a wide slow circle with perfect timing to the music. His other hand rises and falls in time with the music to express a gentle magical emotion through movement. Everything is perfectly timed as if walking through memory.

The stage wall behind him starts to reflect colors that strongly suggest the feel and warmth of the sunwell’s magic. The Cyr wheel starts to lose the blues and greens, fading into more golden with droplets of red as did his leggings. Shadows crept through the backdrop as the colors became corrupt, flickering. With athletic precision he steps into the wheel with both feet and grabs the edges with both hands. Revolving in a continuous wide pattern resembling a waltz, he spins and turns synched with the music, conveying a delicate balance and grace as colors still flicker about him. One hand releasing the wheel, he reaches it up and out as if trying to chase after or grasp at some unseen force.

The moment the base hits the wheel LEDS become a flurry of red and golden patterns with occasional green trying to sneak in then fade or flicker out. With both hands now gripping the top of the wheel in a wide outstretched grip, he raises both feet off the wheel, extending his body out while facing down. As if flying midair for two spins, one foot comes back down and then flares back out making the wheel spin faster and faster all in sync with the patterns of the LEDS conveying the flurry of intense magic and emotion at the pinnacle of Blood elven society. He suddenly locks his shoulders and forces the wheel to make tighter spins as it starts to fall with his back to the ground! Resembling a coin losing speed as it becomes flatter it seems he might fall on his back with the wheel at any moment. The LEDs a flurry of confusing flashing colors trapping him inside the chaos showing just how difficult this move and the emotions he’s portraying are. His body remains locked, keeping him from falling and at the last second he throws himself into a handspring then brings the wheel and himself erect once more.

The stage backdrop became a giant violet dome with the night sky above it. The LEDs of his wheel and leggings are now variations of blues, violets, silvers and pinks, reflecting the colors of the Nightborne. Slipping out of the wheel, he keeps it spinning as both hands push it on a course with just enough force to keep the wheel freely orbiting around him. Kon stands at the center as his head turns down and eyes close as he brings his arms up across his chest as if holding himself. His right palm presses over his heart as he quivers, eyes opening slowly as he turns his head skyward, right hand raising up reaching to the stars. The LEDs suddenly become shrouded in a dark deep violet and the dome in the backdrop becomes swaying tendrils of the same color. Konietzko grasps at his head and mimics a blood-curdling scream without sound as his wheel takes on golden elements around the deep violet LEDS strongly reflective of the Void Elves.

Spinning on his toes he comes around to grab the wheel and with one more spin he steps back into it. His ankles together on one side of the wheel, syncing with the beat and a slight bend in his knees before pushing off still in the corner of the wheel. His body comes up perfectly parallel to the stage as the wheel quickly whips up and around bringing him back down. He bends his knees while it rotates and repeats his actions as the corner thrusts and momentum increases the speed of the wheel once more while displaying his total control of where the wheel spins and lands with each rotation. The LEDs swap between the prior color groups back and forth with every thrust.

As the beat picks back up the LED’s become a flurry of every elven nation’s colors in various patterns. Each time he spins the wheel a trail of color follows as starlight starts to fall around him. Placing his feet and arms both spread wide with a slight bend in the knees he brings the wheel to a fast rotation. However the wheel starts moving in a wide full revolution around the full circumference of the stage. Faster and faster he brings the rotation as his dreads spin about with him. At the peak of his speed around the stage, the LEDs and backdrop all burst into the kaleidoscope of a full night sky with stars of varying colors. Kon brings the fast spinning wheel center stage once more, back onto its own axis.

Using his built-up momentum he rises up suddenly, bringing himself up over the top of the wheel as one leg wraps over the top of it and the other bent and pointing in the opposite direction. He raises his hand up high as he spins among the stars truly living in the moment. The LEDs of the wheel start to take on more purple, golden and silver hues all together, the colors of the Night Elves. After a few more rotations, he unwraps his leg and lowers himself back down as he shows his athletic precision, suspending himself from the top mid-spin. Feet tucked up, he points one toe down till it softly touches the bottom of the wheel. His hand comes out while the wheel continues to spin and flourishes out towards the audience at the lyrics of who cares if one more light goes out. He then stops the wheel in a slow and graceful spin as he steps out of it and then motions to himself as his free hand places itself on his chest before he takes a deep bow before them all and the LEDs fade away into nothing but that night sky of all dorei.

((A huge shout out to @lunethdawnseeker and the Ashes of Alar vendors who have always been so wonderful and kind to Kon and Talthorn every event we meet them at! The moment the thought occurred to write this performance to inspire elvish solidarity which Talthorn and Kon are both so passionate about, I instantly knew that the Banner of Accord had to be used within it so a big thank you to Luneth and their Tenacious Tapestries for giving me permission to use it in Kon’s performance. It has a very special place on their wall at home where they proudly display it as a sign to all who enter. All credit for the banner goes to them and their original design! The following performance was written for the @succulent-tart In Memoriam show 9.18.2021 - in honor of Chester Bennington’s One More Light and every fallen elf of every race we’ve lost over the years.))

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softkuna · 4 years ago

Text

Sukuna || Interview || Fic

Part 1

Content ║ Punk!Sukuna x reader. There is an oc version here.

Beauty wasn’t in the eye of the beholder, no, it is in the mind. Sukuna was enraptured. Addressed again, he shifted his posture, leaning into the arm of the couch as she did with her chair. The two were close in their cohort. An air of comfortable conversation lingered between them, much to his dismay. Her question wasn’t unusual. He’d been asked it in the beginning of his career and one where he had a planned answer.

Count ║ 2,626 K

Consider ║ Swearing. Female Pronouns (she/her).

Creator ║ This is the reader version. I took the name of the oc out. Hopefully the double post isn’t too weird? I did research on punk fashion, culture, and all which was really interesting. I knew some stuff about it before, but it’s really rich! I hope it’s not too information dense for you guys. Either way, Punk!Sukuna is now my comfort au and writing him is an absolute delight!! Also, Sorry for changing from ‘you’ to she/her ;v; it’s a lot easier for me to write/edit this way.

Sukuna had a lazy grin as he lounged back into a modern cream sofa. His arm stretched across the back of it, ankle crossed over his knee. Eyes staggered from the two cameras set up to the woman talking with some other chick. One held a small stack of papers, the other was grandly gesturing. He breathed out a short-stop breath, wishing they wouldn’t waste his time with bickering. Annoying as it was, it left a thick self-satisfactory lather over his ego.

“-didn’t you say the band?”

“Yeah, but this is better.”

“Sure… but what happens if-“

Quite frankly, he hated most press and avoided it, so to just have him in the hot seat was a double-edged blade. They didn’t get the whole band, but they did have The King himself. Whatever publicity he thrived off of were live shows, signings, fancams, tangible and real-time events. Interviews were a complete and utter waste of his time. He did a couple in the beginning, but found them pointless, callous even. They all asked the same shit. So, him coming alone was absolutely a note to pin to the fridge, even if it were a passive-aggressive post-it note.

His head turned to the two going back and forth. It wasn’t until the third minute ticked by that Sukuna felt the flashpoint of his blood plummet, “Yo! We doing this or what? You’re wasting my time here, Eros.”

The blogger whipped her head to the man with an indignant, “Excuse me?”

“Eros. Known for being reckless and unreliable? Like your scheduling.” He leaned forward, elbow on knee and chin in palm. The aura of shit-eatery exponentially growing, “You’re not excused, sorry, not sorry Princess.”

“I think you have the wrong God,” She quipped as she dusted off the front of her outfit. It was a smart look and an intentional one for an interview with a punk rocker. What would strike the best complement than a khaki academic outfit? It consisted of a white high collared button up, sleeves billowing before cinching at her wrists. The blouse was stuffed into high-waisted, cuffed khaki chinos, pleated at the center of each pant leg. Over top, a gray woolen sweater vest. Accessories included various silver rings, a black ribbon to tie under the folded collar, and small silver studs as earrings. Makeup remained that done-up natural with brow, liner, and mascara. Hair had been swept into something similar to a faux 1920’s bob, pulled loosely back. The overall silhouette made the perfect contrast.

