#if it starts to matter that it looks like a particular person it becomes harder lol

[ssjumi]

100 Heads Challenge ⭐ [ 1 / 2 ]

[o-sachi]

You're Just My Type pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ What kind of person is the blue lock boys' ideal girl in terms of looks and personality?

ଳ characters; michael kaiser, sae itoshi, isagi yoichi, rin itoshi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishirou, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke, alexis ness

ଳ requested by; @itenesycc

[🐟]: I tried to include as many as possible. Hopefully this fulfills your request! I might make a part two with everyone else I missed.

‎

ᯓ Michael Kaiser - the domestic & doting type

Kaiser turns into the biggest baby around his s/o. How could he not? She spoils him rotten after all. And she hardly minds because she knows that he's just seeking out the care and affection he missed out in his childhood. In a way, he's healing his inner child. Don't get me wrong; he's not using her as some sort of replacement for a parent figure. But he's trying to feel what it's like to be truly loved.

He absolutely loves it when she cooks for him. His heart throbs like crazy whenever their s/o shows even the slightest bit of concern for him. And don't even get him started about the way she would take care of him before and after his practice. At the end of the day, he makes sure to reciprocate her efforts in his own little ways. Suddenly, he's the kindest, most gentle, and most loving man on Earth. And whenever his salary comes in, she's sure to be at a fancy restaurant that night and receiving the queen treatment she deserves.

I have a feeling that he's into nice looking hair. It doesn't matter if it's long or short as long as it's healthy and has volume to it. He's probably into dyed hair as well. He also finds that beautiful hair pairs up well with a pretty set of eyes. The more expressive they are, the better.

ᯓ Sae Itoshi - the shy & soft-spoken type

Sae might seem like a big b*tch to everyone else, but he's surprisingly nice to women (as long as they're not a crazy fanatic). Well... "nice" is a bold term, so let's just say he's aloof. He's not harsh towards them, but he's not going to smile at them either. But! Deep down he has a soft spot for the cute and shy kind of girl. He just can't find it in him to be cold to that kind of person; It almost feels wrong.

But, yes, he'll never admit that in a million years. However, the changeup is noticeable. It's subtle, but you can tell through how his voice softens ever so slightly when talking to his s/o. She might be cursing herself for failing to maintain eye contact with him or tripping over her sentences. But Sae finds all of this quite endearing. And trust me when I say that he becomes the biggest menace around her—making her flustered at every opportunity he comes across. He can't get enough of it.

In terms of looks, he likes it when a girl has soft features with short hair that frames her rounded face. Her plump cheeks make it more enjoyable for him to poke whenever he teases her. It's also canon that he's into ass... so, yeah. He says it's all about the shape and less about the size.

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - the funny & carefree type

Isagi had the luxury of growing up in a healthy environment, so I think it's only natural for him to gravitate towards someone the same. If she has a great sense of humor with a relaxed demeanor, then he's pretty much sold. Frankly, he doesn't need anything more. Isagi finds beauty in simplicity. His s/o is someone akin to a hidden gem. She isn't flashy by any means, but she's incredibly sweet so she stands out that way.

He wonders why no one has gone after her before. But, oh well, more of her for him! She never fails to make him laugh even if the jokes are corny. They're the type of couple everyone's annoyed at because they're too sweet and now they feel jealous. Oh, but Isagi fell even harder once she witnessed his different side while playing football. He fully expected her to be repulsed, but she was amused. Apparently it was cool to see him so pumped up like that.

He's not that particular when it comes to looks. As long as she has a gentle expression and she takes care of herself, he'll be happy. When it comes to clothes... well, he has no clue about that so even a simple style impresses him. He's really a low maintenance guy and we love him for that. Canonically into thighs, so he doesn't care if it's plump or muscular—he's content as long as he can squeeze 'em.

ᯓ Rin Itoshi - the perfectionist & intelligent type

When you think of the title "Ice Queen"—whatever comes to mind, that's exactly his type. In other words, I have a STRONG feeling that Rin is essentially going for the female version of himself. He doesn't give a shit if she's worse than him. In fact, that makes it better in his opinion. Someone's gotta put him in place, right? He'll happily let her do that as long as he deems her on par with him. And I don't mean that she has to be a football freak; she just needs to be more or less well-rounded.

Apart from his standards being sky high, he just wants to make sure that his girl is better than his brother's girl. Toxic, I know. But what were you expecting? Regardless, he'll always make sure to let her know that she's the best in his eyes. Totally out of character, but he'll be praising her like crazy if he's truly in love with her. I can definitely see an enemies-to-lovers story happening to this guy.

He's probably into the clean girl aesthetic. He finds the look elegant and sleek. It makes her look like she has her shit together and he digs that. Perhaps he prefers dark medium length hair—so, brown and black hues.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - the calm & laid-back type

When I say calm and laid-back, I don't necessarily mean someone who's the polar opposite of him. She's still going to be as hyper and energetic as him... just a bit more lowkey. Like if they were to go on an amusement park date and ride a rollercoaster—he'd be screaming his lungs out while she'd enjoy the ride quietly with a big smile plastered on her face. She'd gladly let him drag her to whatever crazy scheme he has planned. Spontaneous, but blends into the background kind of thing.

In a way, she's also responsible for mellowing him a little bit. Even though she's fully supportive of his antics, he'll unconsciously calm down at times to match her energy. He especially loves her because she accepts all of the overwhelming affection that he has to offer. Hugs that squeeze the air out of you? Sure, she'll take it. Kisses peppered relentlessly over her face? Great! Just another day for her.

I have this teensy feeling that Bachira might be into ponytails or pigtails. He thinks it makes any girl look cute regardless of the length of her hair. When it comes to height, he's the dude that does not care if she's taller than him. To be fair, he's pretty damn tall, so that should say something about him. Similar to Isagi, he cares more about personality.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - the sassy & independent type

I'll just say it... but Chigiri likes his girls a bit b*tchy. Not rude, not mean—but just the right amount of sass. She's not a bitch. She's THE bitch. You get me? He just loves how witty and snarky she can be. It makes the relationship more fun knowing that she can keep up with the banter without taking any offense. They definitely have an inside joke—something something about who has better hair...

She thinks she's his biggest supporter, but it's actually the other way around. The way this man will support his girl is like no other. He can't help it when he's dating a girlboss. Chigiri admires that she's headstrong and knows what she wants. Like ask her where she wants to eat and she'll give you a place... and an order.

Long pretty hair. No ifs, no buts. He wants someone that can rival his hair routine. Chigiri would even be the one to tie a pretty pink ribbon in her locks. I see him digging the whole clean girl aesthetic as well. He's into the preppy style—old money or academia fits best.

ᯓ Nagi Seishirou - the patient & reliable type

I'll be real and say that Nagi probably wasn't the best person to be in a relationship with in the early stages. Of course, he needs some time to get used to having a whole other person constantly be around his space, requiring his attention. It's going to be a difficult ordeal, so it's totally valid to get exhausted. But once he realizes how patient and understanding she is, he'll try harder for her.

One day he'll just wake up on a random morning missing her warmth, then his mind will wander to what his life would be like without her. He'd be terrified to the point that he'll do a full 360 and become the most doting he's ever been. Well, he'll nowhere be near overbearing, but he'll at least show that he cares.

He prefers it when she has short hair or if she has longer hair—she would normally have it in an updo. He says long hair makes it itchy when he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck when cuddling. And speaking of cuddling, Nagi would love it if she was built for warm cuddling. He falls asleep in seconds like a Minecraft character.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - the down-to-earth & responsible type

One of Reo's biggest considerations when it comes to finding love is his partner's perception of money. He's insanely rich, so it's understandable that he wants to find someone who isn't going to date him solely for his bank. He's going to be wary of everyone at first, but he'll fold once he finds someone who's genuinely practical and down-to-earth. Reo will be smitten knowing that she's staying with him because of... him.

With that being said, she needs to be responsible as well. I mean, responsible in the sense that she has her life together. She works hard towards her dreams which matches his goal-oriented persona. If she's financially responsible then, even better. Make those budget spreadsheets in front of him and he'll be impressed. In the end, he spoils her anyway.

Reo's probably into the unique kind of look. She dyed her hair a fun color and wears bold fashion pieces. Minimalist tattoos and piercings are her thing. He'll definitely take pictures of her and post her on his social media—practically bragging about her. He may or may not have paid for most of her tats and piercings because he thinks they're hot.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - the tough & street smart type

Kunigami is a strong-willed person before and after the wildcard. So, of course, he'd be drawn to someone of the same air. His ideal girl is someone who can handle herself in tough situations—someone with a gritty, no-nonsense attitude and a street-smart edge. She knows how to navigate the challenges of life with a cool head and a confident stride. In other words, she can fight her own battles, but appreciates that Kunigami would always be there by her side regardless.

He's attracted to her because she isn't afraid to speak up for herself or for whatever she stands for, even if it means challenging him. They both believe that actions speak louder than words and they constantly express that belief towards each other in their relationship. Together, they're the power couple that everyone aspires to be.

In terms of appearance, he's not too fussy about it. He's more attracted to the fact that she's confident in her body. But he would definitely bark for her if she was a muscle mommy. Her fashion sense is practical yet stylish, reflecting her no-fuss attitude. Kunigami loves that she can effortlessly switch between tough and tender, and he's always in awe of her versatility.

ᯓ Alexis Ness - the creative & clingy type

Ness is into the artsy girls. Doesn't really matter if it's drawing, painting, theater, or writing—as long as she possesses the creative spirit. He believes that the creation of art is magical in and of itself. It's not supernatural by any means, but the fact that she can create something with her own hands that no one else can exactly replicate baffles him. He's the biggest fan of her works—that's for sure. It's practically praise galore when he's around.

He feels the most loved when his girl expresses the desire to be around him whenever she can. Quality time and physical affection are his non-negotiables in a relationship. And unlike most people, he'd find her clinginess endearing rather than annoying. He's going to be so generous with his affection—she better be prepared to take in ALL of it.

He's also very much into girls with tattoos. The regular black ink ones are nice, but the colorful tats are amazing. Bonus points if the tattoo has sentimental value to her. I think he's also similar to Bachira in that he doesn't mind if she's taller than him. She wants to wear heels on date night? By all means, go ahead. He'll compliment her anyway.

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[literaila]

how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do

obviously, they’ve all noticed.

the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.

the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.

and then it becomes more than just a… change.

it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.

tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.

and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.

just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.

but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.

and lying to themselves, of course.

eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.

(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).

“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”

he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.

but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.

and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.

megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.

so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.

he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).

but he knows.

and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.

(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).

so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.

“you want me to what, exactly?”

“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”

satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”

megumi gives him another look.

and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.

he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”

“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.

satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.

it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”

“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”

“she needs a break.”

satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”

megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.

“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”

“it’s geology.”

satoru waves a hand, indifferent.

(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.

what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).

“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”

“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”

“buy something else.”

“who taught you to be this stubborn?”

megumi only scowls at him.

satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.

yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.

eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”

megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.

he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.

satoru is nothing if not nosy.

and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.

“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”

“it’s for you.”

there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”

megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.

“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”

he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”

you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.

“what?”

“why are you upset?”

“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“

“are you sick?”

“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“

“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“

“no.”

and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.

satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.

if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.

“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.

“i’m staying here.”

“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“you’re sad.”

“i’m not.”

megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.

for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.

“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”

you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.

satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.

he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—

megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.

like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.

he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.

and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.

climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.

megumi’s learned from the best.

“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”

megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.

and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.

no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.

none of you are very good with words.

but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.

he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.

and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.

you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.

maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.

and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.

there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse

and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”

and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow x GN Reader

Held

Content warning: reader is having a mental breakdown, some self loathing, holding unrealistic standards for themselves and as a result being unkind to themselves is involved. Shadow is there to comfort you. Hurt/comfort if you wish to skip to the comfort look for the ❤️. See my reblog for more notes

Your legs felt heavy with each step you took as the rain pounded against your umbrella.

