#enstars fanfiction

[whats-it-mean]

Hey, sorry for not putting that important detail! Can it be a normal request please?

Can I have a few hcs for Tsukasa with a long distance s/o, like Europe distance away?

I hope that that's alright with you.

Have a nice day or night!

Distanced Romantics ☆

A/N - not really headcannons bc i am not at all confident in my ability to write headcannons, so im sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy!! this was very cute to write <3

C/W - None !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You loved Tsukasa. Really, it was hard not to, the way his cheeks went red at every compliment, the way he tried his very best to please you, the way he was the best gentleman he could be for you. He was adorable in every sense of the word, from his hair to his eyes, even to the way he carried himself with so much class. It was all so, so endearing.

And words couldn’t describe how hopelessly in love with you he was. 

Everything about you was perfect to him- you were his best prize, his most precious jewel, and this knight would do anything and everything in his power to keep it that way.

Your phone buzzed, and you found yourself grinning at the illuminated screen as it displayed Tsukasa’s contact name under your notifications. You brought the phone up next to your face, and smiled at the sound of his voice greeting you.

“Darling! How are you?” You could feel his excitement through the screen, and giggled at the pet name he’d always address you with.

“I’m good- How’s everything on your end? I hope that it hasn’t been too busy over at Yumenosaki…”

“All is good, don’t worry! The king has been a bit if a handful, as always, but we’ve been managing- but, that’s beside the point. I called you for something else.”

“What is it?” You tilted your head, playing with the strands of your hoodie as you waited.

“I managed to get my hands on some tickets to see you for the holidays.” He sounded so proud as he said that, and even without seeing it you could imagine his grin. “Sena’s going to be in your area for a modeling job, and Narukami insisted I go with to see you. The trips in about a week- Does that sound okay to you?”

You smiled, eyes sparkling as you nodded fervently despite him not being able to see you. “That’s great, Tsukasa! It’s been forever since I’ve been able to hug you…”

Butterflies started in Tsukasa’s chest as he heard your excitement, but he tried his best to ignore it, and you could hear the faint call from his side of the call urging him to return to practice.

“I’ve got to get back to practice, but I’ll text you after, okay, darling?”

“Of course- tell your unit-mates I said thank you?”

Tsukasa let out a hum of approval. “Right. I’ll see you soon, darling!”

You giggled to yourself as he hung up, smiling and kicking your feet at the prospect of a holiday visit from Tsukasa like some sort of schoolgirl. It wasn’t long until you were up and about, already making preparations for him to be able to stay a few nights with you and scribbling out a shopping list of his favorite sweets, smiling to yourself as you did so.

“This’ll be a good holiday season~”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── End.

[maoisarap]

PAINTBRUSHES AND ESCAPES;

Mao Isara centric oneshot

WARNINGS: blood, death, thin-hinted obsession, implied kidnapping...?, insane!tatsumi

PAIRS: tatsumao

WRITTEN: 29/10/24

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

I'm proud of this one... please somebody let me know what they think-

The noise of something banging loudly causes Mao to awaken with major fright. He jolts into a sitting position, tired eyes already wide and blinking the blurriness away from his eyesight as he looks around.

He finds himself in what could be deemed as a prison cell. Everything was grey and cold, barren of life. The walls, ceiling, and floor were made of the same grey cement. The bed he found himself sitting on had a rusty frame - once all black and now turning a horrible brown from the rust. The mattress wasn't soft. It reminded him of rocks. Uncomfortable and jagged with the springs begging to pop out of the thin fabric shell.

Besides all that, the only other thing Mao could see was a door on the other side of the room. A dark grey metal with a black screen for a window. Clearly, it was the type that was one-way. He can't see out, but whoever was on the other side could see in. In front of the door, Mao notices, was a tray with a plate and a plastic bottle of water. He slides off the bed and tiptoes towards the tray, kneeling down. The food was a simple fill of curry. Rice, meat, and vegetables with a thin slice of bread to dip into the curries remains if he ever left any.

The fork besides the plate on the right side of the tray was a white and plastic flimsy type - the types that come with takeaway foods when ordering for a delivery. Mao picks the fork up, using it to shuffle the mix of food around for anything suspicious. Who knows what could be in it...

"You should eat."

He yelps as a voice comes from in front of him. The fork drops from his hold as Mao jolts back, hands hitting palm flat behind him as he lands on his backside. Pain shoots through his whole body as he silently hisses. With looking up, Mao is met with someone around his age, their clothes tattered and bloodied, a mask adorned their face that had sharp cutout carvings for eyes, and a mouth made of stitches. The person before Mao stood tall and strong like a pillar.

"Who are you?!" The words slip from his mouth, anxiety racing through his core as his voice shook with fear.

Yet the person before him ignores his question, only to kneel down in front of Mao to pick up the fork he dropped in his fright. The person brings out a black hankerchief from his jacket pocket, wiping the dust off the fork and placing it onto the plate. The person focused on the food for a moment longer and tilted their head up towards Mao.

Shining purple eyes filtered through the inkling darkness of the holes of the creepy mask.

"You should eat." The person repeats themselves. "We can't go wasting resources now." They stand back up and walk back to the door.

"What do you mean by that?" Mao questions as he staggers into a standing position once more. Rubbing one hand into the palm of the other to ease the pain that shocked through him still.

Yet, just as before, the masked person doesn't answer. "Hey! Answer me! Why am I here?!" The person only shuts the door in front of Mao before he could make an attempt at escaping. "YOU CAN'T KEEP ME IN HERE FOREVER! HEY!" Mao bangs his right hand against the metal door. The ringing sound echoes through his ears like churchbells of the night.

After a few attempts of shouting and banging, he gives up. Hand slides down back to his side as Mao leans his forehead against the cold body of the door. A noise of frustration leaves between the small gap of his lips. "Damn it."

...

The next few days were just the same. He'd wake up on the same bed, find some food and a drink of water in front of the door, and shout for the mysterious person to answer his questions. Every so often, Mao would call out for help, but each try he attempted all ended in the same result. Nothing happens.

During the stay of being in the cell, during the moments Mao was quiet, he could hear faint noises coming from somewhere. The sounds of footsteps. Something being wheeled to some place else, and then... the sound of a saw cutting through something. Mao had ideas on what the noises could be, but to keep himself from throwing up every hour, he holds the thoughts locked at bay in hopes that he was wrong... even if the percentage of him being so was very little.

Mao once more limps towards the door, ignoring the tray that had a plate of food in an amount less than the days before. He wasn't going to eat anything that the masked person tries to give him, no matter how appetising the food looked or smelt. He ignores the rumbling pleas of his stomach and once more reaches a hand - shaking and cold - towards the door. As he ever so lightly touches the metal body of it, a gasp of surprise leaves from him as the door pushes lightly from his touch.

Gentle streams of yellow light fall through the gap. Did the masked person leave it open? Accidentally or on purpose? Mao wasn't sure, and he definitely wasn't going to stay to assume as he pushes more strength into himself to the push the door more forward with a heave large enough for him to shuffle past the doorframe.

Mao looks around himself. He found that he was in a hallway of sorts with dark blue painted walls. The floor beneath his bare footing turns from cold cement to a soft dark grey carpet, the small fluffy tendrils of the wool seeking comfort beneath his skin, warm and cosy. Inviting, even. Mao glances upwards, seeing that the light that held his curiosity in its hold was coming from a bare doorway at the end. He follows towards the brightness, each step light and soft, quiet and gentle.

The light at the end turns into a large room. Larger than the cell he found himself to be in.

Walls aligned with art. Paintings, sculptures, soft fabrics. Everything he saw dotted the walls.

The smell of death stenched through, causing Mao to gag and mask his mouth with a hand of his, plugging his nose as he only breathed out through his mouth.

The sculptures, Mao looks more closely, were all made from human body parts. A head sitting on a pedestal, the skin reached past the plate it was sitting on, a crown made of fingers and tongues lied atop of the head, eyes missing from its circuits and a smile made of stitches forever adorned its face.