Sukuna wanted to peg her as your average superficial fashion bitch, he really did. Even at the concert, she dressed smartly despite the pathetic look on she wore on face. It wasn’t until afterwards when he saw the burn in her eyes, that he craved for her to prove him wrong.

Black flats clacked as she approached her own seat, a matching armchair to the couch. She held a certain command once she walked in, instructing him on where to be, which camera to look at, and what the introduction would be. He listened, admiring how her small frame moved to and fro, fixing up last minute edits on a paper, chattering with who he assumed to be a videographer. It was a whole production. One that was hers. The set itself was practically out of a home décor magazine. It was a general space used across the publisher, but she was born to be there. Deserved to be there. Her calculated glee and deliberate positioning of each member made him feel as though he were looking through a mirror.

The interview process began.

She sat professionally, legs crossed and leaning on the arm of her chair closest to Sukuna. He was unmoving, that slit to his lip curling upwards as the cameras began. She introduced the blog, the channel, her social media handles. With a smile, she introduced herself, “With me in this special is lead singer of Two Face, the King of Curses – Sukuna.”

The camera panned to his lazy wave, “Yo.” He looked to her, she looked to him and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of interest. Maybe the man was meant for cameras after all.

“After looking more into the punk scene, there’s a pretty interesting history behind it. Revolution, social discourse, poverty, violence, and unity. As someone in the scene, can you talk a little bit about what you know of the background?”

Sukuna drank in her voice, smooth and warm like the steady strum of a bass guitar. For a moment, he wondered if she sang. He quirked a brow, “Sounds like you didn’t research enough to summarize it yourself,” Eyes flickered to her features, watching as slight annoyance crinkled onto her nose then smoothed, “Let me learn you, Daisy. Starting back from rock in the 50’s, take that, strip it, build it with shit you find in the backyard…” His wrist rolled as his harmonious voice sang on, lacking even a single stutter as he summarized the movement top to bottom, inside and out, “…So, people would make their own records, sell them in plastic bags, they’d scan and reprint photos to make their own ‘zines. Shit was hard to distribute without tech…”

Much of his dissertation, she hadn’t even found on her own deep dive into the culture. Sure, the anarchist and nihilistic ideologies were well known to pretty much anyone who would listen, but the deep history and connection between communities was far beyond the surface scratched into.

“There’s a crowd of sub-genres now. Fuck ‘punk is dead’ what even is that bull shit?” Sukuna scoffed, jerking his chiseled chin to the side, “Only thing that’s dead here is – ironically – peoples drive to change.”

His interviewer sat in silence for a moment, mind spinning. He spoke in the way a well-educated University professor gave a dissertation to his peers, dripping in confidence from his storm of information. He was articulate despite the fowl language, even including a tie in to modern perception. Excitement curled into the recess of her mind. In a delightful turn of events, expectation and reality didn’t match up.

She leaned forward slightly folding her hands over the arm of the chair, “That was comprehensive. Thanks!” She chuckled, causing the man before her to freeze and thaw with a nod. She continued, “With all of this mention of D.I.Y. culture in punk, let’s talk about Vivienne Westwood.”

Sukuna kept his attention to her profile as she spoke to the camera, catching himself in the glow of her enthusiasm, “On Kings Road in England, she kickstarted the fashion movement into gear. Now, many would think that with a style such as this, it would’ve been hand-me-downs, pins, self-stitching, but contrary to this belief, many of the clothes in her store were expensive. Knock offs circulated, and seeing as much of it did have that hand-done finishing touch, many decided to take tailoring to their own hands…” Not that this was a competition, but she found herself trying to prove his ‘research’ comment wrong. Her ability to scour and exhaust her resources of fashion history is the furnace that kept her going and she would make it well known that she was not to be challenged.

The approaching lurch of a stalemate stuck to the walls of the vocalist’s stomach. Something he didn’t think he’d feel for a while. Small stuff over here may not’ve known all there was about the cultural history, but he could feel the crashing wave of fascination washing over him as she spoke. Sure, some of it he knew. Some of it he naturally garnered from stylistic preference and others he learned for marketing, however there was just a certain target she aimed for with such precision that he bled a newfound admiration.

“You’ve answered it already, yeah, I know. I saw the interview,” Her head tilted to the side, pleasant smile hinting at her trick, “but enlighten me for a second about how your natural style transitioned to what it is on stage. We’ll put up some of the photos taken from last night here,” her hand gestured to some empty space, “You basically turned chiaroscuro and made it a performance. It’s obvious in how each member contrasted with themselves and the stage.”

The chick didn’t even know who he was a week ago, yet somehow watched every interview since the start? An answer tumbled from the tongue readily, “Punk is like a renaissance of music. Like I said before, it tore down the foundations of what was before and built something new out of it.” The words were succinct, but as her pretty lashes bat, he was goaded into continuing, “Contrast is important. I like art. I like plays. Just ‘cause it’s punk doesn’t mean I can’t have it look aesthetic? Or is that a word only snobby fashion journalists can use now?”

“Hm. Change ‘journalist’ to ‘vocalist’ and you’re a word away from meeting the requirement,” It was a sour candy treat traded for his lemon warhead.

“Ouch. Miss Blog-Spot here has some sass,” His large frame leaned further into the armrest, cheek resting on that fist.

“Mister Eight-Track here is some a–“

The videographer clapped his hands, “We have sponsors, you know. We can at least censor him.”

It was Sukuna’s time to laugh a loud, hyena-like cackle. A large hand smacked his leather-clad knee. She scrunched her nose again, biting back her tongue from childishly jutting out at him.

As soon as the videographer clapped his hands again, she recollected herself, shuffled her papers, and continued on, “From what it looks like, you took a mixture of old and new high-trend brands and added a touch to them to keep with theme. Even now, you’re wearing a Real McCoy with cone spikes embedded. Is that custom made? McCoy isn’t cheap.”

Part of him hated her keen eye, but reveled in her raw talent all the same. “I’m not going to bull shit you and say I dumpster dive for my clothes. I like high quality things. What’s the point in making money if I can’t spend it? What’s a bigger ‘fuck you’ than having your version of a top-brand item being worth more than the original?” With a proud glint in his eye, he rolled the jacket off, sure to make a grand display of strong, bare arms as he did so. The muscle tank he wore was similar to the concert before, white with a pocket, neckline was stretched and worn. It hung over the dense muscle of his shoulders and chest. Sukuna could feel the trail of her eyes on him. His chest puffed from her approval. He threw the jacket over his knee, flipping the leather inside out to show where the studs had been placed, “See this? Did it myself.”

Manicured fingers touched the inside of the jacket, thumbing the connecting points that the studs were pressed in by and sealed. The work was immaculate. Sukuna leaned back, canines gleaming as he saw her mouth move in a silent ‘wow’. He picked the front of his tank top, snapping it up and allowing it to billow back to his body, “Embroidered this, too.”

He waited for her comment, her praise. Why? Like he needed some two-bit Vanderbilt bitch’s validation. He chalked it up to being praised by a master of the craft. He hadn’t been prepared for her to take the fabric between her fingers and rub it, concentrated brows cinched like a corset. Well-toned abs flinched in response to her delicacy, but she didn’t notice.

The embroidery was messy and chaotic, but it was obviously intentionally. The way the needlework was so clean, barely leaving a hole from the pull of the exceptionally soft fabric. It wasn’t floral like in the concert, but abstract stitching created crosses and streaks here and there, using the composition of the fabric as like it were a canvas. Experimentalist. It was like touching the work of Westwood herself.

God, she hated how perfect it was. It squeezed her heart to know that he was so effortlessly multi-talented. She rubbed the fabric between her fingers once more, attention being stolen by his baritone voice. She could practically hear the treble in it, “Ey Princess, you think it’s okay to just touch me?” His breath caught under the arrogant teasing of his words. Not from the words themselves. Couldn’t care less about that. What choked him up was whatever resplendent emotion flared from them when she peered up to him.

“Let me check the tag.”

“What?”

