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demonicheadcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get the brothers reacting to finding MCs sketchbook and it’s filled with drawings of the demon who picked it up? All of them are masterpieces and some are angsty or sad, others happy, some just them doing mundane things. When confronted, MC just says “Of course I draw you all the time, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. You’re my muse.” Thank you in advance, if it’s too complicated you can skip.

AN: This cute prompt has been sitting in my inbox for far too long. Thanks for sending this in Nonny <3 I love this idea. I tried to keep each scenario short so I could get this done quickly, as you’ve waited long enough for it. Tried is the key word here ;u;

You’re maybe already dating the boys in these? Or very close? They’re not explicitly romantic but have some affection. I also didn’t make the MC say these exact words, or even anything at all in some of these prompts, but the general feeling is still there. I hope that’s alright!

Lucifer

You left the book behind when studying together, rushing off to meet up with Mammon after you realised you were late and would hear hell for it. He notices it sometime later, too busy relishing on even the short period of time he’d gotten to spend alone with you in relative peace.

He picks it up and, curious, with no worries that you might not really want him to look through it, he flips it open to the first page. He realises what it is right away, and continues to flip through the pages until he gets to a drawing of him. Its such a perfect represention of the moment that he can recall exactly when you must’ve drawn this.

You’d come into his room to have a break from all the noise in the rest of the house, and you had laid on your stomach on his bed and worked away at something as he went through paperwork at his desk. He’d wanted to ask you, at the time, what had you so focused, but he hadn’t wanted to ruin the sight.

He continues to flip through the pages, and frowns slightly for every drawing he sees of one of his brothers, but his lips twitch up every time there’s even a simple doodle of him. He counts, unconsciously, and realises you’ve drawn him more than anyone else. Pride swells in his chest, so very familiar and not at the same time.

He hears the tapping at his door and calls out, immediately, for you to come in. He knows that knock, after all, and you’re one of the few members of the house that he wouldn’t hear coming down the corridor. He leans against the front of his desk, holding your book open in front of him, not bothering to hide the fact that he’d looked through it.

The particular sketch he’s looking at is one where you must’ve been close - you’ve detailed in every long, delicate eyelash, his hair falling in front of his face and his lips slightly parted, only the faintest frown on his face as he focuses hard on his work. He smiles as he tips the book forward, watching as your eyes are drawn to it. To his surprise, you only smile, relieved, raising a hand to your chest.

“Thank goodness, I did leave it here after all.”

You walk over and hop up onto his desk, leaning towards him as you try to see which sketch he’s looking at. He slouches a little more to make you comfortable and shows the sketch.

“You’ve drawn me a lot,” he comments.

“Of course. You’re beautiful, how could I resist?”

He presses a kiss to your temple and rests his head against yours, smiling. He doesn’t often like people commenting on his appearance - he was confident enough about it, knew how he looked, but he didn’t need to hear about it all the time. Still, from you, it didn’t hurt. Especially not if you felt inspired enough by it to draw him.

[[Other brothers are under the read more]]

Mammon

Mammon had burst into your room and you weren’t there. Frustrated by your absence and unsure of when to expect you back, he decides to pick through your stuff. He wasn’t going to steal any of it - he’d been called out by Beel about that, before, and whilst he’d denied it at the time he knew it was true. He’d much rather steal something for you than from you.

The book is open on your desk to a page full of mindless doodles. It piques his curiosity, and he grabs it and sits down, kicking his feet up on top of your desk. It wasn’t like you were there to tell him not to, and you’d left without telling him where you were going so he was going to do whatever he wanted until you got back.

He flicks back to the start of the book, and honestly his first thoughts are about how you could easily sell these drawings for a lot of Grimm. Sketches of the Devildom, of flowers and creatures you couldn’t find in the human realm, of how the Devildom looked all lit up with the moon overhead, from the highest balcony in the RAD building. He’s in awe, mouth a faint ‘o’ shape as he continues to turn page by page.

The first drawing of him makes him freeze up. He was a model, Mammon knew he must be handsome. But he’d never felt it like he did now. In the drawing, he’s sitting on the floor, cushion in his lap as he plays some game on a controller. His expression is somewhere between frustrated and delighted, his hair fluffy and messy because he’d been running his hands through it.

He remembers - you’d been having trouble adapting to the Devildom so he stole- borrowed a console from Levi, but you were too tired to play. He played anyway, hoping that at least watching him would distract you enough, and to convince himself that he was in part doing it for him too and not to entertain some random human.

You walk in and he slams the book shut, but its too late - you’ve seen him holding it. You don’t seem mad about that, though, and instead glare at how he has his feet up on your desk. He adjusts quickly, fumbling as he tries to put on his confident act, walking over to you as he waves the sketchbook in the air.

“What’s this, then? You’ve been drawing me without asking me first?” he asks, teasing lilt falling flat in his voice. His face feels far too warm, as it often does when he’s around you.

“I couldn’t help it. You’re so pretty I just had to.” You shrug, nonchalant. You swipe the book from his hand and sit on your bed, tapping the space beside you. “How far in did you get?”

Mammon pouts as he goes to sit beside you. “Not far.” As he sits beside you, he grabs your sides and pulls you to lay down, holding the sketchbook open up in the air. He’s desperate for some attention right now, but he wanted to keep looking at your art. “Let’s look through the rest together.”

Leviathan

Levi was flustered. You’d been spending time in his room, and he loved your presence but it took him so long to get used to it each time that you stopped in to hang out with him. You’d brought the book you always had with you, and were working away on something, laying on your stomach on the floor with a Ruri-chan plushie in one arm.

He fumbles with his controller and sighs as he misses yet another jump in the game he was trying hard to distract himself with. Every time he glances over, he wants to ask what you’re doing, why you’re here with him when you could easily do your work elsewhere or with any of his brothers, if you were really happy to just sit in his presence like this. His voice dies in his throat and his face flushes when he catches sight of you, so he never does get to ask.

He’d messed up one too many times and was starting to get frustrated when he glanced over and realised you were looking at him, too. Heat floods into his face, and his frustrations die before he can even mumble out his signature ‘this is so unfair’. You smile, going back to your work before dropping your pencil. You wiggle around until you’re sitting, cross-legged, and hold out your sketchbook.

It was a drawing. You’d been drawing, and you’d been drawing him. Levi leans closer hesitantly, wanting to get a better look at it, trying not to think about how giddy and anxious your proud smile made him feel. He works up the courage to take the book out of your hands and looks over the drawing. It takes a long time before he can say anything, too busy focusing on all the little details - how his face is scrunched up from frustration and concentration, how his headphone cord is coiled around his fingers from when he’d been playing with it and hadn’t untangled it fully, how his head was tilted to stop his hair from fully falling in front of his eyes.

“You... its really good, but, I don’t... I’m not this handsome,” he mumbles, face bright red, and he flinches when you laugh.

“You are. More-so, actually, but its hard to capture from this distance.”

Levi can’t respond, just swallows. You sigh, something fond in it, and walk on your knees until you can fall against his side, cuddling up to the Ruri-chan plushie.

“Look through the other drawings. I only draw what I find beautiful. That’s why I drew you.”

His smile is faint, but its enough. He’s hearing your words, even if they’re hard to process for him. He relaxes and flips back to the front page, ready to look at the rest of your work with you.

Satan

Books were commonplace in his room. They were part of the furniture - quite literally, as they were piled up everywhere, even on top of his bed, although he’d made an effort to stop putting them there so long as you were spending time with him, so that you had somewhere comfortable to sit or lay whilst you were reading.

And yet, he always noticed when one was out of place, or when a new book had joined his collection without his knowing. Sometimes this happened because his brothers had found something interesting but weren’t willing to say aloud that it had reminded them of him, or that they bought it because he might enjoy it, so they’d simply popped into his room and added it to a stack. It was normal at this point.

That’s why he didn’t question it when there was a new book left on his bed, and when he didn’t hesitate to lay down and open it up, curious as to what story one of his brothers had left for him this time. Instead, he’s met with drawings. Amazing drawings of the Devildom, of his brothers... and of him.

There are notes, as well, few and far between, that allow him to place this as being your book. He knew that scrawl. He felt guilty to look through your sketchbook without your permission, but now that he’d already opened it, he was too curious to leave it be. He’d be honest about it later and deal with the consequences then, or joke about how you’d been drawing him without his permission so you were equal now.

The drawings were beautiful, more detailed that he’d seen for casual doodles left in a book without being shown to the subjects in them. He takes his time to look over each page carefully, each drawing filling his heart with something foreign, sweet and sticky like berry pie. He spends extra time focusing on each drawing of himself, wonders how and why you’d made him look so soft. It was hard for him to get portraits done as his presence could invoke anger in others and leave harsh and angry lines and brush strokes on the canvas, but clearly he didn’t have that same influence on you - instead, each drawing of him was more delicate than any of the others, like you’d put more effort in.

Satan returns it to you later, a smile on his face. He does apologise immediately, for looking at the drawings without your permission.

“Its alright. I’m just glad you found it for me.” You’re completely cheery, not bothered at all, and Satan sighs in relief.

“You’ve drawn me quite a lot,” he notes.

“Well obviously. I spend the most time with you,” you say, smiling when you catch the faint pout he covers up. That wasn’t what he had expected or wanted you to say, clearly. Nor was it all you had to say on the matter. “Also, you’re very beautiful. I wanted to try and capture that and keep a little for myself.”

He smiles now, content, and pats you on the head. “If you want me around, you only have to ask.”

Asmodeus

You’d been working away at something as he picked out an outfit and fixed his hair, and he’d been dying to ask but he just needed to adjust a few more strands first - you were going out to Majolish together and he wanted to look perfect. He always did, of course, but when the two of you were going out together he put in even more effort than usual.

When he finally finishes, he jumps up out of his chair and rushes over to you.

“How do I look?” he asks, beaming, full of confidence as always.

“Fabulous,” you say, reaching out to readjust a few strands of hair that had fallen out of place from his quick movements. He sits down on his bed beside you and pulls you up until you’re sitting beside him, hugging you around your waist.

“What were you doing whilst you were waiting? You looked so focused, it was adorable~” Asmo chirps, looking pointedly at the sketchbook. His eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Wait, is that me?”

You nod, lifting your sketchbook up so that the two of you could see it properly. You’d been drawing him, just little sketches as he flitted about the room doing this and that to get ready. You couldn’t have spent long on each one, and yet they captured him perfectly. He looked elegant in each, determined and beautiful.

You flicked back to the previous page before he could comment, and Asmo’s breath caught in his throat. This drawing was him, it was so brilliant an example of everything that he was. He was looking at you and smiling, and you’d captured the love and admiration in his eyes so perfectly he wondered if this was somehow a photograph.

Asmo tears up and hugs you tighter, burying his face against your neck. You can feel him smile wide against your skin. He stays like that for only a moment before his excitement bubbles up to the surface and he litters your cheek, nose, and forehead with feather-light kisses. He’d do anything for the one who saw him as he was.

Beelzebub

Beel had a pretty normal schedule for each day - he’d exercise, go to school, spend time with you and Belphie or his other brothers if they were around and alright with it, and of course, he’d eat quite a lot. You had a good idea of where he’d be throughout the day, and when you had the time for it, you’d accompany him so he wasn’t alone. Whether that meant sitting on the counter as he dug through the fridge, or laying on the sofa with your head in his lap and your feet in Belphie’s, you just liked to spend time with him.

And, a lot of the time, he noticed you had this little book with you. He’d caught you glancing at him many times, but didn’t think anything of it. He glanced at you a lot, too, so maybe it was only to be expected. He’d gotten used to the butterflies in his stomach when you two randomly linked eyes and you grinned, twirling your pencil around in your hand.

A lot of your time was spent together in relative silence, as well, and he was accustomed to hearing your pencil scratch against the paper. But he never asked what you were doing, because if you wanted to tell him you would. He trusted you to do that. And his trust paid off, when you were both watching a show together.

He notices early on that you're paying more attention to him than the screen, and when the episode finishes you tap him gently on the shoulder before stretching out your wrists. He looks to you, tilting his head in curiosity until you hold the book open in front of him.

It was a drawing of him, focused on the screen, odd lighting casting shadows against his form. He had something in his hand, some sort of food, but you’d put more attention into actually drawing him. So much attention that he was sure no matter how long he looked, there would always be something more to notice.

“Its me?” he asks, unsure lilt in his voice. He looks bashful, like he’s done something wrong. “Why?”

You stretch out your arms again, thinking, and finally answer, “Because you looked beautiful, and I wanted to draw you?”

It was neither easy nor hard to make Beel blush, and most of the time it just seemed to happen. You hadn’t caught onto the pattern yet, hadn’t been able to perfect it so that you could make it happen whenever you wanted. But you smile in silent victory now as his ears and cheeks flush a reddish pink, pairing nicely with his wide eyes.

His surprise gives way to a smile, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you, holding you close. All he can manage is a thank you, but with that you know how much he appreciates it, how much he appreciates you.

Belphegor

Belphie would often drag you off to the attic, and whilst he enjoyed the times where you would curl up in his arms and nap with him until you absolutely had to get up, he knew he couldn’t expect that of you constantly. You were still human, and you could only sleep so much before you had to get up to stretch or eat or just do something else to occupy your mind.

You’d built up a habit together, now, where if you wanted to get up you’d tap his arm twice and he’d reluctantly let you go. He’d stay awake if you left the room, just enough so that he’d be able to tell when you returned. If you didn’t, he’d have to go seek you out again by himself to drag you back with him and absolutely not just to make sure you were okay. If you did return, he’d go back to sleep and let you do what you wanted, opening his arms up if you tapped on them again to crawl back into his grip. It was peaceful, and though he never said it aloud, he loved it.

Often times, when he did wake up, you’d be sitting nearby in a little bundle of pillows and blankets that you’d made with a book and pencil in hand. You were quick to notice when he woke up, so Belphie could never just watch you to figure out what you were doing, which frustrated him to no end but at the same time it was nice to be known. Still, he was determined to figure it out.

His determination is unnecessary, because one day he wakes up and you’re looking straight at him, smiling contentedly. He woke up too fast, then, heart pounding as he tried to remember that expression. Did you admire him so much to look at him like that, even when he was just sleeping?

“You’re awake,” you say, voice light and cheery.

“And you were watching me sleep, as always,” Belphie scoffs, pulling the blanket up over his face to cover up his blush. “What’s new?”

You pout and stick out your tongue at him, and he lowers the blanket enough to return the gesture. It was hard to remember just how old he was when he acted like that.

“With good reason,” you tell him. He raises an eyebrow, and you smile and hold out your sketchbook. He takes it immediately, trying to act nonchalant as he opens it up and flicks through the pages. You barely catch how his eyes widen, how his breath catches and he slows down, taking in each drawing carefully.

“There are... a lot of drawings, of me sleeping,” Belphie says, swallowing, raising the book enough to try to cover his smile. Too late, you think. You’d caught him.

“You look cute like that. Plus, its the only time you sit still enough for me to draw you.”

“Or you’re just that obsessed with me. Weirdo.” He closes the book and hands it back to you, sitting up to stretch. He keeps his eyes on you, notices when you frown the tiniest bit. Was his teasing too much?

He sighs and slides out of bed, sitting in your pile beside you. He leans against you, like a cat looking for attention without wanting to admit it, and takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“Thanks, MC.”

#surprise request! i felt like writing and it just all kind of flowed out with this one #Anonymous #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my headcanons #my writings #fluff #i had a lot of fun writing this ashdashj even tho i only did bc i couldnt sleep ;u;

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emsylcatac · 4 years ago

Text

What the future holds, we'll never know

Summary

Marinette didn't know what the future was made of—but the glimpse of the one featuring her akumatised partner she had seen taught her one thing: she and Chat Noir should never be together.

Which currently wasn't really a problem considering that she was in love with Adrien, and that they had been getting closer lately.

Read it on AO3

Hiiii @ladynoirist Lisa gemini bro ♥♥♥ I was soooo happy to be your totally secret (yes pretend you never guessed it was me okay I was so subtle) santaaaa for the @mlsecretsanta !!! (also pretend we're totally in December and not in May ho ho ho! Reindeers are still roaming!)

I'm so sorry for how late I am, but I hope you'll enjoy this fic 😄

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h after the reveal

Marinette stood in front of the bistro door, pacing. Pretending to look at the menu, pretending to think of what to choose, pretending that everything was absolutely normal and fine and this was just a perfectly normal day.

It was, however, not normal nor fine inside her head.

She had to push that door. She was already a good half an hour late and it wouldn’t do good to make her friends wait longer—excuses were harder and harder to explain the more she shied away.

Please, don’t be here. She never thought she would hope for that. Please have your bodyguard bring you home. Your father forcing you to go home.

Please, go home by yourself and find some stupid excuse.

She would feel bad for having all these unfair hopes if she hadn't been feeling completely panicked inside.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Gulping, she chanced a glance at it.

Alya girl where are u?? we’re waiting to order!

Well. She couldn’t delay for much longer. Taking a deep breath, Marinette pushed the door open and scanned the room.

Please, please don’t be inside.

She wasn’t being fair, she knew that—it wasn’t his fault if she didn’t feel like facing him.

“Marinette!”

She turned in the direction of her name where Alya was waving at her, hand held up high, while Nino was grinning and—he was there.

Swallowing—though her mouth had been dry for a while now—Marinette headed towards them despite her legs screaming at her to turn around and run as fast as possible away from here.

“H-hey,” she stuttered, “sorry for...for being late.”

She sat next to Adrien (because of course she had to be seated next to him). Their eyes met for a split second and he gave her a timid smile that she couldn’t return.

“It’s fine,” Alya waved off, “the most important thing is that you’re here now! But quick, choose what you want to eat, I’m staaarving!”

She, for one, clearly wasn’t.

Adrien was giving her quick glances and she tried her best to ignore him.

It was him, it was him, it was him.

And it was oh so unfair. She picked up her menu to hide her face as tears threatened to escape the corners of her eyes.

───※ ·❆· ※───

5th of October, 108 days before the reveal

“Try that.”

Marinette turned around, abandoning the search for her size amongst the many red skirts on the clothes rail.

Adrien was holding a tacky glittery dress, reflecting the light of a multitude of disharmonious colours, supporting two red fabric-flowers on each shoulder straps. It was positively horrendous, the kind of clothes you wonder who would ever buy when passing in front of it in the store.

She looked up to Adrien’s innocent smile and had to bite down the disgusted expression she suspected she must have shown for a split second. She hoped he hadn’t noticed—the last thing she wanted was to offend him. Growing-up in the fashion industry didn’t make him a good judge in the field, it seemed.

“I… You want me to...to try that on?” she stammered.

He gave her a nod, humming enthusiastically.

Maybe it was the kind of dress Adrien saw on girls at fashion shows, and she just hadn't seen it before. Maybe he liked it on them.

Maybe he would find her pretty in it.

Against her better judgement (because her judgement was always lost when it came to him, wasn’t it?), Marinette stretched a hand towards the piece of clothing, gulping. She raised her eyes to his, offering a tight smile.

Adrien’s mouth twitched, and his eyes held a new mischievous glint that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“You...you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” she said, deflating.

He burst out laughing, a genuine, happy laugh that reminded her of a certain day in the rain, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself.

“You should have seen your face!”

He hadn't made fun of her in a while—in fact, he hadn’t laughed at her since that day, in the rain. The thought of him being comfortable enough with her to allow himself to do it again made her cheeks heat up.

“I could...I could call your bodyguard or...or your dad! Yes! I could call your dad and out you, you know!” she threatened, fighting back the nerves that always messed up her words when she spoke to him.

She wouldn’t mess up today.

It stopped Adrien momentarily and suddenly he was pleading her, begging with joined hands.

“Marinette,” he said, and he did sound serious—she would have been convinced had his eyes not looked a tad too much like a kicked puppy’s, “please, you can’t do that. Please please please please, I’m sorry for ruining your shopping day and running into you and insisting to tag along and—”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll wear it,” she said, snatching the terrible (terrible!!) dress from his hands, careful to not brush his fingers and make it awkward. “Because unlike you who’s trying to hide, I’m no coward.”

Adrien straightened up. “I’m no coward either!”

She could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest. She wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t gonna be nervous when talking to Adrien. Not again. Not this time. She could banter with him—this was known territory. Not with him though, never with him, but…

“Okay,” she crossed her arms. Her eyes scanned the different clothing items before landing on a pink plastic fur dress on a mannequin. “Prove it.”

He choked on a laugh before grinning at her. “Oh, you’re so on.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

16th of November, 66 days before the reveal

Adrien opened his diary, ready to write down the homework of the day Mrs Bustier was dictating.

The sound of ruffling papers and rummaging in bags filled the classroom, but he tried to focus on one sound in particular, resisting the urge to smile.

Any moment now.

Just a little longer before—

A loud groan resonated from behind him, and this time he let the grin slip onto his face, thankful that she couldn’t see it.

“What’s wrong?” Alya’s whisper made its way to his ears.

“Someone drew me with a towel on the head, swimming glasses and an ugly party dress!”

Adrien couldn’t help the snort that escaped him.

Teasing Marinette, he found, was very entertaining. He didn’t know exactly when he started to feel comfortable enough to do it. Didn’t know what exactly it was that was making it deliciously familiar yet all so new—and above all, warm.

Her reaction had been worth the wait. He silently delighted in the way she battled between raging against him and finding him hilarious (because with the way she giggled, or stammered, or even bit her lips the few times he had joked with her, before getting ahold of herself and teasing back, she had to find him hilarious, right?).

He guessed he deserved the ruler slap he received on the head.

Yes, Adrien liked her reactions, he thought while rubbing his head. He liked that new, teasing dynamic he’d been having with her for a couple of weeks now. He liked it.

But above all, he loved—

Adrien let a soft fond smile pull at his lips when he opened his diary that evening, once seated at his desk. A drawing quickly scribbled in the margin lit up by his many computer screens welcomed him of what he assumed was a new Gabriel ad featuring him in an atrocious fur dress coloured in fluro pink highlighter.

Above all, he loved her witty and sneaky comebacks.

───※ ·❆· ※───

8th of December, 44 days before the reveal

“What are you thinking about?”