He wanted to throw up. His stomach churned, regret of listening to his curiosity's teases sat heavily in his heart.

"Do you like it?"

The familiar voice of the masked person appears in front of him. Walking past a blue plastic-material-like curtain, something making a black silhouette stood behind it. Although, the person before him wasn't wearing his usual mask. The mentioned item was nowhere to be seen. Instead, stood what Mao saw was a pretty man around his age. The familiar sharp purple eyes hold a look of softness, a smile creasing his features with light mint green hair framing his face.

What Mao saw was a deity of beauty...

...But disguised underneath was the devil with sharp teeth and claws ready to feast upon the weak, such as people like Mao himself.

"Humans are the defined masterpieces of artistry. With all their uniqueness to beauty. By looks, personality..." The purple eyed male mutters, trailing off.

"You're a monster -" Mao let's the words slip past. A flinch flickers through his figure as he sees the other male before him sharpen his focus once more.

"Maybe that's how you see as I am, but how I see myself is an artist. An artist who learns to appreciate the fascination of humankind. Don't you ever think how beautiful we all are? We're all so different and yet the same. We're like paintbrushes. We all have a different purpose to strive for, but our ending still falls through the exact same, no matter the routes we take. Humans are the brushes painting the routes of life onto a canvas that is the world."

...

He doesn't remember what happened after the find of the masked man... the other man, but Mao felt frustrated and in defeat after realising he was in the cell once more.

This time, the door of the cell was left wide open, and there was no tray of food or drink on the floor teasing him to eat.

He felt cold.

He was really cold and hungry too.

The calls of his stomach begging him to eat something, anything, was louder than before. He clutches his arms around his stomach as he rolled to the side of the bed he sat at, groaning in immense pain. He felt as though the insides of his stomach had been lit on fire. Maybe he should have taken the risks when the guy offered him food... despite the risks, he knew what they could have contained. Was it ever better to risk than see himself crumble? He wasn't sure anymore.

Instant regret bloomed at the front of his mind.

Mao leans up from the bed once more, noticing the wide open door. The pretty-faced guy was begging Mao to leave his cell at this rate... and Mao took it. He staggered past the door, into the same hallway that led to the same room. He holds his breath, ignoring the horrible and rotting stenches flooding throughout the whole area, and tries his best to ignore the grotesque scenery. Although, on a table in the middle of the room sat a nude body of a figure he didn't recognise. The face had been skinned off, leaving remnants of red meat behind and for the eyes and teeth to be on full show.

He ducks his head away from looking at the table any further.

Ahead of Mao, though, where the blue curtain from before sat has now been unravelled, sat another doorway, once more wide open with a stream of light flooding through beckoning Mao to guide himself to its path of obsessive territory.

On the other side of the doorway was a set of stairs leading upwards. Made of dark coloured wood, tilting and close to collapsing off the nails. Gaps lie in between each step, showing an abyss of the area.

So Mao was in a basement, he figured. Of course he was...

He shuffles himself towards the stairway, reaching up one step slowly. Then another, and another and another until on the seventh step - halfway up to the top - a loud creak groans beneath his weight. He stands frozen still, heart raced with anxiety as the noises emit. He waits for something to happen. Perhaps for the stairs to fall under his weight, or for the man to burst out from anywhere and give him another scolding for trying to escape.

Yet, nothing did. The world was on his side, with a handful of hope and wonders. After a minute, Mao carries on walking up the stairs until he comes face to face with something in front of him made of wood. It wasn't a wall, but it wasn't a door. A slither of light comes from the right of it. He reaches towards it and digs his fingers into the gap. Mao then heaves with a pull. At first, the wooden related item in front of him doesn't move, but then he tries for a second and third try. Each try, he gives more strength to move the item out of his way until there is a big enough gap for him to slide past it.

Mao covers his eyes for a moment. Blinking and groaning at how bright everything was all around himself.

The walls were bright wooden panels, the lights were small chandeliers with fake candles, and the flames "flickered" every second. The whole area that Mao finds himself standing in was all open planned. The part he was in seemed to be a living room area of sorts. With a fireplace off to the left and mirror in a golden frame hanging above it, a rug with a fluffy polka dot print sat in the middle of the room with a singular settee facing towards the fireplace. Mao looked behind himself, seeing that what he pushed past was a bookshelf of sorts. Various books, all under the same few genres, lie in each shelf. About religion. Art. History and the nature of human bodies.

Off to the far right was a kitchen. There was nothing out of place with it, just some counters with a fridge and a small oven. A small set of chairs and a square table sat off to the side of it with another small plain red rug underneath.

On the settee, Mao sees the man from before. His figure still, with one arm leaning against the armrest, head leaning against his hand as a few snores emitted from him, which Mao was thankful for as right ahead from where Mao stood... was the front door. His last chance of leaving. He can just see that the door, for whatever reason, was open just a slither. Thin whisps of wind hollows through into the warmth of the house.

If he didn't know he was in the home of a murderer, he would have found this place to feel welcoming and warm. Yet, he knew that every grain that had been touched in this place was a disguise of deception and death.

Mao starts walking quietly, tiptoeing past the man who was asleep. It looked as though the greenette had fallen asleep in the middle of reading a book about the human anatomy. Mao holds his breath with each step he took. Kelly green eyes switch from looking towards the door and then towards the male until, at last, he stands by the edge of it. His right hand creeps towards the small gap that was open, fingertips bitten with the cold air that called out his name, and with his other hand, Mao uses it to push the rest of the doors body open wide enough for him to slip through.

The air was freezing outside. Causing Mao to shiver majorly. Snow crunched beneath his footsteps as the wind howled louder. Mao looks left and right, seeing that he was in the middle of nowhere. The only thing to be seen was an empty street with trees dotting the other edges of it. All leaves have fallen, disintegrated to nothingness. Everywhere he looked, snow had taken its life.

He takes another step forward, and a scream leaves from deep within his vocal cords. Eyes close shut, and his teeth gritting together in pain. A loud clang rings all around Mao.

A heavy breath leaves him as after a second, he opens one of his eyes and looks down. A bear trap... he's stood in a bear trap with the jagged sharp-edge-like teeth clamping to his leg. Fear rose within him once more, tears dared to fall warmly against his cheeks. Blood profusely spilt from his leg.

"Did you really think you were able to wander far?" That voice, it made Mao's breath hitch as he glanced his eyes up. The male felt taller than he already was compared to Mao. His smile looks like the face of the devil.

"I've prepared everything to make sure you won't leave. You're the tool to my next art piece." The man spills ever so smoothly as he kneeled down in front of Mao and works his way with taking the bear trap off of Mao. Immediately, Mao could feel himself going limp into the others' hold. The pain in his leg shot up twice over, again and again. "I can't have you going anywhere..."

The man chuckled as Mao could feel his head being tilted up - not with a hand, but rather what felt like a knife. "Maybe I should start my next piece early. What shall I turn you into? Perhaps..."

...

"My doll." The male scraped his feet against the floorboards. The sound echoed throughout the house. In his hands were flowers, all varying of different colours and types as he walked towards a corner of his bedroom where a figure sits in a chair, always sitting up straight, his smile made of stitches was soft, eyes replaced with glass, and bones replaced with fluffy stuffing.

The man... Tatsumi Kazehaya, as he calls himself, kneels before the figure. "My lovely cherry." He brings the flowers he held and places them gently into the hands of the figure on the chair. Tatsumi then stands up from his position and walks towards the table beside his bed and opens the top drawer. He reaches in for a lighter, playing with it for a moment to see if there was any fuel left to spark any fires, and once he saw small flames pick to life, he smiles and wanders back over to the same corner.

Once again, he kneels down onto the floor and leans all around the chair every few seconds to light up some pink and red candles with the lighter. He turns the lighter off, laying it on the floor beside him, and smiles up towards the sitting figure.