The blogger leaned back, cheekily snapping the shirt as she did so. “Your shirt, can I check the tag? I want to see what its made out of. Also, sorry.”

Sukuna blinked twice, mouth stupidly hanging open before he leaned forward, “I’ll allow it.”

He may have tinnitus, but he wasn’t deaf enough yet to miss the mocking ‘I’ll allow it,’ muttered under her breath. He wanted to laugh, but for the second time, the graze of chilled fingertips along his skin shut him up. Along the back of his neck, she fiddled to flip the collar and tug it. Her eyes squinted and a hum escaped her throat. Sometimes she wished she could read upside down. That’s when she sat on the back on the sofa and leaned closer, pulling the shirt to better read the small print. If Sukuna were a cat, he’d lean his head into her. The thought physically bothered him.

“I knew it. It’s American Pima. Thanks for letting me check.”

He missed the shiver her touch gave him as she sat back into her chair.

“While I have more questions for you, this video’s gotten pretty long already, so we’ll have to cut it a bit short here,” She gave a closing statement, motioning for her guest to do the same. With a thanks, the cameras were cut.

While the editor and videographer chatted together, She leaned heavily into the back of her chair, poised posture slipping into something more comfortable. Long lashes slid closed and a heavy drag of breath lifted her chest. Sukuna’s eyes trailed along her form, contemplating Eros once more.

She exhaled sharply, “I do appreciate you coming on stage. It’s disgusting how talented you are.” She laughed, cracking an eye open to meet his, “I prepped a lot of questions thinking you’d be short with me. It’s a shame I only got to ask a few.”

He was surprised himself. It was more than just her talent to make him talk - she may have been the first to see him as an opportunity rather than a commodity. ‘She would be the first and last reporter to see me as a meal’ was the thought he had going into this interview. He had every single intention to shut down her buffet, make it apparent that he was not to be dined on by a single soul. Yet, if his dish were ‘opportunity’, hers would be ‘intrigue’. He wanted to devour it, to know its palette and identify its spices. It was a compulsory urge to order, just to see why he craved it in the first place.

“Film the next few concerts. Backstage.”

Tags: @lovesakusa

#⛩.sukuna #⛩.fic #⛩.punk #🍺.jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic

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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years ago

Text

An Endless Summer

Had an idea involving Gerik and Joshua for the longest time but kinda didn’t write it cause stuff that left me kinda irritated, but I like them enough that I went through with this even though the idea kinda changed a lot so not as content with this but it’s something. Especially since this kinda just evolved into a part 1 for an idea I have with Freyr that is gonna have a lot more weight gain stuff involved cause Freyr got me acting like a whore right now andsjfnbdjsna

Not much weight gain involved but I kinda felt like wriitng something more not kink related, so hope you enjoy!

"Ahh, now this is the life," The sun's bright, radiant rays beam down on the peaceful beach. Joshua reclines back into his lounge chair. The brim of his hat tipped ever so slightly, the bit of shade it offers his face is miniscule to the parasol’s shade that encapsulates the entirety of his lean, fit body. Enjoying the fine tranquil summer that Askr has to offer every year, this is Joshua’s first time enjoying such a fine treat in the World of Zenith. The sun’s heat far from overbearing, the pleasant warmth it provides is more akin to the comforting licks of a flame during Joshua’s usual tendency to camp out during his travels; the gentle breeze aids in cooling down whatever sense of extreme heat there could be.

Joshua reaches over to grab a drink from the tray right beside his lounging. His right arm not covered by his navy blue shawl draped to the side like its left counterpart, the small outline of his bicep becomes pronounced as he stretches it to grab his drink. His right arm being the only part of his upper body to be truly covered, his torso glistens with the slight bit of water still on it. A six pack available for all to glance and stare at, Joshua purposefully keeps his green swim trunks slightly low to show off his V-line. The deep red hues of the sash tied around his waist only further calls attention to his lower region, beckoning all eyes to land on him. His trunks leave zero room for imagination. They hug the delicate yet hard lines of his built thighs, the short trunks ending a bit above his knees to show off as much of his legs as he can. Joshua takes a small sip of his drink before letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Well,” A gruff voice sounds out as the person approaches Joshua. “You sure seem to be enjoying yourself,” Gerik comes back with some drinks in hand. He places them down on the tray. Zero pretense of modesty; unlike Joshua, Gerik merely wears a pair of gray swim trunks. These even shorter than Joshua’s own, they end at his upper mid thigh, Gerik’s thick muscled legs open for all of Askr to see. Bare chested, Gerik’s wide pecs jut out for all to see, his washboard abs seemingly glowing in the sunlight. Gerik’s built biceps bulge with pride with them on full display, his defined arms always ready for a show along with the rest of his body.

Joshua rolls his eyes from Gerik’s small talk. “I am. But, it is better now that the eye candy has shown up,” Grinning from ear to ear, Joshua repositions himself to get a better view of Gerik. Turning around, he rests on his side, the entirety of himself also meant for Gerik to look at.

Gerik guffaws. Taking a seat on his own lounge chair, Gerik rests on his back with his arms behind his head. The two sit in relative silence by then. The sounds of the oncoming waves and their fellow heroes enjoying themselves in the distance fill in for the complete lack of conversation between the two.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Joshua’s eyes lose the bit of hardness surrounding them, his eyes softening as he ponders at his partner.

“If you’re asking if I miss mercenary life and fighting, then yeah. But, I got nice weather, nice food and beer, and you,” Gerik tosses a wink Joshua’s way, to which Joshua groans in response despite the smile adorning his face.

“I wouldn’t mind extending this vacation, then. Askr’s finally at peace so I say we’ve deserved it,” Joshua whistles and waves. Gerik sits up.

Alfonse’s attention got, he walks on towards them. His body that of a warrior, his figure is more graceful than that of Joshua’s and especially Gerik’s. He wears a pair of swim trunks along with an unzipped swim jacket, his trim torso and legs wet from his recent dip into the ocean.

“Did you need something?” Alfonse asks. He keeps a straight face in front of the two swordsmen. Though he already expects something to be off from their sudden calling of him.

“Yeah. I seem to recall you owing me a favor,” Joshua taps his chin in a mockery of recollection.

“Yes. You saved the summoner where I could not,” Alfonse speaks nothing else, biting his cheeks instead from the memory.

“Well, I’d like you to speak to your summoner friend and have them extend this summer vacation. Indefinitely,” Gerik huffs in mirth from Joshua’s request. Before Alfonse can stammer out a response, Joshua raises his hand. “Actually, let’s gamble on it. I win, you get the summoner to extend this; you win, you do nothing and you can consider your favor paid off,” When no response comes from Alfonse, Joshua sighs. “Or, I can just go to the summoner and ask them directly. There’s no way they say no. I’m just helping you clear up this favor of yours,”

“Ugh, fine,” Alfonse mutters through gritted teeth. "I assume a coin flip,"

"Bingo. And you can even flip it," Joshua throws the coin, Alfonse barely reacting in time to catch it.

"I call heads," Alfonse lets out a small sigh. Flipping the coin up, his eyes never lose sight of the coin in the air. He gulps in anticipation. Time trickles even slower than a turtle, the coin flipping in the air as if mocking him. Refusing to make eye contact with either Joshua or Gerik, lest some sort of trickery occur in the millisecond he loses focus, Alfonse misses their cool, neutral demeanor. Holding his hand out, Alfonse gulps as the coin lands in his palm; gazing down at the coin, he groans from the result. The telltale image of tails burns into his eyes. "You win," Alfonse hands back the coin to Joshua without any more fuss.

"Consider your debt repaid," With a tip of his hat, Joshua sends Alfonse off.

Gerik reclining in his chair the entire time, he waits to speak up until Alfonse leaves. "So, how'd you pull it off?" A lazy grin is spread on his face.

"I left it up to chance," Joshua shrugs as he lets himself fall back down into his chair. "If I lost, then it was meant to be,"

"You would have gone to the summoner yourself,"

"Perhaps," Joshua takes a sip of his drink. "That doesn't matter. We have all of this summer and more to enjoy ourselves," Joshua sighs while relaxing further into his chair.