Ladybug saw a smile stretch across her partner’s lips. He let out a fond chuckle, throwing his head up towards the sky. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was seeing more stars that way than if they had been opened looking up at the Parisian sky. She envied him a little.

“I’m thinking,” he simply said.

And didn’t say anything after that.

She waited a little, just in case, but he remained silent. His feet dangled above the edge of the roof and he started gently swinging his legs one after the other. He let out a breathless giggle, as if he couldn’t control it, and hummed a song her ears caught only because of the wind blowing towards her.

Her heart did a somersault in her chest at the sight. She felt a weird mix of emotions, not unpleasant but not entirely enjoyable either, bittersweetness and happiness mingling together.

He did look happy—but tonight it felt like she wasn’t a part of it. That he was in his own bubble of joy, a bubble she once had complete control over but, in that instant, was slipping through her fingers. If she was being honest, it had been slowly and subtly escaping her for a while now.

He was in love, she realised. Her gaze on him softened, before she turned away from him to look towards the sky, too, and exhaled a puff of hot air that dissipated in the cold and continued to grow as she joined him in his humming, closing her eyes.

If she wasn’t the one he was shining for tonight, she would still share that moment of exhilaration with him.

Besides, she had reasons to feel giddy herself too.

───※ ·❆· ※───

29th of December, 23 days before the reveal

“Hey.” Plagg’s voice wasn’t loud enough to pull Adrien out of his reverie completely, but enough to bring the cloud he was on a little bit back down to Earth. “You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes now. What’s up?”

Adrien let the thread of his lucky charm pass through his fingers, feeling the beads between them rolling from one to another. “I have?”

Plagg stayed silent for a few seconds. “Yes. Are you alright?”

Adrien chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” I have been for a little while now, he didn’t say.

Suddenly, he got up, walked towards his computer, picked up his phone from his desk and opened Instagram. His fingers quickly found Marinette’s name and pressed her icon to see her latest story. He smiled as a selfie of her and Alya appeared, and played it again once it was over.

“Ah. I see.” Adrien hadn’t noticed Plagg flying above his shoulder but he couldn’t care less. “You like her?”

“I love her,” he simply corrected.

“Really?! Planning on asking her out? Sweeping her off her feet?”

Adrien shook his head, chuckling. He put his phone back on his desk and let himself fall further in his seat, pushing his feet against the desk leg to propel himself back.

Marinette, Marinette, Marinette.

“We’ll see,” he stretched his arms above his head. “We’ll see what happens and when I feel that the time is right. I don’t want to mess it up. Not this time.”

Not with her.

───※ ·❆· ※───

11th of January, 10 days before the reveal

When she found Adrien waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs that morning, blushing, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other holding a yellow rose with red tips on the petals and stammering a simple yet powerful “I think I love you”, Marinette was glad she had been on time for school for once.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h before the reveal

“I can’t believe you made me wake up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning,” Marinette shook her head.

Adrien laughed and held her hand tighter as he pulled her along with him, striding alongside the Seine. “But you have to admit that it was worth it.”

Spending time with you is worth the world, she thought. I could wake up at five if that’s what you wanted. She didn’t say any of that out loud. They had only barely started dating, after all. It could scare him off.

Instead, she let half a smile pull at her lips. “I suppose.”

Adrien stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “It was worth it! It just snowed during the night—for once! It’s so rare, we have to enjoy it! And the sunrise was beautiful!”

She crossed her arms, pretending to think about it and evaluate her morning.

“It was,” Adrien insisted, pleaded for her to agree.

“Fine,” she conceded, giggling. “It was beautiful. I’m glad you forced me out of bed.”

She was rewarded by a brilliant smile, that melted her heart despite the cold January air on her cheeks, and a kiss on her forehead (that melted her whole).

A giddy laugh escaped her and she couldn’t help but kiss his nose, making him giggle, the sound sweeter than the glockenspiel a busker was playing a few meters away.

Adrien’s cheeks were red when she pulled away—from the cold or from her kiss, she didn’t know, but she hoped for the latter. She decided to grab his winter hat, leaving his hair all messy on top and wide eyes of outraged shock on his face. Adrien, she had realised, really liked when she was messing with him and she berated herself for never having dared to do such a thing before.

In retaliation, he grabbed her own hat and put it on his head. “Jokes on you,” he said, “now I have a pink pompom while you have a lame black one!”

She laughed as she put his hat on her own head. He likes me, she chanted in her head. He loves me even. He loves me, he loves me, and I love him. All was well that day. All was perfect.

“When are we meeting up with Alya and Nino for lunch, again?”

“I think we still have an hour,” Adrien replied.

It felt like nothing could disrupt their date, their day, them, really.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, the reveal

Accidents were stupid, most of the time. One second of miscalculation, one careless mistake and every neatly protected secret could be disrupted forever.

Detransforming in the same alleway was probably the stupidest, lamest and most careless way to reveal their identities, Marinette and Adrien thought, as they faced each other with wide eyes and heart beating too fast in their rib cages with their kwamis hanging incriminatingly at their side.

Marinette didn’t think. She ran.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h30 after the reveal

To say the atmosphere was awkward was an understatement. They were barely glancing at each other, passing each other the salt without brushing a finger or looking where they handed it.

Marinette overfilled Adrien’s glass when pouring him some water; Adrien startled when Marinette’s hand accidentally brushed his arm while trying to clean his table up.

They were a mess.

In a way, Marinette was glad that Alya and Nino were here to provide distraction.

She just hoped they wouldn’t notice the tension between her and Adrien.

“So, how have you two lovebirds been doing? Still in the chummy-chummy phase?”

So much for that. There was an awkward silence, none of them knowing what to really say.

“Sure,” she decided to take the plunge and ate a mouthful of fries so she wouldn’t have to explain further.

Alya and Nino said nothing, looking between the two of them.

“We’ve been, uh…we went walking around the Seine this morning,” Adrien mumbled. “To see the snow and, uh…”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Marinette cut. She couldn’t believe she was managing to talk to him. “Y-your...your winter hat.”

She handed it to him and Adrien looked at it for a few seconds before taking it back, his face crumbling and disheartened.

“...Thanks. Um, here is yours, I suppose.”

Marinette closed her eyes tight as she snatched her hat from his hands, feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

Where did they stand, now? They had barely even started dating. Could they brush off the massive new developments that were their identities? Could superheroes even date?

White flashed before her eyes. Her heart did a somersault, and the nausea intensified, making her head spin.

Stupid. Idiot, superheroes couldn’t date, least of all her and Adrien.

It was unfair that she was having these thoughts now, when she still didn’t know what was going on in her head—Adrien, Chat Noir, her partner. The same… so similar yet so different.

He had given her a rose when he had confessed. It was such a Chat Noir thing to do...she should have known.

They were the same person and it was awkward and she needed time she didn’t get the luxury to have. The second she thought she had acknowledged this information, it would all come back the next with the panic accompanying it.

The silence following must have been long and heavy because Alya took in a sharp breath. “Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal

“So, this is it?”

Adrien felt the knot in his throat tighten a little more and more as Marinette kept looking to the side, silent, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t know why he asked; he knew the answer. And he knew that hearing it would cut like a knife, but maybe that’s what he needed instead of foolishly pretending there was hope.

“This...this is it,” she finally said in a breath.

He swallowed. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

“I… okay.” Okay. Because what could he say? It wasn’t like he could decide for her.

If it was only on him, of course he wouldn’t want anything to end. Of course he would fight for them, and try and see where they’d go, identities be damned because...well, it was still them, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry. I...I really am. It’s just… It’s…” Marinette sighed. “It’s just that it’s a lot to take in, you know?”

She had finally raised her eyes to his, and Adrien had to fight back tears; maybe it would have been better if she had continued to avoid him.

So he was the one to turn his eyes away this time.

“I guess,” he couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice to show through. “I just...I didn’t know it would be so bad.”

“It’s not! It’s not that! It’s just that… we still...we still need to get used to this,” she gestured between them, “and… superheroes ca—”

“—can’t date, I know. I understand. I mean—not completely, but... I get it.”

And he did; really, he did get it.

It was selfish of him, probably, to not want things to stop. He found that it was also maybe a little selfish of her to want them to.

None of them had decided to be heroes—and yet they had to bear the consequences of such a responsibility.

Looking back at her, she had now dropped down her eyes and wasn’t watching him anymore. A strong gust of wind blew on the balcony, making Marinette’s hair wave with it.

“It’s getting late,” Adrien spoke. “And you’re freezing out here. I should get going. We’ll see each other tomorrow at school.”

He extended his baton.

“Adri—Chat Noir! Wait!”

She grabbed his tail, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around. She was fidgeting, and looked tentatively into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I hope it’s not...I hope it’s not too hard but…”

He sighed. “I’m not gonna lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It...it does. A lot. It’s like…” he sighed. “It’s like we had everything, and then…” He paused. “But I guess… none of us can control the way we feel, right?”

She nodded numbly. He attempted to give a smile, but he knew he wasn’t doing a good job at it.

“I just wished I knew what’s wrong with me, “ he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“I… it’s not… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Marinette tried. He could hear her voice trembling. I don’t think there’s anything right with me either, he didn’t say—and she didn’t say either, he noted with a bitter smile. “We’re just a mess right now.”

She bit her lip and he had to force to keep his eyes on hers. He felt terrible. Worse than all those times she had rejected him, because—well, because now he knew just how much he was losing.

“That we are.”

“We’re still...we’re still friends, right?” she asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“It’s you and me against the world, so… of course.” He shrugged.

And with that, he left, finally letting the tears blur his vision on his way home.

Tonight, their old promise sounded more bitter than comforting. Them against the world, the heroes fighting for the city, forced together by their duty and pulled apart at the same time.

───※ ·❆· ※───

23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal

Marinette rushed back inside her bedroom as soon as Adrien had left and threw her head in her pillow, crying her heart out. Screaming to Tikki how unfair it was to have to be responsible, at Master Fu for choosing this life for her, at herself for following it, at Adrien and Chat Noir for being the same people.

Shouting at Adrien again, at another Adrien she hadn’t even really known that it was all his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault, all his fault. She knew it was unfair of her—but she needed to put the blame on someone, and Chat Blanc, who didn’t exist anymore, seemed like a good candidate, no matter how wrong she knew it was.

───※ ·❆· ※───

24th of January, 3 days after the reveal

“...My father wanted us to break up.”

Marinette shrunk on herself. She wished she had been able to come up with a better excuse on the spot. Anything that would have avoided Adrien’s cold and numb tone when he repeated her flimsily excuse.

But nothing sounded plausible enough; nothing else could explain this sudden change in their dynamic.

“It...it was a surprise, really, we weren’t expecting it,” she tried, hoping he would follow her lead.

Adrien clicked his tongue. “A surprise, indeed.”

“Aaaand you didn’t think of dating in secret becaaause…?” Alya drawled, the cease in her brow increasing the longer she looked between the two of them.

“Because… well… because…” Marinette fumbled, trying to think of a way out because Alya wasn’t wrong and it was a flaw in her carelessly crafted plan.

“Because Marinette didn’t want to,” Adrien supplied curtly.

Alya and Nino’s heads snapped towards her with incredulous looks in their eyes, making her involuntarily shrink on herself even more.

“She said it wasn’t worth a try,” he shrugged and sat down, his back now to her.

Alya looked between the two with a mix of worry, incomprehension and a hint of pity. Marinette didn’t dare look at Nino to see what emotions would flicker in his eyes.

“That’s not it, it’s…” she struggled, took a deep breath, and tried again. She had to roll with what he came up with. “If he were to find out we...we’d be in trouble. You’d be in trouble… and I don’t want that,” she whispered the last words.

“Like I said,” Adrien said coolly, half turning towards them. “Not even worth a try.”

Her heart crumpled.

───※ ·❆· ※───

26th of january, 5 days after the reveal

“Chat Noir, you’re here!” Marinette exclaimed, relieved.

He twirled his baton, deflecting a spurt of gooey green liquid she could only dread to know the composition of—some akumas truly were more disgusting than others to deal with. “As for every akuma.” He raised a brow. “Don’t act so surprised.”

She startled. In the midst of all the action, in the hope and wait for his arrival—because she always felt bolder and stronger once her partner was by her side—she had forgotten.

This was Adrien, her ex-boyfriend with whom she had broken up and had upsetted. And who still wasn’t talking to her much. Thinking about him as ‘ex’ suddenly hurt as she realised it was the first time she was referring to him as such in her head.

Marinette blinked back remorseful tears and tried ignoring the tightness in her chest to focus on the akuma again. She still needed to find where the akumatised object was, and she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way of her job.

She decided to pretend things were fine. “His name is Snowtty, we don’t know the victim but it’s a kid who was made fun of for having a runny nose after receiving a snowball in his face. Try to avoid his green spurts, they would freeze you on the spot!”

Adrien barely nodded before jumping into action, without so much as a word of acknowledgement like he would usually do. It hurt more than she would care to admit.

She knew they hadn’t talked since that evening on her balcony, but she had hoped he just needed time to process and that it wasn’t deeper than that. He had said they were still friends, hadn’t he?

Trying to ignore the sting in her eyes, she jumped after him into the fight.

“Ladybug! I see your pet has arrived to the scene as well,” Snowtty sneered. “All the better for me, I need both your miraculous after all!”

“I’m my own person, thank you very much,” Chat Noir said, none of his usual teasing in his voice. “And you won’t be getting any miraculous. Why don’t you give us your akuma instead and save everyone’s time? You’re just gonna lose like the others do, anyway.”

The akuma let out a growl of frustration and double-fired in their direction. Marinette ran for cover using her yoyo as a deflecting shield, Adrien using his baton.

He didn’t take cover with her.

She called him and was almost relieved when he picked up.

“Okay, he’s angrier than I thought he was. Any idea where the akuma could be?”

“You’re telling me you don’t?” he raised a brow. “He’s throwing his substance from that bracelet he has on his left wrist, and there aren’t any other objects.”

It seemed obvious now. But she wasn’t at the top of her game and was far too focused on her relationship with her partner than she was on the fight at hand, and she realised how detrimental it could be—not letting her personal life interfere with her duties as Ladybug was one of the rules she had promised herself to never break, yet here she was.

“Right,” she said, voice wavering. “I… Right. You’re right. Good job, Kitty.”

She regretted the nickname as soon as it left her mouth.

“‘tis nothing, Ladybug,” he shrugged. “Guess you cast your lucky charm and I distract him as usual.”

“Not yet, I need to first figure ou—” She let out a sigh as he ended the call, and turned to see him heading back straight for the akuma.

Well. The message was clear.

Throwing her yoyo angrily in the air, she called on her lucky charm. And was rewarded for her effort with an umbrella.

She wanted to scream.

She glanced up and closed her eyes, temporarily blinded by the brightness of the sun. “And it’s not even raining,” she grumbled.

She stomped away from her hiding place, only to be thrown on the ground a second after.

“Wha—”

Adrien was hovering over her and spared a glance behind towards Snowtty before standing and helping her up.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

But he ran back towards the akuma without so much as a glance in her direction. The momentary relief she felt when he saved her evaporated right away. She ran after him.

She hated how he could be upset with her in the middle of an akuma fight but still be able to focus on the task at hand. Because he was paying great care to the akuma and his surroundings and was trying to actively find a solution to put an end to the fight—something she had a harder time doing when her personal feelings were getting overwhelming. She couldn’t reproach him for that. It was just incredibly infuriating.

“Adri—Chat Noir, will you please talk to me and stop ignoring me?” Marinette exploded, frustrated. “It’s been two days and now is not the time!”

“Bold words from someone who ran away and avoided me for two days after discovering my identity,” Adrien snapped back, avoiding another blast of green.

Her heart stuttered painfully. He was right, but it made it no less hurtful to hear. She and Chat Noir had argued in the past, and while it had never been pleasant, it was something they knew how to navigate through — how to come out stronger from. She and Adrien, however? Never. She hadn’t even fathom the possibility of it ever coming up one day. Any comebacks she could have had died on her tongue, and Ladybug found herself speechless.

They both ran for cover once again behind the safety of a rooftop chimney, leaving Snowtty growling at having lost their track.

She swallowed painfully. “Listen. I know you’re hurt, I understand and you have every right to be. But we need to work together right now.”

He kicked some of the remaining snow from the roof, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t think my father would approve of that.”

She frowned. “Of what?”

“Us working togeth—” he sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, that was rude. Let’s...let’s just get back to the fight. I’ll behave.”

She grabbed his hand before he could vault away. “Wait.”

“Ladybug, I don’t think we have the time to talk or—”

“And I think it’s important that we talk now,” she said, giving him a pleading look. “Please.”

He kept eye contact with her for a few seconds before glancing hesitantly towards the city, nibbling at his lower lip. “Okay,” he finally murmured.

She involuntarily squeezed his hand in relief. He didn’t squeeze back, but he didn’t take it away either.

She hadn’t taken the time to focus on her feelings for him in the midst of her freakout about his identity; the warmth of his hand and the tips of his claws barely grazing hers and enhancing its delicacy made her realise that if anything, they had only gotten stronger.

It was painfully heartwarming.

“Are you...are you still… upset, about us, um… about me… you know…” she gestured between them.

“Breaking up with me?” He shook his head. “No. I’m hurt, yes. But that’s your right. That’s not what I’m angry about.”

“Then what…” she trailed off.

He sighed. “I thought I had made it clear, but I guess not.” He paused and kicked some more snow. “I didn’t like you telling everyone that my father forced us to break up,” he mumbled, and she had to listen carefully to pick up every word.

She blinked. “That’s… it?” She threw her hands in front of her at the glare he sent her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong… I agree it wasn’t my best excuse, but we had to find one that sounded plausible and…”

“That’s the thing, Marinette,” he said. “You decided to use my father as your excuse without asking me first.” He wrapped his arms around himself and looked to the ground. “I know my father isn’t… isn’t the best and that he can be… a little strict, but… He wouldn’t do that.”

There was a beat of silence.

“He wouldn’t do that,�� he repeated more quietly.

She didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or her; but she didn’t know Gabriel Agreste much and thus couldn’t confirm nor refute his words.

He shook his head. “But the thing is… How would you have felt if I had told everyone that...that your parents had forced us to break up?” He lifted his gaze towards her, green eyes piercing through her.

“Oh,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “Oh. I see.”

“Yeah.”

“I hadn;t...I hadn’t thought about that,” Marinette admitted.

“Well.”He sniffed, angrily wiping at his eyes. “You should have.”

She hadn’t noticed that he was on the verge of crying, but she instantly felt shame coursing through her.

He kicked the snow harder. “And the worst part is… the worst part is that… it workedI he almost spat. “They...they believed your excuse. They didn’t even doubt it, they just….” He gestured with his hands .“...Bought it as if it was obvious and that...that hurt.”

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, taking it in. She didn’t want to start the conversation now as to why it had been that easy for their friends to believe his father would do such a thing—it was something that they would have to discuss another day. A day on which he’d be more ready.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I panicked because I...I realised I hadn’t thought of a reason for our breakup. My mind was busy with something else.” She chuckled dryly with a hand gesture in the air. “But you’re right, I crossed a line and that’s not an excuse. I probably would have killed you if you had told them my parents were the reason for our breakup.”

A timid smile appeared on his lips. “Good thing it was just me, then.”

She giggled tearily. “Yeah, good thing. But still. I hope you can forgive me. I promise I’ll be more careful.”

He sighed. “You know I can’t stay mad at you for very long, Marinette. Thank you. And I apologise too. I… I probably overreacted. And I should have known better than to snap during a fight.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. But maybe now, don’t wait until there’s an akuma to talk to me. Now that we know each other’s identities, you don’t need to.”

“I think I needed time to… digest that. But you’re right, will do.”

They looked at each other, smiling shyly as an awkward silence settled between them.

“So, Ladybug,” Adrien spoke with a wobbly smile, glancing towards the lucky charm in her hands, “shall we go back to the fight so you can play Mary Poppins?”

It still wasn’t a ‘my Lady’ or a ‘Buguinette’, and there was no wink to accompany his teasing, but he was back to joking. She would take it.

“Of course.” She smiled. “But let me recharge first.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

15th of February, 25 days after the reveal

“Psssst, come here, kitty kitty! I just want to be your frien—”

Marinette groaned as the ginger cat ran away, joining a tabby cat further up the alleway.

A chuckle from behind her startled her. “Looks like you’re having cat troubles.”

She turned around to meet her partner’s cat-like eyes, and yes, she was having cat troubles, indeed.

“They don’t like me,” she just said.

Adrien seemed to search her eyes for a second or two, his expression unreadable. “You know that’s not true.”

She didn’t know if the conversation was about the cats in the street anymore, and she wasn’t sure whose fault it was. But soon after, Adrien shook his head, blond hair softly sweeping against his cheeks, and let a smile pull at his lips.

He crouched down, grabbed his belt tail and slowly moved it around.

“You need to let them come to you.”

Marinette watched the tail slither, half hypnotised by the movement, until she heard the soft tapping of his claws on the ground. His fingers drummed in a steady rhythm, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how delicate the motion was.

It seemed that some cats around agreed because, soon enough, one advanced towards him, while another had laid down and began wiggling his butt and tail, ready to pounce.

She looked back at Adrien and he was smiling widely at them, anticipating their every move and excited to see their reactions. He looked so happy, so carefree and her heart did a somersault at the sight — she knew that she shouldn’t think like this, but she wished she had been the one he was looking at. She wished she could be one of these kittens, ready to tackle him to the ground, so they could fall in a heap of laughter together. So they could suddenly stop, and gaze into each other’s eyes, getting lost in each other, and maybe, just maybe, lean a little bit closer and ki—

“Wow.” Adrien’s loud laughter shook her out of her reverie. “No need to bite me, little one!”

While a small grey cat had attacked his tail and was nibbling at it, rolling on the floor, another one was more focused on his hand.

The white one with blue eyes.

“Careful,” she told him, “that one’s nasty.”

Adrien continued to play with the cat, moving a finger around and hovering it above his nose that the kitten tried to take a mouthful of.

“What? Why do you say that?”