"Happy three years, Mao, my love."

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

NEW WONDERLAND DREAM DANCE CHAPTER

BAG OF LASAGNA

(okay thats probably a very silly tag for a chapter that i found legitimately touching and sweet, Rei was such a good guy here, best big brother) Sorry for the long Haitus on this one I didint realize a new chapter was wanted but ill try to keep it updated now that I know you guys still like it :') sorry for doubting it for so long! (well that and the people I knew who liked it most had acess to the early acess chapters so they wouldnt really be getting much new content with the updates-)

[mishkakagehishka]

Growing Up, part 3: Celebrated

Directory

Fandom: Ensemble Stars!! Concept: an exploration of Mika's past and his growing inner psychology as presented through the celebrations of his 15th, 16th and 18th birthday (or, during his final year before Yumenosaki, first year in Yumenosaki/pre-War era, and 3rd year in Yumenosaki/!!time as calculated by the person who almost failed maths in years 11 and 12) Word count for this chapter: 2703 Summary for this chapter: A surprise birthday party thrown in Mika's honour, to show him how far he has come, how many good friends he has made, how he's not as unworthy of love as he had thought.

Warnings for this chapter: None that I can think of :> This is the fluffy conclusion to the two angsty chapters, anyway.

A mug of cocoa warmed Mika's hands as he sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, watching some comedy on the television. It was more like he kept it as background noise while he stared right through the screen itself, thinking of everything except what he was pretending to watch. It was Christmas. He had nothing better to do with himself, his roommate became active the moment the sun set, and was off wandering somewhere. Shu called him a week earlier saying he won't be in Japan for Christmas because he had further work to do for college. Asides from saddening Mika, as Shu, then, wouldn't come for his birthday either, it also made him worry about his own future. Whether he should also pursue higher education, where he should do so, what he should pursue… But it was hardly the time to worry about that. No use worrying over the future, besides, there’s not much he can do about it as is.

As he was right at that moment, he felt bored. Restless. The comedy went on forever, and it wasn't even funny, and his cocoa was becoming just slightly uncomfortably lukewarm. He wanted to call Shu, but Shu made it very clear he would be very busy, and so it just felt like a bad idea. Like he would only bother him. He could go out himself, take a walk, see the illuminations, but it was Mika. A single man walking around all alone on Christmas… He felt like he'd attract looks. Bad looks. Pitying looks.

It's not that he minded being single (and even if he did, he could do nothing about it as an idol), but the idea of being judged by random people on the street, those to whom he could never justify his existence, made him itch. Truly, he hated the idea of being judged, and yet he could only ever imagine one would look at him only for that reason. To enact judgement. For a reason, judgement can be used to mean divine punishment. A disaster, a calamity. That's how it felt to him, to be looked at. As if he was being asked for the reason why he looked like that, why he was occupying that space, why he was even born in the first place. Questions he couldn't answer. So, he would prefer it if nobody looked at him, ever. It was a mystery how he managed to perform, but he found himself able to forget how having more than one person looking at him, heavens forbid closely, feels as if he is being held down and dissected as a living specimen when he’s performing. He supposed being dressed in clothes he is not worthy of, being given songs written to be sung by those far more elegant and refined than him helped. He felt as if he put on a mask on stage, as if it wasn’t him up there, but a version of him that deserved all that praise and love. All that glory. A version of him that doesn’t feel like crying and throwing up at the mere idea of being observed by strangers.

And so Mika felt like he couldn't go out, for fear of being judged. That's simply how he felt, and it was his plan to stay in and continue pretending to watch bad comedies while drinking lukewarm cocoa, but his roommate had other plans.

Ritsu barged in, arm in arm with Arashi, loudly enough that it made Mika jump. It was a matter of luck that the cocoa didn't spill all over him.

"Mikarin!" Ritsu called out. And Arashi continued, "Get dressed, we're going out!" "Eh? N'gah? Wha?" Mika, still surprised, could only stare like a lamb. "Goin' out? Wh-where?" "The Christmas market, silly! Today's the last day it's open." Arashi let go of Ritsu's hand, instead striding over to Mika. She took the mug out of his hands (which he relinquished without a struggle, eyes just as lost) and proceeded to pull him up to his feet. "And don't even try to tell me you weren't dying to go see the lights!" "Ah, how'd'ya know? I was just thinkin' 'bout that…" "Because we're your best friends, duh?" Ritsu cut in, throwing himself on Mika's bed once Arashi dragged Mika himself over there, too. "So, you'll go with us?" "Feels like I ain't got much choice," Mika mumbled, though a big smile made his joy at the invitation come across despite the hesitant words. Arashi was already pulling his clothes out of the closet, pushing hangers against his chest to see what looked best. And he laughed along with the two of them, agreeing fairly quickly to go along with their whims.

And they had fun, truly, they did. Mika was happy he took them up on that offer, even if he felt reservations at first. Worrying about what people would think, would they judge him, would they think he was third wheeling a date, would they think he was pathetic… All of those worries simply faded away when he saw the beautiful illuminations. When the natural conversations with his best friend kept leading into spontaneous fits of laughter. When he was able to feel, for just a second, loved and appreciated. Like his presence was wanted. When he felt the warmth of a true connection. Eating street food, talking and laughing, looking at the illuminations and spending quality time together. He was happy he decided to come with them.

The night came to a close soon, however. With midnight approaching, Arashi was the first to broach the subject of turning in for the night. "It's late," she pointed at her watch, which showed about ten minutes past eleven. Exchanging a look Mika found odd with her, Ritsu nodded in agreement. "We can continue our hangout at the dorm's common room, if you guys aren't tired yet?" "Aw, I dunno…" Mika trailed off. He wondered what the shared look was about. The insecure part of him flared up, bombarding him with various thoughts to the tune of they're sick of me, but he tried his best to suppress it. He had no reason to believe that, he told himself. He didn't want to fall back into old habits. "Come on, ple~ase?" Arashi folded her hands together in a begging gesture, pouting her lip cutely at him. "You wouldn't say no to us, would you, Mikarin?" Ritsu did the same, giving him his best puppy eyes. "N'gah… Awright, jus' fer a lil bit, though, okay?"

Sometimes Mika felt like a bit of a pushover. And the bitter taste it left at the base of his throat was unpleasant, but he couldn’t help it.

The lights were off, if they could assume from just the front windows. It seemed awfully quiet. Mika was almost certain somebody would be awake and moving about the common area, and yet, far as he could tell, the whole dorm was dead asleep. Only Ritsu, Arashi, and him - returning from an evening's outing, sneaking in like burglars. Arashi fiddled with her keys for a moment, the many keychains weighing down on her hand, but she pushed the door open - to more darkness.

Ritsu held his arm out to Mika, who took hold of it eagerly, not wanting to trip over something and fall. Together, the three of them walked into the darkness, quiet as mice. While Arashi fiddled with the wall trying to find a light switch, Mika felt goosebumps rising on his skin. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched. He squeezed Ritsu's arm, ignoring the horror addict in him filling his thoughts with monsters and killers that crept in the darkness, waiting to pounce and tear their unsuspecting victims apart.

The light was turned on, and…

"Surprise!!" The clock had hit midnight. A symphony of voices. "Happy birthday, Mika!"

It was as if half of ES had gathered in the common area. A cake placed on the dining room table, banners and balloons decorating every corner, smiles filled the room. Smiles directed at Mika. A part of him wanted to shrink into himself and disappear, uncomfortable with being the centre of attention. But another part of him almost enjoyed the way they were smiling at him. It made his heart skip a beat. Everyone here, here to celebrate his birth, to act as if he was important. Everyone, everyone, even…

"Oshi-san?!" "Happy birthday, Kagehira!" Shu had a used party popper in hand. Though never smiling, Mika could tell he was happy to see him. As was Mika. "I thought y'were too busy. Weren'cha gonna stay in Paris?" "You know I always aim to be ahead of schedule. Indeed, this time it worked in both our favours. I finished my work days ago, so I decided to fly in earlier. Aren't you happy to see me?" He was smug as always, but the airs he put up did little to cover the new bags under his eyes. Imperfections. Yet, if he was tired, he did little to show it. "I sure am!" Mika was quick to agree, smiling ear to ear.