By the time the sun begins its descent and the usual beachgoers take their leave after a fair amount under the sun and the stands and parlors close, differences begin to slowly occur at the beach. Starting small, the only visible difference is the extra addition of an ice cream shack not too far from Gerik's and Joshua's usual place of relaxation. Ingredients brought to each place to replenish the previous days' used ones, those are nearly identical, the only difference being in the magical enchantments on them. Unbeknownst to everyone minus the summoner, the everlasting peaceful summer full of unmitigated rest and relaxation would happen regardless.

A simple extra ice cream shack merely the beginning on day one, the enhanced ingredients used in every beach establishment is the true pièce de résistance. Mixed in with every beverage, treat and meal, the effects are meant with a single simple end goal: fattening up heroes. Meant to lull heroes, the effects are minimal, only a slight addictive taste to it alongside a decrease to metabolism paired with an increase in hunger. A few establishments arranged throughout the beach as they always have been throughout the years of the order having its yearly beach vacation, more and more are added throughout the night to keep up with the increasing demand of its greedier heroes. Soon, they seem to litter the whole beach, not a single hero needing to go far to grab a bevvy of snacks and drinks to gobble down. Heroes no longer manage the places, each one transitioning into fully automated locations with the aid of technology from Niðavellir.

Joshua and Gerik still keep their usual semi secluded spot. The ice cream shack now renovated, it serves all manner of items. The two not quite as affected by the changes to normal beach life, their waistlines are a testament to it. Gerik is nearly unchanged, preferring to laze around with a few good drinks to enjoy a hearty meal later on, his abs are no longer the tight six pack they once were. His abdomen is a bit faded from the change in his activities, the slightest sliver of pudge making its place on his stomach. The rest of his body remains identical: a broad, powerful chest, bulging biceps, and thick, defined thighs make up the beast of a man. On the other hand, Joshua’s entire figure is clearly affected by an appreciation of lazing and grazing. A sizable paunch rests and sags over the hem of his tight swimming trunks. His wobbly thighs are bigger than his original waistline, Joshua requiring an out of breath waddle to get around. A new pair of trunks needed to keep up with his expanding figure, these ones seem to be near their end. Joshua’s meaty slabs of fat known as his ass jut out behind him to stretch the already stretchy material to its limits in all directions alongside his plump thighs. A defined pair of moobs rest atop Joshua’s shelf of a stomach as he lounges around in his upsized chair. His arms are no longer lean with muscle, instead the flour bag for arms rest on him.

“I mean this,” Bending down, Gerik grabs a meaty handful of Joshua’s stomach. The pale flab slotted inside, he jiggles the mass. “Was this part of your plan when you said you wanted to relax,”

Gerik comes back from grabbing food carrying a tray holding a few treats. He deftly places it on the table besides Joshua. “Is this what you wanted?”

Joshua glances at the plate, his double chin becoming more pronounced for a few moments. “Yeah,”

Joshua noncommittally shrugs. “Eh. I certainly didn’t plan for this,” Joshua gives his gut a smack, grinning at the way Gerik stares at his jiggling frame. “But, I definitely don’t mind. And I’d say you don’t either,” Joshua reaches over to grab an ice cream sandwich, the cold sweet treat calling his name. “Or else you wouldn’t be so willing to fetch me everything,” Joshua’s eyes widen as Gerik yoinks the ice cream from his hands.

“Guess so,” Making himself comfortable, Gerik sits down. On Joshua. His thighs straddling Joshua’s he peers down at the fat former swordsmen. One hand free, he gingerly rests it on Joshua’s belly. He rubs slow circles into the plush, malleable fat. “Now, open wide,” With a great big grin on his face, Gerik brings the ice cream sandwich to Joshua’s lips. The faint red whispers of a blush mar his cherubic face as he opens up as told. Joshua obediently bites at the portion offered to him. Chewing away, more of it is already waiting for him. “We don’t have time to lose; you still have a whole plate to finish,”

“The food’s not going anywhere,” Joshua remarks, albeit before a hearty bite of the food.

“Not like you go anywhere either. All you do is eat and sleep,” Gerik retorts with a few gentle pats of Joshua’s stomach. Joshua finishes the ice cream sandwich only for a popsicle to be offered to him.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Joshua teases. He takes bites out of the offered popsicle, making quick work of that before Gerik hands him a plate of fish and chips.

“Nothing,” Gerik smiles. While Joshua eats away, Gerik takes a few sips of his drink. His eyes never lose sight of Joshua’s cherubic face and his pleased noises as he noisily eats away.

“Good,” Joshua finishes the diesh only for a milkshake straw to be placed by his lips.

“Last thing. It’s getting late,” Joshua slurps through the milkshake, a cold few huffs coming out with each interspaced pause.

“This it?” Despite his behavior, the day’s multiple earlier meals are clearly catching up to his stomach, his current ‘snack’ a bit too much.

“Don’t want you to overdue it,” Gerik leans down the instant Joshua finishes the thick, cold beverage. “Besides, we got plenty more days to fill you up,” Gerik sinks into Joshua’s stomach as he kisses him.

“Y-yeah….” Joshua utters before a grin creeps onto his face. “A guy could get used to this,” Joshua’s grin remains as he leans against Gerik, the two gladly enjoying the strange summer changes.

#my writing #male weight gain #fat fiction #fat emblem #feeder emblem #fat!Gerik #fat!Joshua

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fandom-space-princess · 4 years ago

Text

Follow Where You Lead

midam week prompt 1: Impulsive - acting or done without forethought

Rating: General Audiences [1.6k words, fluff] Michael doesn't do impulsive. Being with Adam may just change that yet.

read below the cut, or on AO3

Adam is cooking when, for the first time since his return to life, he hears his favorite song.

The local DJ spins a set of mid-2000s pop hits. Rhythmic bass and powerful vocals simmer through the air, compel him into humming and tapping along with his hands on every available surface as he moves through the kitchen. Each song stirs nostalgia in his chest, a happy glow.

Michael putters alongside him, digging through a low cupboard in search of a glass baking dish. Adam, sliding past, transitions seamlessly from tapping fingers along the countertop to drumming on Michael's shoulders instead. From where his head is buried in the cupboard comes a faint huff of amusement.

Then the track change hits. Drums, precise and powerful. Commanding bass. A guitar intro that had been going for the jugular since 2005 and never, ever stopped.

Adam grins wide, all teeth. Reaches for his phone and fiddles with the volume - there has only ever been one way to listen to this song (loud). Tips back his head and all but shouts the opening line.

"Am I more than you bargained for yet?..."

Michael startles, bumps his head against the top of the cupboard. He sprawls backward with an oof, peering up at Adam from the floor with a look of such unearthly confusion that Adam can't help but laugh, even as he reaches down to clasp his arm and help him up.

"Man, I haven't heard this in ages! C'mon, Michael. Dance with me!" He's catching at Michael's wrists, leading him out of the kitchen and into the clearer space of the dining room. Michael follows, and even through his obvious hesitation he smiles. Adam's joy is infectious.

"I don't... know how to dance to this." Michael leans into Adam's space anyway, pitching his voice to carry over the sound.

"Nobody knows how to dance to this, that's part of the appeal." Adam rolls his eyes and just pulls Michael after him, swaying and spinning and singing along.

It's almost like time travel. For three minutes and 49 seconds, he might swear he's 15 all over again. Young and free and — he glances at Michael, draws him closer with hands on his hips and laughter in his eyes — in love, happier than a younger Adam would have ever believed his future self could grow to be. Dancing and singing in the kitchen with an angel. An angel who, though his brow still crinkles with amusement and his enthusiasm for this weird little artifact of human culture could never match Adam's own, is willing to cook with him and dance with him and stay with him and love him back.

The future, Adam thinks, is turning out to be pretty great.

-----

"I bet I can do it."

"I don't doubt that you're capable, I'm only saying that it may not be precisely wise."

The park is almost empty, save for a few sparse joggers or dog-walkers, and the old oak tree under which they stand spreads limbs invitingly down to them. In the warm spring sunlight, the soft leaves and strong branches offer a tempting perch, and the tree's position at the top of the hill on which they find themselves creates a natural overlook.