“Well, he bit you. And earlier, he scratched me. Good thing my suit could protect me or my arms would have been covered in blood,” she informed.

Adrien smiled. “That doesn’t make him nasty.”

She spluttered. “Wha—? How—of course it does! He’s a mean cat, trust me on this! All white cats with blue eyes are!”

He chuckled, giving him a fond look the kitten didn’t deserve. “Good thing I’m a black cat, then.”

She shuddered.

“And he’s not mean,” he went on, “he’s broken.”

Marinette frowned. “What do you mean, ‘broken’?”

Somehow, Adrien had managed to pet the cat on the head, making him let out a contented meow. “Cats who have been abandoned or rejected by their mother too young tend to be more aggressive,” he explained, a pained smile she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “They scratch and bite a lot because in a way, they’re kind of lost.”

He took him in his arms and kissed his nose, to which the cat answered with a small ‘meow’. Staying close to his face, he scratched under his chin that the cat was exposing happily to him as a sign of complete trust. Adrien’s smile melted when a purr rumbled out of the kitten, and Marinette hung on it with both fascination and envy.

He let out a breathy chuckle. “See? He just needs someone to show him they care.”

“Show him they care,” she repeated dumbly. She could do that. She coul— “What if...what if it still doesn’t change anything?”

Adrien’s gaze left the kitten to turn to her. “What do you mean?”

“What if...What if even if someone cares about him, and cares about him so much they would sacrifice their own happiness for him if it came to it, and shows him everyday and tells him everyday but he still…” She stopped, fumbling with her words for a second. “...He still keeps biting and scratching and feeling lost and alone a-and no one can save him?” She lifted her eyes to his, only to find her vision blurry.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?” Adrien breathed.

“M-maybe, this cat is doomed from the start. Maybe he’ll be like that forever, no matter what and maybe they’ll all be like that and—”

“My Lady,” a hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her from spiralling further—and here it was, the ‘my Lady ‘she’d been craving for so much, at the most unexpected time. “That’s stupid. I’m not sure if it’s about cats anymore,” he chuckled, “but I’ll pretend it is.”

She blinked back tears. He kept on, “Yes, some of these hurt cats never change. But not all of them! You can never really know what will happen, how they’ll evolve, because they’re all different, and they’ll all live different lives.”

He smiled at her, his delicate hand never leaving her shoulder, while the other continued petting the purring white kitten. “We can’t guess what will happen to them. All we can do is try, and take the risk. And maybe the owners of this lovely kitty will be lucky and have a loving ball of fur”— he bopped the cat’s nose who in turn let out a small ‘meow’— “or they’ll be less lucky and have a little monster that—ouch,” he said, as the cat chased his bopping finger to bite it, “bite them from time to time but still would be worth caring for.” He sighed a chuckle.

Marinette swallowed, taking it in. “So you mean that… the future of this cat isn’t… set in stone?” she asked carefully.

“Of course not! No one can know what he’ll grow into now, it will depend on a lot of factors.” He took his hand off her shoulder to lift the cat off his lap and nuzzle his nose with his. “Isn’t that right, little one? You’ll be a good kitty, won’t you?”

She let a smile pull at her lips at the sight. Adrien turned to face her with a big goofy grin on his face.

“If our future was written in our DNA, we’d have known all about our futures a long time ago,” he chuckled.

She let his words sink in, closing her eyes. What if...what if.

What if their love wouldn’t destroy the world, this time.

But what if it did again.

...But what if it didn’t?

She heaved a sigh, releasing some of the tension that had been weighing down on her. When she opened her eyes, it was to see that Adrien was back to playing with the kitten.

“And what are we gonna call you, hm? Ooooh, I know! See, I’m Chat Noir, so that would make you Chat Bla—”

“—FLOCON!” Marinette interrupted him.

He blinked at her. “Chat Flocon?”

“No, just...just Flocon. He’s white as snow, and fluffy like a snowflake, so it makes sense. And,” she added after a beat, “it’s cute.”

And it reminded her of that date they shared, just before revealing their identities, strolling through a snowy Paris. It was a memory she cherished, even if it didn’t end quite well.

Adrien grinned. “Okay. Flocon it is.” He scratched the cat’s chin, who purred in turn and tried to bite his finger again. “No,” he told him, “I said no biting, you thickhead.”

She could watch him bicker with a kitten for hours, she thought.

“Hey, Buguinette,” he called out to her, pulling her out of her momentary reverie, “you wanna hold Flocon?”

She blinked. “Errr… I don’t know if that's a good idea or…”

He laughed. “He’s not that aggressive. It’s up to you; but if you want to try befriending him again…” He held a half-wiggling and meowing Flocon in the air towards her.

Marinette bit her lip, and took a deep breath. Maybe it was a bad idea to cave, but... “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll give him a try.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

26th of April, 95 days after the reveal

“Adrien, aren’t you gonna snap her in half?” Alya asked with incredulous eyes.

It made both him and Marinette giggle. “It’s like she doesn’t know that you’re usually the one snapping me in half between the two of us,” Adrien whispered in her ear, which made her laugh harder. “She said she wanted to!” he told Alya louder.

“Yes, Alya,” Marinette added, “I’m a strong girl and I can carry him! Right, Adrien?”

“Right!” he replied enthusiastically, clinging harder on her back.

He wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he was too busy feeling lighthearted and free on this spring afternoon. It was the first warm day of the year, with only a slightly chilly breeze coming to ruffle his hair at times that only contributed in increasing his giddiness. For the fifth time this day, he thanked the star that made his father allow him to go out to the temporary funfair with his friends—though he thought they were studiously working on a school project.

“It’s not because you can carry him that you should,” Nino said, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re just jealous because Alya isn’t carrying you.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Let’s ride to the moon and back!”

“To the moon and back!” Adrien repeated, one hand raised in the air.

Marinette let out a warrior cry before attempting to run, albeit slowly because of his weight, and he could tell they wouldn’t go far as he already felt himself slide down and her grip on his legs slacken.

He should have known they’d fall face first before she got too exhausted. If he had, maybe he’d have had the time to react and avoid it.

As it was, he just found himself on top of Marinette on the ground. He lifted himself up and sat down, Marinette soon doing the same.

Distantly, he heard Alya and Nino running towards them shouting “are you okay”s and “are you hurt”s at profusion, but he didn’t pay them any mind as Marinette looked up at him with eyes glinting with mirth and they both fell in a heap of laughters.

Some passersby looked at them funnily while others whispered some “that must hurt”s or “everything alright?”s to them.

“It’s okay,” Adrien told them. “We’ve had it worse!”

“Yes,” Marinette chimed in. “One time we were thrown by an akuma—”

“—A big tuna," he quickly corrected.

“—a big tuna, he’s right,” she repeated, “and we both fell right into a moving bus, and we survived!”

“And you find that funny,” Nino deadpanned, putting his hands on his hips as Adrien helped Marinette up.

Adrien just grinned at him. “Yup! We’re the survivors.”

“And we’re gonna make it!” Marinette sang.

“You’re insufferable,” Alya chuckled. “The both of you. I don’t know how you two can be more unhinged than me with Marinette, but—”

“—That’s because we’re exes besties,” Adrien chirped. Despite the months that had passed, it always hurt a little to call each other “exes”. But he had long since learned that laughing at his suffering was better than crying over it. He just wondered when and if he’ll ever be over her one day. He probably never really would.

“Hey,” Nino said indignantly. “But you’re my best friend!”

“Maybe, but are you also exes, hm?” Marinette asked him. “Because we are, and it makes us the unstoppable exes besties! And now, our next stop will be…” She jumped on Adrien’s back without warning and he caught her with a ‘oof’. “...to that splashing boat attraction over there!”

“Dudes, you already fell once, what are you doing?”

“We’re getting back up, Nino, and we try again,” she announced proudly, raising her fist up. “Let’s go to the boat, Adrien, and may our ship sail! Go, go, go!”

Adrien faintly heard a ‘they’re beyond help’ from Alya as he ran towards the attraction, both his and Marinette’s laughters echoing in the wind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Adrien landed with a grunt on the pavement. The suit was a good protector, but it didn’t stop his back from hurting from the impact with the ground. This akuma — Firebender as he called himself — truly was more violent than usual.

“Wow,” he managed to breath between two gasps, “you’re on fire today!”

He tried to push himself up with an arm, and raised his head towards Firebender with a half-closed eye. The fireball he saw coming towards him arrived so fast that he didn’t even have the time to do so much as widening his eyes. An anguish cry was the last thing he heard before it faded and he saw nothing at all.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Marinette realised she was screaming when she felt her lungs were empty.

Usually, when an akuma took lives, the victims just disappeared into thin air, as if they had never been. They weren’t lying there, unmoving on the pavement like Adrien was. Somehow, seeing was worse than not.

She felt dizzy, as if everything around her was moving in slow motion. She staggered, trying to turn her head away from the sight of her unresponsive partner who was becoming blurrier and blurrier the longer she looked at him. She needed to breathe, she needed to—

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” she screeched instead, the sound reverberating into the street, bouncing from building to building.

She took a ragged breath, and another, closing her eyes as she took in the dead silence that greeted her scream.

She swallowed her first sob and squeezed her eyes tight shut, taking yet another heavy breath. She turned towards the akuma before opening her eyes, otherwise she knew she wouldn’t be able to tear her gaze away from Adrien’s dead form. She gritted her teeth as soon as the thought of him being gone entered her mind again.

“You’re a monster,” she spat, low and cold, the last word echoing through the silence and carrying her voice to Firebender’s ears — to Hawkmoth’s.

All these days worrying over the possibility of a devastating future she had seen, all this time doing everything she could to avoid it no matter how little she knew of it, and she hadn’t considered the possibilities she hadn’t been a witness of. All these days flirting with the line between caving and resisting only for her regretful indecision to hit her in the most cruel way.

“Give up, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth spoke through Firebender, “you no longer have your pet. All you have to do is surrender your miracu—”

“And what?” she spat. “Let my partner die? Listen to me, Hawkmoth. I have a chance to save him, and for that I need to defeat you. You think I’m stupid? I’m not giving up on Paris. I’m not giving up on him!”

And I’m not giving up on us, she told herself.

“Lucky charm!” she roared, rage and determination coursing through her veins.

She knew nothing about how Chat Blanc had really happened, she realised, catching the spotted chain falling from above. Nothing about her current future, as she scanned her surroundings for a solution. Nothing but the crushing weight of the present and her fear of the unknown, as she opened her yoyo to retrieve the dragon miraculous and put it around her neck.

“Tikki, Longg, unify!”

As she surrounded herself with water and ran towards Firebender with only one goal in mind, she promised herself to never let the gifts the present gives her slide in favour of hypothetical futuristic tragedies. She was finally done running away and sacrificing her life to her fears.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Light suddenly flooded Adrien’s vision as he took a sharp and deep intake of breath. His lungs were burning with the sudden air filling them up, and he squinted his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He groggily lifted himself up on his elbows when—

“Chaton!”

—a red blur threw herself at him. He caught her, her hair in his nose and her warm breath and hot tears in his neck.

He let her sob and squeeze him as understanding washed over him. He gently threaded his clawed fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp, noticing absent-mindedly that she was also wearing the dragon miraculous.

She slowly detangled herself from him but stayed close, looking into his eyes through her wet ones and caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“Kitty,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “my Kitty.”

He didn’t have the time to react before her lips were on his and she took her time to savour him before ever so slowly pulling away. He let her do.

She didn’t stop there. Gently cradling his face in her trembling hands, she kissed his cheek. And his other cheek. And his forehead. His nose. His jaw. Puncturing each of her kisses with whispers of “mon Chaton”, or “Kitty”, or “my love”, to which his heart made a somersault at, before diving for his neck.

Each time he kept on letting her do, keeping her close to him as she sobbed through her kisses and yet another nickname for him.

He could feel her breathing him in; so, with his nose in her hair, he inhaled her scent too. Her hot breath left his neck once again, and she came back for his lips.

This time, he kissed her back, and as soon as his lips moved against hers, she choked on a sobbed whine and pushed her mouth closer to his, if that was even possible

He hadn’t forgotten the taste of her lips on his, even after all these months; but he also knew their kisses had never burnt so intensely, driven by despair, the need to memorise the present and the aroma of being alive.

───※ ·❆· ※───

1st of June, 131 days after the reveal

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

Marinette smiled sadly. “Oh, I don’t know. Hurting you. Putting us through this mess. Not telling you about Chat Blanc. Take your pick.”

She let her arms rest on the railing of the bridge, looking across the Seine. The clouds were getting darker and darker, though a sunray pierced through one of them, lighting up a few buildings on the shore in a powerful atmosphere. Her eyes followed a barge floating further and further away, waiting for the moment it would cross the ray of light.

“You’ve been hurting too,” Adrien said after a few seconds. “You’ve been shouldering it all on your own. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

His hand slid into hers and she welcomed it, intertwining her fingers timidly with his. She glanced at him with a tentative smile and he smiled back, looking at her with soft eyes. She looked back towards the Seine just in time to see the barge slicing through the sunbeam.

“Still. Maybe, if I had told you… if I hadn’t let my fears get the best of me…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“And maybe,” Adrien spoke when it was clear she wouldn’t add something more, squeezing her hand once, “if you had told me earlier, I would have given up Chat Noir.”

She gasped and turned to him, but he was looking at the Seine with saddened eyes.

“What do you mean?” she breathed.

“I’m not sure I’d have been able to handle hearing that I could destroy the world as an akuma,” he whispered, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb as if to reassure her. “It’s… really hard already, but I feel like it would’ve been worse before.”

He turned his head towards her again and she held his gaze, gripping his hand harder as if to dare him to leave.

“You said it yourself,” he went on, “just like we have no idea about what the future can really hold, we can’t know how things would have played out if we had done things differently. What really matters right now is what you want us to be from now on.”

She searched his expectant eyes for a few seconds before looking back at the Seine. A tourist boat coming towards them had replaced the barge in the sunspot before the window of clouds closed on the light, leaving only a dark atmosphere in its place. The clouds grew darker and a warm gust had picked up, making their hair fly in every direction and their clothes ruffling in a frenzy. Marinette felt her emotions growing with the wind, begging to be said and to explode.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and feeling the wind coursing through her as she gathered her thoughts, and opened them again.

“I love you, Adrien,” she spoke, her declaration followed by a distant rumble in the sky. “I love you so, so much. Discovering that you were Chat Noir, once I took it all in… it was the best thing in the world, but also the worst.”

She faced away from the Seine to face him instead and take both his hands in hers, gripping them as tight as she could to ground herself as she felt a flow of tears coming in.

“It made me fall in love with you so much more it hurt, but I knew I couldn’t be with you or I knew I shouldn’t because…” She paused, taking ragged breaths. “...Because it wouldn’t be responsible. Because we’re superheroes and because I had this warning with Chat Blanc, and as the guardian it’s my role to keep us grounded and to do the right thing.”

A lighting bolt pierced through the sky, accompanied by a loud thunderstrike a few seconds later. Adrien was looking at her with a pain in his eyes that she knew meant he was hurting for her and not him.

“But I don’t want to do the right thing this time,” she murmured, as she felt a first drop of water slide down her cheek. “I’m tired of doing what’s supposedly right. Not when...not when we’re both hurting so much that it feels like it’s more dangerous to stay this way instead of just… giving in.”

At this point, she didn’t know who out of her and Adrien were gripping the other’s hands the tightest. She felt more and more raindrops falling on her face and clothes. She didn’t know if the water in his eyes were because he was tearing up or not.

“So maybe our love destroyed the world, once,” she continued, “but I think there’s enough far more damaging hate in this world; and ever since these akuma attacks started, what saved it is our love — for Paris, for our family and friends… and for each other.”

Adrien’s eyes now held a glint of adoration. His now damped hair was sticking to his face while some strands curled with the water. She supposed hers wasn’t faring much better.

“So to answer your question,” she swallowed a sob, “I want us to be together… if you’ll have me.”

Lightning ripped through the sky accompanied by deafening thunder as Adrien pulled her into a crushing hug. She put her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her and let the flow of her tears finally mix with the rain on her cheeks.

“Marinette,” he whispered, voice wavering and lips barely touching her ear, “I love you, of course I’ll have you. I’ll always have you.”

The rain fell even harder as they hugged closer and cried, soaking them, yet they couldn’t care less. Their clothes were sticking to their bodies, growing more and more uncomfortable, which was worsened by them being in each other’s arms, but Marinette hadn’t felt so good in a long time.

She suddenly pulled away from the hug and cradled his head between her hands. He took her face in his and they stayed closed, forehead against forehead, breathing each other in. Another rumbled resounded and Marinette’s last resolve snapped with it—she brought her lips to his and kissed him.

He responded in kind, and she drank him in and pressed her mouth closer as she felt him doing the same. She should care about the rain falling and the thunder rumbling, but the battering of the elements were just making her feel freer, finally allowing her to get away from all her self restraints.

She sighed against Adrien’s lips as they kept coming back for more. They kissed their reunion, the relief of finding each other again, at last—unlike when he had come back from the dead earlier, these kisses tasted of the promise of more to come, because they knew they would stay together this time.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h45 after the reveal

“Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”

What was going on. What was going on.

“We’re fine,” the lie rolled out of her tongue easily. “Really.”

Alya raised a brow. “Adrien?”

She saw him smiling from the corner of her eyes. He was a much better actor than her—always had been.

“It’s nothing. It’s… we just… we’re working on it.”

...And much more honest than she was, be it with his feelings or with his heart. Always had been.

“Well,” Nino said, “I hope it’s not too big of a deal and that you’ll get over it soon. You guys are the cutest out there.”

Marinette smiled painfully. She glanced at Adrien who was looking at her with soft eyes that she didn’t deserve considering her reaction, and she felt his warm hand timidly covering hers.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I have hopes we will. We always do.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, one year after the reveal

“You’re heavy,” Adrien gasped.

“That’s a rude thing to say to a lady,” Marinette commented from atop him, head resting on the arms she had folded on his chest. “And even more so to your girlfriend.”

He groaned and attempted to lift himself up. Fail. She was grinning at him and he pouted in fake-annoyance. “Not when said girlfriend is purposefully putting all her weight on you! I can’t breath!”

Marinette giggled and pressed herself further on him to which he let out a choked whimper, before pushing away from him after a few seconds, ending his suffocation.

“I could report you for attempting murder, you know,” he threatened with a finger. “‘Ladybug slips into teenage model Adrien Agreste’s room and proceeds to suffocate him’, now that would make the newspapers talk for months.”

She laughed and came back to hover over him. “‘And Adrien asked her to do it again’,” she smirked, and she bent down to peck his lips.

He couldn’t even argue with that.

He discreetly brought his hand close to where his head was lying to grab a pillow. When she pushed herself up and sat next to him, he quickly hit her head with it.

She gasped, betrayed and that sent him into a fit of laughter. She glared at him playfully, grabbed his other pillow, and swatted him way harder than he had.

“You’re dead, Kitty! You hear me?” she said, trying and failing not to laugh. “You’ve just signed your death contract!”

“No, my Lady, please I’m just a defenseless citizen!”

“I’ll knock you out with my yo-yo!” she threatened.

They fought again for a few minutes before stopping, Adrien breathless but Marinette only slightly out of breath due to being transformed.

“I hope your father won’t come in,” Marinette said.

“Don’t worry, if he or Nathalie come, you’ll just say you’re investigating here because, uh...because you suspect me of being Hawkmoth!”

She laughed. “Kitty, that’s such a stupid idea.”

“Why not?” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows. “After all, I do disappear during every akuma attack.”

Marinette smiled and crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he steadied her with his hands on her hips. They lost themselves into each other’s eyes, faces close but not close enough to exactly touch.

“Then,” she murmured against his lips, and he felt his cheeks heating up. “I’ve come to seduce my enemy. Is it working?”

“I’d rather be your partner if that’s okay,” he whispered.

“Yes, but is it working Adrien?”

He chuckled—she didn’t even need to try, he’d always been too far gone when it came to her. “A bit too much.”

He kissed the proud and satisfied giggle from her lips.

#ml fanfic #miraculous #adrinette #ladynoir #identity reveal #pre-reveal post-relationship #but then #post-reveal pre-relationship #yes I made it both okay #breakup & getting back together #angst & fluff #happy ending #mention of chat blanc #hurt/comfort #temporary character death #but like it doesn't last long okay it's just an Akuma thing #myshitwriting

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

Note

hi different anon here! but what if spencer had to take a mandatory arts class of some kind for his degree (i don’t know how caltech or phd courses work but we’re going to ignore that) and he’s getting super frustrated because he’s so good at all of his other academic classes but he just! can’t! figure! out! the arts!!! but then reader is in the same class as him and notices that he’s struggling so they offer to help him out?

it’s kind of a role reversal of the usual spencer-tutors-reader in college (because he’s a genius so it’s an obvious [and very good!] dynamic)

and bonus points if it’s a pottery class and they have a “ghost” moment 🙈🙈 (reader is obv patrick swayze 🤤) but make it any medium you want! or even a music class!! up to you my dear <3

ok for some reason i immedaitely thought of finger painting but. have decided against that

idk how art classes work either but if it’s anything like art was in school then you’re kind of left to you own devices? so let’s go with that. it’s fiction babey!

this was meant to be headcanons/random concepts but turned in a messy blurb so it’s under read more

he loves art and isn’t so bummed out that he has to take the class because - again - he likes it But the issue is he likes Looking at it, Not creating it. he’s got jiggly hands that squirm and twitch without his consent constantly and that doesn’t bode well for drawing fine details and intricate patterns, so he’s hoping because it’s an introductory course it’ll be. maybe more theory than anything else? or at least just basic tools and mediums so he can struggle through with a grimace from the professor

he ends up with /oil/ paints though and he’s looking from the bowl of fruit to his easel to thr OIL PAINTS and derek is there, in spirit, going hahahaha good luck pretty boy! and spencer Could ask to change the type of paint he’s using but he’s awkward and so. grits his teeth and goes. alrighty this is it this is life im using oil paints, something notoriously difficult for a beginner, which is what i am, a beginner, and i am now putting these expensive paints to this expensive easel with my inexperienced hands-

and you’ve been watching him since he stepped in, because he’s pretty, and now you’re grimacing cause Oh Boy he does not know what he’s doing and he’s. he’s breaking the paintbrushes. you can hear the bristles cracking from across the room.

spencer would’ve noticed you if he wasn’t so Humiliated (he, too, easily notices pretty people) so when you creep up behind him and say, “oil paints are difficult, aren’t they?” in this understanding voice that he follows with his head, his first thought is- oh, so to top it all off a piece of art has come to life? this is where we are now?

he does that thing where he forces out a little breath along with a small smile and goes, “ah, yeah. i didn’t want to ask for something else, so,” and weakly lifts the palette in his hand as if to say, it is what it is.