"I'm… so happy I could cry," he was now addressing the entire party, "Y'all did all this fer me?" "But of course! Your birthday only comes once a year, you know?" Arashi gently ruffled his hair (and was scolded by Shu for it, but it took only a single look from her to get him to acquiesce). "It just felt appropriate that we celebrate you on your birthday," Hajime added, before pointing to the tea he had prepared just a little earlier, offering Mika a cup to warm up.

And Mika felt like he could cry, really. To be celebrated on his birthday, to be treated so kindly and lovingly. He found it hard to believe that he wasn't just dreaming. That it was real. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper birthday celebration. In his youth, he never had the time nor money to celebrate his late-December birthday. Later on, he never felt important enough that his birth should be celebrated. (And if even his parents decided to throw him away, what point was there in celebrating the day that never brought anyone joy?) And now, suddenly, he was standing in the common area, talking with people who seemed happy to talk to him. Being offered sweets and drinks. Asked to open presents, even. When was the last time he'd gotten a birthday present? That DVD, that motivator to enrol in Yumenosaki. The butterfly whose wings' flapping caused this very party to happen.

And even the party itself was something he was given a choice to reject, to discard. When Arashi pulled him away from the crowd to check up on him, which he needed, he would admit, he was given both a choice and an excuse. "Are you doing okay, hun? I know you're bad with having the spotlight on you…" "N'ah, yeah, 's fine, Naru-chan. It's a bit scary, but I'm doin' peachy fer now." "I'm glad to hear! You just let me know if you want to step outside, okay?" "I will. Thank ya kindly!" There was not a single part of this event that wasn’t planned for him, with him and his wishes and comfort in mind.

It was a fun night. In the end, Mika did have to step outside with Arashi once or twice. After all, he was still himself, still shy and panicky when put under a spotlight. But he never gave up, he always returned to it. He wanted to feel the friendships he had made. And the fact that he was able to talk and laugh and eat with so many people he can now call his friends truly made him happy. Most folks retired around one in the morning - understandably tired and wanting to get some rest. Shu himself left shortly after, at half past one. He fixed Mika's collar and gave him a bit of a speech before he'd left. "I expect to see you grow even more as an artist in this coming year," he monologued, "and remember you were given this life, these talents, for a reason. Do not squander them for laziness or practicality. Nurture them. Develop them. Show the world what you are capable of. Make everyone who ever doubted you regret it." It went on for some time, but Mika swallowed every word of it. Mika knew Shu wanted him to succeed almost as much as he himself wanted it. Even though he now knew his methods in the past were less than ideal, he still kept the view that Shu just wanted what was best for him.

The only difference was, now it was left up to Mika to decide, freely and for himself, whether he wanted to accept Shu’s advice or not.

It was perhaps around 3am when the last of the idols left, the party people, the night owls. Ritsu and Arashi stayed the latest, though Arashi ended up falling asleep on the couch, leaned against Ritsu's shoulder. Ritsu himself was getting drowsier the closer sunrise was approaching, and they knew it was about time to say goodnight and until tomorrow.

Mika gently nudged Arashi awake. It took her a few moments, but she immediately got to groaning. "Oh, my! What time is it?" "It'll be four any minute now," Ritsu answered, yawning and stretching. "Sorry, boys, I fell asleep…" "Ya sure did. But ya didn't miss much. We woke ya up 'cause we're 'bout to head back, too. Didn't want'cha to get a cold from sleepin' here." "Aren't you two such gentlemen? Thank you!" She yawned. "I think it was good. Mika-chan, did you have fun?" "I had a lotta fun!" Mika beamed. There was something pure in his smile, a show of his true feelings. He had so much fun it almost makes him sad that the night is over. "That's what's most important," Ritsu nodded solemnly. "Since it was your party and all." "Ya both planned it, didn'cha? Thank ya kindly, really. Y'all made me so happy, I can't even describe it."

It didn't take long for a hug fest to start. Arashi pulled Mika into a hug the moment those words left his mouth, awwing and cooing all the while. Naturally, Ritsu was pulled in as well. And so, Mika cradled in Arashi's arms, her arms around his back and his face in her neck. Ritsu hugging Mika from the back, his arms wrapped around Arashi's back. And they all swayed ever so lightly like that, simply enjoying the skinship, the physical touch, the show of friendship. "We should go to bed," Arashi whispered, but made no move to separate. "We should," Ritsu agreed. "We really should," as did Mika.

The hour passed well into four by the time they were all tucked into their respective beds. And it was well past five by the time Mika's heart calmed down enough to allow him rest, his mind swimming in that day's memories. In how loved he felt. In how wonderful the feeling was, in how he never wanted to feel lonely and rejected again. Not now when he knew how the other side felt. He was never going to return to being the discarded, thrown away, helpless little child. He wasn’t alone anymore.

But he had to grow up. He had to become stronger. He had to be the one who would accept and love the next unloved children. He was going to become the saviour he wished for so strongly, so desperately as a child. Mika was going to grow up and make the world right, at least for those innocent kiddos who deserved it the most. Because he could show them best that there’s more to life than the rejection and isolation that would come to be the only thing they’d know for a long, long while.

Because even though he, too, was once thrown away without a care, he found his way to a warm home, to loving friends, to a family of his own choice. If he could make it, he could show them, anyone can. Everyone can.

[manias-wordcount]

Hi. Can you write a story where Hokuto Hidaka is wrestling against two muscular mob characters. The duo mob characters is having a grudge against him. The duo use the Full Nelson hold a lot on him. Also, this take place at a secluded place at a water theme park so, Hidaka is wearing his Direct Splash outfit.

Fight Scene (Hokuto Hidaka)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘇𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗶 𝘂𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲. 𝗶𝗺 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗺 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲. 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Sweat drips down his brow as he finally gets a chance to step back and breathe. 

His chest heaves up and down and up and down as he takes greedy gulps of air with a mind that half wonders if this will be his last. The thought is dramatic- that much he knows. But when his eyes shift around, looking and examining everything before him, he can’t help but feel like it’s appropriate in this context. It seems like everywhere he looks, there is no chance of an escape. It seems like everywhere he looks, the path to freedom starts to get cloudier and cloudier. And worst of all?

He doesn’t know how he got here in the first place.

One minute, he’s out with his friends. Enjoying the start of a shorter than short summer break during idol sessions and trying to beat the heat of the current heatwave sweeping all across Japan. Somehow it started with Subaru convincing Mao to pick up a water gun and to have a battle in the corners of the park. It didn’t take long for Makoto to be wrapped up in the battle too- despite his overall reluctance to take the foul shots of water to the face, Subaru seemed to be a little too good at. And him? He was more than content with just watching his members run around with childlike happiness adorning their faces. He said nothing- except for the occasional joke at one of his members' expenses. And a few remarks of concern too. 

But for the most part, he stood there watching.  A small smile plastered on his face as he took in such an encouraging sight. Maloto, Subaru, and Mao all ducking and weaving behind pushes and benches- armed with their water guns. Looks of concentration fill their eyes as their smiles reach wider and wider. For a moment, it’s like they could all pretend that they’re not idols. That they’re just a normal group of friends, doing normal friends things. But they’re not. And that’s okay.

 He and his friends came so far. He and his friends work so hard. As their leader, he knows that there’s still work to be done. Stairs to climb, goals to reach. But for now, he’s more than happy with just sitting on the sidelines. Hearing the carefree laughter of his friends. Enjoying the weather. Appreciating the moment. Living his life in peace. 