The view from up there, Adam thinks, is probably spectacular.

"I'm gonna do it." Adam grasps the lowest branch, then lifts his feet to let it take his weight. Solid. He grins. "Come on, Michael, what's the worst that can happen? You can't tell me you're scared of heights."

Michael appraises him skeptically, from where he continues to pointedly manifest standing on the ground. "What if you fall?"

"You won't let me fall and we both know it. Relax a little. This is what most people call 'fun.'" Adam clambers up onto the next branch, edges his way around the tree trunk, and pulls himself higher still.

"Adam you are attracting attention get down from there," Michael hisses through gritted teeth. He looks around. A woman and child pass them on the trail nearby, the child goggling up at him and tugging her mother's sleeve as she points. He waves. The woman smiles and shakes her head, chuckling, and they continue on their walk.

"See?" He says, leaning out to stare down at Michael. He arches an eyebrow, challenging, playful. "She didn't care. You shouldn't either. Come onnnn, Mike. The view up here is great. Live a little. Climb the tree."

The view from the top is, indeed, spectacular.

Adam nestles himself on a strong bough about three-quarters of the way up (past which the branches become too spindly for even his sense of adventure). Spread out in panorama below, the town is alive with the midday hum of people moving about their business: cars on the streets, pedestrians on the sidewalks, shopping and working and just... living.

Michael manifests next to him on the branch with a huff. He curls close to Adam, arm around his shoulders.

"No fair just appearing up here," Adam says with a grin. "You have to climb up it to get the full experience."

The expression the archangel gives him is dubious to say the least, but there's an underpinning of mirth there, too. He shakes his head at the foolishness of his human, and Adam tips his head onto his shoulder.

Michael leans his head back against Adam's, and hums thoughtfully. They sit in companionable silence for long moments. Then, with a fondness in his voice that melts through Adam's heart and stirs warmth in his veins:

"You were right," he whispers, "about the view."

-----

Adam dangles his feet over the edge of the sheer basalt cliff, peering out over the drop. "Ok, yeah. That's a long way down."

The waters churning over the cliffside rumble in profound natural agreement with the sentiment. Nearly 200 feet of uninterrupted freefall into the basin below; the river is well-suited to the landscape around it. Like everything else in this place, from the high dusty scrublands to the plateaus and canyons carved out of the Earth by glacial floods in eons past, the waterfall is a thing of stark, severe beauty. Power and inevitability have shaped it, without remorse, and the awe it commands is due as much to this as anything else.

Some things need no ornamentation to show their glory.

They have come out here, away from people, from civilization, to think, to just be. Michael often needs open spaces and solitude upon returning from Heaven. Adam understands. The few times he had accompanied the archangel back there, it had felt... not claustrophobic, exactly. But it was no longer the monastic haven of family of Michael's memories, and though the ghosts that roamed those halls weren't Adam's, in haunting Michael they haunted him as well.

"You don't have to keep going back, you know?" He prods Michael gently across their shared mindspace, at the place near the back of his consciousness where he is most aware of the archangel's brooding silence. "If it makes you miserable, you should stay away for awhile. They would understand."

I really can't, Michael sighs. His grace, where it brushes Adam's mind, feels exhausted, bruised, worn thin. It had been a long day. I have a duty to them. Every time I return it seems there is only more to be done.

Adam lays back onto the hard earth, crosses his hands behind his head. Closes his eyes. "There's always going to be more to be done, Michael. You need to set boundaries around how much they can ask of you. Even though they're your family." He pauses, considering. "Especially because they're your family."

Overhead, a pair of hawks circle each other, gliding along updrafts in the cloudless sky.

"When was the last time you made a real decision, an important one, that was just about you?" His voice is quiet. Adam presses a hand over his heart, where Michael most often seems a physical presence within his body, a weighty coil of energy and light. "Not for Heaven, or for Jack, or for your brothers. Or even for me. When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to?"

A handful of heartbeats pass, during which the only sound is the rumble of the falls and the breeze over shifting sands. Then Michael stirs within him, muted heat pressing back against his chest and the fleeting impression of a sly smile just behind his lips.

When I decided to stay with you, he murmurs, joy and gratitude suffusing through their body. Adam melts under the embrace of it.

"I love you, too," he says. A thought grabs hold of him, then, pulls him in and won't let go, and he stumbles to his feet with a giggle. "Hey, come out here a second. I wanna ask you something."

The archangel appears next to him, one hand tangled in his own, eyes soft and joyful. "Anything you like. What is it?"

"Do angels get married?"

Michael blinks, once, surprised. "Not generally, no."

"Do you want to?"

He looks back at Adam with a quizzical tilt of the head. Emotions roil within him: hesitation and confusion, yes, these by reflex, but underneath a vast resounding happiness that bubbles up within his grace and sings through their veins. Adam meets it with patience, and with love.

"I..." he starts, and looks away for a moment. But Adam squeezes his hand, gently, and it's like throwing a light switch: Michael is smiling back at him with a radiance to rival the sun. "You know, I think I do."

One long peal of laughter wells up out of Adam's throat, and then he's running, straight at the edge. He clears the precipice in one headlong leap, arms extended and laughter still ringing back to him off the canyon walls. Michael's voice joins with his own, and his wings burst into being at their shoulders.

Together they ride the air currents higher and higher, twisting up and away, into the sky.

#happy midam week y'all #this is just fluff #michael spn #adam milligan #midam #midam week #spn #fanfic #mine #my fanfic

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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago

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Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more!

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse.

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself.

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!”

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud.

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back.

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.”

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform.

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?”

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!”

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?”

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou?

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.”

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?”

You’re afraid of the answer.

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness?

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here?

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A.

It was the half-truth.

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.”

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him.

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak.

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!”

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!”

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass - and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic.

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate.

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you.

“And you must be Y/N? Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.”

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over.

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?”

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time.

“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.”

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need.

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time.

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace.

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha #bnhabookclub #bnha x reader #fanfic-me-up #bnha fanfic #mha #mha x reader #mha fanfic

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precuredaily · 3 years ago

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Precure Day 208

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 Go Go! 10 - “It’s Here! The Power of the Blue Rose!" Date watched: 16 April 2021 Original air date: 6 April 2008 Screenshots Transformation Gallery Project info and master list of posts

~mysterious~

Scorp knows his days at Eternal are numbered if he doesn’t get his act together, so he and Bunbee conspire on their most devious plan yet, pushing the Precures to exhaustion. But at the eleventh hour, a savior appears.... let’s dig in!

The Plot

The girls are hanging around at Natts House on a day off, goofing around, when suddenly the Rose Pact starts to glow intensely. The group assumes it’s King Donuts at first, but he’s already standing beside it. Instead, Flora emerges, and the opening credits play.

After the intro, she warns them that darkness is gathering its strength to tear apart the Red Rose, and they’ll need to bring together the power of the Red and Blue Roses. Somehow, her message manages to be both literal and cryptic at the same time. As quickly as she appeared, she disappears back into the Rose Pact, leaving everyone to stew on her words.

Meanwhile, at the Eternal Mansion, Scorp comes to deliver his report to Anacondy and finds Bunbee eavesdropping outside of her office. Bunbee mentions he heard her say something about an underground storehouse, which scares Scorp. After handing over his report, he talks privately with Bunbee and explains that Eternal is unforgiving to employees who fail to perform, condemning them to an underground labyrinth for all eternity. Bunbee freaks out hilariously, but Scorp tells him that he has a plan to save both of them.

We rejoin the girls at school, tending to the lawn with the rest of the student body (cultural note: Japanese students are usually responsible for the upkeep and general maintenance of their schools). They discuss Flora’s prophecy, somehow having a conversation despite all being a considerable distance from each other and facing different directions.

They recognize that the Red Rose being torn apart refers to them, but they still don’t know much about the Blue Rose. Nozomi assures everyone that everything will be fine, because they always pull through. She gathers her friends to hold hands in a circle, hearkening back to when she rescued them from the Kowaiina masks in the previous season.