The day had dragged on particularly long today, you were exhausted both physically and emotionally. You were finding it harder and harder to put on your usual happy face, the same one that kept others at bay, that made them think that you're okay, that nothing was wrong.

It wasn't any particular thing that made you feel like this, you suppose it was just something that had been built up over time. The world threw One thing at you, and another, and another until finally it had become too much to bear.

You had to keep going, no matter what. You didn't have time to cry, you couldn't let others see it, then they would know.

They would know that you weren't okay. That you were broken, and they'd hate you for it.

"This wasn't you. " They'd say. " You are a happy person, your joyful demeanor makes us feel better. How could you betray us like this? We need you to be happy. So be fucking happy damnit!"

The thoughts swirled around your head making you dizzy, you needed to get home as soon as possible so you could be alone.

You picked up the pace only focused on the path ahead of you, the one that would lead you home. There you could take off your mask, there you could be sad, or angry, feel all of those ugly emotions and no one else could see it. You were safe from the world and it's prying eyes.

You were so focused on getting home that you didn't notice that Shadow was in your path. Before you could even register what was happening you bumped into him.

"Hey, watch where you're going y/n you could have gotten hurt"

A soft "sorry" escaped you're lips.

Of course you ran into him now, right when you were on the edge. He was going to hate you now wasn't he, or worse pity you. you refused to look him in the eye, you knew that once you did it would all be over, he could see right through you, he would know that you were a liar, that behind you're cheerful facade you were just a sad pathetic child crying over nothing and you needed to suck it up.

"Hey. what's wrong?" Shadow asked with a gentle tone.

"nothing, I'm fine." You responded.

"No you're not, I can see it in your face, tell me."

"No."

"Did someone hurt you?"

"No"

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"No"

"Did something happ-"

Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes stinging you with their saltines. A lump grew in you throat that you tried to swallow down to no avail.

"NO, JUST STOP OKAY, NOTHING IS WRONG I'M FI- ...I'm fine."

❤️

Shadow reached out his had and held your cheek lifting your face to meet his. His crimson eyes staring deep into yours full of worry.

That was all it took for the dam to break. Tears flowed out of your eyes cascading down your face your breath hitched as you began to shake abandoning your umbrella. Your knees gave out, Shadow catching you before you could hit the ground wrapping you in a tight embrace before gently lowering you down.

Shadow's arms were tight around you refusing to let you go as you cried into him your tears wetting his ebony fur.

Finally giving into him you wrapped your arms around him and clung to him for dear life. His embrace was warm and tender as he rubbed small circles into your back, he rested his head on top of your's protecting you from the rain as you cried.

You could feel the strength of his arms around you as he pulled you in closer. He didn't say anything, he didn't pull away he just held you as you finally released the emotions that had been building up for months. The two of you sat intertwined for what felt like an hour, only when you were ready did he even consider releasing you from his arms.

You let go cool air entering your lungs as you took your first breath away from Shadow. Looking around you noticed that at some point Shadow had chaos controlled the two of you into your room giving you some much needed privacy as well as getting you two out of the inclement weather.

Your face felt hot and swollen, your mouth felt dry as thick saliva clung to the back of your throat. Your exhaustion grew deeper as you came out of your breakdown.

Shadow stood up grabbing a throw blanket and your favorite plushie that he insisted you were "too old for". He wrapped you up in the blanket and handed you the beloved stuffie.

"hold this I'll be back in a minute" his tone of voice was so gentle that if you hadn't seen the words coming out of his mouth, you would have sworn it was someone else.

He left you alone in your room just you and your thoughts, or at least would be your thoughts. Your breakdown had taken away your ability to think clearly, the only thing that could really register now were your senses, the warmth of the blanket around you, the way the plush toy squished in your arms, the smell of your room, the sound of rain pattering against the window. the way the carpet felt against your legs.

Shadow quickly returned with a glass of water, a wet washcloth, an ice pack wrapped in a towel, and a box of tissues. Handing you the glass he ordered you to drink which you happily complied, the water cooled your throat and brought you some much needed hydration. He then proceeded to wipe your face with the cloth the cold water felt refreshing as he cleaned off the your face wiping away any remaining tears. He pressed the ice pack against your cheeks the cold instantly relieving the discomfort around your eyes.

You had finally gotten up the strength to reach for a tissue and clear your sinuses, taking a deep breath you began to feel a sort of calmness rush over you.

Shadow sat next to you wrapping his arm around your shoulder pulling you to lean on him. Shadow finally broke the silence.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you, you can tell me. Do it in your own time if you'd like and know that there isn't a single side of you that's too dark or terrible for me to love. I love you for all of you not just the good parts. Don't think you're burdening me with anything, I want to know your problems I want to share the pain with you. You've helped me through so much it's my turn to help you with whatever you're dealing with."

You felt relieved at Shadow's statement, knowing he wouldn't lie to you to keep you pacified. His actions spoke for themselves and they showed that he truly cared and he wanted to help in any way he could.

You weren't ready to voice your feelings just yet but you knew he would be patient with you.

You were able to manage a quiet "Thank you" for now.

"Of course my love anything for you"

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.

[callmedaleelah]

— pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i’ve never been a natural ; your parents force you to get a degree in biochemistry without knowing that you suck in this subject and that tall, lanky, blonde, and grumpy professor assistant is not helping either. so let’s the sufferings begin.

author’s notes ; no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

The first semester of university was supposed to be exciting. A fresh start, new people, and endless opportunities to make friends. But for you, the reality of university life was hitting harder than expected. You’d always been the type to light up a room with your cheerful personality, the kind of person who could strike up a conversation with anyone. Back in high school, making friends was easy. Everyone knew you as the bubbly, sunshine-like girl who could turn a gloomy day around with just a smile.

But university was different. Your class was full of students who already seemed to know each other, having gone through the same preparatory courses or coming from the same high schools. They formed tight-knit groups, and though you tried to insert yourself into conversations, your efforts were met with polite but distant smiles. You were left feeling like the outsider, constantly on the edge of every social circle, never quite fitting in.

To make matters worse, biochemistry was not your forte. You’d been pushed into this major by your parents, who had visions of you becoming a doctor or a scientist, though you had no idea what you truly wanted. Each lecture felt like a tidal wave of information, and you were drowning. The complicated formulas and scientific jargon left your head spinning, and despite your best efforts, you were struggling to keep up. You’d stay up late, poring over textbooks, trying to make sense of it all, but the material just wouldn’t stick.

In the laboratory, things weren’t much better. Practical classes were supposed to solidify your understanding, but they only highlighted how much you didn’t know. While your classmates performed experiments with ease, you fumbled with the equipment, your nerves getting the best of you. You’d accidentally knock over beakers, mix the wrong chemicals, or misread instructions. And every time, you could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, a silent judgment that you weren’t cut out for this.

It was during one of these lab sessions that you first encountered him—Kei Tsukishima, the tall, aloof senior who was assisting your professor. He was majoring in biochemistry and already in his sixth semester, which meant he was leagues ahead of you in understanding the subject. His sharp intellect was evident in the way he moved around the lab, explaining procedures with a cool, unruffled demeanor. But his tone was curt, his patience seemingly thin, especially when it came to freshmen like you.

On that particular day, you were tasked with a relatively simple experiment—preparing a buffer solution. Tsukishima had demonstrated the steps with meticulous precision, making it look effortless. But when it was your turn, your hands shook as you measured the reagents. You tried to follow his instructions, but somewhere along the way, you’d made a mistake. The solution was supposed to be clear, but yours had turned an alarming shade of pink.

Tsukishima noticed immediately. He was at your side in an instant, his tall figure looming over you as he inspected your work. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and you could feel your heart sink.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low but laced with irritation. “Didn’t you pay attention when I showed you how to do it?”

“I—I thought I did,” you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He sighed, clearly exasperated, and reached for the flask. “This is all wrong. You added the acid before the base, didn’t you? How do you expect to get the right pH like this?”

You nodded, too ashamed to speak. It was a basic mistake, one that anyone should have been able to avoid, but here you were, messing up even the simplest task.

Tsukishima didn’t hold back. “If you can’t even get this right, are you sure you’re serious about this major? Biochemistry isn’t something you can just wing. You need to actually understand what you’re doing.”

His words stung, not just because they were harsh, but because they echoed your own doubts. You didn’t know if you were serious about this major. You didn’t even know if you wanted to be here. But this was the path your parents had laid out for you, and you were determined to make them proud.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, staring down at your ruined experiment.

Tsukishima’s gaze softened, just a fraction. He handed you another flask. “Start over. And this time, pay attention.”

You nodded, feeling like a chastised child. But as you started the experiment again, Tsukishima stayed by your side, guiding you through each step. He was still gruff, still critical of every small mistake, but there was something almost reassuring about his presence. He didn’t let you off easy, but he didn’t abandon you either.

As the class ended, Tsukishima reminded everyone about the upcoming lab report. “Make sure to submit your reports in the correct format and order. Any mistakes will cost you points. And remember, the deadline is non-negotiable.”

You listened intently, determined not to mess this up. But as you worked on your report that night, the instructions blurred in your mind, and when you finally submitted it, you realized too late that you’d made another mistake.

When Tsukishima called you out on it during the next lab session, his patience was even thinner. He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked over your report. “This is wrong. Again. Are you even trying?”

“I am!” you insisted, feeling the frustration welling up inside you. “I just… I don’t get it.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked, his voice cold. “Why did you even choose this major if you’re not going to put in the effort?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the tears. You hadn’t chosen this major. It had been chosen for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that, not to him, not to anyone. Instead, you just shook your head, feeling utterly defeated.

Tsukishima must have seen something in your expression because his tone softened, just slightly. “Look, if you need help, ask for it. Don’t just submit something half-done and hope for the best. You’re not going to get by on good intentions.”

And with that, he dismissed you, leaving you feeling more conflicted than ever.

[ghostxrose]

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒆 | 𝑨𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Part One | Part Two

Summary ~ You have been doing this job for a very long time. Maybe since the dawn of time, but who knows? In all of that time, you never had a doubt or question about the way things were. That is, until now.. because you’re pretty sure that Protectors aren’t supposed to fall in love with those that they’re protecting.

Tags/Warnings ~ Fem!Guardian Angel!Reader, canon typical violence, character injury, angst, hurt, comfort, fluff, medium-slow burn because Shota is bad at feelings, more tags to come as the story develops..

Note ~ Hey, Lovelies! This is something that I've been working on for awhile, and am excited to share with you all! The idea was actually derived from a concept I had for an Original Story that I had started writing a long time ago! There's just something about characters falling in love with ethereal beings and vice versa that I love so much, lol! Anyway, enough of my rambles, enjoy the read, My Lovelies!

Your kind has many names amongst the humans; Protector, Keeper, Champion, Lifesaver, Watcher, Divine Messenger, Guardian Angel, Guardian Spirit, and so on. In the many millennia you’ve existed, you’ve never had a preferred title, just settled on the most accurate term; Protector. Label or not, you simply exist and you have one job. Something that you instinctively and unconsciously perform, no matter who you’re paired with. Your only job is to steer someone away from life-threatening danger. However, it is up to the person to either acknowledge your signs or ignore them.

You’ve never questioned why you exist, why you’ve been given your role, or who was in charge of all of this. You don’t even remember how you came to exist if you were being honest. But from time to time, you do think about some peculiarities you’ve encountered over the thousands of years you’ve been doing this. One of the peculiarities you find to be more.. odd, for lack of a better word, is that of the billions of souls swimming around out there in the universe you’ve experienced repeated pairings with one of them. Though, once again, you don’t ask questions, you just do your job.

Over the last 500 years, you’ve watched over just under a hundred different souls, and that number has only been so low because you keep getting paired with one soul in particular. He’s had a different name each lifetime that he’s lived through, and his appearance changes with each new life. But you can always recognize his soul; the colors of it, the shape of it, the feelings ebbing from it, and.. the way it pulls at yours unlike any other soul has. In this new life, he has dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin, and goes by the name Shota Aizawa.