That was- until Makoto managed to spray Hokuto right dead in the face when he missed a shot and an all too tricky Mao who was quick to move out of the way. For a second, the laughter stopped and suddenly Subura is snickering over Makoto’s heartfelt apologies. Even Mao couldn’t keep his contained for too long before he’s also laughing at Makoto’s new predicament. But the second Hokuto opens his eyes and lays his hand on the one, last spare water gun the four of them brought- all hell breaks loose.

Suddenly, he’s trusted into the battle. All the running around and the laughter that Hokuto saw from the sidelines was suddenly his reality. Bumping into his friends just to try to land the first shot. Doing his best to refill his gun in all the nearby fountains and pools without getting hit. Even the occasional team-up with someone here and there. 

This time, it was being chased by Subaru- a formidable opponent. His temporary ally, Makoto had already fallen and shouted for Hokuto to go on without him. All while Mao couldn’t help but laugh at the dramatics once more. But for him? His only focus was beating his friend at his own game. Besting the best of the best. And so he took another turn as he ran faster- still through one of the quiet areas of the park. But the voices around him faded away as he focused on running and running and running. And for a second, he decided to take a look. Taking that chance to sure that Subaru’s footsteps were no longer behind him was a risky one. But he was able to let out a sigh of relief when he turned to look over his shoulder and saw nothing there.

Though when he turned back, he was met with a fist flying towards his face- aiming right for his nose.

By some sheer amount of luck, Hokuto was able to see it in time. He stumbles, but he managed to jump back and to the side, avoiding the fist entirely. Unfortunately for him, wasn’t the best place to land. In an instant, his back connects with something hard and solid and completely human. Before he can even blink, arms are coming up by his sides and someone is grabbing him. It’s an odd hold. Arms come up to wrap around him by coming up and circling his shoulders before lacing their hands together behind his neck, forcing his head down hard. Immediately, Hokuto his vision blurs from moving around so fast. He feels restricted and the strain on his body grows and grows as the panic truly starts to set in.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots a figure moving toward him. The person behind him shifts and suddenly’s being lifted up while in the same hold to face the stranger who just tried to punch him. For a second, Hokuto flails. He doesn’t know what to do in a fight. He’s not a fighter. Not like this. Never like this. But in his panicked struggle, he managed to land a firm kick on one of the legs of the guy behind him. A grunt sounds. And while it’s more in surprise than it is in pain, Hokuto is more than happy to pull out of the guy’s grip and scramble away- missing the other guy’s fist by a hair.

He breaks out into a sprint but there’s nowhere for him to go but into a corner. It’s further away from the two others, but just barely. A couple of long strides and he’s back in grabbing distance. And with no one around to hear or see his struggle- Hokuto feels more cornered now than ever. So that leads him to here. Wide blue eyes trying to look at the face of his attackers and seeing nothing but fear clouding his vision. Chest hurting with no real pain to behold yet- just looming anxiety of what will happen. Of what’s going to happen if he doesn’t find a way out of this place.

But as he looks and looks and looks he still has no answers. Only questions.  So, so many questions. His heart hasn’t stopped beating a mile a minute for a second since the attack started and he doesn’t know what to do. Nothing at all within this encounter could point him to the reason why these nameless, faceless strangers would have gone out of their way to attack him. He feels so lost in this situation. He can’t help but wonder just how he got into this situation. How could he have gone from running around and having fun with friends to this?

But as Hokuto looks into the cruel eyes of his two assailants, already gearing up for another attack, he realizes two things: The first is that the question that keeps circling his brain in his moment might be one that he’ll never know the answer to.  Even if he makes it out of that place unarmed. And second?’

It’s that he should have never picked up that water gun today at all.

[thelakeofnimue]

Alte Liebe Rostet Nicht (AO3 Fic) - Complete

Fandom: Ensemble Stars Characters: Sena Izumi , Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Orriginal Male Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s), Sena Izumi's Mother (Ensemble Stars!), Sakuma Ritsu, Tsukinaga Leo, Narukami Arashi, Suou Tsukasa, Sakasaki Natsume, Harukawa Sora, Kagehira Mika Pairing: Sena Izumi/Original Characters Language: English (with bits of German) Words: 81,971

If you enjoy my work, I would appreciate a reblog so it can get out there!

The only long fic I 100%ed so far. I want to promote it a little more. Apologies if it gets annoying, I really want to get it out there is all.

[musicalfanfiction99]

Ensemble Stars Main Story Information

Story will be in (kinda)present day.

I think this story is mainly going to be during or before the war but I might make some things after the war because why not.

The reader(you) is enrolled as a producer in the Production course at Yumenosaki but also in the Idol course.

A sibling has gone to Yumenosaki academy but only for the Idol course

That is all of the information I am giving out for the story.

[neolxzr]

you know aira as a mixed race character could have been made SO much more interesting with this story if it was written. like the exact opposite of how it was written

so aira in japan was often assumed to be a foreigner because he's blonde and (supposedly) racially ambiguous looking. this bothered him because he didn't like people assuming that he was so much different from them when, in reality, he had pretty much the same childhood as any other japanese kid.

but imagine for this story, they travel to france but instead of immediately being mistaken for a local for some reason (how white is this boy supposed to look), he's instead ALSO assumed to be a foreigner while in france. he doesn't dress like a local, he's not speaking french, and his group of friends is a lot more obviously not white than he is. this should make him happy, right? since they're not assuming he's something he isn't, like they did at home. but it makes him instead just feel really... othered. if he doesn't fit in japan and he doesn't fit in in france, then where does he fit in? why is he too much of something for one group of people, but not enough of it for the other?

but does this not make him even more fit to stand at the side of alkaloid, the unit who's united by their shared experience of being othered? so maybe its alright if a lot of the people around him don't make him feel like he belongs. because he's already found where he's supposed to be.

[clockworkspider]

I volunteered as a tag wrangler on AO3 for a while so I know how tags work.

If your rare ship does not exist on AO3 under the dropdown yet, write it in.

A friendly tag wrangler will enter that tag into the database, and it will soon become filterable and appear under the dropdown.

If you're worried about not knowing AO3 tag naming convention, don't. The tag wrangler will make a "canonical" version of the tag that will appear in the drop-down (consistent with existing tags), and your tag will be made into a "synonym" of that tag. So... For example, if you tagged Midori/Yuzuru and the actual canonical tag is suppose to be the other way around, your tag will remain as it is, but still appear under the Fushimi Yuzuru/Takamine Midori filter.

Do not appropriate the "&" tag for said relationship, those are for platonic relationship only. (And vice versa.)

This goes esp to poly ships. If you have X/Y/Z, and the only ship under the dropdown are X/Y and X & Z, just write in the whole poly ship instead of tagging the individual ships within. (You can still do that if your fic does focus on some of the individual relationships within, tho.)

AO3 tag wrangler will only make a "canonical tag" after someone has already used it. Your ship will appear under the drop down only AFTER someone have tagged it once (and a tag wrangler has seen to it).

If you only tag the characters and/or individual ship within the poly, then your rareship will never be made into a canonical tag.

[poetryandfluffycats]

OKAY. since reqs are open uhm would you write madara cucking kuro plz...

like literally fucking fem!reader getting fucked, kuro's clothed boner pressed to her cheek while he kinda js sits back in shock and doesn't know what to do while mama is fucking her rrroughhhh and is like "you like my cock that much? kuros right there you'll make him angry" and shit. idk DOES THIS MAKE SENSE but yeah 🫶🏻

-🍓anon

A/N: I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THE PLOT OMG SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope it's too ur liking I may have gone off the rails a little bit....

Pairing: Kuro Kiryu x fem!reader x Madara Mikejima

Content: Madaras into you, everyone and their dog knows that. Only problem is, you have a boyfriend.

Warnings: NSFW, dub-con, slut-shaming, oral sex(f receiving), cuckolding, dry humping, sexual harassment(?), mentions of cheating, established relationship with kuro, ooc madara(?), they're both ooc tbh💀, porn with plot

Words: 2.1k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

Have Him Watch?~

It was no secret that Madara had a thing for you. He had made his advances-both romantic and sexual alike-very obvious to you and everyone else, not even hesitating to flirt with you right in front of your own boyfriend, Kuro.