Syrup and Coco show up to further discuss the warning. Syrup is very cynical but Coco, who knows firsthand the kind of trials the girls have overcome before, reassures him, and they agree to walk home together with the girls after school. The wind blows, scattering some rose petals, which leads to a transition to Natts House where Nuts picks up some rose petals of his own. He flashes back to an earlier conversation between the fairies about Flora’s prophecy, where King Donuts warned them that her predictions were absolute and the Precures should be extra cautious. Although not directly confirmed, this is probably why Coco and Syrup were so concerned. Nuts stares at the darkening sky in concern.

After school, the girls wait for their escorts home, but Scorp appears first, sarcastically offering to take them himself. They transform into Precure, but instead of fighting them, Scorp teleports to a short distance away. The team gives chase, and Scorp teleports again as it begins to rain. He continues to teleport, leading the team further and further away from the meeting point. The farther they chase him, the more intense the rain gets. Meanwhile, Coco, Nuts, and Syrup appear at the meeting spot, confused about where the girls are. Suddenly, Bunbee appears before the human fairies, saying that his business is with them as he transforms in an intimidating manner.

Scorp ultimately leads the Precures to an open field, where he finally stops and declares this should be far enough. The girls barely have enough time to ask him what he means before Bunbee teleports beside him, holding Coco, Nuts, and Syrup in their fairy forms, all looking a bit worse for wear. Scorp remarks that they are a part of the collection after all, just not very high on the list, and the two villains laugh. The Cures are all aghast at what’s unfolding, but Dream is the first to snap and charge at the villains, ready to kick their asses and retrieve her friends. However, when she tries to punch Scorp, he teleports out of the way, causing her to lose her balance and fall on the wet ground. Rouge and the other girls rush in to save her and get the fairies back, but they all slip and slide on the wet grass. Scorp and Bunbee just block and repel their attacks and throw them about. It’s a pretty brutal throwdown. At one point Mint charges Bunbee, demanding he give the fairies back, so he maliciously complies by swinging them directly into her trajectory, forcing her to stop her momentum. He takes advantage of this to punch her away. After a thorough trouncing, the girls are in shambles. Scorp remarks that he doesn’t understand their cause at all, because the fairies are too weak to even protect themselves. Naturally the heroines rebut this, saying he wouldn’t understand their bond and the way they support each other, regardless of their physical limitations. Their words fall on deaf ears though, and Bunbee tells Scorp he’s going to go ahead and return to Eternal HQ with his captives (probably should have done that to begin with). Dream and co attempt to give chase, but Bunbee bombards them with his stinger missiles, and the girls are unable to withstand the barrage. Feeling too weak to move, all they can do is stare hopelessly as their old enemy flees with their precious comrades.

Suddenly, the sky clears and a gentle breeze blows, carrying blue rose petals. The source is quickly revealed to be a mysterious girl standing on the peak of a nearby rooftop. The camera slowly pans up, allowing the audience to absorb every detail of her costume before revealing her face. It’s an outfit vaguely reminiscent of the Cures, similar enough to signify that she’s not just an ordinary person. She has long purple hair and if there was any lingering doubt about her identity, she wears a blue rose right in the middle of her chest, as well as smaller ones on her forehead and the backs of her gloves. Her entrance is backed by celebratory triumphant music, making it clear that she’s on the good side.

She orders Bunbee to release Coco, Nuts, and Syrup. When he doesn’t, she jumps over and kicks him hard enough to make him let go. She grabs the fairies in midair and safely returns them to the Precures, who are still taken aback by her sudden appearance. Their mysterious savior doesn’t mince words though, scowling at Dream and telling her she isn’t good enough. Before she can continue her lecture, Bunbee tries to divebomb her, but she turns around and stops him with one hand without batting an eye. She then performs a kick, a block, and an elbow thrust that knocks him backwards into Scorp.

There is a tremendous amount of power in her strikes, even by Precure standards. With the villains indisposed for a moment, the girl in purple returns her attention to the Precures. She sternly reminds them that the most precious treasures are easily lost, and they need to work extra hard to protect them. There’s a sense that she has an attachment to the fairies but it’s not dwelled upon here. As Scorp and Bunbee recover themselves, Dream and the other Cures launch a final attack as well. Lemonade separates the two generals from each other with her Prism Chain, and then Mint and Aqua use their special attacks on them as well. Bunbee teleports out of the way and tries to attack the mysterious girl from behind, but she grabs his arm and yeets him across the field. As Scorp swoops in for another pass, the purple heroine prepares to retaliate, but Dream leaps over her and performs Shooting Star instead. He resists being crushed, but he’s barely able to hold her back. Bunbee urges him to retreat and they reluctantly disappear, leaving Dream to crash head over heels on the ground.

“I’m okay!”

Rouge, Lemonade, Mint, and Aqua rush to her side along with Coco, Nuts, and Syrup. She says she’s fine. The mysterious girl glares from afar, before turning her back and walking away. Dream notices that she’s gone, and everyone is silently questioning who she was. Some blue rose petals blow past again, and Nozomi ponders whether this girl was the Blue Rose. The scene fades to black and the ending theme plays.

The Analysis

At long last, the payoff to the Blue Rose arc! It’s far from over, but for now, the warrior with the power of the Blue Rose has debuted and that’s what counts. I have a lot to say about our new heroine, but much like the episode, I’ll build up to that.

The pacing in this episode is excellent, it almost feels longer than what it actually is. The suspense builds up throughout the first few scenes as we’re told that the Precures are going to be split, and then separately that Scorp and Bunbee may be condemned to a fate worse than death if they don’t shape up. There’s uncertainty on both sides of the fight, and we soon see the girls ruminating over it in the garden scene. However, after a healthy conversation and considering all the obstacles they’ve overcome so far, they choose not to let it bother them. The team’s unshakeable confidence is enough to reassure Coco, though Syrup is less certain. This is consistent with their differing history with the team. Coco has seen firsthand what the girls are capable of, from overcoming the depths of despair to defeating Despariah by appealing to her humanity, and rescuing the lost citizens of Palmier Kingdom. Meanwhile, Syrup has only more recently gotten involved with the girls’ activities and isn’t aware of everything that they accomplished before he met them when they battled Nightmare, only some of their fights against Eternal, and he’s not sure they can fight back forever. Nonetheless, the callback to the pinnacle moment of the previous season is wonderful and a great reminder of everything the girls have overcome before now, including previous attempts to separate them. They’re stronger than that.

history shows that yes, you will be okay

With the tension being assuaged by the girls’ moment of solidarity, it is quickly reinjected by the following scene, where King Donuts cautions about Flora’s prophecies to the other fairies, and then we are shown Nuts being concerned about everyone, emphasized with some looming clouds. This cues to the audience that it’s not going to be just another battle, so it brings all the fear and concern right back to the forefront, and from there it’s all high stakes. The non-fight with Scorp as he leads the girls away from the school makes it clear that something unusual is afoot, and the next thing we know the fairies are being kidnapped. All of this tension culminates in the intense fight scene in the rain.

However...I found the actual battle to be a bit lacking and underwhelming. Obviously, the writers had to give Eternal the upper hand to allow for the Mysterious Girl to save the day with a badass entrance, that’s just the rules of the genre. Even so, all the Precures made at best one strike each and then fell to the combined force of the villains, when we know from numerous instances of them fighting MOTWs and generals alike that they can tank more than that. Is this the same team that burned the incarnation of despair herself with their power of hope? The same group of girls who defeated the strongest executives of Nightmare? The same Nozomi who befriended her evil clone? (okay that’s technically not canon but I am not letting Dark Dream be forgotten.) Those same legendary heroines, now succumbing to two punches from a mid-level manager? It doesn’t sit well with me. Bunbee’s strategy of using the captive fairies as a shield, knowing the girls wouldn’t want to hit them, was clever. I can understand Mint getting flustered at that moment, but the other Cures I’m less forgiving of.