The world that he has been born into this time intrigues you. It seems as though most humans, including Shota, are born with powers of all kinds. It fascinates and challenges you in the sense that these “Quirk-powered” humans will make your job of protecting Shota a bit harder. But despite being paired with his soul again and the impending challenge, you silently vow to do your job as best you can. Shota certainly doesn’t make things easier for you when he decides to attend a high school that helps the youth to become Heroes. You stay by his side, though, unseen to the human eye as you watch him work to become a Hero.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Let it be said that while your sole purpose is to protect those you’re paired with doesn’t mean that you are some unfeeling being. Countless times have you wished so desperately that you could provide comfort to the humans you protect. Moments when they’re overwhelmed, devastated, or grief-stricken, and all you can do is watch them break apart emotionally. Sometimes, most times, it feels like their pain is your pain. Unfortunately, now is one of those times…

You’re standing beside Shota as he looks down at a pile of rubble that has crushed one of his friends. He’s clutching his bleeding arm with a devastated and traumatized look on his face. As if by reflex, you reach out to put a hand on his shoulder, but your hand phases right through him. You whisper an apology to him even though he can’t hear it, and look at the being across from you. The ethereal glow of their body flickers and dims sporadically as they gaze down at the rubble. It’s hard for you to see the look of deep sadness and guilt on a fellow Protector’s face, especially one you’ve come to know fairly well. They look up at you and the disappointment they feel in themselves is practically palpable.

“You did well… His will to save those children just happened to be stronger than his will to pay attention to your signs… You did all that you could…” You say to them in reassurance, the ethereal echo of your voice holding a certainty to it.

“Thank you…” They say before vanishing into thin air, likely pulled to the next soul they’ll be protecting.

You look back to Shota and wish that he didn’t have to experience such pain so early on in his life. A heavy feeling weighs over you as you follow him to the ambulance that he’s being led to by paramedics. You give silent nods of acknowledgment to other Protectors when you cross their paths. You try your best to offer reassurance to dejected-looking Protectors whenever you notice them lingering. When the day is over, and Shota is curled up on a bed trying to deal with his emotions, you almost dread what the future may hold for this lifetime.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

Years pass by, and you watch Shota shape into an amazing Hero and person. You feel some relief when Shota accepts a teaching position at the same school he graduated from. You hope that maybe he would mostly stay out of trouble being a teacher versus being a Hero full-time. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that this lifetime has been really making you put in the work toward keeping Shota safe.

School year after school year, you watch Shota intimidate his students and make drastic decisions geared toward helping them realize the path they’ve chosen to pursue. It can be said that his methods are harsh, but you know that he is just trying to help them understand the realities of becoming a Hero. Oftentimes, you think back to the day he lost his friend, and it feels as though you are the only one to see his reasoning.

The day you walk into the classroom for Class 1-A behind Shota, you are interested in what he has planned for this new group of students. The year prior he expelled his entire class, which had even thrown you off a bit. As he gives his introduction, you scan the small sea of students and their Protectors. Most of the Protectors appear neutral, almost laid back for the moment, but a few catch your attention.

The Protector standing near a boy with a scar on his face seems to be wilted, their helplessness almost making their ethereal glow dim to nothing. The Protector to the left of a boy with green hair appears to be harshly glaring at the blonde boy in front of the green-haired child. Meanwhile, the spiky-haired blonde boy’s Protector seems to be exhausted, and from the aura the boy gives off, you wonder if the exhaustion is from protecting him or just observing him. Lastly, the Protector standing near the blonde boy seated closest to the door is rather.. shifty, like they’re nervous. Their gaze keeps darting around the room to look at the other Protectors, then back down to the boy they are paired with.

You understand that as children, none of the students really pose any threat to Shota, but you find that it’s still best to be on higher alert if a human’s Protector is acting strangely. Especially in this lifetime and with all of the many Quirks you’ve seen from being by Shota’s side. You’d much rather err on the side of caution than ignore a potential threat.

By the end of the first day, you’re quite surprised that Shota only expelled one student this year. The short boy seemed quite upset when he learned of his expulsion, but his Protector seemed to have slumped with relief. It made you wonder just what that Protector had observed of the boy throughout his life. Regardless, seeing the posture of the Protectors near each of the female students ease at the news of the boy’s expulsion was enough for you to agree with Shota’s decision.

The second day doesn’t go as smoothly as you or Shota had hoped. Shota wasn’t in any danger, thankfully, he just slept peacefully in the teacher’s lounge while a Hero called All Might took over the class. When Shota was awoken by his phone ringing, it was Recovery Girl informing him that one of his students was very injured during the battle training All Might was supervising. You could practically feel Shota’s worry and anger as you followed behind him as he made his way to the infirmary.

After watching Shota give All Might a stern talking-to for letting the students go that far during training, you followed him back to his classroom. You listened idly by as he announced that he would be taking the class on a trip to a facility called the USJ in a couple of days. Most of the students cheered and voiced their excitement over going on a field trip, but Shota was quick to quiet them. He made it clear to the class that it wasn’t going to be a leisurely trip, but another means of Hero training. With most of the class deflated down into more of a serious state, he dismissed them for the day.

𖤛 𖤛 𖤛

The day of the trip arrives without much fanfare, and you stay dutifully by Shota’s side as he leans back against the seat of the bus and naps. Vehicles such as buses were always an interesting environment to be in as a Protector. Looking over your shoulder at the rows of seated students, you see each of their Protectors lining the middle aisle. While your kind doesn’t really exist on the same plane of existence as humans, your ethereal bodies are comparable to what humans call ghosts, you still prefer not to be phasing in and out of a human body.

As the bus slows to a stop, Shota awakens and stands to face the class. He tells them to be on their best behavior and to focus on learning all that they can today. You make your way off of the bus with Shota leading the way and his students following behind. You and Shota walk up to the doors of the USJ, joining up with another Hero dressed in a spacesuit.

The spacesuit Hero, Thirteen, cheerfully greets the students and then begins explaining the purpose of the USJ. They get serious while explaining that there are a lot of dangerous Quirks out in the world that have the potential to be deadly before showing and explaining their own Quirk. Your gaze sweeps over the students, and you find that most of their Protectors are absentmindedly nodding and checking to see if their humans understand the warning being given.

Soon enough, Thirteen pushes the doors to the USJ open, leading Shota and his students into the facility. The students audibly marvel at the inside of the USJ and its different disaster zones. Thirteen gets into explaining what the different zones are and the unique difficulties that come with each zone. When they finish, they look to Shota and he nods at them before beginning to tell the students who would be in which zone. Shota gets interrupted by a red-haired student, their Protector pointing to something behind you and Shota. When you turn around to see what the Protector is pointing at, your intuition and protective instincts flare to max levels.

A massive portal has opened up down in the center plaza of the USJ and sketchy-looking humans have begun pouring out. You hear Shota identify them as villains and you gear yourself up for the fighting he will inevitably engage in. As expected, Shota yells for the students to stay with Thirteen and rushes into battle. You follow closely behind him, confident in his fighting abilities and quick reflexes.. But, you know that even if he isn’t aware of your existence or the parameters of your job, he does rely on you to watch his back.

Being a Hero’s Protector is no easy feat since villains have their own Protectors. Your kind have a job to do, no matter the human you are paired with. A villain’s Protector will protect them just as fiercely as a Hero’s. That said, since being Shota’s Protector in this lifetime, you’ve worked harder to become faster at alerting Shota to danger. More often than not, you can get Shota’s attention and help him to strike before a villain’s Protector can warn them.

As Shota is taking down villain after villain, you take a brief moment to look toward three unmoving villains. The one with multiple severed hands clutching his body scratches at his neck wildly as his Protector stands near him. You notice something strange about the other two near the Hand Villain, though.. While they both seem to be alive, neither of them has a Protector within sight. It’s unusual for your kind to stray very far from the human they are paired with, so not seeing a Protector right next to either villain is very abnormal.

In your momentary distraction, Shota takes down two more thugs and is rushed by the Hand Villain. Disappointment, in yourself, floods you as you watch Shota blink and his Quirk deactivate. The Hand Villain monologues as the spot where his hand is on Shota’s elbow begins to crack and flake away until the muscle underneath is showing. Shota reactivates his Quirk and breaks away from the Hand Villain, but his groans of pain echo in your mind. Berating yourself for being so careless, you stick closer to his side as more low-level thugs surround him.

The Hand Villain continues his annoying chatter as Shota, tired and worn out as he is, fights off the thugs using his good arm. His elbow looks bad, and you feel like you’ve failed him. You work harder to give him every sign and warning possible to take down the thugs relentlessly rushing him. Difficult as it is with one arm, Shota succeeds and turns to face the Hand Villain, putting you both back to back. Horror fills you along with the urgent and intense need to warn Shota, but with the state he’s in, he misses sign after sign that you send his way. He doesn’t notice the hulking beast behind him until the Hand Villain says something.

Despair like nothing you’ve ever felt before fills you as you watch the monstrous creature beat Shota down like he’s nothing but a small bug under someone’s boot. You scream, but the echoing ethereal sound only catches the attention of other Protectors around you. You flinch every time you hear the snapping of bone and cry of pain. The ethereal glow of your body dims from the feeling of failure filling you, and when the merciless creature slams Shota’s face into the ground you think only one thought…

‘Shota is going to die today…’

Falling to your knees next to Shota, you’re gaze is too focused on the growing puddle of blood on the ground to realize that the monster leaves Shota to defend the Hand Villain. Apologies spill from your lips over and over again as you continue looking at his limp and broken form. You can feel that he is dying and for some reason, it causes you immense pain. It’s a pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before with any other soul, or during any of his other lifetimes. Everything else going on near or around you becomes irrelevant as you place a hand on Shota’s head, your touch light enough to not phase through him.

You startle when you feel the touch of a hand on each of your shoulders and looking up, you find a Protector on either side of you. You also notice that three of Shota’s students, the green-haired boy, the girl with the frog Quirk, and the boy with the tape Quirk, are carefully lifting him. The three students’ Protectors help you up off of your knees and walk with you when the students start moving toward the entrance of the USJ.

“Fret not, he may still have a chance…”

“You did all that you could…”

“His will was to protect those students, and you helped him achieve that…”

The echoing ethereal tones of the three Protectors walking with you fill your ears, but you find it difficult to take comfort in their words. Words that you’ve said to so many others before. Words that you’ve found comfort within before when you were feeling far less pain than you are right now. You can’t find it in yourself to respond to the other Protectors, so you just continue to walk in solemn silence.

At some point, the green-haired boy and his Protector break away to head back to the fight, leaving the other two students to carry Shota to the entrance. When they finally get up the steps and rejoin the small group of other students, they carefully lay Shota’s body down next to Thirteen who also seems to be injured greatly. You gaze down at Shota numbly, unable to comprehend why you feel so.. broken.

“What the hell is going on..?”

You startle as a sudden presence from beside you speaks. Recognizing the voice, your head whips to the side in complete shock. Standing there right next to you is Shota, looking far more translucent than he usually does. You just stare at him in shock and disbelief, your mouth agape and eyes blinking owlishly.

“Who the hell are you? Is this some kind of Quirk? Are you one of the villains?” Shota asks, his tone is demanding and quite confused, not that you blame him.

“Y-you.. you can see me?…” You ask, disbelief and confusion coloring your ethereal voice. Now, at this moment, in this lifetime, you have so many questions as you also wonder what the hell is going on.

“Uhm.. yeah. I can see you.” Shota says with uncharacteristic uncertainty. Apparently deeming you non-threatening, his posture deflates into resignation as his gaze sweeps across his students, “So.. are you here to take me wherever it is dead people go?”

Sadness creeps back into you and you look back down at his broken body, shaking your head, “No, I.. I only protect… Escorting the dead is not part of the job…”

“Protect?” Shota questions quietly as he looks back at you. “What, like a.. Guardian Angel?” The skeptical tone in Shota’s voice makes the corners of your mouth tick up ever so slightly because even though he is quite literally dying, of course, he is trying to be rational right now.