Kuro wasn't the type to let himself fall into petty jealousy, he knew you loved him and that nothing would never change that. Therefore, he hardly batted an eye whenever Madara made another stuipd comment about your body, or when his hands would linger for just a bit too long. It was better to simply ignore him and wait for Madara to get the hint. Kuro knew he was strong, but to pick a fight with Madara? Death wish.

So, he didn't aggravate him in any way, letting the bigger man do this thing until he realised he had no chance with you. Which is why he was confused when Madara cornered him in the gym one day, his teeth gleaming in his signature smirk.

"Kuro! My friend, my pal! Got a minute?" He beamed, slinging his arm around Kuros shoulders and pulling him in close, squeezing so hard you'd think he was trying to suffocate him.

"Uh, I'm a bit busy right now" Kuro pushed him off, dusting himself off and returning his attention to the weights he had been lifting. "Maybe later"

Madara smile didn't waver, if anything it only grew in size. Clearly, he had no interest in leaving anytime soon, not even when Kuro desperately wanted him too. Whatever Madara wanted from him, he didn't have the time for it. Not now, hopefully not ever.

"Ah, cmon! It'll only take a second!" He chirped, plopping down on the bench beside Kuro, crossing his legs and watching as the redhead started his reps. "Hey, working hard or hardly working, am I right? Hahaha~"

"Out with it, Mikejima" Kuro grunted, resisting the urge to smash his weights straight in the mans face. All he wanted was a peaceful workout, was that too much to ask for?

Madara laughed, waving his hand dismissively as if to clear the tension. "Always so blunt, I've always liked that about you y'know!" He grinned, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "So, you and (name), huh? How serious have you gotten with her? Is it marriage?"

Now he was just starting to piss him off. How was this any of his business? Sure, you and Madara were friends, but where did he get off asking for details about your relationship?

"She's my girl, yeah" Kuro answered, praying that his short replies would deter him from the conversation. If that was even possible.

"Right, right. And just hypothetically, if she were to cheat on you, would you be mad?"

Kuro tighten his grip on the weights, his knuckles turning white at the strain. "What are you getting at? You trying to start something?" He said through gritted teeth, shooting a glare in the brunettes direction.

Madara chuckled, putting one hand up in defence and using the other to playfully slap Kuro on the shoulder-a gesture that he did not appreciate, might I add. "Woah! Easy, I don't wanna fight ya! I'm just curious. Hey, maybe you'd let her cheat on you, I don't know what you're into!"

Kuro dropped the weights, the metal making a loud 'clunk' sound as they hit the floor, causing the other members of the gym to look over and stare at the two. Not that he gave a damn, oh no. Not when this clown was making a scene. How dare he suggest you would have an affair? Was he out of his mind?

"What's wrong with you? Of course I'd be mad, what makes you think I'd be cool with that? Get lost man" He spat, shoving him aside as he rose to his feet. The blood rushing through his veins felt as if it was burning as he sped away, not wanting to spend another second with such a fool.

What even was that? Kuro had gotten used to Madaras teasing and loud personality. Hell, he'd even grown to enjoy it to an extent. But this was just insulting. Why was he even saying those things? Did he know something Kuro didn't? Had you....

No, that was silly. You would never be unfaithful, that just wasn't you at all. Yet here he was, images flooding his mind of you tangled in Madaras arms, both of your bodies sticky with sweat and cum as you screamed his name. It was disgusting.

But so, so hot.

Shit.

/-----

You and Madara were friends. It was normal for friends to hang out alone in each other's bedrooms, even if they were the opposite gender, right?

Yeah, of course it was fine! Who were you kidding, it was perfectly acceptable.

You two were good friends, the best of friends! So it was normal for him to hug you, to wrap his arms around your waist from behind and pull you closer. He was a touchy person, after all. It was totally okay for him to nuzzle into your neck and inhale the smell of your perfume, to pepper kisses all over your jawline, to grind his erection against your ass-

Wait a minute.

"H-hey! What are you doing?" You yelped, squirming around in his grasp in a feeble attempt to escape his hold. It didn't matter how close you were, there was no way you'd be comfortable with this!

"What's wrong?" He cooed, your wiggling only seeming to excite him further as he continued his humping. "Friends cuddle all the time! Or are we not friends anymore?"

"This isn't cuddling! This is-ah! This is, oh fuck! This is sexual harassment, you perverted fuck!" You cursed yourself for allowing your voice to crack, letting those dreaded moans spill out like you were some whore who enjoyed this. Which, of course, you didn't! You didn't like it, right? Dammit!

"Sexual harassment, huh? If that's what floats your boat" Madara chuckled, pushing his hands past the hem of your skirt, groping the soft flesh of your thighs.

You squirmed around, hitting at his chest and clawing at his arms. It was no use, damn him and his muscles! In this position all you could do was stand there and take it, because in all honesty, you knew that no amount of protesting would get him to stop. Even of you did get away, it wouldn't be for long, Madara was as stubborn as ever and you knew for a fact that he wasn't afraid to use force to get his way.

You just didn't realize that part of him would ever show itself to you.

"Kuro. Kuro will be home soon, and he'll-ah! He'll kick your ass!" You threatened, snapping your head around to glare at the man behind you. Using Kuro as a form of defence probably wasn't the best idea, but it was your last resort. Begging and trying to fight back certainly didn't work against Madara.

He just laughed. "Maybe we can have him watch"

"What do you-"

A sudden knock at the door cut you off, the familiar voice of your beloved boyfriend coming from behind it. "Uh, (name)? Do you have someone over? Why's the door shut? Can I come in?"

Oh fuck. No!

It suddenly dawned on you just how horrible this would look to Kuro, you pinned against another man with his hands up your skirt? Anyone would think you were a cheating whore! No matter how much you tried to explain the situation, it would still look the same. You had dug your own grave by even letting Madara come over!

Madara pressed his lips to your earlobe, nipping on the soft flesh and whispering lowly, "Do you want me to stop?"

Yes! No! Maybe?

God, why did it have to feel so fucking good?

"Babe? I'm coming in"

"Wait-ah-no! Don't-"

Too late.

The door swung open, the face of your wide-eyed and shocked boyfriend sending a wave of guilt down your spine. He looked at you, then Madara, then you again, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out, only surprised mumbles and stutters.

You honestly couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, confused, aroused, maybe a mix of all three? And it didn't help that you were unaware of what emotions you should have been feeling either. Should you scream for help, or moan in pleasure? Push Madara away or pull him closer?

"Kuro... this isn't..." You started, trailing off when you glanced over the very obvious tent in the redheads jeans. Oh. Oh shit.

So he was aroused by this? What even was this? Some twisted form of roleplay? A fetish that the two men discussed that you didn't know about? Did Kuro actually like this, or was his body reacting subconsciously?

Either way, you didn't have much time to think about it before Madara picked you up from under your thighs and tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll, wasting no time in climbing in between your thighs and nuzzling his nose into your panties.

"Mm~ You smell so good" He purred, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of pleasure to your core, a gasp mixed with a whorey moan leaving your lips at the feeling.

The redhead in the doorway cleared his throat, footsteps echoing in the room as he made his way over to where you lay on the bed. He sat down beside you, a hand coming out to gently stroke your cheek. It was a soothing action. One that might have made your heart melt if there wasn't another man currently lapping at your panties like a starved dog.

"Is this okay? I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it first.." He apologised, his face flushed pink and his lips turned upwards into a small smile. "Just tell me if your not enjoying it and I'll kick him out, alright? That's okay?"

You gulped, then nodded, bringing your own hand up to hold his as you squirmed around on the mattress, your mind slowly but surely becoming goo at the pleasure spreading through your veins.

"Ah!- I don't know"- Madara looked up at you with those big brown eyes, choosing that moment to flatten his tongue against your clothed clit, making a show of slurping and smacking his lips together -"f-fuck yes! Oh god, please!"