“i could help, if you’d like?”

and he agrees cause he’s eager to learn! and you, a masterful artistic genius, blow him away with not only your knowledge (you’re into the theory kind of stuff too and at one point he jolts himself, realises he was staring at you with his mouth open, and deeeeep down wishes someone would think of him the way he thinks of you when you ramble) but your actual skills too! and you’re a great teacher! patient, understanding, and did he say patient? because he has painted a damn sky at least 15 times and every time he Somehow makes clouds look phallic and you just go hehe :) and he’s like I love u (internally)

several weeks in, when you and spencer have become arty friends, the subject turns to drawing people rather than objects - you tell him getting people /right/ is something you struggle with yet you love doodling your friends and family in your sketchbook. the first body spencer draws (that isn’t a stick man) is done in crayons, which he’s found is the medium that works best for him (only when the crayon is properly wrapped. because the waxy feel of them Freaks him out)

you help him learn about drawing anatomy while he tells you /about/ anatomy, he attempts to sketch a hand and it’s so odd looking he laughs so hard he CRIES and you finally convince him to try charcoal, your personal favourite

it’s messy and gets everywhere (spencer opens his mouth to complain about his expensive grey cardigan but then- the little mark is a physical representation of this memory between you and him, huddled close together as you both draw aimlessly in your sketchbook, and the mark feels more like a blessing) but spencer ends up agreeing that charcoal sketches look the best.

then he sees something he shouldn’t have.

you’re talking about how you sketch your family all the time - there’s several of your roommates and your pets and a sheep u saw this one time - then there’s...someone oddly familiar? that he catches a glimpse of? and before he can think he goes “wait-“ opens that page and it’s him. him, standing too close to an easel with his tongue slightly poking out in concentration and it’s a charcoal sketch of him from last week.

you’re embarrassed. “that’s weird, im sorry-“

“you make me look good” he tells you, smiling sweetly, and you’re convinced it’s just to comfort you but you’re too glad he isn’t filing a restraining order you let it slide

i mean. have you seen his face? how can anyone look at that and not want to start chiselling marble?

then he gets secretive, weird, a little odd and definitely is avoiding you. he paints and draws with his back to you, still talks to you but over his shoulder and can never really look you in the eyes. you think this is it and that the sweetheart you’ve come to see as more than a friend is Done with you, because you’re a CREEP, and then after a weekend of silence on his end this happens:

while you’re getting your stuff ready, he walks up silently and slides a small sketchbook in front of you. you stare at it, wondering what it’s for, and he nods at it and tells you to open it. when you go to, he stops you-

“a-actually, let me give you a page to start on-“

when he manhandles the book his hands brush yours, his already bright red cheeks get redder, and you bite your tongue so you don’t sigh dreamily.

he’s drawn you.

it’s not perfect and kind of not pretty - a lot of harsh edges and weird shading - but you can tell its you. it’s you, drawn by him, probably from memory, and he’s drawn little hearts around your head because he’s the cutest? evidently?

“it’s really bad, but i thought-“ you look directly at him, making him freeze. he’s got a little charcoal just under his eye. unabashedly, you reach up and wipe it away, hand remaining at the side of his face when you’re done. “i thought you deserve to feel how i felt when you drew me.”

“and how did you feel?”

he gulps. “loved.”

all you can do in the Classroom you’re in is beam sickeningly sweet at one another, lost in your own world while there’s a wordless exchange. the rest of the sketchbook is full of half attempts at sketching you - in different positions, with different expressions, some with a full head while others are half a face. some of them are hilarious, but they’re all made with the purest intentions. “i love it.”

and when you share a look then, you don’t need to verbally say what comes next just yet.

(and. yes. the second you see a pottery class is available you drag him and Make him sit between your legs and he’s never blushed so much in his life the teacher asks if he needs air. at one point you think it’d be funny to peck his neck and the shiver it sends through him is so shocking your mould on the wheel is squished between his hands)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #ask #long post #this was supposed to be short #and turned into this shit thing #that's why it feels rushed (more rushed than usual)

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bimbosupreme · 3 years ago

Text

mephistopheles love post

the equivalent of a mental breakdown tangent is all going under a read more

yes believe it or not that freaky ass literally not even human clown in fgo gets love, and love from who? me and like 3 other people

first off

ok and with that out of the way,

i’m not even familiar with their lore. Reason why i stopped caring about the lore behind faust and mephistopheles is that an interlude happens that shows that mephistopheles is just some homunculi made by some mage nobody named faust. and even then the interlude doesn’t talk about the lore behind the novel, its just you helping mephy kill faust

that being said though i would hope the developers expand on their origins more and potentially even release a “true” mephistopheles (a girl can dream)

So, they’re not even the real deal demon known as Mephistopheles in the first place, and i can hear u going “well that’s lame” and like, no, we just need to redirect our feelings from appreciating a demon to appreciating a homunculi who has a weird characterization in the fate universe

Design tangent:

Fgo was actually my first gacha, and so when I came across this servant I kinda instantly fell in love with their design, I love the colors used in their final ascension and overall appearance. The hat that has horns but they're not quite horns, theyre these weird colorful pointy twisty things, the large garish butterfly ornament on their chest (which isnt ugly at all and somehow works so well with their everything on them) is cool, the tights are so cool to look at, i mean look -- a checkered pattern with golden lining on the shorts portion, the tits out look like yes we get it youre insane, the gloves??? purple and also cool, plus theyve got this gradient thing going on? and the fingers have this line going through them, thats so cool. actually the only other servant that comes close to this in terms of “out there” colorful designs is probably final ascension kama and qsh ( i love them both). Also, mephy has this scissor weapon?? thats so cool lol i dont see any other servant wielding giant scissors (for the love of god give mephy an animation update i need to see them use the scissors while doing flips) and they also have this bomb obsession going on? cant relate, but the bombs designs are so so cool i mean its a fucking centipede -- no idea if centipedes are a thing in the original faust but thats something Ill have to look up at some point. ALSO mephy is wearing heels oh my god anytime people wear heels is an automatic win. No clue whats going on with the hair but its kinda cute (dont question me on that) and it has curls and the hair colors are cool i mean its like a lavender thing with darker purple highlights? i love colorful things and i love people with wacky personalities so. Oh my god their tail how could i forget that its so cute and dumb i almost forgot it was there, like what is that even a whip? i dont.. but its got these little purple tips to them that are kinda cute/cool but more cool because tails are fucking up there alongside heels in terms of cool stuff on characters. and of course their fluffly cape -- again no idea what the designers were going for i mean look its a mess of a design i have no fucking idea what any of it means and i hope they explain it someday because that hair and the butterfly and the tail and the hat and the fluffy garb and a bomb obsession?? and this got the go ahead - yeah lets add that to the game like what

ALSO LETS TALK ABOUT THEIR EYES

appreciate these with me for a second

god.

oh and the blue lipstick and face paint god thats a cool design ugh

they can be normal too or at least as normal as possible i mean they even trimmed their eyebrow here lol but you can see the not so well hidden insanity/goofiness peaking through with the inside of the suit at the bottom being highlighter purple and a green shirt with gold accents underneath the black coat at the front <3, fuckin hate that hairstyle tho bro we gotta get that middle part hairstyle outta hereeeee--

TAKE A DETOUR AND LOOK AT THIS LINK THOUGH THIS IS THE MOST NORMAL AND BEST IVE SEEN THEM IN FANART. THE POTENTIAL IS THERE. WE CAN HAVE NICE THINGS AND THEY LOOK GREAT ITS POSSIBLE. I HAVE TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE FROM THAT DRAWING.

anyways this is me going off all about why i like their design! but we haven’t even touched the nitty gritty of it all. their personality! what personality you may ask? havent they always been some weirdo laughing a lot and saying dumb shit all the time? well yes and no

Characterization:

True to their dumb little clown design mephy also acts like one.

Some servants bond 1 lines are like “fuck off” and some actually talk to you, nah this bastard mephistopheles’ just laughing. and for the second bond line it seems to imply theyre fuckin with you more (showing up and dissapearing and saying ‘afterimage’) so thats nice that theyre actually making some effort to mess with you in a way? some servants take a long time to actually interact with you so this shows theyre not afraid of interacting with you and thats just at bond 2. and of course the third bond line implies they were probably trying to betray you, its stated in more than 1 place that mephistopheles (actually isnt this a caster class thing?) will betray you or attempt to do so. So the third bond line seems to imply that their attempts have been stopped by you and that’s what they say after some failed attempts. So after stopping this freak from doing some shit their next bond line is actually doing a confession! a jester being honest who couldve seen that one coming but theyre 100% not lying, they really arent a demon but a homunculi made by faust

speaking of faust we’re going to backtrack a little into their interlude that i brought up at the start of this post, its one of those dream interludes and it starts with mephy asking you to help him plant bombs for their eventual reuinion/showdown with faust -- in the meantime faust keeps sending golems in an attempt to kill both you and mephy

When you track faust down, it’s shown that faust was your typical mage, inhumane and uncaring. It’s also pointed out that this faust killed innocents, but this typical mage behavior is boring to mephy, and they say that boring typical behavior is why they wanted to kill them

so i really cant blame mephistopheles for being the way they are, being raised by this type of guy, even if mephy was always messed up and wacky from the beginning its no reason for faust to attempt to kill him.

Mephistopheles also shows up in salem, cu alter’s interlude, and of course the knk crossover event, and some other things im most likely forgetting but those 3 are ones that i find notable

anytime they show up theyre actually helpful, in salem mephy points out that the nature of the being responsible for the salem epic of remnant is something alien rather than a typical foreign god, mephy also tells you that time is also being sped up and in their weird way they try to cheer you up by spouting some nonsense at the beginning (guda needed some kind of distraction from the grim events that had just transpired at that point in the story), i cant quite remember what mephy did in the knk event but they were a part of your group and were helpful the whole time, actually @/zeravmeta does an amazing analysis of their role in the knk event as well as some extra character analysis here

mephistopheles is kinda cryptic in a weird way though,

like overall i mean theyre a jester homunculi in appearance so yeah its to be expected but come on i love morally gray characters, despite their supposed betrayal hints scattered around here and there

they have this one line that always gets to me

and this line is said with a completely serious face too

the rare serious mephistopheles face! its kinda grim to see that line, no laughs, no nothing, their voice is kinda serious and monotone too. of course this could be just to get you to lower your guard but its still kinda out there that they have this rarely used portrait and that line, so i like to take it as being said to you when youre by yourself and with sincerity

and at least sei (with her wacky outfit and all lol) seems to get along with mephy and thinks theyre nice woohoo

so at the end of the day you have this guy that laughs a lot and gives mixed signals

and they fuck with you

and will most likely try to kill you more than once but hey thats just another tuesday at chaldea

Before I finish last thing I want to point out is this snippet from the fgo source material book which provides more information on servants, and this specific translated bit under mephistopheles

at the core of it all this homunculi....can be your friend! you just need to not go into despair i guess

of course this entire post is an overanalysis into an underwritten character, quarantine + all online college classes have done this to me, i have a douman icon what did you expect

OH...BEFORE I REALLY SIGN OFF AND FINISH THE POST HEY CLOWN LOVERS CHECK OUT THESE FANARTS AND FANARTISTS...

THE FIRST ONE IS HASENDOW YES THE DOUMAN DESIGNER... <3

i cant believe they drew mephy

twice !

and for those of you on twitter check out @cuz_pb and @L0VEYAMA003

#mephistopheles #fgo #i just go off on the various things i like about this clown #a whole lot lol #this started bc someone asked about my thoughts on mephistopheles well..

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crescentsteel · 4 years ago

Text

Imagination

plot: Halloween with Kiyoomi Sakusa genre: fluff, crack warnings: sorta creepy wc: 6.3k (went a bit overboard sorry lol)

A/N: - This is collab from our server @babythotshq. See others spoofy stories from our server here. - I’m posting another halloween fic later, sum Semi fluff. lmk if u wanna be tagged - Thank you so much @newfriendjen for the betaread and @aomineavenue for that idea u gave me ehe - Sakusa brainrot

Nothing beats the spirit of Halloween, the best holiday ever invented. Ghost stories, people in costumes, haunted houses, scary movies, everything about this holiday — you love and welcome them all. Last year, your Halloween adventure was you and your friends trying to make a documentary (actually it was just you hogging the camera and tripping your friends that you’re seeing apparitions) in an abandoned building.

But the highlight of that Halloween wasn’t that. It was meeting Sakusa. Albeit how sweet that sounds, the whole of it was honestly ridiculous.

A year ago, you and your coworkers agreed to join the Halloween party at the club near your office. You drew lots on what will be the theme of each person’s costume in the office. The person whose costume fits their theme the most gets a prize. When you got “something unexpected” at the draw, you were thrilled at all the possibilities your imagination could think of.

But then work fucked you up until you barely had any time left. You only had less than 48 hours to come up with an award-winning costume. As you’re scrunching for your work deadlines, you look around for possible costume inspirations. And voila, your eyes landed on that certain object near your monitor.

You laughed your head off when you pictured what you’d look like.

At the club at the night of the Halloween party, it was expected to have most people in costume. No one gave anyone a second look for being all dressed up.

Except for you.

When you entered the bar, people were staring. You made your way to your colleagues, uttering your excuse mes and sorrys to the people you bumped. Once your officemates saw you, they guffawed simultaneously. You were wearing white boots, surgical , a light blue long-sleeve top, and black short shorts. On top of the long-sleeve top and shorts was a white box hanging inches just below your thighs which made it look like a box dress. Printed on the front of the box dress was “GERMINATOR. Kill 99.9% germs” complete with its logo. At the back of it was the product’s information. It even had an improvised pump on your head. On your bare thighs was a holster holding sanitizers instead of guns.

You twirled in front of your colleagues and they all gave you a round of applause.

You were so stressed out with work that you drank your heart out before the party even began to reach its peak. Your nearing drunk ass was letting loose when your back collided with someone and you nearly tripped.

It was a guy with white streaks on his hair that was held up by gel or wax. He gasped as he took in your appearance. “Miss! Please come with me.” The guy didn’t really give you a choice when he grabbed your wrist and dragged your tipsy self to wherever.

“Omi-kun! I brought you someone.” He said while he hid you behind him.

“Really, Bo-kun? You think he’d be interested in anyone from here?” You heard someone say despite the noise. The guy who just hauled you there moved away to reveal that certain someone, aka you. You went with the flow and gave them a curtsy while your vision started to sway a bit.

You easily distinguished who he’s with since they’re all wearing the same yellow jacket. “What are you s’ppsed to be? A boy band or somethin?” you asked but no one answered.

You are met with different reactions. Two of them dropped their jaws. One had a wide smile on his face, obviously proud of finding you. Then, there was this guy you couldn’t make out because he was wearing a face mask. After recovering from their shock, the three men looked at the one who wore a face mask.

The guy with white streaks turned to you and said, “I’m Bokuto,” referring to himself. “That’s Hinata,” he pointed out to the shortest guy in orange hair. “Miya, “ the blonde one said, then grabs the face masked-guy who has a stiff frown on his half-visible face. “And this,” he pushed the face-mask man in front of you, “is Sakusa.” Everyone looked so entertained and so amused, except for the one directly in front of you. But you don’t acknowledge the somber aura coming from him. You like being the source of entertainment, especially for this event.

“Oh you unsanitary boys! You can call me,” you grab two sanitizers dramatically from your holster and pose like a sailor scout, except weirder. You couldn’t even tell how you exactly posed your arms in the air, you just let the alcohol do the work. As a finishing touch to the pose, you winked and announced, “Germinator-chan!!!”

At that, Miya spilled the drink he was about to take while Bokuto put his hands on his hips as they both laughed uncontrollably. Hinata walked beside … what was his name again? You’ll just continue calling him face-mask man. “You look so cool, Germinator-chan!!” Hinata beamed at you while scanning your whole look. “We should’ve dressed up as well,” he added with a slight pout.

Ah. Sakusa it was.

Miya ,who was still laughing his heart out, put an arm around Sakusa, “My, my, Omi-kun,” he paused to chuckle, “We’ve found yer dream girl!” Sakusa tried to shrug Miya’s arm off of his shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

Bokuto came closer as well and spoke to Sakusa, “Are you still leaving? Germinator-chan can keep you clean.”

“Of course I’m still leaving. I shouldn’t even have come in this germ-infested place” he said and was about to saunter off towards the exit. Before he could even pass you by, you block his path and extend your arms.

“Germ, you say? I got you,” you said while you poised your sanitizers in place, ready to give him some if he extends his hands to you. You find no shame in how flippant you seemed. This is what Halloween parties are all about. You, yourself, are having fun even if you don’t entirely grasp why they’re teasing the guy. He probably has a cold and wants to avoid too many people.

You weren’t expecting it, but Sakusa held out his hands. You thought he was just going to ignore your antics because he seemed annoyed. You heard him mumble something, but because of the music and his face mask, you didn’t hear it.

“Sorry, what?!”

He comes a bit closer, close enough for you to notice how he’s not as serious as he was before. More so, he looked pleased. Since half of his face is covered, all your attention went to his eyes, and at this proximity, you became aware how pretty they actually looked. Or maybe you’re already drunk and he’s just too close.

“Thanks, miss,” he uttered softly.

“BAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! You’re perfect for each other!” Bokuto’s laugh drew your attention away from Sakusa.

“Before you leave, Omi-san. Can we take pictures with you, Germinator-chan?” Hinata asks with his phone already on his hand.

“Ah yes yes, Shoyo-kun. Clever idea.” The Miya guy said with a widespread grin on his face. Once again, they all gathered around Sakusa. You joined them with silly poses as they took several selfies with you. The three of them were obviously having fun while Sakusa’s expression was the same in all the photos. Even with the face mask, you could tell. He’s pissed. As soon as they put the phone down, he was on the move again.

“Wait, Omi-kun!” Miya stopped him once more. Sakusa looked like a vein was gonna pop on his temple. Maybe you just imagined him being pleasant a while ago.

“We’re letting ya leave, don’t worry.” Miya smirked prior to adding, “after ya take pictures with Germinator-chan.” You see Sakusa’s shoulders slump in defeat. But you didn’t feel bad for him at all. In fact, you also wanted to keep on teasing him.

As they snap pictures, you kept on doing superhero poses with your costume. Sakusa’s impassiveness doesn’t bother you one bit. You kept on flailing around him while they took pictures. When they had their fill, they said their goodbyes as Sakusa walked away without even looking back.

“Byeee. Stay germ-free!” You half-shouted as he already gained some distance away from you and the three men. When he reached the exit, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on your heel and saw Miya offering you a drink. “You, Germinator-chan, are fucking awesome.” The three boys wore big smiles on their faces which you reciprocated. You bowed as acknowledgment to the compliment and took the offered liquor. You gulped a significant amount before excusing yourself “Bye boyysss.” You head back to your coworkers, faltering on every step of the way.

Two days after that Halloween party, life went on. You regret drinking so much that night. You barfed like crazy when you got home and you had a massive hangover the morning after so you had to take the following day off. Since everyone in your office knew why you had to be absent the previous day, they made you do additional work that day.

You’re a Lifestyle writer, but the Sports department needed another person today. They weren’t able to do the interview for some players the week before so you’re needed to do the last set of interviews. You don’t really know anything Sports-related. They just gave you a list of the people you’re going to interview and the questionnaire for them to answer. The most you could do is follow up on their answers. You looked at the names to be interviewed.

Shion Inunaki

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Shoyo Hinata

You don’t know why, but the names were awfully familiar. You shrugged it off. Maybe you just saw some articles about them from the Sports department.

You arrived at the gymnasium and went straight to their manager, stating that you were scheduled there to interview some players for your magazine. You took your seat at the sides and waited. The first interview with Inunaki went smoothly. When you’re done with him, he called the next guy and got back to their practice.

Upon seeing the next interviewee, you stare intently at him for he looked incredibly familiar, you just had to remember where you met him. Black, curly hair that framed his face nicely. Two moles located right above his right eyebrow. Sharp, serious eyes. But something’s off. Something at the back of your head knows that you’ve seen his face, but something’s amiss.

Face mask. He wasn’t wearing his face mask.

Sakusa.

Drunken memories came rushing down to your sober mind. You even heard your frilly voice saying Germinator-chan!!

You looked down and fixed your glasses as an attempt to hide your face. You cleared your throat and deepened your talking voice so that he wouldn’t perceive any resemblance you may have with what you looked like two nights ago.

You started the interview and took down notes more keenly than you should, just so you wouldn’t meet his gaze. From your peripheral, you saw him trying to get a better look at your face.

“Excuse me, have we met somewhere?” he said after answering a question from your list. You smile thriftly and shake your head. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press on.

‘Kami-sama, I swear to take care of myself and not contaminate my precious body with alcohol. Just let me go through this unnoticed. I’m begging you,’ you prayed silently.

Fortunately, the interview ended with Sakusa not figuring out who you were. When the last interviewee sat down, a pair of bright hazel eyes stared at you with glee.

“GERMINATOR-CHAN!” Hinata yelled while pointing at you happily. It echoed in the whole gymnasium and how awfully lucky you were, everyone was on break. You felt everyone’s eyes on you. Not long after, you’re crowded by not only the four boys you met that fateful night, but everyone else in the team.

“Wow. This is the Germinator-chan?” A player you didn’t know asked.

Apparently, Miya shared the pictures to every single one on the team. Inunaki joined their fun and tapped the back of Sakusa. “Real nice, Sakusa-san!” You heard a familiar voice and found Miya beside Sakusa. “Well, well, Omi-kun. Her alter-ego’s real pretty.” The taunts were focused on Sakusa, but you felt like sinking on your seat that moment.