You meet his eyes with a slightly amused look in yours, “You humans have many names for my kind, ‘Guardian Angel’ is one of them… Many are like me; uncaring of what we are called, just here to do our job…”

Shota still looks skeptical, but he nods his head, “Does this normally happen when a person dies? We get to meet our.. Guardian Angels before we move onto whatever afterlife is out there?”

You shake your head and look back down at his body, “This has never happened to me before… We are not meant to be seen by humans, dead or alive.. and technically, you are not dead… Your body is struggling, but you are still alive…”

You pause for a moment as the weight of your failure falls back over your shoulders, almost tenfold. You speak again before Shota has the chance, your tone heavy with sadness, “I am so sorry, Shota… I should have done more to keep you safe… It is my fault that you are in this position… I failed you…”

Silence hangs between you both as you watch paramedics move Shota’s body onto a stretcher. They spend a few moments wrapping his injuries with makeshift bandages and attaching various equipment to him. When they begin moving him to an ambulance, you step forward to follow but are stopped when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder. It’s different than the cold feeling of another Protector’s touch and stops you in your tracks. You turn slightly, your wide eyes meeting Shota’s uncharacteristically soft ones.

“You.. I’d like to think that you did your best to protect me, and whatever happens to me.. just know that I don’t blame you.” Shota’s gentle tone catches you off guard and also strikes something deep within you. The most you can muster is a shaky nod before you both begin to head for the ambulance his body was taken to.

Divider Credit ~ @cafekitsune

[fe-fictions]

Happy new year!!! 🥳 could I request a prompt with Dimitri / Claude where they surprise Byleth for the new year? I imagine their post game where Byleth is separated from them for a while bc of their respective duties so a surprise reunion would be super cute 🥹

(This was so much fun to write ;; A ;; )

Claude: Running a country as a new king was no joke, though becoming the religious head of an entire continent (with no experience) wasn’t any easier. It was only natural that when you first started talking about what to do, and what the expectations would be in your new roles, it would mean some distance was required.

What you didn’t realize was that “little distance” thing turned into a long-term absence. Of course, letters were exchanged every day; and the timing of the responses varied depending on the carrier and the weather.

But you were in constant contact, calways wishing to see one another and longing for the separation to reach its end.

It felt more like you were widowed for six months, conversing with a  very charming ghost.

“Seteth…what are the possibilities for taking a sabbatical this year?”

You could feel the prime minister’s hackles raise at the very thought.

“It is the same as I told you last autumn, Archbishop; it’s simply not possible with your current position.”

‘But we’ve been working non-stop since the ceremony- surely we can spare a few days' rest.”

“Not with the relations between kingdoms still in such a dire state. If we were to step away now, and they were to find out, the people would become even more upset. They would feel as though we are trivializing their very lives.”

“I don't want that.” You admitted, looking down at the towering mess of papers on your desk. “But...people are allowed to have days of rest.”

“They are, indeed.” Seteth agreed, “However, we must bear in mind that we are not just any ‘people’. Our obligations transcend those whom we serve.”

It did very little to invigorate you or ease your stress. If anything, Seteth was simply piling them on higher and at a much faster pace. He was not the best at rousing speeches.

“Still…we’ve been working non-stop like this for months…surely we’ll have to slow down and rest so as not to falter later?”

“I do see your point, but I believe we are far from in need of such relief. After all, we bear the expectations of all Fodlan on our shoulders; you moreso, as both a queen and the Archbishop. I would argue that it is more necessary that we continue to push without wasting a single moment.”

“I would argue the opposite…” You mumbled, and the dragon-eared man was polite enough not to acknowledge it. After all, there was a particular reason why he was laying on the pressure so thick.

He wouldn’t have agreed to do so without there being a much desired reward waiting for you. You’d been working harder than most to pull Fodlan back from the struggles of war, and the rebuilding was being overseen in as many areas with the greatest detail you could bring to the table.

You hadn’t heard it yet; it would be a few minutes more.

“Milady, I empathize with your argument, but we must make sure not to allow such temptations that follow a ‘slowdown’, so to speak. It may be difficult for you to ever regain your vigor and our work will suffer for it!”

“Seteth, please…” You groaned, your head hitting the stack of paper before you. There was a good chance the ink hadn’t dried yet, but that was the least of your worries.

The minister worked hard to suppress his smile. Instead he continued to prattle on and on about the importance of diligence, duty, discipline, and several other responsible “d” words, until you heard a shift, outside.

As a matter of fact, you heard the sound of people gathering just below your office, towards the front gates.

And following that rabble was…a wyvern’s wingbeat.

You sat up from the papers, eyes narrowed. There weren’t any wyvern riders that were scheduled to be patrolling this time of day. 

And the only person who could possibly be riding in and exciting everyone would be-

“Claude?”

Seteth grinned, watching the hope spark in your eyes. You hurried from your desk, pulling the balcony doors back.

The shimmering white scales of his beloved wyvern reflected the sunlight right into your eyes. But you knew that roar, and you could recognize that gorgeous, golden cape from a mile away.

With a sharp gasp you turned on your heel and burst from the room. The stairs were too far-- no, the front gate was-! You had to move as quickly as possible.

That man had been gone for so long. You hadn’t seen each other in ages, but now he was flying right up to the monastery out of the blue!

You wracked your brain, trying to think if he’d referenced coming to visit you in any of his letters. Though perhaps it was easier said than done, as the closer you got to the front doors, the harder it was to think of anything other than him.

Mercifully, you did not have to wait until you were outside. The king of Almyra had already made his way inside the building. He was halfway across the great hall, speaking with Hilda about something completely inconsequential.

Well, inconsequential to you. Because all that mattered was the instant your eyes locked, and you could feel the joy build in your chest.

“Claude!!”

The Archbishop’s voice raising was already surprising, but to see her running towards her husband, decorum be damned, was a stunning sight for any bystander.

Claude’s face lit up at the sight of you, his arms spread wide to accept you.

“Byleth!!” Your name was a laugh on his lips; the very sound of his voice made your heart soar. You closed the distance and all but leapt into his arms.

His mere touch was enough to bring tears to your eyes. His scent, his laughter, his…his everything…it overwhelmed your senses in the best of ways.

“I’m home, By.” 

“Welcome back,” Your voice was muffled against his neck, his embrace tight and wanting,  with zero intention of letting you go. “I missed you so much…!”

“I  missed you too. You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you.” He murmured, peppering kisses into your hair between his breaths of laughter.

“I didn’t have a clue- but when did you say you were coming?? I can’t remember reading a single word about you visiting.” You gathered yourself enough to ask, pulling back to look up at your husband.

He grinned at you,  squeezing your waist. “That’s because it was a surprise. I cleared it with Seteth about a month ago; you and I are going to take a nice, long break from all this intercontinental repair.”

It was hard to balance your desire to take in every detail of his face and simply kissing him senseless.

“Really?”

“Of course; I’ve been waiting for ages because I know how badly you’ve wanted to get away. You’ve been talking about it in your letters for the last…three months, I think.” 

“I suppose I’m not as subtle when I’m writing to you.” You smiled sheepishly, “I would love to take a vacation with you, my love.”

“Gods, I’ve been waiting to hear that for so long.” He sighed, capturing your lips in a much needed kiss. You held his face in your hands, relishing the scruff along his jaw and the warmth of his skin.

“Hear what?” You whispered against his lips, your hands shifting from his cheeks to the collar of his tunic, tugging him closer. Your bodies were practically pressed against each other; you couldn’t have gotten closer if you wanted to.

“To hear you call me ‘my love’. I haven’t heard it in so long…I’m afraid your written word doesn’t hold a candle to the sweetness of your voice.”

“You flatter me.” You blushed, kissing the beaming smile he wore with warm reverence. “Shall we  have a proper reunion upstairs? I’d love to hear all about these plans you have for our vacation, but I think we both have some more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, darling.” Claude chuckled, and swept you up into his arms, carrying you down the corridor that had mercifully been emptied at some point during your touching reunion.

You were sure the rumors were swirling around the monastery from the bystanders who hadn’t escaped quickly enough, but it was the last thing on your mind.

After all, your sweet husband was back home in your arms…and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Especially after such a punishing several months’ work without him.

You peeked around the corner, making sure no one was nearby while he strode towards the stairs with a particular skip in his step.

“I’ve been waiting to say this for a while, but…”

“Say whatever’s on  your mind; I’ve been dying to hear it for ages.”

You leaned up to his ear, whispering those longing words.

“Welcome home, Khalid.” 

He nearly tripped up the stairs and took you tumbling with him. When he steadied himself, he pressed his forehead to yours, his whole face flushed.

“If you’re not gonna fight fair, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences, Teach.” He grumbled, making you laugh. You kissed his nose, squeezing your arms around his shoulders.

“I haven’t been able to say your name in so long either, you know…I wanted to give you a proper welcome.”

His grin turned mischievous, hoisting you back up and starting up the steps with renewed vigor.

“Don’t you worry about that- we’re about to have the greatest reunion of all time! And an even better vacation after that, might I add.”

You didn’t get a chance to ask him what the plans were until several hours later. But you weren't particularly bothered by it. 

Having your Khalid beside you again was everything you could have asked for, and more.

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

Dimitri: He’d gotten the worried letter from Prime Minister Seteth about three days ago. He was already deeply depressed because he hadn’t seen you in such a long time.

It was incredibly difficult, how you were trying so hard and working to get everything in order for the greater continent of Fodlan. 

You were working from the monastery, and had remained there long after the two of you were crowned as the king and queen of Faerghus.

It was deeply upsetting to have spent the first several months of your marriage apart. But it was nothing that heartfelt letters that were practically 300-page journals between each of you.

So when he received a much more brief letter with Seteth’s seal on it instead of the expected loving message from his wife, Dimitri was concerned.

When he read its contents, he was consumed with worry. 

“King Dimitri, it is with deep concern that I write to you regarding your wife, the Archbishop of Fodlan. I am afraid she has become obsessed with work to the point that she cannot seem to remove herself from it. 

The few times I was able to ascertain the reason behind this change in behavior is due to her separation from her spouse. I believe it would be prudent to schedule a visit to the monastery immediately. I fear she has stopped taking care of herself; her eating and sleeping habits have become practically non-existent. 

Please write with ideal dates and times that you would be able to join us. We anticipate a swift response, milord.”

Dimitri had the troops rallied and the Blue Lions en route to the monastery without a second more hesitation. He sent a pegasus knight ahead to relay the information as quickly as possible.

But there was a little more time to waste! His wife was neglecting her well-being, and even though he had no idea how he was supposed to fix it, he knew that he missed her just as terribly and wanted to do anything in his power to make everything better.

He galloped through the forests of Fodlan, not slowing down even in the face of bandits or dangerous weather. 

With the help of the Lions and their unwavering support for the royal couple, the valiant group turned what was typically a weeks’ sojourn to the central mountain range into a four day journey, instead.

And as soon as they were there, Dimitri all but ripped the front gates from their ancient, unmoving hinges.

There was no time to waste. His Beloved needed him!

“King Dimitri has arrived!” The gatekeeper managed to squawk out, sending the passersby into a confused frenzy of excitement and panic. What in the world was the Archbishop’s husband doing here, now??

Dimitri did not bother to socialize or engage with anyone outside of the green-haired man hurrying to meet him, opening the massive old doors that led into the main hall.

“Thank Sothis you arrived so quickly. I just received word from the envoy you sent hardly a day ago; it is a miracle you were able to travel with such swiftness!”

“And not a moment too late, I hope. Where is my wife?” Dimitri asked, breathless from his endless onslaught to visit his dearest.

Seteth motioned towards the stairwell. “She is locked in her office, as always. I fear it has been difficult to access her, even as her right hand. She is deeply troubled by your absence, milord. More So than even she realizes.”