With consent finally granted, Madara hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down in a second and diving straight into the heat of your pussy. He flicked his tongue up and down, side to side, round in circles and everywhere he could possibly reach inside of you.

Anything to make you scream his name, and scream his name you did. You threw your head to the side, falling into Kuros lap, as he brushed over that one spot, a spot that not even Kuro had reached before.

"Shit! Right there! Ah-ha~ Madara" You cried out, wrapping your legs around his head in a death grip, shoving his tongue even further inside you. "So good!"

He pulled his tounge out of your wet hole, opting to swirl and flick it over your clit. You withered and squirmed around on the bed, griping onto the sheets as hard as possible. The knot in your lower belly was starting to build, and both Madara and Kuro could tell. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire under Madaras touch, every inch of your body begging for release.

It just felt so good. So, so, so good-

"Ah-gonna cum!"

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, toes curling and eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your lips parted and you were panting so heavy you barely had enough breath left in your lungs to moan or even scream. Juices splattered all over the face of the man in between your legs, dripping down his chin as he drank it up like it was the finest wine in the world.

Madara pulled away from your swollen cunt, climbing up onto the bed and hovering above you, leaning down to capture your lips in a quick kiss.

"Aren't you a little slut, huh? Getting off on my tongue while your boyfriend watched? You came so quickly, does he not treat you right?" He cooed, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes.

Kuro, who had been dead quiet the whole time, finally spoke up. "You didn't have to be so rough with her" He grumbled, stroking the top of your head.

Madara huffed, a grin tugging at his lips. "She loves it! Don't you know what your own girlfriend likes?" He rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to your blissed-out form. "Ready for more, sweetheart?"

[maoisarap]

BEANBAG; no au

Mao Isara centric oneshot

WARNINGS: none. it's fluff.

PAIRS: hokumao (romantic)

WRITTEN: 26/11/23

REPOSTED: 25/10/24 (this is queued for 26th, though)

WORD COUNT: 800-900

The day was finally over, and instead of heading to the dormitory as he usually does, Mao followed Hokuto to the olders' family home after he asked in doing so once school hours had ended.

The temperature of the evening was warm. Comfortable and welcoming, as Hokuto wrapped one of his hands around Mao's own, side glancing towards the beaujolais-haired boy who seemed in awe of the scenery around the route they decided to walk.

Mao has only ever visited Hokuto's house a few times, but the couple always take the same road, and it surprises Hokuto every time with how fascinated Mao was with the said road. Kiddy parks were always full. The greenery was lush and vibrant even during the colder times of the year, and what made it more beautiful was just over the horizon of the town down below, he can see the ocean that seemed to sparkle during the hours of sunset and sunrise.

The door to the house opens with a click once they arrive a few minutes afterwards.

"Dad? Are you in?" Hokuto's voice echoed.

Mao placed his bag down on the empty hook on the wall and slid his shoes off whilst he placed them against the skirting board. The carpet beneath his figure was as soft as the other times he's visited the Hidaka house, like as though it was brand new.

Echoed pads were heard up ahead, and the sounds of Hokuto struggling came with it. "Can you not? Isara is here!"

Mao glanced up at the mentions of his name and saw Seiya giving Mao's boyfriend the most tightest hug a dad could ever give his child. "So what! I'm not allowed to give my son some love?"

"You're embarrassing." Hokuto tuts as he finally managed to shove himself away from his male parent.

Mao steps up to the family, chuckling in amusement and taking notice of Hokuto's flushed features. "Good evening, Mister Hidaka!" He grins up towards the adult male.

"Good evening to you too, Isara. I'm guessing you're staying here for the weekend again?"

"If it's not too much hassle."

"Of course not! You're welcome here any time!"

"Okay... that's enough from you, dad. Stop stealing my boyfriend's attention now." Hokuto huffs as he latches onto Mao's wrist and dragging him past his dad.

Faint teasing murmurs could be heard from Seiya Hidaka.

Mao was then brought to Hokuto's bedroom. He glances around the room, always astonished to how someone can keep their bedroom so clean like as though it was on show for a furniture shop.

The bedroom was of mostly neutral colours, the theme matched all around at every corner and inch Mao casts his eyesight over.

A sudden gasp then parts between his lips. "You've got a beanbag now?!" Immediately, without thought, Mao jumped down onto it as he wriggled his back around to get more comfortable.

Whilst he was doing so, Hokuto was going through his chest of drawers for some pyjamas for himself and a spare pair for Isara. "Yeah, my grandma brought it for me a month ago. She said it's to make my room look somewhat more 'cosy'. I don't understand why, I think my room is already cosy enough..." Hokuto turns around after grabbing a pair of pyjamas and a onesie, throwing the onesie Mao's way.

"I can see where she's coming from!" Mao's says after catching the onesie in his hold. "Your room does kind of look monochrome with all these shades, but I kind of like it, you know? It's a relaxing sight from all the colours we see when we're performing. You don't have to worry about your eyes feeling so sore from such vibrancy."

"That's true, I guess."

They both get changed into their preferred pyjamas sets as Hokuto places his and Mao's school uniforms into his linen bin beside his bedroom door.

Mao stood around in the middle of the room for a second, fiddling with the onesie's hood that sat above his head fairly loose and large. Once Hokuto turns around from doing his small chore, Mao grabs a hold of Hokuto by the wrist and drags him to the beanbag, immediately sitting back down onto it with pulling the black-haired boy down with him, causing the mentioned older to yelp in surprise in the middle of the action.

A small and bright laugh comes from Mao as once again, he gets himself comfortable onto the furniture piece, twisting himself to his side as he leans his head on Hokuto's right shoulder, a sigh of content and relief releasing between the small gap of his lips.

"Hey, Hokuto?"

"What's up?" The older hums.

A slight hesitancy comes from Mao, his lips parted as he spoke, "I love you." He confesses as he glances up to Hokuto. Green meeting blue, like a lush field during spring reaching to the calming sky.

Hokuto leans down and pecks a kiss to Mao's forehead — causing the beaujolais-haired younger to smile softly, "I love you too."

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

NEW MAGICAL BOY KEITO HASUMI CHAPTER OUT! PLEASE ENJOY!

[issacballsac]

Shu would be insufferable watching any show/movie fashion ingrained. Whether he’s oggling and admiring or bickering and criticising you will NEVER get the full enjoyment of a fashionable film with him nearby.

[mishkakagehishka]

Growing Up, part 1: Forgotten

Pretend like I finished this Mika birthday fic in time for his actual birthday, love and peace Directory

Fandom: Ensemble Stars!! Concept: an exploration of Mika's past and his growing inner psychology as presented through the celebrations of his 15th, 16th and 18th birthday (or, during his final year before Yumenosaki, first year in Yumenosaki/pre-War era, and 3rd year in Yumenosaki/!!time as calculated by the person who almost failed maths in years 11 and 12) Word count for this chapter: 1843 Summary for this chapter: December is always busy. Some things are just bound to end up forgotten in the midst of all the work needed for a child to survive, to help other children survive.

Warnings for this chapter: implied child neglect, implied exploitation of child labour, Mika doesn't eat, in general this one is angst-focused

It seemed like the work was never-ending. It always was like that around this time, late December. Preparations for the New Year's. Comforting those who still haven't made peace with having no family to greet the new year with. Of course, it all fell on Mika. Not like he minded; by then he had lost all hope- no, he didn't even want to be adopted anymore. What could something like a family possibly give him? It would be just giving the universe another chance to show him that he was unwanted, incapable of being loved by anyone. It was just handing someone else the chance to throw him away on a silver platter. He had no need for it.