“Um!!” You got all their attention. “Sorry, but can I finish my interview with Hinata-kun first?” You smiled as professionally and as nice as you could. They all uttered light apologies and dispersed back on the court. You resumed with the interview as fast as you could. You thanked Hinata and their manager and semi-sprinted out of the court when you had the chance. No way you’re gonna get hounded by any MSBY member again.

The exit was just a few steps away and finally, you can rest easy. You let out a breath of relief when you reached outside with no problem.

“Germinator-chan.”

You yelp from the sudden voice behind you. You slowly turn around to confirm if it was who you thought it was. And behold, it really was Sakusa Kiyoomi. You twiddled with your fingers while thinking of what you should say. You didn’t want to apologize for your behavior the other night. You liked having fun and going crazy. You saw nothing wrong with that. You didn’t do anything inappropriate. It’s just that you didn’t think you’d see any of those men right when you’re working.

He walked towards you until you were face to face. Without his face mask, you end up staring at his whole profile that was partially hidden that night. He must’ve been really sick to want to cover such an attractive face.

“What brand of sanitizer did you use?” You blink twice from the confusion. “What?” you ask dumbfoundedly. “That night. The sanitizer you gave me felt nice. Did it have 70% isopropyl alcohol?” You couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you cause his face is dead serious. That’s when you figured it out.. The face mask, the early escape from the crowd, attention to disinfectant — he was a clean freak.

“Umm. I-Uh.. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really check,” you said, then laughed nervously.

“Do you want some recommendations?”

“Huh?” You felt like an idiot for not fully grasping what he was talking about. If you weren’t staring so hard, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but something broke his stoic expression when his eyes averted your gaze for a second. He looked a bit unsure.

“I can help you choose a good sanitizer...and stuff.”

The smile that broke in your face was wide and it hurt your cheeks. You’ve been asked out several times, but that. That was unlike any other you’ve ever heard. It was so weird. It was the kind of weird that appeared so charming to you.

You just had to go out with him.

A year after that, you find yourself in his apartment to celebrate Halloween. Originally, you wanted to go to that Halloween party again, but no matter how much you pouted, begged, and pestered him, the answer was a big, fat no.

This is your most-awaited holiday of the year. There’s no way you’re missing out on Halloween activities with him. So days prior to this, you brainstormed on what activities you could do with him.

Haunted House? Dirty. Abandoned buildings? Dirtier. Street Parties? Crowded. Ouija Board? You’re scared something will actually happen. Zombie run? Dirty and crowded.

You almost gave up until you remembered your vast collection of untouched horror movies, documentaries, and series that you didn’t have the time to watch because of work. You instantly texted Sakusa if that was okay with him.

Okay

You’ve never been so glad to read a four-lettered text after receiving a constant n-o, no to all your suggestions. Finally. FINALLY, you came up with something you two could do.

Halloween weekend came and you both decided on Sakusa’s apartment to do the movie marathon. You keep shifting in your seat from excitement. Tonight, you get the opportunity to watch some of your hoarded horror pieces, and much better, you’re watching it with Sakusa.

“Is there anything you’d like to watch in particular?” you ask him with your eyes still glued on the screen, browsing your bought movies. He moves closer to you and slouches so he can better see his options.

If Sakusa will be honest, he’s not really a fan of horror. He doesn’t see the point of scaring oneself from something that is make-believe. So he’s not that enthusiastic about it.

But you were.

If watching freakish movies makes you happy, then okay. Out of all your ideas this year, this is the only one he can tolerate. He knows how dedicated you are in celebrating this event. Last year was already a solid proof of that.

“Don’t you get scared by watching that stuff?” He’s looking at you but your focus is on the screen as you scroll down. “I do. But that’s the point!” You squeal from excitement. He still can’t wrap his head around the whole concept, but he’s willing to indulge you.

“Do you get scared by these?” you peel your eyes away from the TV and shift your attention to him.

He shrugs indifferently. “Not really,” was his answer even though he still hasn’t watched a full length horror film. He just couldn’t imagine how a fictional work could potentially frighten him.

“Okay. Let’s go with something light since the night is still young,” you said, then clicked on some movie that he didn’t catch the title of. You huddled closer to him. You tuck your knees in and hug your legs as the movie starts.

You’re so elated that you don’t notice the tug in the corner of his mouth as he studies your face. He asked you out on a whim because that day, he didn’t really have the time to think twice. He wasn’t sure if he’d see you again. If he’d been honest, he thought you were all over the place when he first saw you. He didn’t usually find that appealing, but he couldn’t deny that you looked so cute as Germinator-chan, especially with your eyes twinkling in glee as you offered him that sanitizer.

Even though asking you out wasn’t a well-thought of idea, he made the right decision. He didn’t need to match up to your outgoing personality. You never made him feel that he wasn’t enough or that he needed to be more than himself. He never felt pressured to make you happy because you already are with whatever he gives. You’re you and he’s him, yet your relationship is more than satisfactory for both of you.

You might have noticed him gaping at you since you suddenly turned to him and raised your eyebrow. “What’re you staring for?” Your lips formed the cute smile he’s always adored.

“Nothing,” he replied more quickly than he should. He takes in your smile for one good second before shifting his gaze to the screen. The movie starts with people going to the woods for their idea of fun.

‘Ew’ he thought to himself.

As the film progresses, it gets even worse. There are body parts getting dismembered. It’s so bad when someone’s arm was severed, blood splattered all over the place. He unconsciously grips your thigh to ground himself. You don’t notice this since you shrieked happily at the scene. You were even clapping your hands.

“Yeeess! Cut those arms, dude.”

He couldn’t believe you found this fun. He couldn’t bear to look at the mutilated body parts, even if it was just on screen. He just looked away until he thought it was safe for his eyes again. That’s what he’ll do every time there’s a bloody clip.

After a while, you finally sense that his hand was clutching your thigh because of the gradual increase of force he unknowingly put behind it.

“Kiyoomi?” You look at your boyfriend whose face is now drained of color. “Oh no. What’s wrong?!” Your full attention is now on him despite the film still rolling.

Your face is a pile of concern. A while ago, he was painfully uncomfortable in your choice of movie, but seeing your once cheery facade get all worried cause he couldn’t take the blood made him feel bad. You already adjusted your Halloween plans for him. He can at least try harder to get through this movie.

He gently shakes his head. “I’m okay. Don’t mind me. Let’s keep watching.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do it if you’re not okay with it.” It was very like you to look out for him and adjust to him, even at your own expense. You’re easygoing, loud, fun, and everything he’s not - that included messy and clumsy. Despite that, you accepted his needs and boundaries without any qualms.

He removes his grip from your thigh and wraps his arm around you.

“I’m really fine, sweetheart.”

Your face lights up at his endearment, completely melting away the worry you had a while ago.

Now, he just needs to pin it on his mind that the thing isn’t real and he can survive the night.

However, it proved to be more difficult than he imagined when the scenes keep getting messier, bloodier, and dirtier. He keeps on focusing on your entertained face to distract himself from the screams and the sound of blood splashing and gushing.

From the short moments that he was able to glance at the screen, he can tell that the movie is reaching its climax already. He decided that he’s going to keep his eyes on the screen starting from now, just to fulfill your wish of him actually watching with you.

A few minutes into it and he was starting to feel sick. He gets nauseous when someone's head is crushed by a rock. Unable to continue, he pulls you closer and leans his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed.

You immediately notice him wavering and quickly turn off the television. You cup his cheeks and brush away the curls blocking his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you weakly.

“Sorry, we were almost done… but the blood was too much,” he confessed defeatedly.

“No, no, no. I should’ve realized that it would make you uneasy.” You felt guilty for not figuring it out sooner. You’ve been with him for a year now. You should’ve put two and two together.

“Let’s do something else. What do you wanna do?”

“We can watch another scary film. Just less blood.” He suggested a compromise. He won’t let you do all the adjusting this time. He’s getting fed up with himself being coddled by you all the time.

“Swear to me that you’ll let me know if it gets too much.” Your tone was serious.

“I swear Germinator-chan,” he says monotonously but you catch the humor behind it. This is Sakusa afterall. Because you’re used to his non-expressive self, you’ve gotten used to the intricate details of how he conveys his emotion.

You couldn’t help but smile while rolling your eyes back to the screen. You choose a more recent movie that’s a sequel to a very famous horror franchise you’ve been following. It was perfect because it was just plain creepy and scary without the gore.

You make yourselves comfortable again. Around twenty minutes into the film, there's no one who’s body parts are missing from their bodies. You’ve been keeping an eye on him. Thankfully, it seems like he’s calmed down now that he’s leaning on the couch with the color back on his face. He looks focused on the movie that was playing. With that, you are able to relax and do the same.

The calm was short-lived though. This movie is quite distinct from the last one. The previous film was chaotic and fun (for you). Now, the room is drowning in ominous music as you wait for the next jumpscare to happen. But it doesn’t. It leaves you at the edge of your seat when you tortuously wait for it to come. The eerie background music stops without any sign of the demonic ghost showing up. You finally let out the breath you were holding in your chest.

That is until you see something in the corner of the screen. It was hazy and it looks like it’s just part of the background. You fixate your eyes on the imagery while you feel a familiar dread rising in your throat. You want to make sure that it was nothing. You squeeze Sakusa’s knee while leaning a bit towards the screen to get a better look.

When you find that you’re close enough, the screen completely turns black, but only for a millisecond. It pops back up to reveal the same background you were looking at earlier. Only now, the thing you were closely looking at was not there anymore. You don’t know what to expect as there’s only silence.

In a blink of an eye, the object of your focus was revealed. A woman’s face occupied the whole screen. She had blood-shot eyes wide as saucers accompanied by an inhuman grin that spread too wide, making her face look unholy.

“SHIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!”

Your reflexes kick in. You use the hand you have on Sakusa’s knee to propel yourself and launch yourself to him. Both your hands find their way on his chest, clutching tight the fabric over it. You bury half your face on his chest and close your eyes.

“Is she gone?” Before he even answers, you open one eye cautiously and peek at the screen to see if it was safe to look again. You see that the scene is cut to a crowd with mundane music. You exhale heavily. You loosen your grip on his shirt and look up to him with a sheepish smile.

“I thought you’re used to this.” He remarks inquisitively while looking confused as to why you were so frightened when you were the one who suggested the horror marathon.

“Do you watch this stuff when you’re alone?” He asked further.

“Of course not. I live alone. I might not get any sleep if I watch some by myself.” You giggle. “And it’s more fun to watch with others.” You let go of your grip on him and go back to how you were previously sitting.

The movie went on with several more screams from you. You begin to feel Sakusa tensing up. You notice how intense he’s leaning on the couch. It’s like he doesn’t want any space behind him from the way he pushed his back to the cushioned backrest and seized the armrest with his right limb. His other hand was holding yours rigidly. Like him, you also start to be agitated as the appearances of haunted apparitions become clearer and more frequent.

It came to point that you were kneeling on the couch and had your arms around him. You have no control on how tight you were holding on to him. You’re pretty sure you were squishing his cheeks sometimes, but you don’t hear anything from him. He seems to be immersed in the story as well because you can feel him flinch and jerk at jumpscares. At the turning point of the movie, it was basically a screamfest held by you.

Seems like you blew his ear off since he tugged you to sit back down. Still, he doesn’t say anything and encloses an arm around you instead. You respond accordingly and use his embrace as your cover.

When the movie ends, you breathe a sigh of relief, which is followed by a laugh and an applause.

“That was so good!” Your eyes are beaming brightly from satisfaction. “Right?” You turn to him to see his reaction.

He has a faint smile on his face, then nods twice. “I didn’t expect you’d be that jumpy,” he said. You scratch your head while laughing embarrassedly. When you settled down, you just found yourselves staring at each other. The thick restlessness from the scary film was gone, replaced by something intimately familiar to both of you.

He makes the first move. He gently cups your cheek and lets it linger momentarily while his eyes shimmer with tenderness as they remain on yours. Some people, namely your coworkers, found it weird that someone like you is dating Sakusa. According to them, you’re a firecracker while he was a defective explosive that only lights up when playing volleyball.

But they’re wrong.

They just don’t know that this Sakusa in front of you exists. He has his own ways of letting you know how much he cares. They were quiet gestures that spoke loudly and exclusively for you. And yes, you are a chaotic bundle of energy, so there were many days that even you, yourself overwhelm yourself. But he gives you peace that nothing or no one else has provided you.

So when he leans closer to capture your lips, you immediately melt to him.

What started out as an affectionate kiss begins to heat up when he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. Then, he grazes his tongue on your lower lip before biting it gently. To hell with your coworkers. He’s nowhere near a defective explosive when he makes you burn up like this.

You want to feel him more, so you take the lead and straddle him. You grind your hips against his crotch and cover his mouth with yours. You’re getting eager to touch his bare skin so you pull up his shirt which reveals his toned chest and abs that made you drool. Best perk of dating a pro athlete. You look down a bit to relish the sight of him topless.

“Um. Can you tie your hair?”

“I washed my hair right before we watched. It’s clean.” You don’t look back at him and continue trailing your palm down on his abs.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You still keep your eyes on his torso while biting your lips.

“You’re like the demon lady with your hair down like that when you look down.”

You snap your head back up and find him clearly avoiding looking at you. You try to imagine what he’s thinking - the demon lady on his lap and is about to do the nasty with him. You throw your head back and roar from laughter.

“You have quite the imagination, you know that?” you tell him with your eyes still twinkling from amusement.

“You looked like her for a minute,” he insisted. You click your tongue while shaking your head. “Too bad, Omi. I don’t have my hairtie with me.” You get off from his lap and sit beside him. “Let’s watch a documentary instead?” He only replies with a nod.

“Sorry.I tried, but I can’t unsee it.”

“It’s fine.” You giggle and kiss him on the cheek. “I don’t want you having nightmares of me as the demon lady.”

You grab the remote and put on a ghost-sighting documentary while he puts on his shirt back. It fell flat compared to the other two that previously went on, but you did not change it. You gave it a chance. Maybe there’s something interesting about it.

….

Sakusa woke up with the TV already displaying its screen saver. Before he passed out, he recalls you were starting to get drowsy with your eyes hazy while leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t remember when, but he must’ve fallen asleep.

Not realizing that there was no weight resting on him, he looked beside him.

You weren’t there.

That was odd. If you moved to the bedroom, you would have woken him up. He blinks a few times to clear his vision before scanning the corners of this room from his seat. His only source of light was the one emanating from the screen, but that should be enough to get even just an outline of your figure.

But there was no sign of you, just the darkness engulfing the inanimate objects in the room.

“Y/n?” He called out, but there was no response.

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. On the slight chance that you are already in his bed, he walks to his bedroom.

The cool metal of the doorknob wakes his senses. He’s suddenly more wary of everything around him. Because he wanted to reduce the accumulation of dust in his place, he did not place any unnecessary object that can cause dirt. That made his place look spacious and wide. It was only now that he became aware of the vast empty spaces on his back.

Yet despite the seeming emptiness, it feels like something is occupying the place, lurking in the vacant arrays of his home.

A sudden breeze grazes his nape.

‘It’s nothing. It’s usually cold this time of the year.’ He told himself even though he could feel the chill creeping up on his spine.

He hurriedly turns the doorknob and opens the door, only to reveal an empty bed and an empty room. You aren’t there. He’s about to shut the door when the curtains suddenly fly softly at its hems. Yeah. It’s definitely windier than usual.

He closes the door and moves towards the bathroom. The lights are off in it, but you sometimes don’t turn it on when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. You don’t like sudden bright lights. Although when you do that, you usually leave the door open.

The bathroom door is shut. His hand was ready to knock when he saw a shadow from his peripheral. He wanted to ignore it, but his trained eye caught the figure. He harshly spun to see what it was.

Nothing.

It was nothing. The deafening silence augmented the dread that was starting to consume his being. He can feel the tips of his fingers get colder, his skin prickling from goosebumps, his throat getting dryer.

“You’re just imagining things,” he uttered to himself to quell his nervousness. He enjoyed the movie earlier, but he didn’t think it would get in his head.

He turns back around to the door and knocks three times. No answer. He knocks again, louder this time. Where the hell are you? It wasn’t like you to leave without saying anything.

He heads for the kitchen to get some water, hoping that it can erase the uneasiness on his mind and body. Then he’ll call your phone as a last resort.

When he makes his turn at the corner of the living room leading to the kitchen, his breath gets suspended in the air at the sight.

A woman who’s looking down stood in front of him. He’s never seen something so sinister. Her black pupils occupy the whole of her eyes. Her hair is down and framed her face in a perfect V shape.

“FUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK!” His thick scream broke the stillness of his apartment while stumbling a few steps back. It was followed by the woman’s screechy wail as she looked up to him.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her hair falls a few inches away from her cheeks, giving him a clearer view of her face. It was not a haunted apparition.

It was you!

Now that he looks closely, your eyes were actually normal. It’s just that it was so dark and your eyelids were half closed so it seemed like your eyes were a complete block of black.

When the two of you stopped exchanging screams, it was you who recovered first. He was still frozen in place with terrified eyes. “Oh Kiyoomi.” You put your arms around him and dipped your head on the crook of his neck. Your relieved heaving quickly bubbled into tittering as you realized how stupid you two must’ve seemed.

You put a gentle hand on his face and looked at him. He’s still a bit shaken, but he meets your gaze. “I called for you. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I got a voice call from one of my editors so I was listening intently.”

“Why here?”

“I was getting water when I opened the message.”

“Were you in the living room just now?”

You frown at him. “No…. well actually, maybe? I was spaced out while walking when I realized I didn’t really get the water I came for. So I immediately went back to the kitchen.”

The breath he exhales is deep, but you feel his shoulders loosen up from it. “You didn’t even see that TV was already off and I wasn’t there anymore?” His tone was a bit irritated.

“I was preoccupied with what my editor said.” You pout.

His demeanor softens up. He takes your hand off from his cheek and holds it tenderly. “Let’s just get to bed already.”

When you two lie down, you’re surprised that he’s spooning you. He never does. He doesn’t like your hair touching his face, even though you tell him that you’ve thoroughly cleaned it. Usually, you are the big spoon, which was weird because he’s way too huge for you, or you position yourself a bit lower so that your cheeks are on his chest and you aren’t obstructing his face.

“Next year, let’s go to that Halloween party instead. I’ll dress up in a PPE so no one touches me.“ He says in your ear while his arm snakes around your waist.

“Hmm. I dunno. I quite like this to be honest.” You hold the arm he has around you and snuggled closer. Yep. You’d rather have this.

Taglist: @shinhiromi @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @isentsworld @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @omibaby @atsumubabe @sachirou-senpai

#bbthots #spoofythots #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa scenarios #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #imagination

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bleekay · 4 years ago

Note

would it be possible for you to share how you sketch things ? im working on being able to do a sketch without melting from perfectionism and also your art is amazing ans I love everything you create

ok first off, thank u 💖 and absolutely! i mean i have no idea if any of this is going to be helpful. with the arting process... i don’t necessarily have, like, a single Method. but i’m gonna try my best here to explain with like, prior stuff i’ve done. i wish i could show you a start-to-finish-sketch but i don’t save my progress enough during the sketching process, so i hope these are ok enough explanations

so, for this one below, i did a quick initial sketch with the general pose i wanted them to be in. i didn’t worry about too many details, but i’ve done it so much by this point that i tend to give the sketchy bois some weight. i like getting an idea of musculature and hand/finger placement, sometimes hair and facial expressions––absolutely none of it has to be perfect or proportionate, it doesn’t even have to be what i want or expect the final product to be. like, as you can see, the end result is pretty different from the initial sketch. sometimes i will do a dozen of these little sketches on the same canvas before i end up doing one i like enough to continue working on. sometimes all i do is the sketches and i never continue with any of them (which is fine! every single sketch is practice, and practice is always good)

i do a second sketch on a separate layer, using the first sketch as a vague guideline. i shifted them a little here, changed up the hair, added clothes, yada yada. and once i finished sketch number two, i did the final “lineart” layer, still adjusting details, making zuko’s shoulders broader and more natural, cleaning it up. this, i’d say, is probably the most familiar process to me, one i’ve been doing since i was a kid, using inital sketches as a guide, a reference, instead of as the expected end result

for that first kiss i drew from Blue? i did SO many sketches. i hated them all. i’m only sharing a couple here because this is already a long post (sorry 😩) but i promise you there are many more. i did the background first on its own layer, tried sketching a few different ways, including the sketch-over-sketch thing i mentioned in the above example. i even got to coloring on some! but i still disliked them so much that i scrapped em and started over. and then did it again. and again. it took weeks. just stuck in the sketching process. the second to last panel here, in all its messy, vague glory, is what i ended up painting over for the final drawing. you can see the beginnings of the painting in the last panel. so sometimes sketching is.... a nightmare. but look at the final sketch lol it’s got no details at all, but i was happy with the proportions, with the angle of their heads, with the weight, and like.... the Vibes, you know? and it took so many failures before i got here. so believe me, i understand all too well that desire for a sketch to be Perfect. what really helped me? walking away from it. i drew other stuff for like a week before i came back to this and tried again. i cannot recommend that enough, just taking a break from something if it’s not turning out the way you want it to, or it’s causing you stress

something i’ve been doing a lot lately is just like..... sketching and then refining the sketch as i’m drawing it, and not even bothering with an oversketch or lineart. i will literally sketch and erase until i have clean(ish) lines. i very often draw heads and faces before moving on to bodies, and i wont even necessarily draw the entire pose first. i sort of figure it all out as i go along. so, you see, sometimes my sketches are messy and just there to get an idea of what i want to draw, and sometimes my sketches are... like this. i didn’t even know what the arms were gonna be doing until after i drew their bodies 😬 this is also the method i used when i drew the first SWT zukka art, just all one sketch that i refined on the same layer until it looked ok, and then color on separate layers

sketching is kinda... whatever you want it to be. i experiment sometimes if i see art tutorials or speedpaint/process art videos that intrigue me, and i think those are always excellent resources if you wanna get an idea of how someone creates a piece from start to finish, and what techniques you can try and incorporate into your own creative process. it’s also probably a good idea to use reference pictures for poses or expressions or whatever if you need to

#art stuff #blee arts #pissvore #asks

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nejiraez · 5 years ago

Text

boy, interrupted | bakugou katsuki

summary: bakugou manages to sneak his s/o away for some alone time. however, the universe thinks otherwise thus leading to a series of unfortunate events where he gets interrupted every. damn. time. you take it with a grain of salt, but bakugou is less than pleased~

warnings: GETS A BIT SUGGESTIVE. BLOCK THE TAG (just in case): ns//fw, even though it isn’t heavily used here, its to be safe

since im currently 18, CHARACTERS ARE 18/IN CLASS 3A

tags: @lleggs because that ASK sent back in dec was the spark of this just put a bt of a twist~ and @charvaughn-writes (because i remember you commenting to tag u if it was written!)