“It saddens me to learn this…but I will do everything in my power to help Byleth in any way I can.” He spoke a solemn promise, striding to the steps and making his way to your office.

A swirl of memories, sweet and bitter, filled his mind. It had been so long since he’d seen the monastery, let alone restored to most of its former glory. 

It was not his favorite place to be, and in spite of all the good things that happened there, he would not lose any sleep over the thought of leaving it behind permanently.

Especially if his having to rule the kingdom while you languished in the ancient halls could cause such a panic.

He hesitated at the door of your office, finding it was indeed locked when he tried to turn the knob. He knocked on the old oak once, twice, three times…but you did not answer.

So he opted to pound on the door, instead.

“Byleth!! Byleth, my love…are you in there? Can you hear me??” His fist hit the door again, with more urgency. There was an indent starting to form where he struck the wood.

There was no answer. He grit his teeth, hitting the door harder.

“It’s me, Dimitri! Open the door- everyone is worried about you! You must-” His hand went straight through the wood, and not a moment too soon.

The punctured hole, while embarrassing, did provide immediate access to the door knob on the other side.

Dimitri dismissed the damage done and opened the door, swinging it into the wall with another crack that likely destroyed the structural integrity of the poor thing.

The sound of wood splintering was enough to get your attention, however. You had been slumped over your arm at your desk, a quill halfway falling out of your hand when the sudden eruption of noise startled you awake.

Your eyes were wild with exhaustion and confusion, only to find a large, black and blonde blob storming towards you.

“Beloved!!”

You gasped at the sound of Dimitri’s voice. That  couldn’t be right, he was far away, back home in Faerghus…his last correspondence with you had been only a week ago.

This was surely a figment of your over exhausted imagination, right?

“D…Dima?” 

“Thank goodness, you’re at least conscious.” He exhaled heavily, rushing around the side of the desk so that he might place his hands on your shoulders. “I was knocking at your door and calling for you- did you truly not hear me?”

“Dima…w-what are you doing here?”

“Dammit, your skin is so pale. The shadows under your eyes- and you’re clearly underfed! Byleth, what has happened to you? How could this have happened?”

“I…” You trailed off, looking down at your hands which trembled in your lap. Dimitri followed your gaze, feeling his heart twist in his chest.

“Nevermind. You're in dire need of rest, Beloved. I will take you to our quarters immediately. When you wake up, I will have some food ready and waiting.”

“But…but Dima, how did you-?” 

“I received an urgent message from Prime Minister Seteth.” He explained simply, taking you up from your seat and carrying you from the office. “He said that you were neglecting your health, and it is quite clear to me that is the case.”

“W-wait, you don’t have to carry me, Dimitri, I-”

“I will not risk injury because you have not been taking care of yourself. I will see to it that you are well rested and well fed before you’re ready to have a conversation about your health. Am I clear?”

You fell silent, realizing that the firm yet gentle touch was indeed quite real. That your husband had arrived from across the land to come to your aid.

Perhaps you were in worse shape than you first thought.

Dimitri took your silence as a sign that you either conceded defeat, were falling asleep, or both. Regardless, you weren’t far from your bedroom.

The attendants and knights who were anywhere nearby as the king crossed the long corridors were quick to scatter, or politely avert their eyes as he tended to you.

With far greater care than when he’d “opened” your office door, he let himself into the Archbishop’s quarters and made sure to fasten the lock as well.

The world shifted around you, and you were suddenly in the soft embrace of your bed. Gods, how long has it been since you were lying there, of all places? 

Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed, taking your ankles up and resting your feet in his lap. He began to undo the laces on your shoes, handling you as though you were glass (a technique ingrained in him since he was little).

“Dima, you don’t have to do all this…”

“You need to rest, Beloved, and I have many, many months of tending to you that I must make up for. Please, allow me to do this much.”

You hummed softly, letting him finish his work on your shoes. Then he prompted you to sit up, slipping the coat from your shoulders and shifting the pillows so that you could recline far more comfortably.

His hand cradled your head, guiding you back down so that you laid fully across the bed. 

The covers weren’t drawn over you, though. Instead, Dimitri unclasped his heavy, fur-laden cloak, and draped it over you.

The overwhelming comfort at being surrounded by his scent nearly brought tears to your eyes. This was indeed your Dimitri. Not a figment of your imagination, this time.

You drew the furry cape closer to your face, nuzzling against the fabric with a soft sniffle.

Dimitri’s smile was sad, but the tension that had wracked his body seemed to have eased at the sight of you.

“Please, rest, my dearest. I will have food prepared and waiting for you by the time you are better.”

“Will you stay with me?” You whispered, as if the pull of sleep wasn’t already  taking hold.

Dimitri laughed softly, carding a hand through his hair. 

“I am still in full regalia, my love. I fear I will be a poor bedfellow.”

“Just until I’m asleep.” You insisted, “I…I missed you so much.”

As if he could say no to that.

Dimitri walked over to his side of the bed,   careful in joining you so that he didn’t dip the mattress and jostle you out of your far too comfortable position.

He propped himself up on one elbow, facing you on his side so that you might have full access to him.

And take advantage, you did. Dimitri flushed when you shifted over, burying your face in his chest and curling your fingers into his tunic. The soft clinking of all the metal bits and pieces didn’t seem to bother you. He wasn’t in his armor, but the formal layers of Faerghus’ royal uniform did not make for excellent nightwear.

The queen did not seem to mind, however.

“I’m so happy you’re here…”” You mumbled into his chest, feeling strong arms wrap wholly around you, drawing you in as close as he could.

“I have longed for you, terribly, in the time we have been apart. I could not bear to be away from you any longer when Seteth sent for me.”

“I must remember to thank him for his wisdom…I may very well have wasted away had he not asked you to come. It…felt so hard, going through all this work without you by my side.”

“It was no more joyful in Faerghus, I’m afraid. Ruling as king feels cold and empty without you there, right alongside me.” 

You nodded into his heartbeat, melting when his fingers worked through your hair.

There was no way you’d stay up a moment longer.

“But all that matters is we’re together now. And once we have you full and smiling again, I believe we ought to make plans to visit the countryside. The snow is glistening this time of year, up in the northern mountains…I can finally introduce you to the rarer parts of our home.”

“I would…love to…” You yawned,    wide and obvious.

Dimitri bit his tongue to keep from fawning. You were too cute when you weren't even trying.

“ Please rest, Beloved. I swear I’ll be right here when you wake. I will not leave your side again.”

“Thank you for this…and…thank you for coming… I'm so happy you love me so much.”

“As am I.” He kissed your forehead, squeezing you gently. “I have been yearning to see you for far too long. To hold you in my arms, even in less ideal circumstances…I could be any happier.”

“I love you, Dima.”

“I love you, too.” He beamed, before gingerly tapping his forehead to yours. “Now rest. Sleep. I beg of you.”

You smiled softly. Perhaps Dimitri was right; you were indeed long overdue for a good nap.

It wouldn’t be until seven hours later, well into the nighttime, that you came back around.

 But Dimitri was ready and waiting, a beautiful meal set aside on the nightstand and waiting to be enjoyed by the royal couple.

And of course it was immediately paid for by a mess of urgent kisses from wife to husband, wrapping your arms around him and rolling to lay atop him, your hands happily pressed to his chest.

How you missed that strong, thundering heartbeat.

The food would have to wait, unfortunately;  you both had much more pressing matters to tend to. 

Especially for the next seven days, as prescribed by the monastery clerics to prevent further burnout.

While you were certain Dimitri had some influence in this decision (ie, nearly all), you couldn’t help but relish every single second you got to spend, alone and warm with your fiercely loyal lion.

[knightfcll]

beckoning scorch

gojo x reader (primarily), 0.9k

content notes: gender neutral reader, suggestive but not explicit touching, reader is a sorcerer and described as reckless multiple times, gojo is highkey just feelin y'all up, no concept of personal space here, implied nanami x reader in the sense of unspoken and unrequired (or is it oooooh oooh intrigue) feelings, though their relationship is outwardly antagonistic

The curse dies in a storm of fire and smoke. You stagger in the aftermath. Nanami is at your side instantly, with a steady and furrowed brow. The ringing in your ears is a miserable, piercing shriek, but it covers the sound of Nanami's chastising.

The ride back is quiet, other than the occasional bit of radio static. Nanami keeps it tuned to the same station, no matter where he's driving, during business hours. You're in too much pain to bother making fun of him this time.

Nanami walks you inside when you arrive. His hand doesn't leave your elbow until you're sitting down in the infirmary, when he shuffles off to go look for Shoko. The pain forces you to start rifling around for a cold compress.

It takes you what feels like forever to find the compress, reminding you again that medics aren’t always the most organized people. A few rhythmic taps at the door pull you from your thoughts. You’re about to call out that Shoko isn’t in yet when it opens and you find Gojo grinning before you. Your heart skips.

Dumbfounded, you can only shake his hand as he enters. It’s a loose thing, a not too firm noncommittal grip that doesn’t leave you wincing but does make you wonder if you’d even touched him at all.

“Nice work out there.”

Praise from Satoru Gojo is a thing some sorcerers would kill for, the way he’s worshipped. You're not as weak in the knees about it, present circumstances notwithstanding.

You press the compress tighter to your knee and mumble a weak thanks.

“Let me hold that.” Suddenly, Gojo slips his hand under yours, keeping pressure with seemingly far less effort than you had needed. He’s giving you an easy smile when you look at him, one of those bastard grins Nanami makes fun of loud enough for the students to hear.

You can’t see his eyes. He’s still wearing his protective shades and his once wild hair now hangs loosely over his forehead. Allegedly, they’re a rather brilliant blue.

“Say,” Gojo starts, experimentally stretching a finger past the barrier of the compress, just barely hovering over the raised hairs on your leg, “Nanami's gone off to manage some particulars, yeah? He gonna mind if I steal you for a bit?"

He smells nice; not strong, it’s no cologne you recognize, but something clean. Undoubtedly…pure.

“Kento doesn’t care what I do.”

Gojo clicks his teeth. “I don’t think that’s true.” He presses harder now, enough that you can start to feel a freeze deep in your skin.

Gojo slips his hand away and begins tending to the rest of you. He’s very physical, when he’s allowed to be. He glides over faded scars and fresh scrapes. Some of them still hurt, even when his smooth fingertips just barely graze you.

“He doesn't. And if he did, it's because I make it harder for him to clock out on time.”

“Of course, of course."

You don't understand what Gojo thinks he's getting at. Nanami does not like you. He wears his heart on his sleeve and never pulls his punches, especially where you're concerned. Telling you about his day before ripping into you for your carelessness is just how he is.

Gojo brushes a sore spot at your back and you gasp, lurching forward into his waiting embrace. He soothes you, rubbing gently this time, like a big dog who’s forgotten his own strength. Or, is it you that’s become forgetful?

“Sorry, sorry. Bad bruise?”

“It’s fine. I should have let it heal more before going out today.”

You feel the hum in Gojo’s chest before you hear it, cheek flush against his chest. You shouldn’t be able to hear his heartbeat like this, pressed up against him like an eavesdropping child.

“You’re reckless, aren’t you?”

You’ve been told that. Shoko swears you’re trying to make her life harder. Nanami…he’s as blunt with you as anyone else, but your carelessness seems to be the one thing that makes him truly angry.

“I’m a sorcerer,” you say, settling in to Gojo’s touch. He’s thumbing over a bruise at your waist. “Not really easy to be safe.”

Gojo laughs, leaning closer. He takes a deep breath just as his nose brushes your skin. “I guess not.” Gojo does not know danger as you have. Guessing is the only thing he can do.

The room falls silent. He makes a show of bandaging a scrape by your elbow, eyeing it like he’s a doctor performing a difficult surgery and not just making cartoonishly slow movements as he covers it. You don’t appreciate how much space he takes until he steps back to admire his handiwork. He peels off of you like a second skin.