The wet, slippery ground was a cool idea but the writers/animators didn’t do enough with it for my liking. And not to poke too many holes in Precure villain plots, but if Bunbee had just teleported back to Eternal with the fairies to begin with, they would have had a stronger bargaining chip to get the girls to hand over the Rose Pact. Things do turn around fast when the Mysterious Girl shows up, but even then she also only gets a few good hits in and spends half her screentime lecturing the Cures. Effectively, this is more of a tease of her abilities, her proper debut is in the next episode. I would rather this entire battle, from start to finish, had been a bit more desperate so as to not undersell the main heroines, even when introducing a requisite powerhouse of a new character.

Conversely, from a villain standpoint, Scorp and Bunbee going at it so desperately plays very well. They’ve had an interesting dynamic throughout the show so far, but despite his irritation with Nightmare’s former lackey, Scorp knows both of their jobs are at stake and he explains this to him plainly. After a great comedic overreaction, the next time that we see them when they hatch their plot to kidnap the fairies, they’re all business. You get the sense they’re giving their all for this fight in a way they haven’t before, and that could contribute to the Precures having such a hard time (though they should still be able to do more than they did). The next episode will show that Scorp still has a trump card to play, but he’s trying very hard here to avoid doing so. It’s a refreshing level of intensity for the duo, which in turn makes it incredible when the Mysterious Girl still tosses them around like ragdolls.

One plot point that was a bit unclear to me was Flora’s prophecy about evil attempting to scatter the Red Rose, because that’s not really what happened in this episode. I skimmed summaries through to the mid-season climax and didn’t see anything specific, so it may be more of a general warning that Eternal will try to break them apart, and that they should work with the Mysterious Girl for assistance, as she is the inheritor of the power of the Blue Rose.

Let’s talk some more about the Mysterious Girl. She fights HARD. She single handedly sends Bunbee flying across the field twice in about 4 minutes, and the weight of her blows is tangible. They make sure you know she stands apart from the Cures. She can hold off the recurring general with relative ease after he laid out the entire team, and this isn’t just a case of wanting to show how cool the new character is, although that is part of it. She’s going to remain strong and powerful throughout the show, and even in future crossovers. I dare say she’s unrivaled in Precure canon, inasmuch as power levels mean anything (they don’t). I’d also like to note for the record that the reason I only call Milky Rose the “Mysterious Girl�� in this review is because that’s how she’s credited.

That’s her credit on the bottom: 謎の少女 (Nazo no Shoujo), literally “mysterious girl”, and her actress is anonymous, which immediately suggests that there’s something to hide. Watch this space over the next few episodes. (I mean, yes, I know who she is, and you probably do as well, but for the time being I’m going to limit this to in-universe knowledge.) Related to the mystery of her identity is her connection to the fairies and the Precures. She seems to be familiar with them at least, as she offers a kind, knowing smile when she rescues Coco, Nuts, and Syrup, then turns around and lectures Cure Dream about protecting him. Maybe I’m reading too much into the subtext, but I picked up a hint of implicit “You’re always like this”. For some reason she’s always glaring at the Cures, especially Dream, which conjures to mind another less than ideal relationship Nozomi has. When combined with the preceding episodes, there’s just enough evidence to suggest who the Mysterious Girl is without making it completely obvious, and when you do know, you can identify more key patterns, and her fight against Bunbee becomes much more personal.

Her outfit bears similarities to the Precure uniforms, but is also distinct enough from them to carve her out as a unique entity.

She wears a white two piece dress with magenta trim on the skirt and shoulder straps, as well as some lacing down the front in lieu of the jacket of the team’s uniform. I already mentioned the number of blue roses on her dress, but if you think that’s on the nose, wait until next time. She is not subtle. The separation between the top and skirt forms a V shape that exposes her navel, a la Cure Black and Cure Dream from their first seasons. She shares the color-coded shorts under skirt design sensibility of the main five, also inherited from their predecessors Cure Black and Cure Bloom. She has three-tiered shoulder pads that again are more reminiscent of those worn by the various Futari Wa Cures than the style of the current team. Her arm guards are two pieces, with the portion from her palms to forearms being the same style as the Precures’, but she also has a white sleeve underneath it that extends all the way up to her bicep, and again has magenta trim. Most uniquely, she wears a thin, wire-like tiara that extends to the sides and back of her head, which along with some ribbons splits her hair off into two side sections that augment the main portion. It still all flows downward, but the side sections have a visible divide at their point of origin and give her a unique silhouette, somewhat like a set of ears, before the hair recombines down her back. She also wears pearly teardrop (or perhaps flower petal) shaped earrings, in contrast to the butterfly earrings worn by the main five. As usual, her eye color matches her theme color, in this case magenta eyes that are a shade lighter than the accents on her dress. All put together it’s a striking look and as a big fan of the color purple, I admire the outfit.

In the art and animation department, this episode is fairly good. There’s a few really standout shots, such as the one below, while most of the episode falls into average territory, and there’s a small number of sequences that are really lacking. Unfortunately, the fight in the rain is among these. However, some visual gems make up for it. The entire garden sequence is pure delight. It’s well-lit and places the girls in a welcoming environment, which helps to offset the doom and gloom of the rest of the episode.

This arc shot is a wonderful piece of animation. That’s not easy to do. Famously even The Lion King struggled with a similar shot, so while Precure doesn’t pull it off amazingly, there’s still effort. They change the angles on the characters slightly rather than just doing a lateral tracking shot with a loop, which is something they have been known to do before. Last episode in fact. However, there’s one aspect that stretches the imagination, in this show about middle school girls transforming into superheroes in frilly dresses to fight an evil corporation of monster people. And that aspect is that they are way too far apart from each other in the garden scene to be able to effectively communicate. They’re all facing different directions and are easily several feet (or meters) apart, their conversations would either be lost in the wind, or they’d have to call out loudly enough for everyone around them to know what they’re talking about.

Okay yes this is a stretch but it was funny to me.

Put everything together and you’ve got a tense, moody episode with an upbeat middle section that technically ends positively, but finishes with a hollow ending. This is an effective tool that leaves you wanting more without being an abject cliffhanger. It starts strong and ends well but has a subpar climax, being unable to fully deliver on its own promises. Nonetheless I like it, it’s a dramatic turn from the laid back last few episodes and a transition into the meat of the series. It’s not Precure at its best, but it’s quite solid.

Next time, it’s Scorp’s final stand and the Mysterious Girl’s first true fight. You won’t want to miss it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 kettei!

And now at long last, after 620 days since I started writing about YPC5 on the blog, and 244 days since my first Go Go review, I can finally uncover Milky Rose on my banner! Rejoice!

hopefully I can get to Fresh by 2022

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Yes! Precure 5 Go Go!#YPC5GG10 #PCD208

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kittydemon9000 · 4 years ago

Text

Hrrrrrrrr I know @blursed-ninjago-ideas reverse prompt thing was a while ago, but it took a while to finish mine and I ended up cutting out bits that didn’t work, so here. The prompt was Kai getting akumatized, but HM loosing control so here we go

————————————

Kai didn’t know akumas could be so destructive. None of them did. Or at least, they’d been stopped before they could do any real lasting damage.

“GET DOWN!” Cole shouted, tackling him to the ground. A bright blue laser sailed past where Kai had just been, hitting a car instead.

It crumbled to dust.

From what Kai has gathered, the Akuma was from a young boy who had been bullied for his love of sci-fi, to the point where they’d started beating him up. His Akuma powers were the same as the kid’s favorite character: being able to blast beams of light that disintegrate whatever they touch.

Kai found himself cursing Hawkmoth yet again.

The group had already seen more than ten people get disintegrated, and there were probably many more.

“I have located the targets.” A monotonous voice said behind them. Kai’s blood ran cold.

The group turned around in horror to see true Akuma behind them. He had pale blue skin with a black visor covering the top of his head. He was wearing a deep, black suit with gold accents and a golden cape fluttered behind his. His boots were a similar gold with tiny rockets on the bottom, granting him flight. And his gun…..his gun was pointed right at them.

Before any of them had a chance to react, he fired.

Jay didn’t even have a chance to open his mouth before he crumbled to dust. They barely had a chance to breathe before the Akuma fired two more, at Cole and Zane respectively.