Bakugou liked being close to you. Emotionally, intellectually, all that.

But most of all, he enjoyed being physically close to and with you.

Whether it’d be through the form of hands brushing together, hugs, kisses or sleeping together, he gradually began to be more willing to sharing his affections with you.

All sat well with him as long as it wasn’t obnoxious forms of PDA.

This was why the two of you were currently locked away in his room engaging in a make-out session which all stemmed from when he was supposed to help you with your final project in your third year.

You were straddled on your boyfriend’s lap as you let him take the lead and pace of things. Wanting to go further, he glides a hand underneath your shirt, rubbing small circles on your sides. His fingertips skate across your skin, causing goosebumps to rise on the surface.

Yet, something pulls you away much to his dismay.

A knock at the door.

You make a move to pry yourself off from the male, however, he encircles his arms around your waist and keeps a tight hold.

Katsuki shakes his head, his eyes were half-lidded with grave desire. “Come back here,” he murmurs as he draws your face back to him again. He slips himself back into your mouth and proceeds to kiss you again.

He had hoped that the longer he ignored the knocking, the person would catch the hint and go away. But of course, luck doesn’t seem to be on his side.

Bakugou pulls away from your lips and glares at the door from over your shoulder. “For fuck's sake,” he curses, he was beginning to grow impatient each time the sound resonated throughout the room.

Bakugou growls in agitation at the fact that he now would have to leave his spot on the bed to go answer the door for the dumbass on the other side.

He lifts your hips off his and hisses at the lost contact. He spares you one last kiss to your jaw before he hoists himself off the mattress and stalks towards the door where the knocking was still persistent.

“What the fuck do you want??” He asks, barely opening the door for Kaminari to peer into his dimly lit room. He left it ajar to the point where the electric blond was only able to see Katsuki’s harsh vermillion eyes glaring back at him.

“Hey! I was wondering if I could borrow your notes for next week’s test...” He began, but his brows scrunch in confusion once he digests the sour expression on his friend’s face. “But you seem to be... um... busy?”

Katsuki’s eyes squint in scrutiny as he watches uncertainty wash over the male’s face. “What do you think,” he slightly cracks the door for him to peer in.

“Oh...” Kaminari says, slowly putting two and two together as his golden eyes dart from you seated on Katsuki’s bed to his friend’s dishevelled hair, light bruises scattered on his neck and the sweats which hung dangerously low on his hips. “OHH! Well, shit!”

“Yeah.”

Kaminari’s cheeks flush an embarrassed red as he reaches a hand towards the back of his neck to sheepishly rub at it. “Didn’t know, dude. You uh... keep doing what you’re doing - !”

“Shut the fuck up,” Bakugou mutters under his breath at his friend’s lack of self-awareness. He clicks his tongue in annoyance and reaches for his door handle to shut him out.

“Get. Lost.” And with that, he forcefully slams the door closed in his face. This effectively sent the message through that his presence was definitely not needed, nor was it welcomed.

Maybe it was luck but the majority of class 3-A went out for the weekend doing God knows what.

Bakugou could care less as to what they did.

Ever since that idiot, Kaminari, barged into his dorm and managed to absolutely take the mood that was set and shoot a bullet through it, Bakugou figured that he’d be more careful this time around.

Where it would be just you and him. No fuck ass idiots coming in to ask for his notes or inviting you out.

Which was why you two were finally able to go farther than what was achieved last time.

“Can I-” Bakugou pauses and stabilizes himself by propping one of his hands next to your head. You can see the slight tremors in his body as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. “Can I move now?” He asked, to which you nodded your head giving him the green light.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, drawling out the last syllable of your name. He leans down and you feel one of his hands slide up from your waist and towards your back so that he may draw you closer. “You feel good.”

From the neck up you grew warm out how open your boyfriend was being with you right now. “That’s... that’s lewd, Katsuki...”

“I- fuck-” He gasps as he buries his face into your neck. You began to notice his tone of voice has changed, for it was more hitched and whinier. As if he needed release.

Katsuki’s breaths were beginning to grow more shallowed each time he entered you. “You’re really tight, (Y/N).”

That sentence alone caused you to break out into an embarrassed cold sweat. For him to be so open wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially when he got worked up like that.

You opened your mouth to respond, however, three sturdy knocks on your boyfriend’s door drew you away from what you were going to say.

You repeatedly pat your boyfriend’s shoulder trying to garner his gaze towards his doorway, “K-Katsuki - !”

“Yeah, I know. I’m... I’m close too,” he pants, brushing your concern off for something else. For he was too lost in the moment and focused on the task at hand to pay attention to what was going on around him.

“No, Katsuki! I mean the door-”

And on cue the door swung open, allowing light from the hallway to spill into his room. This was all followed by the familiar voice Katsuki knew all too well. Kirishima. “Oi, Bakubro! You left your phone on the - !”

“Getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout. GET. OUT!” Bakugou snapped, rapidly pulling his sweats back up to his hips and threw the sheets over your head to prevent you from being exposed.

He pushed the stunned redhead out from his room and into the hallway. With the door closed, he glares at his friend who still had that same dumb expression on his face.

Kirishima watches in complete shock and slight regret at how his buddy’s face bloomed a striking pink at the fact of being walked in on.

“What in the absolute fuck makes you think it’s okay for you to barge into my room?” Bakugou hisses. He began to tug and tie the strings of his sweats, tightening their hold on his waist.

Bakugou was livid. To be interrupted not once, but twice within the interval of 72 hours had him on edge. It was as if the universe was fucking with him.

“Well,” Kirishima swallows down the lump in his throat as he got up from his ass. Being trapped under Bakuou’s fiery gaze made him weary with what he would say next. “Your phone kept ringing out in the open and I know how you don’t like having your things messed with...”

“So you hear two people fucking and you don’t have the decency to, oh I don’t know... Leave?!!”

“I didn’t even know!”

“Bullshit!” Bakugou growls as he lunges at his best friend, who let out a pathetic scream in return. Kirishima successfully dodges his sudden attack and sprints down the hall towards the elevators.

Bakugou though, lost his interest and merely watches as he makes his sweet escape. “Idiot,” he grunts, turning his heel to head back into his room.

I’m friends with dumbasses, I swear. He had thought all while brutally slamming his door shut again for the second time that week.

A week has passed since the two incidents have occurred. Katsuki’s classmates in 3-A were able to note an alarming change in his behaviour. For he was more irritable and his responses were snappier than usual.

And rightfully so.

“Good morning Bakugou!” Kaminari greeted, waving at his friend who sat hunched over the kitchen counter on one of the leather barstools.

Katsuki briefly glanced up from his phone at the beckon of his name. A sharp eyebrow twitched in agitation and his jaw was clenched once he sees them approaching.

“‘Good morning Baku-’ shut the fuck up.” He mimicked before he hopped out from his seat and exited the kitchen. Clearly not wanting anything to do with his two perpetrators that have been interrupting his sessions with you.

“What’s gotten into him?” Mina questioned, watching their friend stomp out of the room, hands shoved harshly into his pockets as he muttered profanities under his breath.

“These two,” Sero begins, pointing between a flustered Kirishima and Kaminari, “have been cockblocking him this past week.”

“Unintentionally! Don’t forget ‘unintentionally’!” Kirishima added, burying his face into his hands to hide the red on his cheeks. “I never want to walk in on him like that ever again.”

Thus, the unspoken rule between the class was formed.

If you cannot find Bakugou Katsuki in the common space, kitchen area, or wherever, please, for the love of God do not go looking for him.

Or one will either walk into a scene they wish they hadn’t or they’d face Bakugou’s intimidating presence for the rest of the week.

#bnha imagine #bnha scenario #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #original #suggestive

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phoenixfox56 · 4 years ago

Text

Together

Rating - General

Note – My best friend gave me some huge inspiration for this one and I love her dearly. She had me listen to a particular song that makes her think of me and I adore it. I also needed to spread some Hana love 💖

Check out the reference music here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvwhnMZinDQ

Summary – Riley will always be there for Hana because she knows Hana would be there for her.

Pairing - Hana x MC

Word Count – 1,576

The rain was heavy and cold, but it didn’t bother her, not tonight. The day had been rewarding and Riley was happily making her way towards the one person she knew would be just as happy to see her as she was to see them. She adjusted her hoodie as the rain lightened to misty drops. Steadily moving down the dark street as the buildings and homes became infrequent. Her boots splashed gently in each small pool of water laid out in her path. Letting her feet do the guiding for her in a path she has walked a hundred times and a hundred more if she must. Neither rain nor sleet nor snow would stop her, not even an almighty unknown force could ever make her turn back.

She reached the grounds she had been moving towards. A large grand estate gated in front with a reasonably short stone wall that circled the magnificent home. She turned to walk along the wall away from the gated front. Following it all the way until she was staring at the side of the manor. Riley tightened the straps of her backpack around her shoulders. She placed her foot on a stone she had become familiar with, it protruded in a way that provided her just enough hold for her to hoist herself up and sit on the top. She gathered the end of her long skirt to wring some water out of it just before she pivots her body and drops herself on the inside. Landing with a squish on the soft lush grass. She looked straight ahead towards the building spread out in front of her. Her eyes caught a light coming from a door on the second floor, casting a warm glow on the balcony that attached to it.

Hastily she moved across the lawn until she was under the light source. A trellis filled with wisteria flowers made a “U” shape around the balcony. Starting from one side coming down to the ground and around to the other side, ending neatly leveled with the top of the door that led inside. Getting her footing once more she slowly made her way up, careful to not destroy any of the flowers that draped themselves in a downward fashion. Grabbing hold of the railing she pulled herself over and stood straight, then lightly dropped her bag down. Taking a silent step forward and placing her hand against the door frame to lean, she raised her other and knocked ever so gently on the glass. It was silent for a moment before she could hear the shuffling. Riley held her breath as the curtain was slowly pushed to the side. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth when the door was unlocked and opened. A tall slender woman with smooth tawny skin, like she was made from the sands of a tropical beach, reached her hand out and grasped Riley’s, pulling her inside. Once the door was secured shut and the curtains were drawn Riley was pulled delicately into an embrace.

“I’m so happy to see you.” The woman says before she pulls back, leaving her hands placed on Riley’s.

“And I’m always happy to see you, Hana.” Riley said in return. As she looked into Hana’s deep chocolate eyes, she noticed they didn’t sparkle as they usually did. Growing concerned her smile faded and she squeezed Hana’s hands.

“Is everything alright?” She asked Hana anxiously. Hana looked down at the floor, drawing her long auburn hair forward to cascade around her face. Taking the moment to carefully choose how to continue.

“My parents are becoming impatient with me.” She continued to stare at the floor but knew she didn’t want to lie to Riley.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand.” Riley’s concern only grew as her heart rate picked up.

“They have this notion that I am not taking my lessons seriously. They think I am getting distracted by something and they are trying to figure out what it is.” Hana’s hands fell from Riley’s as she held them up to cover her face, a small sob escaping. Unsure what to do with her hands Riley began picking at her fingers.

“What are they going to do?” Riley asked as calmly as she could. Hana moved her hands to hold one another in front of her. She lifted her head and revealed the glisten in her eyes and the wetness streaking her cheeks.

“They are going to send me away if I don’t focus. To another country, Riley. I may never see you again if they do.” Hana whimpered out as the tears continued to stream down her face. Riley moved towards her, placed a hand on the side of Hana’s face, and wiped the tear that slid downward.

“But if you do as they tell you, you’ll never see me anyways.” The realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Hana could only nod her head as her chin quivered and the tears fell in greater quantity.

“Hey.” Riley pulled her other hand up to cup the other side of Hana’s face. Embracing it with both hands and wiping the tears dry.

“Listen, we’ll figure something out. They can’t control you forever.” Riley now determined, wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Letting Hana sob on her shoulder as she rubbed her back soothingly. Riley began to gently sway as her sobs lessened until she felt her breathing return to normal.

“I want to show you something.” Riley whispered. Hana pulled back just enough to look at her and nodded her head.

“I’d like that.” She smiled back, a small glitter back in her eyes.

Hana grabbed a pair of shoes and a light coat, while Riley pulled off her own damp hoodie. Leaving out the balcony door, Riley grabbed her backpack and helped Hana down the trellis. They swiftly move across the lawn and Riley boosts Hana up over the wall and climbs up after her. As quickly and quietly as ever they make their way away from the large estate. It had finished raining some time ago and now they strolled down the darkened street arm in arm, each enjoying the company of the other. Hana took a moment to peer over at her shorter friend. Riley’s chocolate hair, not far off from her own eyes, was pulled up into a high ponytail. It draped down to sweep gently across her now exposed sun-kissed golden skin. Riley’s honey eyes found hers and a smile beamed up at her.

“We’re almost there.” Riley said breaking the comfortable silence between the two. Hana was always happy with Riley. Riley had a way of brightening the darkest of corners. Hana grew up with luxuries and social standing, while Riley did not. Riley had to fight for what she wanted, and all she wanted most was freedom. Something that drew Hana to her. Even though Hana was well off, her parents kept her busy learning anything that made her look more appealing to higher-ranking men. To her parents, she didn’t need any friends. When Riley met her, she was lonely but that didn’t matter. They complimented each other in ways no one else had. It was like an invisible magnet that kept pulling them together, and they were both happy for that.

They had been walking through a public garden. Flowers tended beautifully in an array of colors, shapes, and sizes. They came up to the edge of the garden and continued through into an open grassy field. Riley led her to the top of the hill and stopped.

“We’re here.” Riley announced turning them around to face the gardens below.

“It’s a beautiful spot.” Hana said looking around. Riley opened her bag and pulled out a towel and draped it down over the slowly drying grass. She grabbed ahold of Hana’s arm and pulled her down to sit. Then pulling a small light blanket out, she drew close to Hana’s side and laid it over her shoulders.

“Now if we sit quietly and still enough there is one more addition to this whole thing.” Riley whispered.

Hana gazed around and took in the sight before her. The moon almost full, shown large and brightly in front of them. Holding its place above the luscious and brightly colored garden below. Then after a few moments, a small flash of light was seen. Then another and another, until there was a group of small dancing lights sparkling in the empty space between them and the rest of the world.

“Riley, this is beautiful.” Hana said contently. The calm, evident in her posture and voice. They looked at each other and Riley could see the sparkle in her eyes again. The sparkle that only seemed to appear when they were together.

“So, do you like it?” Riley asked with a grin overtaking her face.

“I love it.” Was Hana’s reply, smiling gently back before turning to look onto the perfect scene set out before her.

“Thank you.” Hana whispered as she leaned over and set her head down onto Riley’s shoulder once again. This time in a happy, peaceful, and calm demeanor. Riley shifted her arm to place her hand on Hana’s and leaned her head against hers.

They stayed there watching the fireflies dance and play in the night. Knowing that they can face anything when they are together, and together they plan to stay.

#choices #play choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #choices trr #trr #trr fandom #trr fanfic #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #hana lee #trr hana lee #trr mc #hana lee x mc #trr hana lee x mc #au #alternate universe

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nightskyhoseok · 5 years ago

Text

Autopilot - Jimin (M)

Summary: You’ve always had a thing for your friend Jimin, and that comes with fantasies - ones you’d never dare tell another soul. So when you’re all caught up in Dark Souls and your friend Chihye starts asking you about him, your mind turns to autopilot and your secrets are revealed to more than one...

Genre: Smut

Warnings: dirty talk and mild body worshiping

Word Count: 2.8K

Link to the YouTube video for this one-shot!

•·.··.·• •·.··.·•

A curse slipped out past your lips as the familiar sound of your character’s death thrummed through your speakers, filling your ears with the morbid tune, the words “YOU DIED” appearing on your TV screen. You dropped your controller on the bed and slipped your hands into your hair, frustrated with yourself as the game began to load your respawn ever so slowly. A snicker from beside you drew your attention away and you couldn’t help but stare at your friend as she laughed at your embarrassing attempt to take on the boss known as Kalameet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chihye teased, rolling her eyes at you as she sat up. “It’s not my fault you suck.”

“Thanks, Chihye. That makes me feel much better,” You said sarcastically, glancing back at the TV to see that you had already respawned. You quickly grabbed your controller and readied yourself to take on the boss again, even though a lingering voice in the back of your head screamed “give up!”

“Hey, maybe this time actually do some damage,” Chihye said and laid back down, grabbing her phone to scroll through her timeline again, like she always did. You reached around to grab one of your pillows and smacked her in the face with it, but by the time she got up to yell at you, you were already engrossed back in your game, blocking out all external distractions. “Pussy.”

“Eat my ass,” You snapped back at her. “I’ll have you know this is the hardest boss and he hits fucking hard, so be a little more understanding, okay?”

“Fine.” Chihye groaned loudly and rolled onto her side, watching you make your way down the ladder to approach the black dragon. You honed in onto the dragon, drawing your weapon to make a swift approach. It swiped its claws at your character, but your reflexes allowed you to press down on the buttons of your controller, letting you roll out of the way in time to avoid its attack. A sudden buzz on the blanket beside you caught your attention just for a split second, but you were able to regain your focus, dodging a deadly attack just in time.

Chihye scrambled to sit up and picked up your phone, looking at the notification on the screen. From the corner of your eye, you could see a deathly smirk overtaking her face. She laughed to herself and held your phone closer to her face. You always wondered how she still had perfect vision even though she stared at her phone screen all day. Then again, you weren’t that different with your video games.

“Jimin texted you. He says he’ll be here in five minutes,” Chihye read aloud. “Ooh, let’s see what little old Y/N has been talking about with her boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You said automatically, still focused on the game. You jumped slightly as the dragon flew into the air and let down a devastating breath attack, taking down half of your health within seconds.

“Well, you still like him.”

“I don’t, Chihye,” You lied through your teeth.

“Seriously? Who calls their friend at 2 in the morning and stays on the phone with them for almost four hours? You don’t even do that with me! It’s a sign!”

“Yes, it’s a sign that you’re delusional,” You snorted, earning a groan from your roommate.

“No, you’re delusional. It’s obvious you like him,” Chihye insisted, slipping your phone into your lap. With one hand, you grabbed your phone and set it aside on the bedside table, all the while still playing your game with your other hand. Chihye noticed and whistled, brushing off your shoulder. “Look at you.” You smiled and glanced over at her before returning to the screen. “Anyways, don’t try and run away from this. You like him. It’s obvious.”

“And how is it obvious?” One more strike had finally brought the black dragon to half its health, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at your accomplishment. You looked to Chihye, expecting her to congratulate you on getting this far, but she stayed in her own little fantasy world.

“One, you always talk about him. Two, you are always talking him. Three, when you’re not with me, you’re with him. Four, I just know.”

“I just know,” You repeated in a mocking tone, wincing when Chihye slapped the side of your arm.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me. I know a lot more about relationships than you do, missy.”

“Of course you do, you’ve been with like 12 guys this year alone.”

“And you’ve been with…” You turned to glare at her, but she gave you a shit-eating grin, one that you couldn’t fight because you knew it was true. You simply huffed in defeat and twisted your head back to the TV. “Exactly. A grand total of one.”

A moment of silence took over the room, the only sound being the game’s soundtrack and sound effects playing through your speakers. You shifted uncomfortably, your mind wandering to Jimin. God, you really did like him. Hell, maybe you even loved him. But you had no chance. Jimin was probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met. With those looks, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been with every person at your university. You considered yourself lucky to even be able to be called his friend.

“Even if I did like him, I’d have no chance,” You said suddenly, startling Chihye slightly. She tilted her head and pouted, then leaned back into the pillows at the head of your bed. A small frown decorated your lips, but you pushed your feelings aside and focused on your game again.

“How long have you two been friends again?” Chihye asked.

“Since freshman year,” You answered in a monotonous tone, your brain automatically turning to autopilot as you were engrossed in the game completely.

“And you met-”

“In my Programming course. We got paired for a project.”

“So almost two years. And you never, not once, felt anything for him?” Chihye continued, pushing for more answers.

“I mean, yeah I liked him for a while, but it just kind of went away on its own,” You explained, cutting yourself off with a curse as you took a particularly hard hit from the boss.

“Did you ever want to kiss him?”

“Have you seen his lips?” You smiled to yourself, thinking about his beautiful pink, plump lips. It’s all you could focus on when he was talking, and you’d often have to snap yourself out of your trance before he got the chance to notice you staring.

“Have you ever wanted to sleep with him?”

“I think everyone does.”

“You still wanna fuck him?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” You hummed, smiling as the health bar of the boss dropped to less than a quarter of its fullness.

“Have you ever had a wet dream of him?” Chihye asked, a small smirk painting her lips as she watched you answer without even thinking.

“Yeah, a couple,” You admitted.

“You ever touch yourself thinking of him?”

“Of course.”

“Did you ever- oh shit.”

Chihye stared towards the door, and it took her a few seconds to process what she was seeing before tapping on your shoulder. You pushed her hand off, but cheered out a silent “yes!” as the dragon boss fell to the ground, the triumphant music playing in the background as the words “VICTORY ACHIEVED” popped up. You set your controller down and turned to Chihye, who looked like she had just seen a ghost.