“Right, that should do it. Now,” Gojo straightens his back and pushes up imaginary glasses, “I prescribe you lots of rest and ice pops. Don’t come back.”

“Doctors don’t just say it like that.”

Gojo laughs, a full body thing that has him doubling over and dropping his skit. He thinks he’s funny. Nanami’s right about that.

“Ah, maybe they should.”

He slinks out the same way he came in, shifting again from the solid rock of a man you expect to the space invading serpent he is. You hear him chatting further down the hall; Nanami’s in his clutches, now, from the sound of Gojo’s sighs.

His scent still lingers in the air. Tentatively, you pull the collar of your shirt and inhale. Dirt and grass, mostly, with the faintest hint of clean laundry. Fresh linens, rarely stained or shredded, even in the field.

For once, you’d like to see him bruise.

[semisutopia]

𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵

abed x fem!reader

“guys we have to do something. y/n hasn’t been in any anthropology classes and we haven’t seen her all week”, britta started the study group’s discussion.

shirley and annie both nodded their heads in vigorous agreement while troy, pierce, and jeff looked at each other in questioning. “what can we even do though? it’s not like we can just go to her dorm and talk to her”, troy said.

“not true, i’ve been to her dorm. i know where it is”, annie retaliated. “but does that really matter? maybe she doesn’t want to talk to us. you ever think about that?”, jeff said with his legs on the table.

“why wouldn’t she want to?”, shirley asked. “maybe she’s gotten sick of us”, annie said with a frown. “there’s no way that could happen. she’s told me all about her high school 'friends'. she loves our company”, britta replied.

“abed, sweetie, you’ve been really quiet. everything alright?”, shirley noticed him being nonverbal. everyone turned their heads to the eighteen-year-old.

“britta’s right. y/n wouldn’t get sick of us. she keeps talking about how happy she is to have us. that’s an unlikely situation”, abed stated. “yeah..but aren’t you concerned that we haven’t seen her in a whole week?”, britta asked.

abed simply shrugged and said, “yes but we can’t control her. jeff’s the dad. controlling is his job”.

suddenly, a gasp emerged from jeff’s mouth. “she’s sleeping with someone”, he stated his revelation.

“what drew you to that conclusion?”, britta asked.

“think about it right. y/n's not the type of person to ditch her friends at all. especially since we have such a significance in her life. the only explanation for her avoiding us is embarrassment. she doesn’t want us to know she’s yknow”, he make the hand gesture that caused everyone else to roll their eyes.

“okay i vote we go to her dorm and ask her ourselves and find out definitively”, britta paused and glared at jeff, “that y/n is not sleeping with anyone”. with that, they all set off for y/n's dorm.

—————

britta knocked on y/n's door only for her to answer after a full minute. she opened the door and looked panicked. “aha! quick, check her dorm for someone!”, jeff instructed and troy and pierce followed suit.

in the midst of them checking her closet, desk, and under her bed, y/n was looking at no one in particular and staring at the floor, fiddling with her fingers.

“what the hell are you doing?!”, she asked. “we know you’re sleeping with someone missy!”, pierce explained. “what the fuck? i’m not sleeping with anyone. and STOP MESSING UP MY ROOM”, she pulled troy back by the shoulder.

the three men stopped and now it was the girls’ turn to be questionable. “y/n, where have you been? you’ve missed every anthropology class since the semester began”, annie said.

“are you really not sleeping with anyone, y/n? because if you are…that’s…real good for you. yknow getting yourself going. good for you, girl”, shirley also said.

it was important to note that since entering her dorm, abed had not taken his gaze off of y/n. in contrast, she was doing her best to not look at him at all.

y/n sighed and replied, “no, shirley i have not been sleeping with anyone. i’ve just been taking early morning classes to manage my time better. and anthropology is so useless now. literally, nothing happens”.

“yeah but it still counts for credit. you’re lucky duncan has been drunk every class and doesn’t notice your absence. but what about coming to the library?”, britta asked.

y/n started fiddling more and breathing started becoming harder for her. “um- uh- i just didn’t feel like it”. “come on y/n. you can tell us. we’re your best friends”, annie said, trying to encourage her best friend.

“because i like abed okay?!”, y/n blurted quietly. the room went quiet.

“uh- um- yeah i- sorry abed. but yeah i like you”, she started, still not looking up at him. “i get really panicked around you and so i’ve been avoiding you and the library and anthropology classes because i have romantic feelings for—“, y/n's words got cut short as abed lifted her face up and pressed a kiss to her lips.

a gasp escaped annie as britta and troy fist bumped in the back. shirley placed her hands on her chest and smiled, wholeheartedly at the scene. after a few seconds, abed pulled away. “uh w-why’d you do that?”, y/n questioned, still on her toes from the kiss.

“i have romantic feelings for you too. i thought they were obvious”, abed admitted. “weren’t they obvious?”, he looked back at jeff who just shrugged.

“well at least now, she’s gonna be sleeping with someone” “jeff!”, britta said and hit him in the arm.

all rights go to @semisutopia on tumblr. please don't copy or plagiarise my work. that's really lame of you.

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the heart | Chapter 15

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

WARNING: 18+, MATURE CONTENT

Chapter 15

"Is that you, Khushi?" Khushi was out to buy some fruits from the farmer's market when the voice startled her. Turning around, she found Lavanya Kashyap and two other ladies she didn't remember the names of, all dressed to the nines. Khushi was surprised to find them in this neighborhood.

"You don't mind me calling you Khushi, do you? We are friends, after all," Lavanya said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"No, it's okay, Ms. Kashyap. What are you doing in this area? I suppose you don't live around here," Khushi replied, trying to keep her tone polite despite the unease she felt.

"Oh, actually, we have a farmhouse not far from here. Didn't Arnav tell you that? We spent last summer at that farmhouse," Lavanya said smugly, watching Khushi's discomfort become visible on her face.

"Oh, I didn't know that." Khush tried to mask her surprise and discomfort with a polite smile.

Giving Khushi a triumphant smile, Lavanya continued, "Come, Khushi, join us for a coffee. There's a coffee shop nearby that sells excellent coffee."

"I have to decline. I need to go home."

"Oh, Khushi, come on. Just one cup," Lavanya insisted, her tone a mix of persuasion and challenge.

Khushi couldn't deny any further and went with them. In the coffee shop, Lavanya jumped in to order.

"Let me order the coffee for you. It's actually Arnav's favorite. Last summer, we used to come here all the time."

Trying to keep her uneasiness at bay, Khushi only nodded her head. While they were sipping coffee, Lavanya started talking about useless town rumors, in which Khushi had no interest whatsoever. She got lost in her thoughts.

Why is Lavanya always trying to hint at a more intimate relationship between her and Arnav? But Arnav didn't say anything like that. She had to ask Arnav for more details, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, Lavanya informed them that she was going to use the powder room, and Khushi noticed a limp in her right leg that wasn't there at the party. When Lavanya came back, Khushi asked her, "What happened to your leg?"

"Oh, I accidentally cut my thigh on a loose nail at our dining table."

"Oh, poor thing, now you'll have an ugly scar there. It's such a nasty cut," one of the girls said sympathetically.

Lavanya's eyes shone with something Khushi couldn't quite recognize. With an air of confidence, Lavanya said, "Oh Pam, at least I'm glad that now I'll have a scar identical to Arnav's, even if his is on the left thigh."

Khushi's ear started ringing, her face flushing as she looked at Lavanya. Her mind brought up a flashback.

Her hand shot out to grip his thigh as he sat on his knees. His hands held her by the waist while she hooked her legs across his hips. In the throes of passion, she liked to keep her hand on that particular thigh and gently caressed the raised scar residing there with her thumb, in a futile attempt to keep herself grounded, while he drove into her deeper and harder.

Khushi cleared her throat and tried her hardest to gather her composure.

"What are you trying to achieve, Lavanya, by telling me all of this about Arnav? If anything happened between you two, it's in the past. It doesn't matter anymore," Khushi said firmly, trying to assert her boundaries.

"Nothing. Just trying to break your illusion that you think you can keep a man like Arnav."

"What do you mean?"

"If you think you can hold onto a man like Arnav for your whole life, you're only fooling yourself. Come on, think, Khushi. Why did he marry you? He probably befriended you first. But you weren't someone he could sleep with, without marrying you, right? So, he did and brought you here to London, away from your family, so that he can do anything he wants. Do you really think he's planning to go to India and settle down with you there? Huh?..... You're only fooling yourself."

"At first, I really thought you might be his friend and knew him quite well. If that's your opinion of him, you didn't know him at all." She got up and never looked back at them. She went straight home and promised herself never to think about Lavanya and her lies again.

But that was easier said than done. To distract herself, she prepared Arnav's favorite dishes, which brought a huge smile to his tired face. However, Khushi's smile vanished when he said, 'We need to stay here for six more months, Khushi.''

"Why?"

"Mr. Kashyup got an important case, and he wants me to assist him with it. It's a huge opportunity, Khushi. It will end in more or less six months. Then we will go to India, okay?" Arnav told her, squeezing her hand.

But Khushi's mind drifted to Lavanya's words despite her unwillingness. She kept wondering if Arnav was stalling, if Lavanya was right. She shook herself free of that thought. She kept chanting in her overthinking mind 'I love him and he loves me.' over and over again.

"Hey, do you want to attend tomorrow's party?"

"No, these parties are boring. And you'll be working anyway."

"Hmm". Arnav chuckled.

"Will Ms.Kashyap be there?" Arnav caught the jealousy in her voice. "You've never told me about the nature of your friendship with her," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't, because there's nothing to tell," Arnav laughed, then added, "By the way, you look really cute when you're jealous," he said teasingly.

"I am not jealous. "

"Yeah, of course not."

Of course, she was jealous, insecure, and confused. Her mind was a tumultuous storm of emotions. Doubt gnawed at her heart like a relentless predator, threatening to tear apart her foundations of trust.

For a couple of days, Arnav was tense and in a terribly foul mood. She asked him about it, but he didn't say anything specific. One Sunday, when the doorbell rang, Khushi opened it to reveal a beautiful woman, probably in her late twenties.

"How can I help you?" Khushi asked politely.

"Oh, hello, does Arnav Singh Raizada live here? I want to talk to him," the lady said pleasantly.

Arnav noticed their interaction and approached them.

"Khushi, please go inside. I'll take it from here," Arnav said gently.

Dumbfounded, Khushi did as she was told without any objection, but their voices kept coming back to her ears.

"How dare you come to my house? Leave now," Arnav said in a hushed voice.

"Please, Arnav, just listen to me this one time. I won't disturb you after that," she pleaded.

"That's 'Mr.Raizada' to you and I don't want to talk to you. Stop following me," Arnav insisted firmly. "I don't want be rude but I will if you don't listen to me. Don't create a scene here."

After coming inside, when she asked him about it, he simply ignored the topic, dismissing it as unimportant.

Then a very unusual thing happened. One day, as she was returning from the market, Khushi saw Arnav coming out of a house. He was looking down and didn't notice her. When Khushi turned to look at the house, she saw the lady standing at the door, looking at Arnav with sad eyes. Khushi's heart twisted, foreseeing an impending doom.

Arnav was very quiet during dinner, lost in thought. Any attempt at conversation was futile. Seeing her concerned expression, he hugged her tightly, kissed her, and promised to explain what was bothering him in a couple of days. Khushi simply nodded in response.

But Khushi, consumed by curiosity, went to the house she had seen Arnav leaving the previous day. Unable to contain her intrigue, she asked the nearby vendor whose house it was.

"Oh, that's Mrs. Raizada's house. Mrs. Raizada and her daughter live there," the woman continued, her voice tinged with sympathy. "Oh, poor lady, her husband left her, and then she had to raise that child all by herself... Ma'am, are you alright?"

she struggled to breathe amid the torrent of emotions flooding her. She fought to control herself as she rushed home and locked herself in their room. They say when the pain is too much to bear, you can't even cry; your heart turns to stone. As Khushi laid face down on the floor, her cheek pressed against the cold wood, she felt the anguish permeate every fibre of her being. Every inch of her body trembled with the anguish of realization—the betrayal by the man she loved, the deception hidden behind smiles and promises.