Nya was next, having a second to jump out of the way but the Akuma easily tracked her movements.

“KAI-“ was all Lloyd had time to say before he was gone too.

Kai could barely breathe. Jay, Cole, Zane, Nya, Lloyd…...his family, his siblings…..every single one of them was gone…..turned to dust

He vaguely heard the sound of the Akuma yelling out as Ladybug and Chat Noir chased him away, no doubt to lure him into a trap, or at least away from all the civilians.

The smell of burning surrounded him, he needed to leave, it was so suffocating and he needed to get away.

He was running. Sprinting at full speed, with no destination in mind other than far away from here.

Kai didn’t know how long he ran for. Minutes, maybe hours. All that filled his ears were the echoing sounds of Lloyd’s call and the haunting ringing of his phone.

In his running, Kai tripped on a piece of sidewalk, sending him crashing to the ground.

And that second of pain was enough to bring him back.

His family was gone. Turned to dust before his very eyes. And Kai? Kai was terrified. Kai was angry. Kai was guilty. Kai was filled to the very brim with unwavering, unrelenting grief.

Why did the Akuma decide to shoot him last? Why was it even targeting them? Why wasn’t it going for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous instead? Why did it have it be them?

Pyrovenge.

Kai’s breath hitched before letting out a dark chuckle. That was a new one. How many Akuma forms did he have now? Four? Five?

In return for avenging the deaths of your family, I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.

That did sound nice……...but no.

Why not?

That kid. It wasn’t his fault. He was just another victim.

And what about Ladybug and Chat Noir! If they had kept him distracted, or shown up earlier, your family would be fine!

Heros can’t be everywhere at once. They’re still human. The fact they step up to beat you-

But then something clicked in Kai’s mind.

Targets.

The Akuma had called them targets.

The anger grew.

Wait! Stop-

Hawkmoth had told the Akuma to target, to murder, his family. Probably to get him akumatized.

“I’m coming for you Hawkmoth, and there is nowhere you can run that I won’t find you.”

The purple blobs enveloped him, Hawkmoth yelling in his mind. But it didn’t matter.

Pyrovenge wouldn’t stop until Hawkmoth was dead.

———————

Ladybug bolted across the rooftops, dodging and jumping over the fires, ice spikes and piles of rocks that blocked her path. This new Akuma was tough. They so far hadn’t gotten anywhere close to him, and only through some live video footage did they learn their name was Pyrovenge. But, despite the name, they seemed to be able to do more than just make fire.

They also seemed to hate Hawkmoth, which could be used to her advantage.

“COME OUT YOU COWARD!” A deafening and furious voice echoed, followed by a loud explosion. Up ahead, Ladybug saw what looked like a fire tornado appear for a second before dissipating.

“Pyrovenge!” Ladybug yelled out as she reached the end of the building.

The Akuma was wearing a bodysuit that started at black by the feet but slowly transitioned into red as it went up. He had fingerless black gloves with a molten rock pattern runnin up his arms and stopping at the elbow. On his left shoulder was something that resembled a grey archery chest guard while on the right was a brown and gold shoulder guard that went down the length of his arm. A blue sash was wrapped around his waist with a few colorful buttons pinned on. It looked as though someone had taken clothes and accessories from six different closets and thrown them together. Ladybug’s inner designer cringed. It wasn’t even horrible, all the accessories by themselves would’ve looked great, but together it was just too random and all over the place.

Their skin was a burnt brown color with a black domino mask covering their eyes. The Akuma also wore a sort of head band, but instead of hair there was a roaring fire. His eyes were blazing red and filled with rage.

“What do you want!?!” He yelled, temporarily stopping his war path. The block of street they were on was almost completely destroyed, fires roaring on all sides. But luckily, Ladybug didn’t see any civilians.

“You need to stop. You’ll destroy all of Paris!” Ladybug pleaded.

“So what?” He spat. “You can just cast the cure to fix everything.”

“That doesn’t mean that damage hasn’t been done! Think of the people who might get hurt!”

Think of the people who could die went unsaid.

“That’s what I'm counting on.” Pyrovenge snarled.

“Well, we’d be pretty lousy heros if we let you.” Chat Noir quipped as he landed. He winked at Ladybug. “So it took so long, Milady. I got a little held up.”

Pyrovenge growled. “I won’t let you, or anyone, get in the way of my revenge. Hawkmoth killed my family. I won’t let that deed go unpunished.”

The sash around his waist started glowing a cyan blue and suddenly the flames atop his head went out, replaced by a slowly growing mass of water. The harsh reds of this clothes were replaced with a vibrant cyan blue.

He held his hands out and lifted them, and suddenly water erupted from the nearby fire hydrants and shot toward the heros.

The pair jumped out of the way, but the water curved around and shot toward them again. The heros just barely jumped out of the way again, dodging for a few more seconds before Pyrovenge let out an angry growl.

The floating water suddenly dropped to the ground with a splash, spraying outwards.

“Lucky Charm!” Ladybug cried out. From the magical ladybugs, a piece of paper began to fall. Before it could be snatched away, she jumped up and grabbed it.

“I don’t have time to deal with you!” He shouted.

Then, the buttons started glowing a darker blue and electric sparks exploded from his head. The cyan of his outfit was replaced by a dark blue, similar to the color of the electricity.

With speed like lightning, he darted away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Chat Noir said, sprinting after him, but he was quickly yanked back by Ladybug grabbing his tail.

“Meowch, Milady. What was that for?”

But Ladybug was looking with a slightly horrified expression at the Lucky Charm. For once, it wasn’t just bright red with block spots. There was a window of color.

“What is it?” Chat walked over and peered over her shoulder, but felt his breath stutter.

Chat recognized it, or rather, Adrien recognized it. It had been taken mere days before at the park.

In it was Lloyd, Zane, Jay, Cole, Nya and Kai. Only everyone but Kai’s eyes were scratched out.

“He doesn’t know the Cure brings people back.” Ladybug whispered.

“He doesn’t know the Cure brings people back!” She said again, this time much louder.

“Well, at least we know how to get him to calm down.” Chat commented.

————————

Pyrovenge let out a small snarl. Hawkmoth was back to trying to get him under his thumb.

“You’re just delaying the inevitable.” He said aloud. “If you just come out, it’ll be over quick.”

That was a lie and they both knew it. Pyrovenge would do anything to make sure his death was as slow and painful as possible.

“Pyrovenge!”

He let out an angry sigh.

“For the last time, I don’t want to deal with you!” he yelled. He glowed red and the fires atop his head grew.

“We just want to show you something.” The bug said.

“Nothing you say or do will make me stop. Hawkmoth. Needs. To. DIE.”

“Maybe nothing they say will.”

Pyrovenge stopped. No. No it was impossible. They were….they were dead.

“But maybe we can.”

But they weren’t. Standing before him were his family, each of them without a scratch or bruise. Looking just like they had before they were….

“Kai, please. Stop this. You don’t need to get revenge. We’re all okay.” Lloyd said.

“.....Lloyd?” Kai Pyrovenge whispered. The gloves started glowing and the earth keeping him high above the ground slowly started retreating back into the ground. Once he touched the ground, their glow faded and the reds and fire was back.

“Is it really you?” He whispered, his eyes pleading, desperately hoping it was true.

“Yes! Now please Kai, stop all this!” Lloyd pleaded. Pyrovenge took a few steps to him, hesitant and afraid.

With every step he took, the ninja grew tense. They trusted Kai to never hurt them. He’d probably die before he allowed that to happen….. But he wasn’t exactly Kai right now.

Once he was within a foot of Lloyd, he stopped. The flames shrunk until they were barely embers and he placed a hesitant hand on Lloyd's shoulder. His eyes widened at the contact, almost like he was expecting Lloyd to disappear under his touch.

He suddenly pulled Lloyd into a tight hug, tears escaping from his eyes.

“It really is you.”

#time for some kai hurt #kai #kai smith #lloyd #lloyd garmadon #miraculous au #ladybug #chat noir #ninjago #miraculous

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