“What?” You questioned. She lifted her hand and pointed her finger to the doorway, and as you turned your head to see what she was pointing at, a familiar face filled your view. Your heart dropped at the sight of Jimin standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he stared at you. Something was different in his eyes. You froze for a moment, thinking back to what you were saying before. You quickly clasped your hand over your mouth and stared at Chihye, who was just shaking her head in disappointment. “How long has he been there?”

“Long enough,” Jimin said in a low tone. Chihye hurried to stand up and grab her bag, rushing to put on her sandals.

“Where are you-”

“Oh, look at the time! I’m totally late for my class,” Chihye laughed.

“But, Chi, it’s Sunday, we don’t have any-”

“Haha, I would love to stay and chat but I’ve gotta go. Bye!” Chihye rushed out of the room, stopping behind Jimin to give you a wide smile and a thumbs up before running off. You groaned and buried your face in your palms, listening to Jimin walking closer. The bed sank down slightly, indicating he had sat beside you.

“You beat Kalameet?” Jimin asked, picking up your controller. You snapped your hands away from your face, embarrassed of the blush that was spreading across your cheeks at a quick rate.

“U-Um yeah,” You said nervously. “Just beat him.”

“Good job. He’s a tough one.” Jimin smiled as he handed you the controller. You reached over to take the controller, jumping slightly when his skin touched yours, undoubtedly burning from the embarrassment. “I still have to beat him.”

“I guess it just takes practice.”

Jimin suddenly leaned over and ran his fingers over the controller, tight in your grip, and pressed down on the home button, exiting out of the game. You slowly turned to him to see a smirk on his face, eyebrows quirked up in curiosity.

“I have a question,” Jimin asked, drawing out his words as if to the beat of your heart. You drew your mouth into a straight line, unsure of what to say. Jimin gripped the controller, still in your hands, and led it down to the edge of the bed, making you set it down on the comforter. His fingers ran up your arm and under your chin, lifting it up slightly as he tilted his head, giving you a lustful look. “Do you still want to fuck me?”

You nearly ran out of the room at that point, but something switched off inside of you, feeling his fingers against you, his eyes boring into yours, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. You looked down at his lips, and it seemed that was all Jimin needed to answer his question as he smashed his lips against yours, grasping the sides of your face to pull you closer.

His tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours after he explored all corners of your mouth. He scooted closer and tilted his head, allowing further access to those lips that you had desired for so long. He slightly moaned into the kiss, the sound shooting straight down to your core as you took a deep breath in, trying to keep your composure.

Your eyes slowly closed, enjoying the sensation of Jimin’s teeth lightly grazing over your bottom lip. When you looked at him, his eyes grew darker with lust, and his hands tightened on your waist as he moved his lips down to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. You winced and gripped at his hair, pulling slightly, earning a groan from him.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N,” Jimin moaned against your skin. His hands moved to your shoulders and pressed down, pushing your back onto the mattress as he climbed over you, his eyes darkening even further. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of you. Thought of this perfect body. So beautiful.”

Jimin moved back slightly to raise your shirt and bunch it up underneath your breasts, then placed a wet, open mouthed kiss to your stomach. You jolted from the sudden touch, feeling Jimin smirk against your skin.

“So sensitive.” Jimin straddled your waist and leaned over you, his hair falling onto your forehead as his breath hit your lips. “Do you want me?”

“Fucking yes,” You said, rising up to connect your lips with his. He smiled into the kiss and brushed your hair back with his hand, then pulled away and slipped his hands past your pajama pants and panties, swiping his fingers over your already drenched slit.

“Damn, you're dripping and I’ve barely even touched you. Do I get you that excited?”

You nodded weakly as he pushed two fingers into your core, stretching you out. You gripped the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin as he pumped his fingers into you, scissoring them to loosen you up. It had been so long since you’ve had someone touch you properly, let alone touch you at all.

“So warm and tight. I can’t wait to pound this cute little pussy.”

You whined at his words, desperate for more than just his fingers.

“Jimin, no more teasing. I need you now. I need to feel you,” You whispered in between pants.

“You sure you can fit all of me? It might hurt,” He laughed.

“Shut up you cocky bastard and just get naked already.”

Jimin laughed at your sudden need, but he followed your wishes and stood up, stripping off his clothes until he was completely naked.

Your eyes stayed glued to his length as he climbed back over you and tugged your pajamas and panties down in one swift movement. He threw them somewhere else in the room and kissed your lips briefly before speaking.

“Condoms?” He asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Bottom drawer,” You said. Jimin leaned over and reached into the bottom drawer, pulling out a silver packet. He opened it with his teeth and rolled the condom onto his length, slowly stroking himself before positioning himself between your legs. He hoisted your thighs over his shoulders and slowly pushed himself into you, earning a sinful moan from the both of you as he settled into your heat.

“Oh fuck,” Jimin moaned, gripping the bedsheets as he twitched inside you, already feeling himself unravel from the feeling of your pussy alone. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth as he pulled back, then pushed back in slowly. “Goddamn, you feel amazing.”

“You too,” You tried to say calmly but it came about as more of a loud moan than anything. He smirked and began to pick up a steady pace, fucking into you while his gaze locked on you. His mouth hung open as his hips moved faster, slapping against the skin of your thighs. You could feel your walls gripping him, pulling him in further, like you never wanted to let go of him.

“You want this cock so much, don’t you?” Jimin smirked, leaning down to ghost his lips over yours. You cried out from the new angle as his cock hit a spot deep inside you that had you trembling from the sensation. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So fucking good. You were made for me. Your pussy was made for my cock.”

“Oh my god, Jimin. More,” You moaned, your nails dragging down his back as he continued his movements, your wetness sliding down his length with every thrust. He let one of your legs go and slid his hand down to your clit, rubbing circles into the sensitive nub. You nearly screamed from the stimulation, but you held through it, and stared deep into Jimin’s eyes as he fucked into you steadily.

“Don’t stop looking at me.”

“Fuck, Jimin, please. I’m so close. Please.“

“Cum, baby. Cum for me.”

With those words, he simultaneously pinched your clit and hit your g-spot, sending you into a whirlwind of passion as you reached your high, screaming out Jimin’s name and profanities of all kinds. A flash of white took over your vision for a second, but you were able to ground yourself again in time to watch Jimin slow his thrusts, grunting out your name as he spilled into the condom, twitching inside your aching walls.

You laid there, trying to catch your breath while Jimin carefully pulled out of you, tearing off the condom before throwing it away and joining you on the bed. He pulled you up to the head of the bed and covered you with a thin sheet, slipping in beside you, his hand gently petting your hair.

“You did so good,” Jimin said.

“Mmm,” You hummed in response, too tired to form any coherent sentences.

“You okay?”

You nodded, smiling at his kindness. It was one of the many things you loved about this man, and you were glad it was still here.

Jimin moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head into his chest as he traced circles on your lower back, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest, now. I’ll be right here with you.”

You smiled to yourself as you drifted off to sleep, Jimin staying beside you the entire time.

•·.··.·• •·.··.·•

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soranihimawari · 4 years ago

Text

sketchbook & coffees

this is a part of a time stamp draft i had in my drafts for a while. after several revisions, i opted to continue using asahi as an inspiration behind this piece.

summary: yn is an artist. her club project for the annual ‘local artist fall soiree’ is sketches of the young and old in miyagi. when the model the club had lined up for the month cancels, she asks her classmate, azumane to “borrow” his hands for the project.

warnings: anxiety/anxiety attacks, how to cope when having one in public/public setting (let me know if my tw tag is operating please)

genre: fluff with healing/romantic comedy at the end (classmates to lovers?)

rating: pg-15+ (for the anxiety scenes)// A.A.F [azumane asahi fluff]

[20:45]

the pencil scratches against the rough page delicately tracing the outline of the shadows of your lover’s hand. somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint sounds of the city coming to life for the first time since the sun has set. the neon lights of the corner shops in front of the local bogedas in roppengi reflect the golden flecks on your eyes. you enjoy the company of the man sitting across from you, his silent stare causes you to empathize with him and as a show of gratitude you pause your drawing of his hands for a moment and smile. he asks if he can move his hands now, to which you nod. his cherrywood dyed hair is brushed to one side, only tied by a thin pink elastic you leant him earlier that day in class. you had slipped him a note in his locker right as classes were ending, knowing he had practice for the volleyball club later. you, whose handwriting he could never forget for peer review essays, asked if he would mind getting coffee with you one day when he was free. you mentioned you had an art project for your club due that month and the model they were going to try to invite for said project had backed out (due to personal reasons); although you weren’t sure why he seemed more flustered, you dismissed it as being nervous since most thought the art club drew semi-nudes, but that wasn’t the case. you explained your senior project was sketching different body parts (clothed or not was at the level of the model’s comfort) of both the old and the young. you had a sketch for every part you needed except for the hands. hence why you suggested the coffeeshop down the street from your mother’s job. with the date and time set, you are now sitting across the table with the ace of your school’s volleyball club.

he offered to pay for the coffees when you had arrived to the cafe, but you insisted on paying him back with tickets for the exhibition as well as a pack of hair ties for his time. what you chose to ignore was the way his friends (and teammates) would tease the tall lad about the way you made his heart soar whenever you were within a three foot radius. he always wanted to play his best for himself, yet he couldn’t help to recall all the times you tried to encourage him after he was completely shut out from date tech the season prior. you knelt down in front of his desk and rested your chin on his desk before spewing some words of advice: “a scientist never repeats the same experiment twice if the results are the same, azumane.” you knew of his anxieties about rejoining the club after the spunky first years showed up outside to corner him and ask if he still wanted to rejoin. you gave him an encouraging thumbs up when he saw you walking down the hall with a broad grin, how could he say no to them?

as you were putting the finishing notes on the gesture drawing of his hands, you heard him inhale sharply. you glance up quickly, not sure if he was exhibiting any other signs of a panic attack, but you wrapped your hand around his palm for stability. even seated down as you were, you realize how erratic his hand had begun to shake from staying in one position for so long. he began to slowly hyperventilate as the espresso machine went off and the night crowd began trickling into the small shop. attacks, especially for him, were far and inbetween, and you recall the first time you helped him through one:

you were in the science lab stock room and the door closed on you both. he began to get this panicked look in his eyes; it was not an easy expression to forget. unaware of how to handle the situation properly back then, you tell your classmate to close his eyes as you lifted one of his hands by his wrist and placed it near your neck pulse point. you were a lot more calmer then, thus instructing him to breath in and out with every thump his fingers felt.

“how do you know this will work yn?” azumane said. his voice was rattled with fear and his eyes looked every which way but down at you. the closeness of it all was what got to him.

“i know it’s a lot to handle right now, but do your best and trust me,” you said. you were stern in your disposition and once he took you up on your advice, you both rode through his attack together. your lips grazed his wrist before asking him if he knew anyone who could help him through an attack. to be quite frank, after you two exited the room, you asked to speak with the teacher after class. when you explain your thoughts about how worried you were for him, the teacher suggested in the next staff meeting to have at least one member (including yourself) in all of azumane’s classes the following year considering what had transpired in her lab supply room. you were lucky the school staff cared about their students’ well being and had implemented a ‘buddy’ system for those who experienced similar issues. you don’t let asahi know about this set up and you both were elated to know you were in the same class again for senior year.

more often than he would like to admit, he thought about that day, because it was the day he changed your contact info in his phone to ‘my wisest yn-chan’. although, one practice early on in the season, noya noticed his friend’s phone going off right as practice was wrapping up and that was the day when the rest of the crows got their ace to admit how he truly felt about the “wise yn-chan”.

you gave his hand a firm squeeze as if to say, ‘i’m here for you. calm yourself, just for me, please.’

“asahi, it’s all right,” your voice is like finely spun sugar to him. “focus on my voice and breathe with me this time, ok?”

you don’t know the power you hold over his heart just yet, but you had an idea once he began to breathe in rhythm with you. his knuckles which had turned white when you held his free hand, began to relax more once you helped him through the worse of it.

“i-i’m sorry,” his voice was small. he was as gentle as they come, but he was still the frightened boy from your second year science class. truthfully, he didn’t want to have an attack when he was having such a lovely afternoon with you; all he really wanted to do was enjoy some time with you ever since you explained why you wanted to meet at the cafe. now that he was a bit embarrassed by his handling of his own attack because it had been so long between his last anxiety attack, yet he thanked whatever gods were nearby for having you there with him.

“don’t worry about it,” you said. then a coy smile carved its way across your features. you realized he was becoming more flustered, so you release his hand from yours. you ask several follow up questions to him after the last remaining bits of the attack subsided and as you talk through him, you noticed how much more calmer your voice makes him. if you thought he didn’t have a crush you prior to today, you were proven wrong the moment he used both of his hands to reach for yours before you packed away your things. he muttered a “p-please don’t go just yet,” but when you studied the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his eyes telegraphed his plea of ‘i might have another one when you’re gone and i’m still not used to handling one by myself yet.’

the action alone startled you at first, granted you have known asahi since second year (through walking the same route with him home from school prior to the science lab incident), but this was the fifth time you helped him through an assortment of anxiety ridden attacks (and you didn’t mind it at all since he was the only one of the third years who didn’t share a class with either the captain or vice-captain that year). you tell him to close his eyes as his breathing returned to normal again and when a familiar tune came on the playlist for the cafe, you started to hum the opening bars. you weren’t a hero perse, but you were pretty damn close especially for the classmate sitting across from you. when you feel his grip relax, you don’t dare to let either of his hands return to his side of the table.

roughly twenty minutes later, you and asahi roam the streets of roppengi heading back to the train platform headed for the miyagi stops. you still hold his hand, wondering how long would it take for him to realize you had felt the same about him since the start of the semester. asahi walks you to your father’s house a few blocks away from his when you return back to the safety of your hometown.

“azumane,” your voice is resilient in it’s unwavering support. the gentle giant had begun to turn around mentioning he’d see you the day of the art festival (you had planned on going together originally, but that changed as soon as you teased him for labeling himself as your date. you mentioned you liked the color of strawberry ice cream since his blush reminded you of it in the fluorescent light inside the train).

“hmm?” he asks, taking his hands out of his jacket pocket. you dropped your school bag on the porch before you pulled him into a hug.

“ack!” he exclaims right as he felt your arms wrap around him with your face turning to one side against his torso. he chuckled nervously before hugging you back; he bent down slightly and rested one of his cheeks atop your head. your shoulder length hair danced in the nightly breeze against the nape of your neck.

“i’ll always be here for you; i believe in you doing your best,” you say suddenly thus causing your soon-to-be-boyfriend(?)/crush to nod. “now come on, get yourself home and i’ll see you next friday at six.”

you release him from your embrace, backing away slowly to create some space between you two, and with what found courage he had stored in him, azumane extends his hand to grip your shoulder lightly. it was a slight warning before you shut your eyes quickly blinking as you felt his breath tickle the side of your face. whatever he whispered to you made you more flustered than you already were. he left soon thereafter with the widest grin.

***

“woah woah woah,” noya said. the libero casually glanced up and down at his best friend who was dressed in business casual clothes after the team caught wind of their ace having a date on a friday night. azumane decided to wear navy slacks and a dress shirt with a belt and his hair was left down (noya’s idea). the ace knew his friends from the club would help him give some encouraging words of wisdom about fashion sense and style, but since he wanted to impress you a little, he wanted to stop by the gym where you had agreed to meet up prior to you arriving on campus.

“noya,” azumane began. he breathed a sigh of exasperation. “do you think this is too much?”

“you’re going to an exhibit by the art club, right?” sugawara inquires, walking around his friend before said friend gave him an approving nod. “you look fine.”

low whistles were heard from tanaka as well all the while the first years along with the single-second year bachelors just laughed and made a few kissing noises up until both sawamura and ennoshita told them to quit it.

on the other hand, none of the boys, with the exception of their managers noticed you in the doorway of their gym. you chose to wear a form-fitting azure cocktail dress with peep toe heels. your dress had pockets, so you had a pair of flats tucked away there. you opted to wear your hair in a messy side braid and all talking ceased as soon as your shoes made contact with the gym floor.

“holy crap,” kazuhita whispered before he elbowed ennoshita who then turned red in the face. you walked a little taller that day and the quieter the team got, the more the nerves came back to asahi’s mind. the first years as a whole were frozen for a second suddenly blushing like mad.

“literal goddess!” tanaka said nearly crying as you winked at him and noya. to be fair, they almost passed out. sugawara and daichi suddenly froze up finding various details around the gym suddenly very interesting so they weren’t caught staring at you. honestly, what else would you expect from the crows of karasuno?

“stop making fun of me, guys. i just want tonight to go smoothly,” asahi’s voice said. there was a hush over the gym and judging by hiw quiet his usually talkative teammates were being, he got more nervous about the date he had with you.

“wait, why is no one talking?” he asked, after re-fixing the feather shaped cuff link on his shirt. you were standing a few paces behind him, pondering if the ace knew just how effortlessly handsome he was.

“probably because they saw me walk by,” your voice had a lilt of laughter in it. what asahi imagined you would wear versus what you were wearing in real time, clearly outweighed his imagination tenfold. the dress hugged you in all the right places causing you to spin around, slowly, just for him. who knew you had that figure tucked away underneath the girls uniform was beyond the members of the team. as you complete your semi-spin, you walk up toward asahi with an amused expression meeting his flirtatious stare (the rest of his face telegraphed a slight case of nervousness, but he had his brain keep his eyes trained solely on your movements. probably didn’t help he was restraining himself from asking you to skip the soiree because he’s be far too invested in leaving you breathless).

“you clean up well,” you tease, poking his chest. you laugh at how his feigns surprise before leaning down and whispering his reply.

“so do you,” asahi’s voice is dangerously low. far lower than what you’re used to hearing in class.then again, it was mostly due to you showing up in that dress. she’s really pretty. is this really y/n-san? hold on, is that a new lipstick color?

“ready to get out of here with me?” you ask, extending your hand out for him, which he gladly takes.

he leads you out of the gym, but before you cross over the threshold of the gym, you say over your shoulder: “don’t worry guys! i promise i’ll have him home in time for morning practice!”

“you better!” sugawara yelled before he noticed you laughing at how quickly asahi’s hand held yours a little tighter.

before the evening’s event draws to a close, you ask one of the wait staff to take a photo of you and your ‘friend.’ you stand side by side and before the shutter closes, you give him a peck on the side of his face leaving an imprint of your strawberry pink painted lips. it was the best image you have of you two together from the local artist fall soiree mostly because of how wide the ace actually smiled.

--end--

#sketches and coffee #asahi x artist!reader #tw: anxiety & anxiety attacks #reader chan is one of three people who can help the gentle ace through an attack #haikyuu!!#haikyu!! fiction #edited for your pleasure #©himawaripapers

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gaystuartlittle · 5 years ago

Note

number 24 for the festive prompts. anything u want but stan uris Must be there. he is a necessity bc i miss him

“Secret Santa is bullshit”

Rating: T (cause Richie) Words: 1,049

Eddie groaned as he sat down on the couch next to Richie. Ben had talked them all into doing a Secret Santa gift exchange, so now they were all seated in Bill's basement getting ready to give their gifts. Eddie had grumbled about it when they all drew names - he wanted Richie, of course, so he could have an excuse to get him a really good gift. But he got stuck with Stan. Okay, not stuck with Stan. He loves Stan. But not the way he loves Richie.

"Why are we even doing this? We all know Secret Santa is bullshit anyways," Eddie complained, to which Richie scowled.

"Absolutely not, Spaghetti man. Secret Santa is a sacred act. I am hurt that you would insult it so," Richie said dramatically, feigning injury.

"You know what? I feel bad for whoever you drew. Because I think we all know you probably got them some trashy gift like a porno magazine," Eddie grumbled as he fidgeted with his sweater sleeve.

"Is that a hint? Because I will happily buy you a porno magazine. Anything for my Eds," Richie smiled and pinched Eddie's cheek. Eddie just swatted his hand away, mumbling, "Not my name, dickwad."

"Okay, let's start! I'll pass out the gifts one at a time!" Ben exclaimed. He was clad in a festive sweater and a Santa hat. He grabbed the first gift under the tiny tree Bev had provided. It was the box Eddie had wrapped for Stan. He knew Stan would like it, but he was still oddly nervous.

"This one's for you, Stan!" Ben said enthusiastically as he passed the gift over to Stan. Stan smiled at the wrapping paper: it had little birds in the snow all over it. Eddie had picked it out just for him. He meticulously peeled back the paper along the fold, ensuring he didn't rip it at all. It was impressive - Stan was able to unwrap the whole present without so much as a tiny tear in the paper.

Stan glanced down at the box in front of him, a wide grin spreading across his face. It was a puzzle of the United States, where each state had a picture of its state bird.

"This is perfect. Who got this for me? I cannot wait to go home and put it together." Stan had the widest smile ever on his face.

"It was me," Eddie said, matching Stan's smile. He was glad his friend loved his gift so much.

"Alright! Next!" Richie exclaimed. Of course the Trashmouth just wanted to get his own gift.

Ben kept passing out the gifts, and they were all surprisingly thoughtful. Mike had gotten a book about Florida from Stan, Bill had gotten a book with 365 different writing prompts from Ben, Beverely had gotten a necklace that said "Losers" from Mike, Ben got a New Kids on the Block t-shirt and poster from Bill, and Richie got a book called "How to be Funny" from Bev. All that was left was Eddie. He had pieced everything together, and knew by now that Richie had gotten him his gift.

"Last one!" Ben said happily as he passed a gift over to Eddie.

"I think I'm afraid to open this," Eddie grimaced. It was wrapped in Christmas Garfield wrapping paper, and Eddie wondered where Richie even found that.

"Don't worry, your mom helped me pick it out," RIchie said with a smile and wink. Eddie just shoved at him and went to peel back the paper. When he unwrapped it, he found a journal. Except the journal wasn't blank. It was filled cover to cover with writing and drawings and photos. Eddie felt his heart in his throat as he thumbed through the pages.

"Rich… did you do all this?" Eddie asked, focusing hard on stopping the tears that he felt creeping up. Richie blushed a bit, but he answered with a nod. Eddie kept looking through the pages. There were playlists, jokes, stories - basically anything that runs through Richie's mind. It was the best gift Eddie had ever gotten.