Khushi laid frozen, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. What she had seen felt like a cruel betrayal, yet her foolish heart clung to the slimmest hope, yearning for a different explanation. She wanted to believe that there was a misunderstanding, some plausible reason that would erase the sting of what she had witnessed. But how could she dismiss the image burned into her mind, the undeniable reality she had seen with her own eyes? It felt like her heart and mind were at war, each pulling her in opposite directions, leaving her torn and uncertain about what to do next.

In those moments of solitude, Khushi felt the echoes of Ratna Singh Raizada's pain, understanding the depth of despair that must have haunted her. But amidst her turmoil, Khushi vowed to herself that she wouldn't follow the path her late mother-in-law had chosen.

A doorbell interrupted Khushi's thoughts, prompting her to rise from the floor and answer it. She prepared herself to face him. To her surprise, it was Samuel, Nani ji's servant. He explained that Arnav had called to inform Nani ji about a sudden dinner party he had to attend, which meant he would be late. Concerned for Khushi, Nani ji had sent Samuel to escort her back to their house.

Khushi sent Samuel away to inform Nani ji that she couldn't come due to a headache and reassured him not to worry about her. She retreated to the bathroom, taking a scalding hot shower and scrubbing her body until it turned red. After changing into her nightgown, she moved to the living room to wait for Arnav.

As she waited, her mind involuntarily conjured an image of Arnav and Lavanya kissing passionately in a beautiful hall, surrounded by applauding well-wishers. Khushi wondered why her mind was fixated on Arnav and Lavanya instead of Arnav and his secret wife. She couldn't rationalize this obsession, fearing she might be on the verge of losing her sanity. Perhaps, she thought, this was the moment when Arnav would find it easy to leave her without any guilt, if she turned insane.

Around midnight, Khushi's reverie was broken by the jingling of Arnav's keys as he entered the house. He stood silently, observing Khushi—his beautiful wife with red-rimmed eyes and a disheveled appearance. Without hesitation, he approached her, gently cupping her face with both hands.

"Khushi?" His voice tinged with panic, Arnav's eyes searched her body intensely for any sign of injury. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Khushi removed his hands from her body, causing Arnav to recoil in hurt and confusion.

"I want to go home."

"What?... Why? "

When Khushi didn't say anything, he gently took her hands and softly tugged at them. "Come on, let's talk, okay?"

"What's the purpose of talking if you're going to lie to me or hide things from me anyways?"

"What are you talking about? I've never lied to you."

"Okay, then tell me what happened between you and Ms. Kashyap?"

"Really, Khushi? You're thinking about Lavanya. Again? It's very late. Let's go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."

"No," Khushi's tone halted his movement.

He sighed, "There was nothing between Lavanya and me. We were friends, and then we weren't anymore. She wanted to marry me, but I didn't. So, I rejected her."

"Tell me the truth, Arnav."

"Khushi..." his voice tinted with frustration.

"We were friends too and I wanted to marry you but you didn't. Was it like that?" she whispered.

"Have you gone mad? I wanted to marry you. Those situations weren't the same."

"Did you want to marry me because you can't sleep with me without marrying me, like you did with Ms. Kashyap? If there was no serious relationship, why is she so obsessed with you? Why is she so hell-bent on proving that I am nothing compared to her? Do you have any answers to that?"

"Did lavanya tell you that? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"And what about your secret wife?"

"Secret wife? What the hell are you talking about? Listen, I don't know what she told you, Khushi. But you aren't thinking clearly right now. You need to calm down."

"NO!! You lied about sleeping with Ms.Kashyap. You hid your secret wife. If you had nothing to hide, then why didn't you warn me about anything before meeting Ms.Kashyap? And every time she meets me, she tries to make me feel so insecure. I don't know why she gets under my skin so easily."

She continued, almost hysterically, her emotions raw and overwhelming, "Did you lie because you wanted to see her behind my back? And at every party you attend, she's always there, isn't she? Why would she be at a work party that's unrelated to her profession if you're not giving her attention?.... How foolish of me !!! I've been tormenting myself, imagining what you two might be doing at those parties for days and there's a secret wife that I didn't even count on."

She saw his beautiful face contorted in pain, and her words dried in her throat. His pain shouldn't have mattered to her, but it did. She still loved him so much, against all reason. Minutes later, his features hardened, his jaw clenched and she witnessed his face morph into anger, concealing his hurt.

"Did you really just say that I go to those parties to fuck her?" His voice was dark as he whispered those words in a menacing low tone. Veins bulged on his forehead and his fists clenched dangerously. Khushi watched in silence as he stormed out the way he had come in, slamming the door behind him. This time, Khushi's tears came crashing down, shaking her small frame as she sank to the floor.

<previous> | <next >

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari

[gumy-shark]

untitled shou wip #1

yeah. decided “fuck it we ball” and am posting a wip i like. POV shou, set post-canon, 655 words. Shou does some introspection while working on his homework.

Shou may have his flaws, but- well, actually, Shou hasn’t put much thought into whether he has faults or not. He’s sure that he probably has them (and equally sure that you could ask pretty much anyone from Claw HQ about them and get a whole list), but it’s really just not the kind of thing he bothers to worry about. As far as Shou’s concerned, dwelling on all of your problems all the time is a great way to waste the little time you have on this earth.

The point is, whatever other faults Suzuki Shou may or may not allegedly have, being a liar isn’t one of them. It’s not in his nature to hide things, not when he could just come right out and say them. (Well, obviously he’ll make some exceptions for politeness and stuff, he’s not an asshole.) (Wait, is he an asshole? Maybe he should ask Ritsu about it, Ritsu’s pretty good at that kind of stuff.)

Shou makes a mental note to ask Ritsu about whether or not he is, in fact, an asshole. 

Maybe he should ask when the next time he needs help with wants company doing homework and Oh Right Homework He Still Needs To Do That.

The homework in question glares accusingly from his backpack. He’d gotten so caught up in thought that he’d forgotten all about it. Maybe he should get a diary like Ritsu, so that all of this thinking can become writing and doodling in the margins and then he won’t want to do it as much. Maybe- wait a second. This is stalling. Shou doesn’t want to do the stupid homework, so he’s running off with random trains of thought to avoid doing it. And stalling is for cowards who waste time and aren’t tough enough to face their problems head-on, so Shou forces himself to sit down and actually look at the worksheet he’s supposed to be turning in tomorrow.

Six minutes of extremely valiant effort later, Shou has reached new heights of hatred for (in no particular order): math, his teachers, his dad (who was not directly involved in this one but also Shou’s situation is almost certainly his fault somehow), his mom’s ancient old cat (puked on the floor), and most of all for the first worksheet he pulled out of his bag, which has stubbornly remained impossible despite Shou’s best efforts. The numbers just swim around in his head and he can’t keep the equations straight and no matter how hard he tries he just can’t get it to work.

There’s only one person Shou knows who could actually make any of this make sense. Looks like he has a reason to visit Ritsu today after all!

(It’s not running away, what he’s doing. Shou’s not running away here, he’s making a tactical decision to attack the problem from another angle. That’s still facing his problems, and he’d waste more time by struggling on his own since he clearly isn’t getting anywhere. Also, because asking for help isn’t cowardly OR running away it’s actually harder and tougher and therefore cooler. And also because running away isn’t even a bad thing, even if he was running away it would be fine and it wouldn’t make him a coward. See? He’s growing! He’s learning!)

As he leaves the train station and starts the trek towards Ritsu’s house, Shou pops into a convenience store on a whim and walks out with some soda and mentos. That way, if math still makes him want to explode things, he can do it without destroying the whole house (again).

Now that he thinks of it, Shou’s pretty sure some of those guys from the 7th Division ended up working at a convenience store somewhere in the city. Shou’s glad he didn’t end up walking in there- not that he’d particularly care, of course, but it just seems like it’d be kind of weird for everyone.

[rhythmic-idealist]

I’m going to start OFAswap posting on here more. OFAswap is an AU I’m* working on.

I am struggling with an OFAswap emotion. SO much.

In OFAswap, Himiko is the Fourth holder of One For All, the one who hid for eighteen years until it killed her.

A primer on this AU (feel free to skip if you know what OFAswap is):

—

The canonverse OFA predecessors are high schoolers. Deku, Katsuki, Tenya, Himiko, Ochako, Tooru, and Eijiro are the OFA vestiges, the first through seventh.

The Everything Hero: Creati is the number one hero in Japan.

Yoichi Shirogane is the Ninth. He attends UA with his classmates Kudo, Bruce, Hikage, Daigoro, En, Nana, and the rest of 1-A who haven’t been mentioned by name yet. Toshinori is a teenage vigilante.

—

Yoichi having Himiko’s quirk as one of the OFA quirks is so thematic to his relationship with OFA. There’s a lot in this story about transformation. Creati, after all. And then Nighteye picked out Suneater to be her successor, someone with a similar quirk and similar anxiety disorder hah. Yoichi, unlike those two, is in a body that others will argue wasn’t born to transform. But he will choose what he becomes on his terms. And Himiko’s quirk has such a good home around the climax to that. Especially when his romance with Kudo and Bruce is a relevant part of his story.

But oh god. Oh my god. Oh man. Every time I think about where I’m putting Hikage in the final war arc, it gets harder and harder and harder not to bring Himiko back to present day.

Who is Hikage even supposed to be in OFAswap if not Himiko’s corresponding 1-A kid. They’re already Tsuyu’s best friend. Ochakoism is already happening to them. What are they even here for.

It wouldn’t be romantic because I don’t wanna do any ships between any of the swapped kids and any of the canonverse kids— that’s just for me comfort reasons.

That doesn’t mean it can’t be here. Oh my god.

So much of Hikage’s OFAswap arc directly involves a) coming to believe there is anyone in the world who is interested earnestly in their point of view, b) falling in love, c) a disbelief that the world can be easier to live in for them personally, so they’ll just do it anyway.

How am I even supposed to make SENSE of them without Himiko in here.

They’ve even got Danger Sense which, in canonverse, was so instrumental to displaying Himiko’s intentions and feelings to the audience.

And Hikage’s DEAL is an inner world that no one is actually interested in understanding and seeing.

At the moment, Hikage is the entire way we come at quirk counseling, in OFAswap!! Because some quirk counselor looks at them and decides to approach Danger Sense like it’s an anxiety disorder & what Hikage needs, regarding the state of the world and the turmoil in it, is self-help to care less.

HOW do I not put them next to Himiko. I’m going to cry. What do they even do if it isn’t saving Himiko?

Himiko’s entire deal (relative to Hikage and how they encounter her, I mean) would have to be a crush on kid-Yoichi, which okay I do understand the awkwardness about, but that feels way more fine and comfortable to me personally, because it’s really just a matter of making it so Saito looks like a ghostly drowned orphan in this universe.

Sorry I feel overwhelmed about her I had to - I don’t know. I don’t even know. This stares me in the face every time I try to put OFAswap Hikage in the final war arc. Like right now they’re tentatively next to Shoto but that’s not where they belong. Where’s Himiko-channnnnn

The war arc leaves Hikage feeling deeply inadequate and unsettled about the state of, like, emotional support in their relationship with Daigoro. Like they feel like it’s very uneven, and Daigoro has moved all these mountains to figure out what to do with them and their thousands of little barbs and particularities and wants, and now they find themself looking at a Daigoro who is… so angry and doesn’t know where to put any of it. And they. Do not know what to do for him. And that sucks! Because he… truly does know what he can be for them, in the aftermath of the first war arc!

And I don’t know, I just feel like. OFAswap Hikage decided a long time ago that no one is going to be interested in their internal world and that’s fine and they’re going to be a hero anyway, no one at their side. So Himiko’s idea of making a world that’s easier to live in comes as such a critical counterpoint, and would mark such a climax against Hikage needing to learn to even ALLOW people to know what it is they think, and feel, and would feel loved by.