Besides, Mika was like… an older brother to the other kids. He couldn't abandon them like that. They rely on him, they need him, they are his family. If he were to leave, what would happen to them? They all depend on him, the money he earns feeds them, the rags he mended clothe them. If he were to be adopted, it would be no different to abandoning them. He would be no different to all the other adults who had already given up on those innocent kids. They were his responsibility now. If it weren’t for Mika, those kids would be left to fend for themselves, with nobody caring whether they lived or died. Rather, he’s certain many would prefer those kids like them – like him – gone.

Those are the thoughts that ran through his head as he washed dish after dish. The soap irritated his hands, but callouses had long already formed, his hands toughened, he paid discomfort no mind. Part-time jobs were hard enough to come by, for a 14-year-old. Mika took what he was given. He had to. He was paid under the table - peanuts at that. But every little bit counted.

Every little bit counted, he repeated to himself, scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing, until his vision blurred, until his eyes started stinging. The soap, probably, must have gotten in his eyes when he was moving a strand of hair that obstructed his vision. He sucked in some air. Held his breath. Breathed out. A practiced action, to steel his nerves. To calm his thoughts. And he continued working, because even those peanuts had to be earned. He who does not work, does not eat. He who does not work, will have to watch his lil’ siblings cry from hunger pains.

He spent all day on his feet. He always did. From the morning - helping the younger kids get dressed and ready. Feeding the youngest ones. Crying alongside the tot who refused to eat because of his fever. He'd have to buy medicine, too. But where would he get the money? His part-time jobs barely cover his bus fare and… food. A sigh. To Mika, the choice was obvious, and the decision was made in moments. Because he's a big boy already, he doesn't need it as much as the little ones do. He's in charge of them. He's their protector, their caretaker, the one who will never abandon them like the adults have. Their Big Brother Mika. Though his stomach grumbled in protest at the very thought, he knew it was the responsible thing to do, the right thing to do.

Running around from that morning, helping slower kids clean up, before hurriedly running out without lunch - to his part-time job. The first lined up in that day. Though his stomach growled embarrassingly, he kept his gaze to the floor, hoping nobody would mind him. Nobody would notice him. Thankfully, the older employees ("older" being the high school part-timers) shared their lunch with him. And although he didn't want to accept, his hunger was far too obvious, and they insisted. And he was embarrassed by how eagerly he ate those little candies, nearly tearing the wrappers apart. Yet even eating those small candies, drooling over them like a dog and eyes glowing from joy, he had to excuse it to himself. It’s fine if he eats, he would be of no use passed out. Mika had to make excuses for himself, because a part of him would always nag – you could have given those candies to little Mei who has been crying for three days straight now or to little Aoi who had only just arrived and was still in shock. But he promised himself: when he makes it big, when he becomes an idol like those he saw on TV, like those two he adored so much, he’ll buy those little kids candy by the truckload.

He’ll make it all up to them.

The second job, that evening, wasn’t really a job. Perhaps more like thrifting. Dumpster diving. His favourite. It was a way to save up. He could find many clothes that were still perfectly wearable, with minor alterations, and various trinkets he could DIY into cute decorative objects he could sell to people on the street. Although as he’s gotten older, people are becoming less likely to open their wallets for him. But he would rather beg and plead on the street than make one of the younger kids stand in the cold, at the mercy of strangers.

Regardless, there are always so many things to be found in the dumpsters, that Mika always looked forward to it.

All sorts of things get thrown away. After a hard day of work, Mika allows himself dig through the garbage dump itself. So many wonderful things get thrown away because they were a little odd-looking or a somewhat broken. As if it negated their worth. But Mika knew better. He could always see the hidden gems, the beauty that only lay dormant beneath the eyes that were hanging by a loose thread, torn fabric and stuffing that peeked out. Beneath the tears and the dirt, he knew. All it would take is a little care, a little love. And he could provide that love. For the abandoned toys, he could be their saviour. The one to clean up the grime and sew up the wounds, to hold and cradle and whisper, "It's going to be alright, you'll never be thrown away again."

He scrubbed the dishes harder. He still had to earn that money. The little one's fever isn't going down and he refuses to eat. Mika was gone; he doesn't know if they got him to eat after breakfast. It was up to him, as it always was, to make up for the neglect they must have suffered when he returns for dinner. If he manages to return in time for dinner. But the siren call of an extra 300 yen if he stayed late was hard to resist.

Every little bit counts.

"I'm home," he whispered, to nobody in particular. It was well past midnight. The kids would be asleep, he hoped. So, with the little bag from the pharmacy in one hand, and his patchwork backpack slung over his shoulder, Mika tiptoed upstairs, to the dorms. Fumbling with the doorknob, he carefully leaned a hand on the door, pushing it open slowly enough to avoid creaking. In an effort to make as little sound as possible. But instead of to a quiet dorm filled only with the sounds of sleeping children, Mika opened the door to a room full of children who looked as they were wide awake. Who were wide awake. And suddenly all eyes were on him, who stood there like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in place.

"Big Brother Mika!" It took only seconds for him to be surrounded. He tried to shush them, but what's a tween to a bunch of lively ankle biters? "Where were you all day?!" they were angry. The little ones, all with puffed up cheeks, a few with arms crossed, a few pulling at his clothes to bring him inside, one even (attempting to, with most of the strength present in her tiny fists) trying to hit him. They pulled him towards his bed, where he could see papers and a small box.

"You missed it! You made us miss it, too! Meanie!" and such similar accusations flew. "Wha- what? What did I miss? 'M sorry, was it somethin' important? I was caught up in work, but I'll make it up to y'all, I pro-" "Your birthday, dummy!"

Mika paused.

His birthday. Was that that day? The day before? He once more looked at his bed.

Covered in sweat from the day's work, the filth and stink of rubbish clinging to him, he felt out of place. The papers were handmade cards, with misspelled words and barely legible simple lettering. The box must have been a gift. Did they spend money on him? They couldn't have. "You- you lot shouldn't be so irresponsible, I told'ja to save up yer pocket money… Why would'ja…" He couldn't cry in front of them. He knew he had to always be strong for them, he couldn't cry, even when his voice caught in his throat, even when his eyes started feeling damp.

And Mika stood there, hands covering his face as he sobbed, shaking with each wail. He wasn't sad, far from it. But his heart clenched, and his stomach churned, and he felt like he was about to be nauseous. He'd forgotten his own birthday, so preoccupied with working to survive, to make sure his kiddos survive. He's disappointed those same kiddos, who just wanted to celebrate with him. But instead of the anger growing, they urged him to open the box at least. Instead of hating him for not allowing them the satisfaction of a joint celebration, they asked him to watch the DVD with them all, on the tiny portable TV. Instead of hating him for the stupid mistake he had made, they easily leaned into his embrace, allowing him to hug them, hugging him back, as he continued crying and calling them such good kids, his sweet lil’ angels.

Of course, he sent off the youngest ones to bed, given it was well after one in the morning, promising to rewatch the DVD with them twice the next day. And with the rest, huddled together, they watched the newest Yumenosaki first years performing. The up-and-coming Valkyrie. With most of the kids having fallen asleep about half an hour in, it was really just Mika watching.

Mika, who vowed to himself, that he'd get into Yumenosaki, too. That he'd stand on a stage just like those two, that he'd show everyone… that he'd show these kids he's in charge of - his kids - that they can make it out of this place. He would be their example. Their lighthouse. But for now, he'll continue tucking them in, reading them bedtime stories, dressing them in the mornings, buying them clothes, food, medicine, caring for them. Working three jobs in one day. Loving them in place of the family, adults who abandoned them. Just as he wished someone would have done for him.

[knightzp]

here is my piece for the ensemble stars!! big bang 2023 @enstarsbb !!! 

i had the honor of working with @yume-fanfare who did some beautiful and lovely art pieces for it, you can check the first one out here!

[setsuntamew]

Kaname Tojou has the perfect life with his husband Tatsumi Kazehaya and their two dogs...up until it all falls apart around him and he wakes up from a coma to find that he APPARENTLY doesn't even know Tatsumi. But he's sure there's something more between them, and he's made it his mission to find out.

[read on AO3]