"Thank you. Really. You surprised me, I thought for sure you'd get me something dumb like a shirt that said 'My best friend fucked my mom' or something," Eddie said with a light laugh. He still felt tense all over, filled with love and anxiety.

"That's a good idea for next year!" Richie exclaimed, scooting towards Eddie to further invade his personal space. He craned his neck to look over Eddie's shoulder at the notebook. By now, everyone had returned to their own little worlds. Mike was looking through his book with Stan, and Bill, Bev, and Ben had gone upstairs to grab more snacks.

Eddie was very conscious of how close Richie was. He could feel his breath on his neck, and it sent shivers up his spine. He wanted more than anything to just turn around and kiss him. He turned the page in the journal, reaching a playlist called "Eddie." Eddie scanned the songs, and they all seemed to be love songs. He wasn't familiar with all of them, as Richie had an obscure music taste, but the ones he had heard were definitely love songs. A voice in the back of his mind was screaming What does this mean?

They heard Bill call down for the rest of them to come up and grab their food. Mike and Stan hurried up the stairs, and Richie was getting up to do the same. Eddie reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could get too far.

"Wait, Rich. I wanted to give you my gift, too," Eddie said nervously. He had to do this now or he would never do it again.

"What gift? You weren't supposed to get anyone else a gift! Breaking the rules for me, Eds?" Richie grinned at Eddie, and his gaze was hypnotic. Before Eddie could talk himself out of it, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Richie's. This kiss was quick, but it was sweet. When Eddie pulled back, he felt his cheeks redden and was immediately self conscious. He stared at Richie, looking for some sign of a reaction.

Richie just smiled at him and said, "See? Secret Santa isn't such bullshit now, is it?"

#answered #dyoxyys #caroline writes #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #jack dylan grazer #james ransone #bill hader #finn wolfhard #it chapter one #it chapter two #it #fanfiction #fluff #mine

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purplepersnicketywrites · 5 years ago

Note

For the "mini" fic prompts, can I request #19? :DDD

‘things you said when we were the happiest we ever were’

okay so this is like, one of the SAPPIEST things i’ve written I think! it’s also 3.7k words!

—

“I like you,” Kirishima said.

Katsuki stared at him. The redhead seemed to squirm under his gaze, lower lip bitten between his stupid-sharp teeth, eyes flicking away from Katsuki’s face to somewhere on the ground. When Kirishima had begged and pouted until Katsuki had agreed to take them both hiking, this was not the conversation Katsuki had been expecting to have once they reached the top.

That didn’t mean it was something unwelcome.

Kirishima drew in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and met Katsuki’s eyes again. “I like you, Bakugou. Um. A lot. So I was wondering if maybe I could ask you out on a date?”

Contrary to popular belief, Katsuki was actually quite familiar with his feelings. It didn’t mean that he always agreed with them. In this case, however, Katsuki embraced the warm and golden glowing bubble that cast its light through his entire being like a miniature sun. Happiness wasn’t enough of a word to describe it.

Katsuki didn’t let his voice waver when he replied to his best friend. “Ask, then.”

“Oh, uh,” Kirishima swallowed with an audible gulp. “Would you want to go on a date with me?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Hey Katsuki, what’s your plan after Yuuei?”

Katsuki frowned slightly and paused his braiding of Eijirou’s hair. “Plan? For what?”

“Oh, like,” Eijirou waved one of his hands around, leaning back into Katsuki’s chest. “You gonna sidekick first? Or go pro straight from the get-go.”

“Pro, obviously,” Katsuki said. “Gonna open an agency an’ everything. I’ve got the reputation to pull it off already.”

“Yeah, I guess you do,” Eijirou said, dropping his head backwards onto Katsuki’s shoulder. Katsuki peered at his face and Eijirou grinned at him. There was something not a hundred-percent genuine in that grin and Katsuki almost frowned. “So are you looking for an agency building?”

“Haven’t had all that much time for it,” Katsuki said, watching Eijirou for signs of reaction to anything he was saying . “Googled some shit but I’d want to go and see wherever these places are. Can’t exactly go property hunting in the middle of term.”

Eijirou turned his head and kissed the first part of Katsuki’s skin that he reached, just under his jaw. “How about apartments?”

“Gonna have to be near the agency, so I gotta look for that first,” Katsuki said. “If I want somewhere with decent villain traffic it’ll probably be in one of the more expensive areas with a high population density. The government agency fund doesn’t cover personal accomodations, so I’ll probably have to set up a hammock in my office for a couple of months until the Heroics feedback kicks in and I start earning something decent.”

“Hm,” Eijirou said, kissing Katsuki’s neck again. As much as Katsuki wanted to indulge in that, he had a feeling that something was on his boyfriend’s mind.

“What is it?” he asked, prodding Eijirou’s cheek.

“Oh, well, um,” Eijirou pulled a slightly shifty face. “I was just- I mean. I don’t have as much of an ironclad plan at the moment…”

“So, what?” Katsuki tilted his head. “You’re lookin’ for advice?”

Eijirou’s face skewed a little more. “Not exactly. Uh. I just. Um. Would you ever, uh, consider maybe having two hammocks in your office?”

Oh.

Katsuki stared at his boyfriend and felt overwhelmed all of a sudden. Holy shit.

“Fuck, I love you.”

Now they were both staring. Katsuki could feel his cheeks heating up but damn, it was the truth, and he’d had to say it.

“What?” Eijirou said, the first of them to break out of the stupor. “You- What?”

“I love you, Kirishima Eijirou,” Katsuki said. The words tasted right on his tongue.

Eijirou sat up, twisting to face Katsuki and reach for his face. “You- You- Holy-”

“I love you,” Katsuki repeated, pushing his face forward so that their foreheads met. Now that he’d said the words, he couldn’t stop. “I love you! I fucking love you, Eijirou.”

Eijirou kissed him, hard and sweet. This kiss didn’t last all that long with Eijirou pulling back to pant through his grin. “I love you too.”

A sensation not unlike one of Kaminari’s shocks zipped up Katsuki’s spine. His stomach churned, but in a good way, like all of his insides were dancing. Katsuki felt elated, giddy even, and he wrapped his arms around Eijirou’s waist to bring him closer.

They traded words and kisses and smiles and words again, over and over and over.

It occurred to Katsuki that he hadn’t actually answered Eijirou’s question, so he pulled away slightly - and only slightly, with their noses still brushing and Eijirou’s breath hot against his mouth.

“You do know we can share a hammock, right, dumbass?” Katsuki asked.

Eijirou very being seemed to brighten at the question, and he responded with his own. “Does that mean that you do wanna live together after Yuuei?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

Katsuki wasn’t normally one for nerves in intense situations, but this was something entirely different. It wasn’t like some fight against a villain where Katsuki could explode and explode and put his feelings into action. It wasn’t remaining calm while his partner was injured, letting everything condense into a laser-focus until Eijirou was safe.

No. This were the fluttery, flurry-of-emotions type nerves that Katsuki didn’t know how to deflect into productivity. The kind of nerves that part of him enjoyed, the nerves he had felt just before leaning into his first kiss as he tangled his fingerss into red hair, the nerves that had shuddered through him in waves when he had knelt on one knee in front of Eijirou with a ring in one hand.

“Yo, how’re you hold- Ooh, not so hot,” Kyouka said, poking her head around the door. She glanced around the room and at Katsuki, who was sitting on one of the haphazardly scattered chairs. “They left you alone in here? Fools.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘they’, Headphones? You’re on my side, too,” Katsuki grumbled.

“Oh it’s Headphones right now, huh? Man you’re sweating buckets,” Kyouka said, putting her hands on her hips.

Katsuki glared at her. “No fucking kidding.”

“Hey now, it’s just Eijirou,” Kyouka said. “Think about that dumb grin he’s gonna be wearing. Just for you.”

God, Eijirou’s fucking smiles. Eijirou was easy with them, flashing a grin here, showing off a smirk there, but not that easy. Some of Eijirou’s smiles were rarer than others, and Katsuki adored drawing them out of him. Like the way Eijirou smiled when he woke up, so soft and sleepy and content. No one else got to see that.

“I love him so fucking much,” Katsuki said, groaning and burying his face in his hands. “That’s not the- Ugh. We shoulda just eloped.”

“Says Mr ‘If These Napkins Aren’t The Right Colour I’m Gonna Commit A Crime’.”

“Shuddup,” Katsuki said. “Someone who doesn’t think leopard print or pitch black tablecloths are an acceptable wedding aesthetic had to be in charge of decor.”

“So that ruled out all of your friends,” Kyouka said, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting down. “Because we’re all either from the same dimension that Hawaiian Shirt designs are stolen from, or goths.”

“Exactly,” Katsuki said. “Useless, the lot of you.”

“Denki threw a bangin’ bachelor party, though, right?” Kyouka asked.

“I guess,” Katsuki said. Pikachu had taken them all to a theme-park with enough express passes to skip the queue for any of the rides. It had been fun. He had made out with Eijirou on the ferris wheel like they were teenagers again, and no one had asked for his autograph.

“There, see? You’re smiling again, Blasty,” Kyouka said. Oh, well, the distraction had helped. “Think about how powerful you’ll feel when you can say ‘my husband’.”

“So fucking powerful.”

“Precisely! It’s a good feeling,” Kyouka grinned. “Remember when Denki kept dropping ‘my wife’ into nearly every conversation?”

“Too well,” Katsuki said, shaking his head.

“Well that’s gonna be you and Eijirou, soon. You’ll be rubbing it in everyone’s faces,” Kyouka said. Fuck, that sounded good. “Alright, final check. You got your suit on properly?”

Katsuki looked down at himself. “Pretty sure.”

“Tie, shoes, any weird decorative things?”

“All there,” Katsuki said. He was wearing Red Riot themed cufflinks, and he knew Eijirou had a matching pair with his own brand.

“Makeup and hair?” Kyouka asked, tilting her head.

“Jeez, it ain’t like this is a broadcast production,” Katsuki muttered. “But yeah. It’s all sorted. If you can’t see it then Mina did her job right.”

Kyouka studied him for a few minutes. “Vows?”

“Hell yeah,” Katsuki said. “Everything’s ready. It’s just the fuckin’ waiting.”

“Good job you don’t have to do that any more,” Kyouka said, glancing at her watch. “It’s time to go, Katsuki!”

“Oh, shit,” Katsuki said, standing. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, okay, let’s go.”

Everything after that was blurred by adrenaline, until he was standing up near the altar at a very familiar pair of red eyes as Eijirou approached up the aisle. Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away - wouldn’t, in any case. The very world was glowing.

“Hi,” Eijirou whispered, once he was standing in front of Katsuki. God, he looked so fucking handsome. “Are you ready for this?”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Whoa!” Eijirou said, laughing from where he was pinned to the wall next to the door in their apartment as Katsuki adorned his throat in kisses. “Uh, what’s the special occasion, Blasty?”

Katsuki shook his head. “Just kiss me back already.”

Eijirou planted a smacker on Katsuki’s cheek. Ugh, he hadn’t meant like that and Eijirou knew it, judging from the mischief in his husband’s eyes.

“Gonna make me guess, huh? Was it something that happened today?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Fine, if Eijirou was gonna be like this… He leant in and began to work up a hickey on Eijirou’s collarbone.

“That’s a yes, huh? Augh, I’m gonna have to cover that u- Katsuki- Gonna have to cover that up! Was it something I did?”

Katsuki nibbled his way up Eijirou’s throat up to his ear.

“Hmm, was it the b- Oh.”

Eijirou grabbed his face and pushed him back. The redhead was staring as Katsuki with his big wide eyes and a kind of thunderstruck expression.

“Is- So you weren’t joking, earlier? With that baby?”

Katsuki grinned at him. “Nope.”

“Katsuki!” Eijirou cried - literally, there were tears forming in his eyes. “You- Soon? Really? You’re ready for kids?”

Katsuki took in Eijirou’s radiant, adoration-filled expression, pictured it directed at a couple of rowdy brats storming around the room with blankets tied onto them as capes. Damn, they’d probably have to move into an actual house - good thing they could afford it now with their ever-growing popularity.

Katsuki pictured reading storybooks together, being woken up in the middle of the night by a kid who’d just had a nightmare, sticking scribbled drawings up on the fridge they were going to have in their big fancy-ass kitchen.

Fuck yes, he was ready for kids. He wanted to be a father with Eijirou so badly that it burned, hotter and brighter than he wanted to be the number one hero.

Katsuki kissed Eijirou, as deeply as he could when his husband was bearing that big goofy grin of his.

“Oh my god,” Eijirou said, arms sweeping around Katsuki’s waist to lift him up and spin the pair of them across the room. “You wanna be a dad with me?!”

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“She hasn’t had the best start to life,” the social worker said, looking at her paperwork with a troubled expression. Katsuki didn’t remember her name but Eijirou definitely knew it. “She doesn’t remember all that much - as she was very young - but her birthparents were villains and she was retrieved during a raid on their house. She was rather neglected.”

“Sounds a little like Eri,” Eijirou muttered, and Katsuki grabbed one of his hands to try and stop him from clenching his fists too hard.

“She’s been responding well to her foster family and making progress on all of her developmental targets,” the social worker continued. “But ideally we’d like to get her to a permanent family as soon as possible, so if you’re unsure about proceeding after you’ve met her, let us know as soon as you can so we can go back to looking for another match for her.”

Katsuki nodded. The idea of giving up on the kid rankled with him already, but the rational side of his brain reminded him that if they didn’t end up being compatible, it’d be better for everyone to say so.

“She has two older siblings placed with other families,” the social worker said. “And she currently had regular contact with them. Would you be willing to accomodate this?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Eijirou said. Katsuki nodded again.

They had been stood outside of this two-year-old’s foster home for far too long while the social worker briefed them. Fuck, he just- He wanted to see her already.

“Alright, let’s head in.”

The social worker knocked on the door. The woman who opened the door greeted them with a smile. She was small, but kind-looking, and reminded Katsuki a little of Auntie Inko.

“Welcome!” She said, but the rest of the pleasantries flew over Katsuki’s head. Fuck, he was just too excited. They might be meeting their daughter today.

The foster carer led them into her house and into a kitchen. There. A little girl with a shock of bright, shaggy blue hair sat scribbling furiously as a piece of paper with a green crayon. Katsuki remembered from the paperwork that she was three. He didn’t know how big three-year-olds were supposed to be. Was she tall for her age? Short?

She looked up at them as they entered the room, and Katsuki felt his heart lurch. Her eyes were red. It could be something they all shared. Shit, was he about to start crying? Where the fuck was his composure, what the hell.

“Aoimi,” said the foster carer - that was the girl’s name. “We have some guests today.”

Aoimi narrowed her eyes and looked between the three new faces.

“Why?” she asked. Her foster-mother laughed.

“I thought it would be nice to have some company! Be nice to them, okay?”

“Maybe,” Aoimi said, going back to her colouring.

The foster-carer laughed again. “She has a bit of a personality on her!”

Katsuki met Eijirou’s eyes - his husband was beaming at him.

“Good,” Katsuki said, sitting down in the chair he was pointed to. “You wouldn’t wanna be boring, huh kid?”

Aoimi looked up at him again, as considering as a three-year-old could be. “Wanna see my quirk?”

The girl’s foster-mother looked like she was biting back a grimace. “Now, Aoimi-”

“Yes,” Katsuki said. He looked up at the foster-carer for a moment. “If your quirk’s not too messy to use indoors.”

“It is not,” Aoimi said, wiggling a little in her seat and sitting up straight. Her foster-mother sighed and nodded. Aoimi grinned, and Katsuki watched as the tiny girl’s teeth sharpened. Claws grew from her fingers, and blue fur began to sprout over her skin. A long, thin tail with a tuft of fur at the end of it began to wave around behind her, until the girl Katsuki was looking at was more of a cub.

“That’s pretty cool,” Eijirou said, leaning around Katsuki from his own seat to see Aoimi more clearly.

The girl nodded, teeth still bared. Katsuki thought that as she got older, her canines might even longer than they already were, like a saber-toothed cat. Aoimi detransformed slowly, fur receding and teeth shrinking back into shape. “What are your quirks?”

Katsuki held out one of his hands and let it spark a few times. “I can make explosions.”

“Whoa,” Aoimi’s eyes bugged out a bit. “That’s like Ground Zero!”

Katsuki grinned. “You could say that, yeah.”

The little girl studied him for a long moment. “You are Ground Zero.”

“Yep, my real name is Kirishima Katsuki,” Katsuki said. He pointed at Eijirou. “And the big lug over there is my husband, Kirishima Eijirou.”

“Red Riot,” Aoimi said. She seemed to be taking this quite well. “You’re here ‘cause you wanna adopt me, right? I think you should, it’d be cool to have hero dads.”

Huh.

“Aoimi,” her foster-mother said, sounding exasperated.

“I’m not stupid,” Aoimi said, jutting her chin out. “I can read.”

Holy fuck, it was like looking in a mirror, kinda. Katsuki found himself grinning even harder.

The meeting continued, with Eijirou asking more questions than Katsuki could have thought about this kind of stuff, and Aoimi herself making a pretty big impact on Katsuki. He’d known pretty much from the moment he’d met the girl’s eyes, really, but the more he talked to her, the more determined he was.

He nearly cried again when they were waving goodbye to Aoimi and her foster-mother. God, he was turning into such a fucking sap, wasn’t he?

The social worker reached her car and turned to address them.

“Well, you’ve met Aoimi now. Do you need some time to think about it, or would you like me to put that you’re happy to proceed with the adoption on my report?”

He could tell from the look in Eijirou’s eyes what their answer would be. Eijirou nodded at him.

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Katsuki! Katsuki come here!”

Katsuki bolted into the room at the sound of Eijirou’s voice. “What’s-”

“Look!” Eijirou pointed to the TV, where some sort of news was airing. “There, there, look! A pair of hero interns from Yuuei just debuted, Katsuki! Guess who it was!”

“Holy shit,” Katsuki squinted at the screen, at the bright blue blob he could just about make out talking to a couple of police officers in the background. “Aoimi?”

“Yes! I just turned the news on and there she was!” Eijirou crowed. “She and her friend on the other internship with Gevaudan apprehended a purse-snatcher with a crocodile quirk. Here, I’ll rewind so you can see.”

“She’s okay, right?” Katsuki asked as Eijirou rolled the news footage back.

Eijirou nodded, bouncing up and down in his seat like he was an excitable teenager again as the takedown of the crocodile villain happened. Her fellow intern looked to have some sort of speed-boosting or strength-based quirk and he had flung Aoimi in her cat form at the villain. She’d been big enough to pin the villain to the ground until the other intern and Gevaudan showed up.

Katsuki found himself beaming. Damn, that was his daughter.

Once Gevaudan had taken over the arrest, Aoimi reverted back to human and grabbed her friend in a tight hug. A very tight hug. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed.

“Man, I wanna call her,” Eijirou said. “I’m gonna call her, got your phone on you?”

Katsuki handed it over, and Eijirou immediately went to Aoimi’s number.

She picked up after three rings. “Dad! Pa! I debuted!”

“We saw on the news, honey!” Eijirou said. “We’re so proud of you!”

“Aw, thank you! I- Yeah, it’s my dads. -I’m so glad you saw it!”

Katsuki leant in to the receiver. “No one can keep Hellcat down! You fuckin’ killed it out there, lioncub.”

“Augh, don’t call me that baby name,” Aoimi complained, though she didn’t sound too put out. “But thanks!”

“It’s my job to call you baby names, snugglekins.”

Katsuki could see Eijirou trying to smother his laughter.

“Pa, you’re so embarrassing.”

Katsuki cackled. “Oh yeah, that reminds me - bring your boyfriend over this weekend and we’ll celebrate the two of you taking down your first villain with a proper meal.”

“Wh- N- We’re not- Shut up, Pa!”

“My mistake,” Katsuki snickered, handing the phone back to Eijirou.

“Seconding the invite, though,” Eijirou said. “Debuts are something worth commemorating!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aoimi said. She paused and said all the rest in a rush. “We’ll be there, love you both, bye.”

Katsuki put his phone back in his pocket and leaned over onto Eijirou. “She’s growing up, Ei.”

“And growing up well,” Eijirou said, curling his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders.

“Definitely doing better than me at that age,” Katsuki snorted.

Eijirou pressed a kiss to his temple. “I think the next generation of heroes is gonna be a good one, huh?”

Katsuki turned to kiss his husband on the lips. Well, with their daughter among them...

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

—

“Whew,” Eijirou said. “I’d forgotten how much a mountain can take out of you.”

“Baby.”

Eijirou laughed, still wheezing a little from the climb. “Man, I haven’t been a baby for a long-ass time now, Katsuki, and neither have you.”

“I dunno,” Katsuki said, reaching out to grab his husband’s hand. “Ya still got a baby-face.”

Eijirou rolled his eyes, and Katsuki took a moment to let himself stare at the other man. Yeah, they might both be a little decrepit now, but Eijirou still took his breath away. A lifetime of laughter lined Eijirou’s eyes. Laughter that they had shared, so no doubt Katsuki looked much the same.

Eijirou squeezed his hand, and together they looked out over the view. It hadn’t changed much over the years. Maybe the trees had grown a little. It was still the same landscape that had stretched out before them back when Eijirou had first asked Katsuki out.

“Hey, Katsuki,” Eijirou said. Katsuki turned his head to look back at the best part of the scene. “If someone gave you the chance to go back in time, right back to when we were kids… Would you say yes onther time? Would you do it all again?”

Katsuki stared at Eijirou. What kind of fucking question was that? Did Eijirou really think that Katsuki would want to choose any other life than the one they had carved out together? With all their friends, and their daughter and their grandchildren?

If Katsuki looked back over his memories, his mind was flooded with a golden wash of joy. He’d had a good life. The best life. He had shared it with Eijirou - and fuck, they weren’t even that old yet! There were decades still ahead of them.

Would you do it all again?

There was a twinkle in Eijirou’s eye, and Katsuki snorted. His husband already knew the answer. He’d probably always known the answer.

There was only one thing that Katsuki could say.

“Yes.”

#kiribaku #bakushima #my fanfiction #fanfiction #let-me-wander #reply #ask meme #fic: the only word #i'll reblog with the ao3 link in a sec owo

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