They’ve gotten there with Daigoro and Tsuyu but they truly are not there with 1-A! And “I’ll just shut the fuck up and be a hero anyway, and the only judge of me that matters is myself” is admirable but does, in fact, contain a LOT of emotional repression.

A refusal to be a social creature. I will be desperately lonely and hurt the whole time and that’s fine because I’ll be doing the right thing. I will be doing what is important to me. It is possible to make that all that matters to me. I don’t need the people around me to change.

And then on the flipside, for Himiko. There’s Hikage and their desire to figure out how the hell to love someone in the way that will save him— and there’s Himiko who believes Touya is dying today.

And so it would climax in this. Just. Himiko, who has the League, who loves all of them as she is and they love her as she is, but she can’t fucking save them. She and Hikage who both want to figure out how to save the people they love.

Hell, the reason Daigoro is currently boiling over is he’s one of the kids who found Midnight!!! Now here’s Hikage trying to save Himiko, who has exploded into an angry and hopeless representation of her grief!!

What do I even DO!!!!!!!!!!!!

God. God Yoichi having Transform as one of the OFA quirks is so instrumental to the main plot though.

I ask once again can I PLEEEEASE simply have two Himikos……… one isn’t enough she’s too important to every single side of the story.

God. God. God. “Becoming what I love” is such a beat for Yoichi’s character. And he calls her auntie Himiko. How could I part with that. What do I even DO.

WHO WOULD EVEN BE THE FOURTH. Once upon a time, in the early early OFAswap days, it was briefly Tsuyu, but I think I’ve just demonstrated that I really can’t pull Tsuyu out of OFAswap Hikage’s life either.

All I know is that with their powers combined, OFAswap!Hikage and Himiko could construct one complete “Change Your Mind” by Rebecca Sugar.

—

*with @doodlegraveyard, and with abundant help from @skeletorific!

Whom I DMed about this, but I’m posting the feeling anyway because AAAAAAH.

[zoeywhumps]

NIGHTFALL : Chapter One

(A new story I'm working on!)

A knock on Nyx's door startled her in the middle of the night, as she prepared a midnight snack of two double chocolate chip cookies.

"It's almost 3 am. Who the hell has the audacity?" Nyx snapped to no one in particular. She already knew the answer. It could only be the one person who had managed to figure out her home address- Skyfall. The one who had, for some reason, not betrayed it yet, despite having every reason to.

Her longtime rival.

She strode towards the door unarmed. Nightmare didn't need weapons to be lethal. Her brown and white hair was a mess, tied back in a quick bun, and she was wearing only a t-shirt and pajama shorts, but she was confident. Perhaps overconfident, in retrospect.

Nyx opened the door.

A huddled woman was crouched by the entryway, blood soaking her pale pink shirt, deep cuts across her arms, a vacant and dazed look in her eyes.

Nightmare loomed over Skyfall with disbelief.

"What happened." It was a statement she didn't expect an answer to as she scooped her enemy up in her arms quickly and brought her inside the house, locking the door behind her.

"I didn't... know where else... to go." The blonde said shakily, tears collecting in her emerald green eyes.

"Stay there." She ordered, as she deposited the woman onto a comfy leather couch, draped a soft fleece blanket onto her despite knowing it would become bloody in a matter of seconds, and rushed off to get her first aid kit.

Nightmare ran back over to Skyfall, pulling the blanket down to her waist and using scissors to cut her shirt apart, revealing a gaping knife wound across her chest.

"Shit. That's deep." She inhaled sharply. "You'd better bite your tongue, my painkillers won't do shit for this." She said even as she injected Skyfall with them.

"Please," Skyfall struggled underneath her, whimpering and trying to get free.

"I'm helping you, dumbass." Nyx said firmly, taking out the needle and sutures.

"...Oh."

"What'd you think I was doing?" She said. "Nevermind, be quiet now or you'll fuck yourself up even more" Nightmare leaned down, knees hard against the wood floor, and began to stitch up the injury.

"O-ow, mmnh-" Skyfall did as Nyx had asked and bit her tongue, closing her eyes tightly.

"Good girl," she said, focusing all of her energy into helping her enemy, to the point where she almost forgot to breathe.

They stayed like that for a while as Nightmare finally patched up the wound, and then wrapped bandages tightly around it so that it'd be harder for it to come undone. Next, she worked on the cuts on Skyfall's arms, some needing stitches and some not. Around halfway through, the hero had passed out, breathing shallowly.

Nightmare released a string of curses under her breath once she realized how much blood Skyfall had shed all over her couch while she was working.

"Right, you're damn lucky I'm O negative." She got out her IV and started to connect her own hand to Skyfall's. Her blood flowed through the thin tube into the blonde's body, and Nightmare sighed.

"Why am I doing this?" She grumbled to herself, but didn't stop until she started to feel lightheaded, quickly severing the connection and covering up both of the nicked areas with bandages.

Nyx spent over an hour cleaning up the damn couch, power washing the blanket in desperation- it had been one of her favorites, yet she had thrown it over her worst enemy without hesitation, without question- and moving Skyfall into the guest bedroom.

She sat down on the stool next to the bed where her nemesis laid, and that was where she stayed until morning, when Skyfall finally stirred.

Even like this, she was beautiful, her tangled sandy blonde hair nearly covering one eye, her strawberry earrings askew, wearing nothing but bandages and leggings. Nightmare had wiped most of the blood off of her the best she could, but smears still remained across her torso.

"Who." Nightmare said simply.

Skyfall looked up at her, her forest-green eyes wide and confused.

"Who did this?" Her tone had a hard edge to it, a dangerous and volatile undertone.

"...Fallen Angel." Skyfall said finally, not meeting Nightmare's eyes, as if she was embarrassed. Whether that was of being beaten, or of coming to her enemy for help, Nightmare couldn't tell. She suspected it was both.

"I'll handle her." She told the injured woman firmly. Skyfall's eyes lit up with fear dancing like flames.

"Nightmare, I-"

"You stay here. Rest."

And she left, locking Skyfall in- just as much to keep others out as to keep her enemy in, even though she doubted that Skyfall could even stand, it was a habit to not underestimate her.

As she got dressed in her black and gold ensemble, her thoughts were racing. She couldn't fathom what she was even thinking, letting Skyfall of all people into her house, almost welcoming her!

Skyfall would leave. As soon as she was able to walk. This was just a one time thing. This was only because Nightmare was the only one who could beat up her arch rival.

...Right?

[seventeenlovesthree]

Since I've been talking about headcanons/AU possibilities so much, here is still one of my favourite sexuality headcanons for Koushirou.

He did tons of research on sexual attractions to figure out how his own attractions work - because he absolutely didn't understand all the back and forth between some of his friends or the fawning of certain people around him displayed towards certain individuals. Sure, he adored and appreciated his friends himself, some more than others, but "why do some people get so extreme about this?"

As he experiences his teens in the early 2000s, sexuality terms aren't as widespread yet, but he still has access to a lot of spaces and resources - to some degree, it still confuses him that terms about asexuality do seem to apply to how he feels. On the other hand, while his whole character arc had always been about accepting himself how he was, he would take his time to come to his own conclusions. If we take Tri into consideration, that actually makes perfect sense! The conclusion he might come to is "I only fall for people close to me, regardless of gender (= demisexuality)" but for now, he also still feels he has to conform to heteronormativity for at LEAST a few years.

The idea here is that he texted a lot with Mimi throughout the years since Adventure and since she had moved to America in particular - and felt more and more attracted to her self in text and thus, naturally, started liking her physical appearance too. (Because, duh, look at her!!!) Once she came back to Japan, there were some hiccups between them, as they may not have been as compatible emotionally with each other's rl!selves at this point in time. (And it may also explain his weird reactions to Jyou scolding him for having "the ladies hate him", because he may be frustrated with himself. "This is exhausting, I do like Mimi-san, but this is not working out and I don't understand why.")

Until his early to mid-twenties (2010 onwards), he will have embraced the "it probably doesn't even matter whom of my friends I'm attracted to" attitude, but he is not pushing it, just naturally lets the course take place. That's also why he eventually becomes so comfortable with Mimi again - but he had to become comfortable with himself first.

In this context, I also personally like to use the infamous "Koushirou likes Taichi a little too much" quote, because Taichi will always be his gay awakening in my book. Which, in context of how Taichi treats him, enables and encourages him, makes perfect sense to me again. But Koushirou suppressed these feelings and never pursued them romantically as a teenager aside from maaaaaybe that one love letter incident, who knows, because, ya know, best friend pining angst. And since we're already at tropes, I love the "one fell first, the other fell harder" trope for them, though actually: Koushirou is the one who consciously falls first. Taichi doesn't realize it for YEARS and then it hits him even harder. It works the other way round too, but that one is my favourite scenario.

Long story short, you CAN apply his demisexuality to a lot of other Chosen Children as well, but to me, Mimi and Taichi will always be his awakenings.

[stupidstupidratcreatures]

preface that these are problems that it's only really possible for one to have in a particular and privileged set of circumstances

anyway i've been thinking about this a lot lately and. i've been out, sort of, as trans for a little bit over six years now, and i deeply, deeply regret not transitioning basically at all during that time. i said i had a name and i sporadically told people i had pronouns and that was the extent of it. no clothes shopping no voices no nothing.

currently this is manifesting as me being really sad about not going out of my way to get puberty blockers while those would still do anything. i hate my clothing, i hate my name, i hate the way people look at me on the street, but i think i could be more okay with all of that if i didn't also hate my voice. because the other three i can, like, reasonably avoid.

if i go looking for them i can find reasons to blame my parents instead of myself, and i'm probably right to, but what's really the point? of course they didn't do anything helpful, because why on earth would they? they love sitting on their asses and when i was a teenager they were even more explicit about not respecting me as a person.

and what about after that? sure, the excuse i made to myself was that i was being inactive because it would be less of a hassle to just wait until i was 18 so there was less bullshit, but even if that was true in a way that actually mattered it was still years in between becoming an adult and actually doing anything. not even behavioral or social stuff like voice training (again. caustic to even think about how my voice sounds) or clothing, just the stupid easy shit. go to pharmacy, sit on toilet, feel pain. it took two years for me to decide to actually get what i wanted.

i should be really clear: i've always known i've wanted this. even beyond the vague feeling of wanting out that i had for my entire life, i knew i wanted specifically these things for years and years. years that i just didn't do anything about. not for any reason. just a vague feeling that i wasn't allowed to get what i wanted, because they were things that i wanted

and i know i'm not actually old, and my life is closer to it starting than it ending. (i mean. god willing.) but it still hurts, and my voice still sounds like this, and this is the oldest i've ever been. also, shit is hitting the fan faster than ever, and i wish i was three years into transition isntead of one, because i wish i had had more time living as a human being before it goes to hell even more than it already has. again, particular and privileged set of circumstances.

none of this would sting so much if i wasn't also a dropout-via-quarantine and completely adrift and someone who has proven herself unable to keep a job. i'm starting college in the fall and it could have been my senior year. to quote my sister, we're going to be learning calculus at the same time. i don't know how positive that is for her, but it's terrifying and depressing to me. like, one or the other of "scatterbrained loser" and "closet case" would be... well, i guess i don't know if i would think it was fine. i probably wouldn't. but as it stands one makes it harder to deal with the other than it otherwise might be.

i don't know. not to talk about a website and a movie on a serious post, but everyone getting all misty-eyed about "there is still time" and the ending of i saw the tv glow is acid to me because of the above. of course there isn't "time". there's never been "time". there isn't "time" to get to a gas station when your tank runs out on the highway, but there isn't "time" to just keep driving either. you pull over on the side of the road because you don't want to be hit by a car. and then you call a number and pray.

i think i thought this would be easier for whatever reason. i have no excuse for this, i've known and read more than is practical or useful about gigantic interlocking impersonal systems of oppression and exploitation for about ten years now, but i just thought they would be nicer to me.